Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2) (34 page)

R
iorden slowed
Beast
to a halt at the rise of a hill and looked down upon the land surrounding Dunhaven Manor. His father used to tell him how his mother had always loved this country estate, not far from the hustle and bustle of London. He had said she thought ’twas just far enough from the city limits to give her the feeling she was still north at Warkworth. He had been told she did not care for life in the city, nor that of court.

He shared her sentiments, not that he remembered much of his dame. Dying young, giving birth to his brother Gavin, his only reminder of her was a small portrait he had carried with him for years whilst in service to Dristan. He would see if the larger painting that once graced the Great Hall could be found. It should be hung in a place of honor. Although he would not be surprised to learn Marguerite had burned it to ashes.

She moved her horse forwards ’til she was abreast of him, almost as if she knew his thoughts had momentarily settled upon her. Sighing with pleasure at the sight below, she turned her sparkling eyes in his direction. “’Tis lovely, is it not, Riorden?”

“I have heard tell my mother always thought so,” he answered, still thinking of a woman he had never truly known. Of all the estates Marguerite could have chosen as her dower house, he was unpleasantly taken aback that his sire had allowed her to choose the one place his mother had called her own. He should have not given it a second thought. ’Twas of no consequence to him where she lived, as long as he could soon be rid of this troublesome woman. He just wished she had chosen another estate.

“Aye, well...’tis mine now, and I shall endeavor to make the place my own.” Marguerite reached out, placing her hand upon his arm. “You will stay, will you not, to ensure all is in order?”

“Only as long as necessary, Marguerite. I have a wife waiting for me at home and Warkworth is still in need of provisions to be readied for the winter.”

She smothered a laugh with a gaze upon him that at one time he would have seen as a come hither look. Years ago, he would have taken her up on what she was silently offering. He was thankful those days were long since gone, and he now had an understanding of what true love really was all about.

He nudged Beast with his knee, and they began a slow trot down the hill. Afore long, they were dismounting, and he was assisting Marguerite from her mare. He did not care that her hands lingered longer upon his shoulders than they should have. He ignored the looks cast at him from Ulrick and Nathaniel and made for the manor’s front door. Reaching for the knob, Riorden barely touched the cool metal afore the door was hastily wrenched inwards.

A gasp greeted him, along with the shocked expression on the servant’s face. “Bless me soul, ’tis the young master!”

“Good day, Timmons,” Riorden said with a fond smile. “’Tis good to see you still watching over the old place.”

“Where else would I go, Sir Riorden, since this ’as been me ’ome for as long as I can remember?”

Marguerite pushed her way into the entryway, much like a full blown thunder cloud. “’Tis Lord de Deveraux to you!” she ordered. “He now holds his father’s title of Earl.”

“Apologies, milord,” Timmons replied carefully and inclined his head to Marguerite. “Countess...’tis good to ’ave yer return.”

“Harrumph! I should think so,” she muttered snidely.

Riorden patted the old man on his back. “Can you see to having chambers aired out for the Countess, along with me and my men, Timmons? We plan to stay here to see to what stores you may need for the coming winter months afore the Countess returns to move in permanently.”

“Of course, milord. I shall see to it at once.”

Timmons left the entryway with shuffling feet, and Riorden’s gaze swept the manor with a practiced eye. The place was chilled to the bone, and he pondered how much work would really need to be done afore Marguerite would be comfortable enough to see to her own needs. Knowing her as he did, he would not be surprised if she encouraged him to stay till spring.

M
arguerite pulled
her hood closer about her hair as she quickly made her way to the stables. Darkness had descended, but the cold night, for her, usually brought with it her dead husband. For once, she was glad he had not been able to follow her to Dunhaven Manor. Perchance, his soul was destined to remain at Warkworth, since that is where he died. ’Twas just an assumption on her part, but she thought it sounded logical if things of this nature ever really did make any kind of sense in an otherwise normal world.

Normal? Bah!
There was nothing normal about her life of late. Haunted by a dead husband she never should have married, and her ex-lover returned with a wife!
Wife!
Who would have thought Riorden would disobey the king and get himself married without permission up near the wilds of that barbarian land of Scotland? She swore she would have him once more, no matter the cost. Drastic times called for drastic measures. ’Twould not be the first time she would use whatever she needed to ensure she receive all that was due her! He was supposed to be mine.
Damn Katherine’s soul to hell!

Watching her steps and surroundings to ensure her secrecy, she carefully opened the wooden door to the stables and cringed when it squeaked loudly to her ears. No one seemed to be there with the exception of the animals, more’s the pity. He was late, and she would tell him how displeased she was with his tardiness. She could not afford to be caught this night, not if she wanted to fulfill her plan to have Riorden back in her bed. Once there, she knew her beauty alone would have him mesmerized. Then and only then, would she know that he had not forgotten her all those years ago, and that they could spend their days making up for lost time. ’Twould be of little consequence to her, knowing his wife would also conveniently disappear.

A soft whistle met her ears. She searched the darkened interior of the room afore espying a man stepping from the shadows and coming to nonchalantly lean on one of the pillars towards the center of the stable. She glared at him when she recognized his familiar face as he stared at her, as if he had all the time in the world.

“I see you got my missive I sent from Warkworth, but you are late,” she hissed, “and ’tis not the first time.”

He looked her up and down, admiring her form afore he broke out into a wicked grin. “Seems to me you are the one who is late, madam, since I have been waiting for you all of a score of minutes.”

Marguerite looked up at his handsome profile and remembered the last time they had met. She came to stand afore him, and he reached out to caress her cheek with his finger. She shivered, despite the fact that she had no intention of tumbling with him in the hay...not that they had not done such afore. ’Twas not that it had been an unpleasant coupling, but she had other things on her mind this night that certainly did not include him.

“Not tonight, Warin,” she told him with disinterest. She watched him shrug, as if it mattered little to him if he took her or not. Although she felt put out that he did not press the issue, Marguerite got back to the subject at hand. “Do you have what I seek?”

“For shame, Marguerite. Do you have no time for play? The night is still young after all.”

“Nay. I will be missed at the manor.”

He gave a knowing smirk that struck a chord of disdain, causing her eyes to narrow. “I doubt it, my pet.”

She watched as Warin opened up a satchel and pulled out a small vial of liquid. She held out her hands, greedily, but he only lifted the container high above her head, out of reach. “And what do you have as payment for me, my dear Countess? Something worthy enough, I hope, for all the trouble I have gone through on your behalf.”

“The other is set in place, then?” she inquired with a gleeful smile.

“Was there any doubt? You paid me well. Why would you think I would not keep my end of the bargain?”

“When?”

“A se’nnight, mayhap more. These things take time to set in motion. I do not wish to be caught dirtying my hands for you, no matter how fond I am of your delectable body.”

“I am most grateful for your assistance, Warin,” she voiced softly, and yet still wary of what price she would pay this night for his help.

“Just how grateful are you, my dear? Although you are the best tumble I have had in some time, I do not relish having my neck stretched on a rope for you,” Warin pushed off the beam and walked around her, making her uneasy. “Why do you care what happens to her anyway? Was not getting rid of your husband enough for you?”

She went to slap his face, but he easily grabbed her wrist, giving it a small twist. She cried out. “How dare you?” Marguerite gasped.

He laughed in her face as he leaned down but inches from her own. “My, my, my...you have become quite the little martyr, have you not? You kill your husband and plan to get rid of his son’s wife then act as if you have been the one wronged.”

“Who do you think you are to judge me so?” she declared with ferocity through clenched teeth.

“I am the man who still holds something you want,” he gave her a mischievous grin, holding out the flask, “or did you forget about this?”

“Will it work?”

“Again, you doubt me. I should be hurt by your refusal to take me at my word.”

“Why should I trust you that it will not kill him, too?”

“If you had followed my instructions, your dear departed husband would still be alive and most biddable so you could find where he hid his gold,” he said roughly. “I told you, but a drop or two would do the trick, and he would have told you anything you asked of him, but you never did listen to me.”

“I have looked everywhere I could think as to where Everard may have hid his coinage, but to no avail. If I find his monies, I will pay you handsomely, as I promised you I would for helping me.” Marguerite reached for the vial again. “Give it to me!” she ordered. Her eyes widened when he rubbed his manhood up against her.

“’Tis exactly what I had in mind,” he said as he pulled her into the shadows of the stable and chuckled. “Mayhap, you would be worth it after all.”

’Twas some time later that Marguerite carefully made her way back into the manor with a satisfied grin on her visage. Warin may be a bit of a brute, but he truly did know how to make her moan in pleasure. As she made her way to her chamber, she passed Riorden’s door and fondly remembered their brief time together. With a shake of her head and the vial hidden in the folds of her cloak, she was appeased with the knowledge that he, too, would be in her bed afore long. As for his wife...well...she would not be around much longer to be a problem at all. As far as Marguerite was concerned, Katherine’s demise could not happen soon enough.

K
atherine’s legs
were
beginning to cramp. How long she had been kneeling on the cold, hard stones of the chapel floor, praying for Riorden’s safety, she couldn’t say. Her knees had become numb at least an hour ago, and yet still she kept her vigil before the marble statue of St. Christopher. It was the least she could do for her peace of mind, since there was little else to occupy her thoughts other than her own musings warring inside her head.

She couldn’t remember ever having prayed so much in her life. Each morning since Riorden had left, she attended mass with the other inhabitants of the castle. The small chapel, located next to the barbican gate, filled up quickly, but her place as the keep’s new mistress was always reserved in the front. Personally, she wouldn’t have minded if she blended in with the rest of the people who crammed the benches behind her. She couldn’t understand the Latin the priest spoke anyway, but she knew it was important she set a good example. At least Gavin, Brianna, and Aiden kept her company so she didn’t sit alone.

She heard someone enter the chapel but continued on with her prayers...prayers she was unsure were going to be answered any time in the near future. Was she even praying in earnest? She didn’t think so, since her mind continued to wander in so many directions, her heart was just plain aching.

She was ruining it all, and with little help from Marguerite! How many times had she been warned that her time here at Warkworth would be put to the test until that vicious woman would be dispatched to her dower house? Well, she was at her dower house, all right...along with
her
husband! She knew they would both be returning soon to Warkworth, as one trip wouldn’t be sufficient, but it grated on her nerves that they were basically alone together. Her faith in her marriage wavered in uncertainty, knowing there was nothing to stop Marguerite from taking what she wanted most. Why she even doubted Riorden and the love they bore one another only confused her more.

Jealousy! Was there really any other emotion that could tear a relationship apart faster than jealousy? It had always been the worst emotion for her to try and control, most likely because she had been cheated on more than once in her past. It was hard for her to trust people, and, because she had been hurt in her past relationships, she was left feeling vulnerable and alone.

With her emotions raw and her current state of being pregnant, everything and anything was escalated tenfold. She was angry with the world. She was angry that Riorden, at the very least, hadn’t taken her with him. More importantly, she was angry with herself for letting Marguerite get the best of her. Yet, she had no idea how to stop all these horrible feelings from rearing up in the forefront of her mind. The knife in her back twisted sharply to the point where she could almost feel someone pouring salt into the open wound. She supposed the thought of being poisoned tended to do that to a person. If only Riorden would have listened to her concerns before he rode away still irritated at her behavior.

“How long has she been at it today?”

Katherine winced hearing Aiden’s voice behind her, and his loudness seemed out of place within the quiet chapel.

“Long enough,” Caldwell’s low deep voice answered from his constant vigil against the chapel wall. Even his tone spoke that he felt she had done her duty toward her husband from the length of her prayers.

“I can’t get her to leave, Aiden,” Brianna answered, clearly exasperated with her efforts that had failed. “Even Gavin had no luck.”

Katherine sighed, knowing Aiden would be determined to take care of her, since she had been put under his protection. For someone younger than her by two years, he tended to be pretty bossy. In the last week, she barely had the energy to fight with him anymore.

She began to move at his gentle urging as he lightly steadied her arm at her elbow. Her legs wobbled, and if not for Aiden’s arm snaking around her waist, she would have fallen.

“Easy now, Katherine. I have you,” he said quietly. “Do you even have the slightest inkling in that pretty little head of yours that he shall have mine served on a platter if any harm befalls you?”

“Who?” she asked softly, still trying to get her footing as the blood rushed down her tingling legs. She gritted her teeth, not wanting to disturb the sanctuary of the chapel by stomping her sleeping feet as the pin pricks pierced each one with every step she took.

“Your husband, that is who, my lady. When he put you in my care, I am sure ’twas not for you to spend all of your days praying for his soul. I must admit, however, that I respect your dedication on his behalf. If only I could be so lucky as to have someone who loved me just as deeply.”

She looked up into his violet eyes with tears shimmering in her own. “I only mean to do all I can to keep him safe, Aiden,” she barely managed to say.

“I know we do not know each other well, Katherine, but I must needs ask. Where is the woman who stood up to Riorden at Berwyck not that long ago? She was a feisty wench, and I admired her spirit. I am just as sure your husband did, as well.”

She shook her head sadly and sat down next to Brianna on the bench. Aiden came and sat on the other side of her. “I don’t know who she is anymore. I’m so afraid...” Her voice trailed off, since she wasn’t sure she should worry anyone, especially Brianna, with what Lord Everard had told her.

She watched as Aiden and Brie exchanged silent glances with one another before Aiden made a gesture that Brianna seemingly interpreted as asking her to leave. She rose, gave Katherine a brief kiss on the cheek and left the chapel.

“I will watch her now, Caldwell,” Aiden insisted. “You have my word no harm shall befall your mistress.”

“If you insist,” Caldwell replied, clearly not sure he should be leaving her side. He seemed to be everywhere she went, and to be honest, Katherine wouldn’t mind a little privacy for a change.

“I do,” Aiden answered as he watched Caldwell take his leave.

Katherine took a deep breath. “Thank you for that.”

“Now...we are alone, so tell me what has you so frightened that you act like a meek little mouse instead of the lioness I know you can be?” He reached for her hand, giving it a small pat until she gave him the briefest of smiles.

“Me? A lioness? I hardly think so Aiden, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He gave a brief laugh. “Oh, I think she is still there. We must needs bring her back is all,” he said. “So tell me your fears and hold nothing back, for I cannot in good conscious protect you fully unless I know what I may come up against.”

Katherine gave a heavy sigh before she began telling him everything that had occurred. Once she started, she found it hard to stop as she unburdened her soul, not only from her distress of seeing Marguerite ride off with Riorden, but also for all the past hurt she had endured in her younger years. He listened compassionately until she began spilling the beans about what Lord Everard had said, and then Aiden’s temper erupted.

He began to pace frantically in front of her. Katherine could only assume he forgot he was in a church, since she could have sworn she heard a curse word or two thrown in with all the Gaelic that came spewing forth from his mouth. He must have suddenly realized what he was doing, for he gave a brief bow to the altar, made the sign of the cross, and took her elbow again, steering her away from the chapel. Not until they were in the open afternoon air did he at last speak to her.

“Let us away, lassie. There is much to do afore Riorden returns, and I must needs have speech with him,” Aiden declared, still ushering her across the baily.

“But he refuses to hear anything about his father. I don’t think you should test his temper,” she warned. “It wasn’t a pretty sight, I assure you.”

“I should think he had better start listening, especially if it means the wellbeing of his wife!”

He continued dragging her along until she tugged on his arm to slow his frantic pace. “Where are we going?” she asked, trying to catch her breath.

“’Tis obvious, is it not?” He waited for Katherine to answer, but she only stared at him dumbfounded. “If you are going to stay here, then ’tis time you learn to ride. At least I will know that if the need arises, you will be able to get yourself to a horse to flee the grounds.”

“But, Aiden, I−”

He held up his hand to stop her and then got the strangest look upon his face. “Katherine...how do I say this without being...well...we just do not speak of such things to ladies we are not wed to.”

She gave a bubbly laugh for the first time in a long while then hid her smile behind her hand. “Are you talking about my pregnancy, Aiden?” She laughed again as she saw him blush as red as the roots of his hair.

“’Tis unseemly to discuss the subject, I know, but I feel the matter must needs be addressed,” he muttered in embarrassment.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a modern kind of gal, since it’s no big deal to speak of such things where I come from,” she said. “Would you like to feel the bump I’ve got growing here?”

“Eee gads, no! Riorden would have my head for sure if I dared such a liberty!” Aiden bellowed.

Katherine’s laughter rang out again. “No? Well, I won’t pressure you, but I assure you it’s perfectly fine in the twenty-first century.”

“’Tis a good thing I have no intention of going anywhere near your future world if the women are as bold as you. I do not think my chivalry would last very long with all the temptation.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Aiden, but what was your point of this whole conversation?”

“Just that you be careful. I would not wish to be the cause of you losing Riorden’s heir.”

“I will be,” Katherine promised.

Heading into the stables, Aiden made to grab a side saddle, and Katherine reached out her hand to halt his progress.

“No way, Aiden. If you’re going to teach me to ride, I want a normal saddle, if you please.”

“But, Katherine, ’tis not seemly that you should ride thusly.” Aiden stared at her as if she had lost all sense in her head. She folded her arms in front of her and gave him a look her mother would have been proud of.

“If you want me to be careful, then get a regular saddle. No woman should swing her leg over such a device and perch herself only half way on with the constant fear of falling off.”

She listened as Aiden began cursing again, voicing his objections, but she ignored his grumblings. Surely, it had to have been a man who invented such a stupid convention that women must adhere to. But she would ride as she saw fit and be damned of how anyone thought of her. The only opinion that mattered anyway was her husband’s.

Katherine felt somewhat lighthearted for the first time in over a week since Riorden left. With Aiden’s help, they began her lessons on how to ride. She soon realized she wasn’t about to become an expert horsewoman overnight, but at least she put everything into what Aiden was attempting to teach her. Her only thoughts were to prove to Riorden that he could be proud of her. She could already imagine the look on his face when he saw she had attempted to learn to ride in his absence. With that thought in mind, she smiled, knowing he would soon be coming back home...to her.