Forbidden Legacy (4 page)

He shifted, his lithe, muscled body closer, the intensity of his gaze stealing her breath. “I seek naught.” His deep voice rumbled. “Avalon Castle is mine. I willna barter for what I already possess.”

The man was exasperating! “'Tis nae yours until 'tis recaptured.”

A confident smile curved his mouth. “It will be.” He nodded. “Say what is on your mind, lass.”

Fine. Directness would make everything simpler. “I propose that we live together without intimacy.”

He arched a brow.

“There is a large chamber that has a smaller room within,” she explained, bolstered by the way he hadna immediately disagreed. “During the day each of us will attend to our respective tasks. At night you would sleep in the extra space. Or, with your being lord of the castle, if you wish a separate chamber, none of the servants will question your decision.”

* * *

Intrigued, Stephan mulled over Katherine's offer. Their doing naught but sharing a chamber held great appeal. 'Twould allow him to fulfill the Grand Master's request, his vow to King Robert, and to exist without the interference of an unwanted wife.

More important, their sharing a bedchamber, regardless if each slept within a different part of the room, would satisfy the expectations of those inside the castle. In addition, the agreement would ease the tension between them. “I will have nay untoward discussion about our marriage by those living within Avalon.”

“There will be none,” she replied.

Neither would he make a mockery of the sacrament of marriage. “When we eat, lodge guests, or important events arise, our attendance together is expected, a practice we will follow.”

“I would insist on the same. 'Tis important that we present a united front. I doubt anyone will find it odd that we are nae more than cordial to the other,” she said, an edge of nerves in her voice. “Mayhap they will be relieved that you are nae a wicked man given to brutality.”

Disgust swept him. “I would never harm an innocent. Those whom I punish have earned their fate.”

She relaxed a degree.

And why would she nae? Though Stephan had assured her that he wouldna harm her, the lass knew little about him. “I will consider your request.”

Temper sparked in her eyes. “'Tis my castle we journey to.”

“A castle that I have nae yet seized,” he drawled, “a fact you informed me of moments before.”

Blue eyes narrowed. “Make light of this if you choose, but I am nae entertained by your decision to ponder a choice that clearly works for us both.”

Stephan held her gaze, intrigued by the fire in her eyes, their color reminding him of the azure depths of the Mediterranean, how the colors lingered in one's mind like a spell cast. Irritated by the whimsical thought, he nodded. “Then I will agree.”

Relief flickered in her eyes. “I thank you.”

“Thanks are unnecessary. As you stated, the choice clearly makes sense for us both.” Satisfied with the arrangement, he strode toward the stern, where several of his men worked. With his and Katherine's relationship void of emotional interaction, for the first time since their debacle of a marriage he found hope that their union would indeed suit his purposes.

* * *

Hours later, sweat coated Stephan's brow as he angled his sword and deflected Aiden's attack. “A good move, but I have seen better. Mayhap your squire needs to teach you how to handle a blade.”

At his teasing, his friend's eyes brightened with challenge. “Is that what you are thinking?” Aiden shifted, drove his sword forward.

Stephan sidestepped and escaped his charge, thankful to release his frustration through sparring. Since speaking with Katherine that morning, they'd each avoided the other. Or, more accurately, she'd avoided him. Either way, he welcomed her absence.

With a grunt, Aiden rounded his sword, sidestepped, and angled his blade up.

Forged iron screamed at the knight's blow.

Caught off guard, Stephan cursed. 'Twas his penance for thinking of his stubborn wife when his entire focus should be on training.

Stephan feigned to the right, turning on his heel at the same time he swung his blade down, catching his friend's sword. Before his opponent could free his weapon, he jammed his blade up until their hilts collided. With a roar, he jerked the weapon free from Aiden's hands.

Surprise widened his friend's eyes as his sword clattered to the deck.

Several of the Knights Templar who had gathered nearby watched with appreciation.

“Aiden,” Cailin called, “you know better than to let Stephan move too close.”

The other knights leaning against the rail laughed.

“Aye,” Thomas agreed, “dinna let Stephan distract you.”

“Do you want me to fetch your sword?” Stephan teased, and several men chuckled.

“I will retrieve it,” Katherine said as she stepped forward and lifted the weapon. “'Tis my turn to have a round with the victor.”

L
aughter faded as Katherine stood gripping Aiden's fallen sword. She arched a brow at her husband.

Stephan's eyes narrowed.

Neither had she expected her challenge before his men to inspire praise.

His knuckles whitened on the sword's hilt. “What,” he said with an easy calm that belied the temper simmering within his gaze, “are you doing?”

“I believe,” Katherine said with forced lightness, “'tis obvious.”

Water breaking against the bow rumbled through the silence.

The knights remained still; each man watched, waited for their lord's reply.

Nerves edged through her, but she held. 'Twas her husband's arrogance that'd forced her hand by dismissing her ability with a sword sight unseen. Once aware of her skill, he would welcome her to join in the attack on Avalon.

Stephan lowered his blade. “I dinna spar with women.”

“Then,” she said, allowing her frustration to fill her voice, “you have never met a woman determined to fight for her home.”

“
Now
,” he said with quiet emphasis, “is nae the time for this discussion.”

She stepped closer. “Aye, 'tis time to train, to hone each person's proficiency in preparation for the upcoming fight.”

Her husband's mouth tightened.

“My sister is skilled with a blade,” a man to her right said.

“Are women fighting an Irish tradition, Rónán?” Sir Thomas teased.

Laughter echoed among the men, and she caught several smiles. Katherine could have kissed Thomas. The knight's teasing had lessened the mood from dire to intense.

“Stephan, I think you should give the lass a round,” Rónán called.

“What harm could it do?” Aiden agreed. “Besides, after one spar, I suspect the lass willna be coming back for another round.”

Stephan's frown grew fierce. “'Tis nae her blade.”

She took the sword through a series of intricate moves, impressed that although heavier than she was used to, due to its perfect balance, she maneuvered the weapon with ease. Whoever had crafted this was a master at his trade. “I have handled more substantial swords.”

His fingers flexed upon his hilt, and then her husband gave a curt nod. “Begin when you are ready.”

Determined to surprise him with her proficiency, she stepped back, raised her blade.

“It could be a trap, Stephan,” Aiden teased. “Mayhap the lass knows what she is about.”

Several men laughed.

“Mayhap,” Stephan replied, his tone dry.

With slow precision, his eyes fixed on hers, her husband stepped within a sword's length, lifted his blade, matching her guard. “Before we start,” he whispered, “in deference to your station, I offer you a chance to withdraw.”

The arrogant toad! Katherine swung against his weapon and straightened her arm with the point of her sword a hairbreadth from his nose. The shock on his face was worth the jarring of her blade as it clashed against his.

His nostrils flared. “So be it.” Their blades locked, he pushed her back.

Though gentle, the force of his shove had her stumbling. She understood his intention. He expected to trounce her with little effort, to ensure she never dared challenge him again.

She steadied herself, deflected his next swing. Smothering her nerves, Katherine focused on her training over the years, the tricks taught to her by her father along with Avalon's master-at-arms. When Stephan started to raise his sword, she shifted to his right in a mock attack, and then jumped back.

His slashing blade met air.

As his weapon swept inches away, she swung her hilt against his, shoved, and prayed the increased momentum would throw him off-balance.

Instead, forged steel screamed as he stilled his weapon in mid-swing, his arm trembling from the sheer force of the act as he turned to face her more squarely, shoving their swords into an
X
between them.

At the sudden blade's stop and his return shove into the strong parry, unable to halt, she began to fall.

With a muttered curse, Stephan caught her wrist. “If 'twas a real battle, I could end your life now.” His expression darkened as he twisted his sword over hers, placing the edge at her throat. “Forfeit.”

Heart pounding, she held his gaze, stunned by his strength, shaken by the emotional impact of the man. Furious to notice such, she shoved aside the unwanted thoughts, clung to her anger.

“If 'twas real battle”—she flinched with her left arm, and a small blade appeared in her hand flat against his chest—“the dirk hidden in my garb would be in your heart.”

Hazel eyes narrowed. “Weapons training isna done for one's amusement.”

“I play nay game—” she whispered, ensuring her reply was as fierce. Hoots of laughter echoed from around them, his knights ignorant of the battle of wills unfolding before them.

“Then in this you shall lose.” Her husband pushed her back and raised his blade, his expression tense.

She secured her dagger. They continued to spar, his moves relentless but nae rough. Instead of overpowering her as she'd assumed, he'd chosen to force her to continue swing after swing without reprieve, drain her of her strength with slow efficiency.

Though they'd agreed on a business arrangement of sorts, his actions revealed that he expected her to bend to his will. But he would fail.

Her arms trembling with exhaustion, Katherine lifted her sword for her next swing.

Irritation flickered in Stephan's face. “Enough.”

With a speed she hadna anticipated, he slid his blade beneath hers, jerked her sword free.

The weapon slid across the deck.

Before she realized his intention, he caught her wrist, spun her, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pinning her left hand. “Cede.”

Trapped, fears of her past assault ignited, and panic flooded her. Katherine fought to break free, but his hold was like iron, his muscled body firm against hers as if carved by granite. “Release me!”

“Admit defeat.”

Katherine struggled to breathe, fought to work past the terror that with his strength, if he desired, he could take her against her will.

Stephan was a good man, a knight sanctioned by their king. If he'd wanted her, he'd had every right to take her on the night they wed. Instead, he'd left her untouched.

The haze of terror ebbed. Shaken, she noticed the knights watching her, their expressions a mixture of confusion and concern.

Shame swept her. What his men must think of her. She tried to tug free. “Let me go, please.”

* * *

At Katherine's whispered plea, Stephan glanced down. Stunned by the panic in her eyes, he released her.

Her breathing in ragged gasps, his wife stumbled back, her gaze darting around like a wild animal in search of escape.

“I willna harm you,” he said, conscious of the blasted cause of her upset. For a moment he'd desired her, an awareness she must have noticed.

“Nay . . . I . . .” Her movements unsteady, she took another step back, glanced toward his men, and red swept up her cheeks.

“Wait,” Stephan said, keeping his voice calm, needing to repair the deteriorating situation.

Panicked blue eyes met his. “I—I must go. Please dinna follow.” Before he could reply, she bolted to the ladder. A moment later, the soft tap of her steps from below deck faded.

God's blade! His reaction to her supple body was one any warm-blooded man would have had. Neither did his desire warrant her reaction.

Should he ignore her plea and try to talk with her? And if he did, with her so upset, would he make everything worse? Frustrated, Stephan glanced toward his men.

Lines of concern deepened Thomas's brow. “Is the lass well?”

“Aye,” Stephan replied. He'd dealt with kings, bishops, and foreign leaders in far more difficult situations. He'd give his wife time to calm, then speak with her later. “We must finish securing the crates and move the last of the provisions below before the sun sets.”

The men shot one another curious glances and then broke off, each heading toward their respective task.

A dull pounding in his temple, Stephan strode to the bow of the ship and picked up gear he'd left there earlier. With a grimace, he raised his face to the bluster of the wind, cursing the turn of events.

The rush of water churned beneath the bow's might, and clumps of seaweed floated past.

Steps sounded behind him, and then Thomas halted at his side. “Did you want me to see to the lass?”

“'Tis best if I speak with her once she settles.”

His friend nodded.

Stephan rubbed the back of his neck. “I should never have allowed her to spar.”

A smile touched the knight's mouth. “With her stubbornness, you would have had to haul her away to stop her.”

“'Tis the truth of it. Never have I met a woman so obstinate. She would give a cornered bear a solid run.”

Thomas laughed. “'Twill make your marriage far from dull.”

Stephan grunted. “Katherine is determined to join in the attack to seize Avalon. I am confident her challenging me today was to prove she was up to the task.”

“I was impressed by her ability.”

“She held her own, more than I expected,” Stephan admitted. “Still, her skill changes naught. When we lay siege to the castle, 'twill be with men seasoned in war. My wife will remain aboard ship.”

The cry of gulls echoed in the distance as Thomas studied him. “'Twas brave of the lass to spar with you.”

Stephan grunted. “Foolish.”

“Few women would have dared.”

“God's blade, her reasons matter little.”

“They matter to her. Though, 'twas odd how she bolted, more so after having dared draw her hidden dagger.”

Stephan grimaced, irritated by the reminder, that he'd nae anticipated she'd have concealed a secondary weapon. A sage tactic; one he, too, utilized.

“Initially,” Thomas continued, “I believed she was embarrassed to have lost the match, which made little sense as she fought against a highly trained knight. But from the intensity of her reaction, there was something more. What exactly that was I am unsure.”

But he knew. The exact moment Stephan had held her against him was etched in his mind like a chisel to stone. Heat still seared him where they'd touched. He hadna anticipated his body's response.

Or her reaction.

Resigned to his fate, Stephan scowled toward the ladder. “I should talk to her sooner rather than later.”

“Aye,” his friend agreed, “but with that fierce look, you will scare the lass further.”

“'Tis frustration.”

“Indeed.” His friend's face grew somber. “I once had a sister.”

Surprised by the revelation, and curious why Thomas had chosen now to disclose the fact, Stephan waited for his friend to explain. Though they'd battled alongside each other for years, never had the knight mentioned his family. Until this moment, he'd believed him an orphan.

“My sister would be talking about someone who had made her laugh. A moment later she'd have tears in her eyes and explain that she'd found a bird dead in the woods on one of her walks. Women are difficult to understand. My advice, dinna try. That is”—Thomas stared at the ocean for a long moment, then a touch of humor flickered on his mouth—“if you want to retain your sanity.”

“I wish to protect my wife, naught more.”

“Mayhap, but 'tis obvious she doesna want your protection.” He paused. “'Tis her pride that drives her.”

He shrugged. “Lady Katherine's motives matter little. Avalon must be reclaimed. I refuse to allow my wife to interfere.”

“'Tis the Templar way to protect the defenseless and weak. Except,” Thomas said, “the lass is neither. Consider allowing Lady Katherine to continue sparring. Honing her skills will improve her ability to protect herself and be of value to the castle's defenses in the years ahead.”

Years ahead, bloody damn!
He didna want to ponder a lifetime with her. “She sails with us. 'Tis enough.”

“Is it? I think you are creating unnecessary strife.”

He glared at Thomas. “Leave it.”

“I would if your reasoning made sense. You behave as if this is personal, as if . . .” Disbelief flickered in the knight's eyes, and then they crinkled with mirth. “God in heaven, you are fond of your wife.”

He scowled. “I am as fond of her as curdled milk in a cesspit.”

“A strong statement for a man who doesna care.”

Stephan shot him a hard look. “I dinna hate her.”

“So the lass is on your mind, is she?”

“Blast it,” Stephan ground out, “I dinna have time for this foolery.”

“What if your wife would like to continue training with us, would you allow her?”

Stephan eyed him, weighing his question. 'Twas a reasonable request. “If after I speak with Katherine she wishes to train further, I will allow it. When we head into battle, regardless of her skills, she remains onboard.”

Thomas nodded. “Fair enough.”

Frustrated by the woman who'd invaded his life like a well-planned assault, Stephan headed toward the ladder. As he strode down the narrow passageway, the door to his cabin stood closed.

With a muttered curse, he halted before the entry, gave a sharp rap. “Katherine.”

Clipped steps sounded on the opposite side. Metal scraped. The door jerked open. His wife's cool gaze held his. “What do you want?”