Forbidden Legacy (9 page)

His friend lay his hand on Stephan's shoulder. “Your wife is fortunate to have you as her protector, but at this moment, she also needs a friend.”

Blast it! “Do you nae think I understand what my wife needs?”

Eyes troubled, Thomas dropped his hand. “There is a difference between understanding and the ability to offer compassion. After your own youth, years passed before you let anyone close. Are you willing to risk being Lady Katherine's friend?”

“God's blade, I married her!”

“A marriage to procure Avalon Castle for the Templars, and in exchange we train the king's knights, give monetary aid, and support the sovereign in battle,” Thomas said. “Each reason offering little cause to build a foundation of friendship.”

A muscle worked in Stephan's jaw. “You are a warrior; you understand sacrifice,” Thomas continued, “but the lass . . . As well as compassion, she needs friendship, which you can give her.” He departed.

Haunted by Thomas's words, Stephan strode above deck. Had anyone else given him such advice, they could have gone to Hades. But Thomas had endured horrific tragedy as well, understood the cost of daring to offer friendship, of placing himself in a position where if he risked sharing his past with another he could open himself up to be hurt.

Sunlight blinded him as he reached the deck. Stephan shielded his eyes.

Across the deck, Katherine stood looking out from the bow, hair fluttering across her cheek.

Thomas's words of friendship echoed in his mind. He grimaced. The situation wasna so simple.

A gust blew the hair from her face, exposed her chalky pallor.

God's blade! He wasna offering friendship but, as her husband, his concern. If the lass decided to speak to him, 'twould be her choice. Discussion wasna a bond but duty. Stephan strode over.

Her body tensed at his approach.

Stephan remained quiet, understanding her silent battle, the difficulty of dealing with emotions tearing you apart, the brutal hurt that could leave you an empty shell, fighting to breathe.

* * *

Katherine's vision blurred against the rush of wind, the tang of the sea strong and the call of birds echoing in the distance.

Her husband remained.

Irritated, she focused on the wisps of seaweed sliding past. Why had he come?

With an easy grace, Stephan rested against the rail, scanned the roll of water, his every movement relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world.

Behind them, came the pad of steps, calls from men to one another, assuring her the crew went about their daily chores.

Shame washed through Katherine as she recalled the way she'd fled their meeting. The flood of emotions when she'd mentioned Avalon Castle had caught her off guard. “I had to leave,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Unsure of how he'd reply, kindness wasna one of her expectations. From the corner of her eye, she peered over.

His gaze remained riveted on the sea.

Unsure what else to say, she remained silent. Again, 'twould seem she'd misjudged him. When she'd first met Stephan, she'd believed him a knight, a man whose life was dedicated to war. But she'd nae expected his understanding or care, more so after being forced into an unwanted marriage.

A swell rolled past. Sunlight filtered through sprays of white as the bow cut through the water, igniting shimmers of rainbows that were gone as quickly.

Gathering her courage, she exhaled. “I dinna want the men to think I am weak.”

“None will judge you for your upset. Anger for which you have every right.”

“Anger aids naught.”

Stephan turned, his expression solemn. “Anger makes us human, a reminder that however much we hurt, however empty we feel, however alone we are in our lives, we still hold the ability to care.”

Hot tears burned her throat. “After losing those you love,” she rasped, “how is it possible to ever risk caring for someone again?”

Pain streaked through him, and for a moment he closed his eyes.

A wave slammed against the hull, then another.

He lifted his lids. Eyes dark with turmoil met hers. “I am unsure.”

Confused, she turned toward him. “But you agreed to marriage?”

“Marriage doesna invite caring, but responsibility. Our union was an act of duty.”

“For the
greater good
?” she said, remembering his earlier claim, unsure if she was hurt by his words or relieved.

A faraway look touched his eyes and his expression hardened. “Aye.”

Baffled that she found solace in his presence, she looked away. Were her reasons for agreeing to their marriage so different than his? Still, foolishly, she'd nurtured the possibility that they would find common ground. If fortunate, over time build a friendship, mayhap more.

That he had stolen any hope of the latter left her empty. Her grip on the rail tightened. “Why are you here?”

“You were distraught.”

“And you wanted to ensure what? As you said, I am naught but a duty. Why did you nae send another man to see to me?”

“You are being irrational.”

“Am I?” Temper slid into Katherine's voice. “Because I was foolish enough to believe that you came to me because you were concerned for my welfare? Dinna worry; you have made your feelings toward me clear. I willna make such an error again.”

Frustration flashed in his eyes, but he remained silent.

Well, 'twould seem he wasna as immune to her as he would like. “Why did you come here?”

Hazel eyes grew guarded and he glanced toward the aft of the ship.

“Go on,” she said, finding she wanted him to remain, unsure if 'twas wise. “'Tis safest that way.”

Face taut, he glared at her. “I didna imagine a woman like you in my life.”

She arched a brow.

He shoved away from the rail. “Blast it, you are nae what I expected!”

Stunned by his vehemence, aware this moment was a turning point between them, she watched him, needing to see his reaction. “And what did you expect?”

With a muttered curse, he glanced toward the stern. His throat worked, and then he gave an exasperated sigh. “A wife in name only.”

Which explained to a degree his leaving her untouched on their wedding night. “But . . . ?”

Eyes narrowed, Stephan met her gaze. “I didna expect a strong woman, a lass who intrigues me, a wife who is braver than many men. How can I nae admire you, or . . .” He muttered a curse.

K
atherine stared at her husband, unsure if she was more stunned that Stephan admired her or at his unfinished comment suggesting more.

A surge of need caught her off guard. Mary have mercy, she desired him. After the brutal assault years before, she'd never expected to find herself drawn to a man. Uncertain how to proceed, to respond to the emotions he inspired, she focused on his admission. There would be time to mull the other thoughts later.

She sensed her husband was afraid of allowing himself to care for another, yet he'd risked that by his confession. More humbling, however much he didna approve of his growing feelings toward her, aware she struggled with the loss of her family, he'd set aside his own disquiet to be with her.

Moved by his thoughtfulness, she lay her hand over his, forced herself to smile. “You are nae what I expected to find either.”

A muscle worked in his jaw, but he remained silent.

Katherine removed her hand. “I misjudged you,” she continued, uncertain what to say but needing to try to explain. “When I first met you, I saw a knight bound by honor and duty, one who I was doubtful I could like.” His eyes narrowed and comfort swept through her. For the first time she found herself on equal footing with him. “Now I see a man, one who, if I were asked, intrigues me as well.”

“Dinna,” he whispered.

She arched a brow, far from deterred by his warning. Since they'd met his considerate actions had assured her that he wasna a man given to abuse. Her husband's intention to keep her at a distance made her feel safe and, something she'd nae expected in his company, confident.

More astonishing, since the assault, she'd never completely relaxed around a man who was nae family or a close friend, or felt at ease. With Stephan she was experiencing both.

Perplexed by this startling turn of events, however much her husband wanted to keep them at a distance, she wished to become friends. From his manner, that would be a challenge, but for a man with whom she'd spend the rest of her life, 'twould be time well spent.

“I appreciate your coming to see me,” Katherine said, her words sincere.

His body relaxed a degree.

With a slow glide, she rubbed her fingers along the weathered wood. “Most men wouldna have cared.”

Silence.

“But then,” she continued, determined to find a way to break through his cool façade, “you are my husband.”

A wry smile touched his lips. “A vow of marriage offers little assurance that a man will care for his wife.”

“Indeed.” A point he'd made more than clear. Neither would she be lured by the bait he'd subtly cast. “Though ours isna a match of love, the king chose wisely. I shouldna have expected otherwise from my godfather.”

Shrewd hazel eyes studied hers as the galley rocked upon the roll of water. “You and your godfather are close?”

“Aye,” she replied, memories of his and her father's laughter leaving her melancholy. “During my youth Robert Bruce visited Avalon Castle often.”

“Which by your loyalty to our sovereign,” he said quietly, “would make you an enemy of England's king.”

“It would,” Katherine agreed. “After my refusing to wed Edward of Caernarfon's choice and escaping the Earl of Preswick's capture and leaving him embarrassed by a wee lass, even more so.”

With ease, Stephan leaned against the rail at her side. “Your having made such a formidable enemy doesna worry you?”

Anger moved through her. “I refuse to be cowed by a man consumed with building power, uncaring how many innocent people he slaughters. With his father's passing, I pray for a wiser man as England's king.” She shrugged. “I hope that mayhap the new king's ordering Avalon seized and me forced to wed his noble wasna driven by his own desire, but prodded by those who hold the king's ear.”

“I believe 'tis the latter,” Stephan agreed. “After his father's death, instead of pushing his troops deeper into Scotland, he returned to England to deal with his new duties concerning matters of the crown, as well as his impending marriage. The Earl of Pembroke, whom he left in charge at Cumnock, is far from a man driven. With Scotland in a state of civil war and his interests elsewhere, 'tis doubtful Edward of Caernarfon will be returning any time soon.”

Katherine nodded, finding wisdom in her husband's belief. “I pray he is nae a cold, heartless ruler like his father.”

“I pray so as well.” Her husband shook his head. “Many rulers never learn that to subdue people by threats doesna breed loyalty but fear, and more often rebellion.”

Emotions raw, she scanned the soft roll of the swells, unsettled by thoughts of their country's future. Katherine glanced over. “Though Robert Bruce is an excellent strategist, I worry that our king's ambitions to claim Scotland will be hindered by his lack of gold, as well as training and arms for his knights.”

For a long moment Stephan studied her, his gaze intense, as if weighing his words.

Intrigued by his reaction, she shifted, aligning her body with his. “What causes such deep contemplation?”

“Have faith in our king. As you said, he is an excellent strategist, and a man whom I believe has more assets than many understand.”

“Such as?”

“The source is the Bruce's to share.”

But he knew. Were he and his knights' arrival at Urquhart Castle a planned event to support Robert Bruce to reunite Scotland? 'Twas logical, but it didna explain the need for her and Stephan to marry. Or had their arrival to meet with Robert Bruce been a coincidence, one that for whatever his reason, the king had determined should end in her and Stephan's marriage?

Her husband took a step back. “You seem calmer now.”

“I am, I thank you.”

He began to turn.

“Stephan.”

Muscles tense, he met her gaze.

“I believe,” she said with a smile, “that we have reached a tentative friendship.”

Illuminated by the dimming light as clouds moved in from the west to shield the sun, he watched her, his expression unreadable. “Far from it, and however much either of us wishes, I doubt we ever will.” Boots tapped on the deck as he strode toward his men without looking back.

* * *

In the distance, lightning cut through the night, brilliant flashes that illuminated the heavens. Stephan frowned, the clear skies to the west fading as a layer of clouds moved eastward, smothering the few remaining stars.

“A storm is moving in,” Thomas said, pausing at his side.

The slap of rough seas echoed against the hull as the ship cut through the building swells. “Indeed,” Stephan agreed. “I pray the bad weather blows through quickly.”

“As do I.” Thomas glanced toward the ladder. “How fares Lady Katherine?”

“Better.”

“Better?” his friend asked, a tinge of humor in his voice. The smile on his face faded. “In a way you are fortunate.”

Curious, Stephan glanced at him. “How so?”

“By assenting to King Robert's offer of marriage to Katherine, you didna have to deal with the strife of moving past the vows of chastity that, regardless of the Grand Master's dissolution, Templars cleave to.”

“And that makes me fortunate?” He grunted. “Sentenced is more like it.”

His friend gave a soft chuckle. “There could be worse punishments than being married to a beautiful woman.”

“She is that,” Stephan grudgingly agreed.

“And intelligent.”

“Aye.”

“And thoughtful.”

“God's blade, Thomas, well I know Lady Katherine's attributes. Had we nae been forced to wed, I . . .”

Thomas arched a brow. “Would have what?”

On a sigh, Stephan rubbed the back of his neck. “I would have noticed her.”

“And done nay more.”

Frustrated with the entire situation, he shot his friend an accusatory look. “Neither would you.” As if he wanted a blasted wife? Regardless of the Grand Master's dissolving the Templar vows and his entreaty to marry, or the awareness that rippled through him whenever he saw his wife, Stephan didna want marriage.

“Aye,” his friend agreed. “None of the Templars wished this exile from the duty we loved, a life we'd sworn to uphold until our death.”

With a muttered curse, Stephan inhaled, the tang of the sea strong, the air potent with the unspent energy of the approaching storm. He debated telling his friend of Katherine's desire to build a bond between them. Unsure if he should discuss the matter, he glanced skyward.

“Something is on your mind.”

Blast it. He faced Thomas. “The lass wishes to be my friend.”

“'Twill make your life easier.”

“Nay,” Stephan said before his friend could say more. “I refused.”

Surprise flickered on the Templar's face. “Why?” Thomas asked with surprise. “Friendship between you and your wife would be wise. Once the castle is secured and after we have trained King Robert's troops, nay doubt we will be heading into battle. Leaving Avalon in the hands of a trusted friend is preferable to the safekeeping of a woman scorned.”

“Do you think I dinna know that?” Stephan said, all of the reasons why he should agree to a bond of friendship weighing upon him like boulders. “But I canna.”

Somber eyes held his. “I understand your hesitation, but there may be another reason you havena contemplated.”

Doubtful such an explanation existed, Stephan arched a brow. “And that would be?”

“That God has crossed your path with Lady Katherine's for a reason.”

He grunted. “Think you a spiritual connection would make the situation better?”

“Why does it bother you to think mayhap 'tis His intervention?” his friend asked.

He remained silent, nae wanting to discuss the matter further.

“I will tell you,” Thomas continued. “Because then your marriage would be something you could accept.”

'Twas foolish. Insane. And made sense. He shrugged. “Mayhap.”

“My advice—”

“I didna ask for it.”

“In regard to Lady Katherine's offer of friendship,” Thomas continued, as if Stephan hadna spoken, “let time and circumstance dictate your path. If you find your friendship growing into something more, then you will know 'tis His blessing you have received.”

Stephan scowled.

“At times in our lives we are given situations we dinna understand,” Thomas continued. “But later, when we look back, we see the wisdom gleaned in the challenges faced, the lessons learned that will serve us in our lives ahead.”

With Katherine, it was advice he doubted. “And she is my challenge?”

“Mayhap,” his friend said, “the challenge is yourself.”

Blast it, the problem wasna himself, 'twas . . .

Recollections rolled through Stephan: how, upon witnessing his parents' death, he'd vowed never again to allow anyone close. Throat tight, against his every wish, he conceded the truth. 'Twas nae friendship with the lass that left him on edge. With her intelligence, beauty, and the need she inspired when they were close, his greatest fear was that he wanted more.

A rain-laden gust whipped past. Thunder boomed in the distance.

On a hard swallow, he hauled his mind from unwanted thoughts of his wife, from the damning reality he struggled to accept. “The clouds are closing fast. I will make one last round before the storm arrives. Tell the others to ensure all the cargo is secure.”

“Aye.” Thomas held his gaze. “Whatever decision you make, I have confidence 'twill be the right one for you both.” He strode off.

God's blade, he didna need anyone! However much Stephan wanted to ignore his friend's words, they held wisdom. More important, if he agreed to his wife's offer of friendship, 'twas a bond by a few simple words undone.

Thunder boomed.

He scanned the clouds churning overhead, refusing to ponder whether their fate was indeed guided by a higher power.

Furious at the chaos Katherine had tossed into his disciplined life, Stephan muttered a curse and started to ensure the knots on the cargo, paces away, were secure.

* * *

Against the backdrop of the slate-gray sunrise, another wave slammed the hull.

Wood crunched against rocks.

The ship listed toward starboard.

Stephan shouted to hold on as he clung to the rail, prayed the galley hadna sustained major damage.

On a groan, the vessel shuddered, began shifting upright.

Determined to see the extent of the damage to the ship, Stephan pushed through the buffeting wind to the ladder. Rain lashed his body as he scrambled below.

Down the passageway, cast in the shadows of a hanging lantern swinging to and fro, Katherine stood braced at the entry of her cabin.

Worry shot through him. “Are you hurt?”

Eyes dark with concern held his. “Nay. What of the ship?”

“I am on my way to find out,” he replied, his voice gruff.

“Stephan!” Aiden called from the stern.

“Coming!” He shot her a warning look. “Unless I tell you otherwise, remain here.” Pressing his hand against the bulkhead to keep his balance, he started back.

Another wave rocked the ship.

The hull crunched against stone, and a high-pitched scrape ripped through the air.

On a curse, paces away, Thomas caught hold of a nearby timber, held tight.

Stephan caught a nearby beam, pulled himself forward. As he made to take another step, the crash of another swell echoed through the ship.