Forbidden Legacy (18 page)

“I could have done naught else.”

She could have, but her action bespoke a woman of honor, one with whom any man would be blessed to share his life. Without warning, need roared through him, and he lowered his mouth, halted a whisper above hers.

Shaken by his action, Stephan released her; aware the kiss wasna from desire, but his need to believe that from this moment of darkness, hope could arise. Still, in his mind, the reason excused naught. “I am sorry. 'Twas wrong.”

“I—”

“Say naught.” He took her hand. “The day has been a difficult one for us all. 'Tis time to rest.” In silence he led her toward the door.

* * *

Stephan tipped the bucket over his head. Water splashed onto his face as he turned into the cold stream.

At his side, Thomas scrubbed the dirt from his body, tossed the crumpled cloth aside. “The last man is buried.”

Stephan nodded as he dried his face, appreciating the cool freshness against the layers of sweat and dirt from the grueling work of the last few hours. A gruesome deed, one thankfully behind them. “With a messenger sent to deliver our ransom demand to Edward of Caernarfon, we can begin rebuilding Avalon, as well as shoring up its defenses.”

His friend lifted another water-filled bucket and poured. Thomas shook his head, set aside the wooden container, and grabbed a cloth.

Across the bailey, a woman, her face weathered, her silver hair hanging in a long braid over her shoulder, shuffled toward the keep, a basket in her hand.

Stephan watched her slow but determined steps as memories crashed through him. It couldna be. He'd thought anyone he would have known from his youth had gone or long since died.

He glanced at his friend. “Thomas, make a list of what needs to be done, and then make assignments for the men. There is something I must do.”

Through the side of the wadded linen, his friend glanced over. “What is it?”

Stephan shook his head. “I will explain later.” Tightness squeezing his chest, he strode after the woman, quickened his pace when she disappeared inside the keep. As he entered, he caught a wisp of her gown as she entered the turret. He lengthened his stride, hurried up the curve of smoothed stone.

Several steps up, Stephan caught sight of her. “Eufemie?”

The elder turned. Torchlight from the sconces illuminated the furrows on her aged brow. Disbelief widened her eyes, and the hand carrying her basket grew white. “God in heaven. Lord Stephan?”

Happiness filled him as memories came back, of her tending him as a lad, of the stories she would tell. “Aye,” he replied, his voice rough.

The elder wiped the tears from her eyes, stepped down. A smile wobbled on her lips. “You have come home.”

He glanced down the steps. Confident nay one was about, he nodded. “Where are you headed?”

“To bring herbs to one of the wounded knights.” Shrewd eyes studied him. “He would be your man, aye?”

“He would.”

Pride glowed on her face. “I knew you would return. Your da would have been so proud.”

He had his doubts, nor would he speak of this further. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Sage eyes held his. “I know of a place.” Basket secured on her arm, Eufemie headed up the steps.

In the privacy of an empty chamber, Stephan explained that, after the attack so many years ago, he'd escaped. Upon reaching the home of a distant uncle, he'd learned the man was dead.

The thick folds on her brow sagged. “ 'Twas too much for a lad to face alone.”

His mouth tightened. “ 'Tis in the past.”

“Mayhap, but those terrible times haunt you.”

“Memories, naught more,” he stated, keeping his voice empty, refusing to allow the pain, the hurt, to take hold. “Now I am back, rightful heir to Avalon, a legacy I will keep.”

“Rightful heir?” A frown edged her mouth. “I spoke with Lady Katherine earlier this day and she said . . .” Shock, disbelief, and then acceptance flickered on her face. “You wed your enemy's daughter?”

Guilt washed through him. “She doesna know of her father's actions. Neither do I intend for her to ever discover the truth.”

The healer tsked. “'Tis a burden to keep such a powerful secret from the lass.”

“Mayhap, but on this I willna be swayed.”

Troubled eyes held his, and she made the sign of the cross. “You must tell Lady Katherine. If she discovers that her father murdered your family—”

“She willna. Her father's actions were his sin to bear, nae hers.”

Aged eyes held his. “Regardless of whose wrong, I beseech you, tell her.”

He damned this convoluted mess. Katherine was innocent of the crimes tangled in the past. “We willna speak of this further.”

Eyes blazing, she glared at him. “You may be lord of the castle, but you will listen to me.”

Respect filled him at her spirit, the way her eyes held his as if on a dare. He nodded in deference, finding himself curious at what Eufemie would say. “'Twould seem I will.”

The anger in her eyes faded. “You were always a wise one.”

Humbled by her praise, one he'd far from earned, Stephan remained quiet.

“Like you,” the healer began, “I watched the lass grow. As well, she was an inquisitive child, asking questions one atop the other.” Melancholy filled her gaze, yet she chuckled. “Countless times she appeared at my door at first light with fresh milk, eggs, or a loaf of bread still steaming hot.”

“She loves you,” he said, moved by the image, one easy to imagine given Katherine's compassion.

“And I her.” She shook her head. “It broke my heart how the English noble murdered her parents, forcing her to watch.” She hesitated. “I assume she told you?”

Stephan nodded.

Her hand on the basket tightened. “Though slight of build compared to the Earl of Preswick, she held her own when he threatened to lock her away if she refused to marry him. As he towered over her, instead of cowering she spat in his eye.”

As stunned as he was proud of his wife's daring, Stephan nodded. “An act for which the king's man incarcerated her in the dungeon.”

“Aye. The lass is intelligent. Once alone, she somehow escaped. Miraculously, somewhere in the mayhem after, she met and married you.”

“She did.”

Shrewd eyes studied him. “Katherine is a good woman, a strong lass any man would be blessed to have as a wife.”

“Indeed.”

A fragile smile touched her lips like the first bloom of a morning rose. “I was so upset, I missed the obvious. You care for her.”

Startled, Stephan struggled for a reply. How after so many years could Eufemie deduce the truth in but moments? He owed her ability to the close bond they'd had when he was a child. Whatever the reason, he was thankful for the unexpected link to his past, to the friendship she offered, one that remained strong.

Warmth touched his heart as he pondered her claim. “I care for Katherine very much,” he admitted, finding peace in the admission. “But . . .” Frowning, he strode to the arched window, watched the breakers roll in.

Unsure how to explain, desperate to find a way to break through the barrier his wife had erected between them, Stephan turned. Beneath the healer's inquisitive gaze, he tried to find a way to admit he'd failed to build more than a simple bond of trust with his wife.

Her mouth settled into a firm line and she set aside her basket. With quiet steps, the elder walked to him. “You have always been able to talk to me.”

“When I was a child. Years have passed. Times are nae so simple.”

“Nor were they ever,” she replied. “Now you are a noble with responsibilities, one who has returned to his legacy, and a man now bound to his wife. Though somehow I sense 'tis nae the responsibility that has you worried but the woman.”

Stephan curled his hands into fists.

“Can you nae speak with Lady Katherine?” she asked.

He relaxed his hands. “Nay.”

Sadness settled in her gaze, and then the elder gasped. “God in heaven, you dinna know?”

“Know?” At the dismay in her eyes, he braced himself against whatever the healer alluded to.

“When she was fifteen summers, Katherine was attacked,” Eufemie explained. “ 'Twas an awful time.”

“Attacked?” he repeated, focusing on the single word. “You mean defiled?”

“Aye,” she replied, a waver in her voice.

Fury roared through Stephan, an anger so deep 'twas like blackness smeared upon his soul. And explained why on their wedding night, when he'd avoided their marriage bed, her eyes had filled with relief. “Is he dead?” he demanded like a man possessed.

“Aye. Her father tracked him down, gutted him, and tossed his body into the sea.”

Stephan grunted, approving of the blackguard's demise.

“As one would expect,” the healer continued, “the lass withdrew. Months passed. Slowly, she began to speak. With more time, ever so often, a flicker of a smile appeared on her face.” The healer wiped at her tears. “One day I heard her laugh. From then on, most believed she had moved past the attack.”

“But she hadna,” Stephan supplied, understanding too well how a person could smother horrific events, bury them so deep as to nae face the shame.

Eufemie nodded. “When she first told me that she'd married, after I moved past my shock, I'd assumed she'd finally let the pain, suffering, and fear go. From your words, I realize she hasna.” She sighed. “The marriage wasna her choice, was it?”

“Nay. 'Twas King Robert's decree.”

A sad smile flickered across her face. “She was always his favorite.”

“Did the king know of the assault?” he asked, wondering why her godfather would keep Stephan ignorant of such an important fact.

“He did and understood that 'twould take a man of honor, kindness, and great patience to win Katherine's heart.” She paused. “Our king must regard you highly indeed.”

Far from flattered, Stephan remained silent.

“But a wedding doesna a marriage make, does it?” the elder asked, her voice soft with understanding.

As if he had anything to lose by admitting the truth? “Nay.”

“And with the way you feel for your wife, 'tis what you are wanting, is it nae?”

“I . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She refuses to let me close.”

“As I would expect for the reason I explained.”

A reason he hadna known of until now.

“'Twill be difficult for you to break through her defenses.”

“I would never harm her.”

“I am sure she knows this, but,” Eufemie said quietly, “'twill take a patient hand, one I believe you have, as does our king.”

Patience. A blasted bushelful. “You think it can be done?”

“Aye.”

Hope ignited. “How?”

A twinkle sparkled in her eyes. “As any man would do who wants to win a woman's heart. You must woo her.”

Sweat broke out on his brow. “Woo her?” he strangled out.

“Flowers, kind deeds, and the words of a lover.”

Heat touched his face.

“I have embarrassed you now,” she said with a chuckle. “It wasna my intention. I am too old for such whimsies to affect me any longer, but there was a time . . .” Her eyes misted and she shook her head. “'Tis nae me that we speak of but Lady Katherine. Take your time with the lass; let her come to you. If you push her too fast, she will continue to withdraw.”

A fact he'd experienced firsthand. Though he'd nae known why.

She arched a brow. “I would think if a man of your wit and handsome looks puts his mind to it, he could woo any woman off her feet. Dinna tell me after all these years, you have nae left a trail of lasses in your wake.”

He stiffened. His life as a Templar barely left him time to think of a woman, much less woo one.

When he didna reply, her aged eyes grew tender. “Have faith in yourself; I do.”

Faith, of that he had nay doubt. His ability to woo and win Katherine was another matter.

T
o keep her mind off the destruction left in the Englishmen's wake, Katherine scrubbed a window in the keep with a damp rag. She glanced at the sun beginning to set, wiped the sweat from her brow, and continued to clean.

The rap of hammers against wood, the voices of the men, and every so often the bells of the chapel echoed from outside.

She'd reclaimed her home, one she would rebuild with pride, and the penance of marriage, one she would bear. Penance. A harsh word and, considering she loved Stephan, unfair. Though coerced to wed, he was a man any woman would want. And she did, as a friend. With her tangled past, to believe their union could be more was but a fool's wish.

That her body had ached for him when they'd kissed changed naught. Though gentle, his caresses had brought back her tormented past. Overwhelmed, she'd run. Nay doubt she'd left him confused. How could he nae be? Though a Knight Templar, he was still a man. However much Katherine wished otherwise, she couldna give him the intimacy he desired.

Frustration churning inside, she lifted the damp cloth to the next pane, scrubbed. Memories of her assault would forever haunt her. At times they were far away, hidden in some distant part of her, but there they waited, lurked until her mind was relaxed, and then they would again attack.

Destroy her momentary peace.

Shatter any belief that she could overcome them.

However much she wished, nae even a man of Stephan's ilk could smother the memories.

Tears burned in her throat. Why could she nae discard the horror or shame? Mary have mercy, hadna enough years past? Would there ever come a time when she could move beyond the scarred recollections, relax her defenses, and welcome her husband into her bed?

Her body shuddered at the thought of a man's touch, and she lowered her head against the windowpane. There was nay hope.

“Katherine?”

At the concern in her husband's voice, she straightened, his arrival throwing her further off-balance. “Aye?” Katherine replied as she continued to clean, providing herself more time before she must face him.

“You are upset?”

Hand fisted on the damp cloth, she lowered the rag to her side. “I find it hard to be otherwise. Since our arrival, even with your knights working from dawn 'til dusk, we have barely made progress on all of the necessary repairs. 'Twill take months to rebuild everything.”

“It will, but it is time we have.”

Time? Aye. Time for his subtle yearnings to turn into his reaching out for her and, in return, her only offering disappointment. “Do we?” she asked, allowing frustration to fill her words. “Once Edward of Caernarfon receives the ransom demand, outraged by our brazen demand, he willna forfeit the coin but order a force to attack.”

“Mayhap, but I believe the king has more pressing problems.”

“The death of the earl is nae an act he will dismiss. He will be furious.”

“He will be, and we will prepare for retaliation,” Stephan said, “but 'tis only war. Men fight. Men die. 'Tis nae pleasant but the way of things.”

The situation wasna that simple. Before, she'd anticipated the day Avalon was rebuilt; then her husband, along with a strong contingent of men, would sail to fight for their king. Now thoughts of Stephan leaving, of his mortality, left her shaken. If anything were to happen to him . . .

“Though much remains to be done, however overwhelming it appears, I am pleased with our progress. The larger renovations will be finished in a sennight, mayhap a few days more. Then, our attention will turn to smaller, more intricate repairs. The reason I am here . . .” He paused. “ 'Tis time I began going through the castle's ledgers.”

A part of her dreaded this moment, the familiar surroundings, the writings in her father's hand, the small chamber where she'd visited him often over the years. “Follow me.” Bracing herself for the rush of emotions entering the room would bring, Katherine set the damp cloth aside and started down the corridor.

Her husband's steps firm but quiet, he kept pace at her side.

As they walked, the wavering of torchlight cast a mixture of shadows and light throughout the hallway. Too aware of the man beside her, her thoughts tumbled to her inability to share intimacy. Why had she dared to give in to the urge to accept his kiss? How could she have deluded herself into believing that even though she loved him, she could accept such?

Upon the smoothed stone of the turret, their steps echoed as one, a muted tap that broke the silence.

An ache built inside. How long would Stephan wait? How long before the desire in his eyes faded? How long until through sheer frustration her husband turned to another?

On her next step, lost in her thoughts, she stumbled.

Stephan caught her.

Her emotions fragile, Katherine stiffened. “I thank you. I wasna paying attention.”

Gentle fingers lifted her face to his. In the wash of torchlight, concern darkened his eyes. “More than worries of King Edward's retaliation concern you.”

Mary have mercy, after everything, aware she could never have him, she again wanted his kiss. “ 'Tis that . . .” Nay, she couldna speak. She stepped back, gave herself much needed distance. “There is still so much to repair.”

His mouth tightened, as if far from convinced.

Too aware of him, she remained silent.

After a long moment, he nodded. “Let us go.”

Thankful he'd nae pressed as they continued up, once they reached the corridor, she fell into step at his side. Vacant places that had once held paintings she'd loved over the years tore at her heart. Down the hallway, the tapestry from Portugal her father had gifted to her mother was gone. Damn the English. At the end of the passageway, Katherine halted before a finely crafted door. She turned the handle. “My father's private quarters.”

* * *

Stephan moved past Katherine, glanced around the small chamber where her father had worked. A place nay doubt she'd visited many times over the years. This was the reason for her upset, nae thoughts of their kiss or how she'd pulled away from him.

With mere weeks having elapsed since she'd witnessed her parents' murder, each turn within Avalon and every chamber would incite fresh waves of grief. Memories of his own life inside the castle, though they hurt, had been muted by the years.

“If you would like,” he said, “you can return to—”

Blue eyes leveled on him. “Nay. 'Tis my home.” The scrape of wood echoed as she closed the door behind them, but he caught her slight tremble. Nor would she welcome further concern. He focused on the reason for coming to the chamber.

A short while later, after thumbing through the castle ledger, pleased by the meticulous documentation of purchases, daily household uses of food, ale, and the details of castle life, Stephan closed the cover.

Anxious eyes held his.

“Impeccable records, ones I am sure impressed the English.”

Pride flickered in her gaze. “My father's entries were always meticulous.”

Indeed, his accounting skills rivaled those of the Templars. Nay wanting to find anything admirable about the man, Stephan couldna find fault with how he had run Avalon. Neither would he linger. Sadness filled Katherine's eyes. If he was to woo his wife, it wouldna be in a chamber that brought her sadness.

He stowed the ledger inside a drawer, stood. “I have something to show you.”

His wife frowned. “You but scanned the records.”

“So I did. What I saw assures me that when I perform a more careful review, my remaining questions concerning details of the castle will be answered.” He took her hand.

Her fingers tensed within his.

A reaction he'd expected, but if the lass was to become used to his touch, 'twould begin now. “'Tis growing late. There is something of importance I need to show you before the skies grow too dark.”

Though he'd made preparations, anxiousness rumbled through him as he led her toward the gatehouse. Wooing and women were nae his expertise.

As they exited the stronghold, wisps of clouds slid across the sun, an orange ball in the sky.

“Why are you bringing me beyond the castle walls?” she asked, worry straining her voice.

Why indeed? He felt like a fool, but when he'd visited Eufemie that morning, the healer had assured him that in addition to the little things he'd begun to do for Katherine each day, once he believed they'd made significant progress, 'twas time to strengthen their bond. Confident she was ready for the next step, he'd made his decision.

“You will like it,” Stephan said.

Doubtful eyes met his and his wife's step slowed.

He drew her forward, prayed he'd judged the time right. If nae, he'd shift the topic and allow their evening to be that enjoyed by two friends.

As he led her down the twist of rocks, the soft rumble of the surf grew. After they rounded a large boulder, a hidden cove came into view, the pebbles smoothed by waves over time. He released her.

Delight shimmered in her eyes. “It has been years since I came to this inlet. 'Tis well hidden.” She smiled. “I am surprised you found it.”

When he'd pondered where to take her, an area where they could be alone and away from prying eyes, this hidden cove had come to mind. A place he'd often visited as a child, one he'd believed only he'd known of. 'Twould seem they had yet more in common. “I discovered it when I was making note of the island's shoreline.”

“As you are a Knight Templar, I shouldna be surprised.” Katherine slowly turned, taking in everything. A smile touched her lips as she met his gaze. “Let me show you something.” She walked to the far wall of rock.

Intrigued, Stephan followed.

At the base, she knelt beside a smaller boulder, half hidden beneath a time-worn ledge. With care, she pried away the stone.

A miniature cavern lay before her.

“'Tis still here.” She reached in, withdrew a small wooden galley. Happiness glittered in her eyes as she stood. She handed him the carving.

Impressed by the detail, he turned the vessel against the lingering shine of light, frowned at the Templar cross emblazoned upon the sail. “Whoever crafted this had a fine hand.”

“My father brought the replica to me from one of his journeys. When I received the miniature, I held reservations of ever playing with such a finely crafted gift.” Her expression softened. “Then he brought me here and set the ship upon the waves. As the galley rocked its way down the length of the shore, he'd tell me stories.” Memories warming her eyes, she sighed. “I always loved our visits here.”

The tenderness for her father in her voice warred with his loathing for the man. Stephan shifted his thoughts to a safer matter. “Do you know why the sail is emblazoned with a Templar cross?”

She shook her head. “But whenever we sailed the ship, Da would tell me tales of the Knights Templar. At the time, I never questioned his stories. Now I find myself intrigued that in a sense, 'twas as if a premonition of my meeting you. Odd, is it nae?”

A shiver wove through Stephan, an unease he dismissed. “Nay doubt from his travels, your father gleaned many tales of Templar battles. Ones,” he said relaxing a degree, “that tend to grow with the retelling.”

“Indeed.” With a twinkle in her eyes, Katherine walked to the shore and set the boat on the tip of an incoming swell. The ship bobbed with abandoned glee on the wave, ascending to the foam-tipped crest, then sliding into the oncoming trough. As the replica continued to bob on the water down the shore, she walked alongside. Paces from the edge of the cove, she lifted the craft into the safety of her palm.

Red dusted her cheeks in a flattering hue. “You must think me foolish.”

Enchanted by the sight of her with sunlight on her face and joy in her eyes, he stepped forward, wove his fingers through the soft flow of her hair. “I canna think you foolish when this brings you such happiness.”

Awareness flickered in her gaze, quickly smothered by panic.

But now Stephan understood her hesitation. Refusing to rush her, he stepped back. “I have a surprise to show you.”

Katherine watched him for a long moment. After replacing the replica in the secret cavern, she returned.

The crunch of sand entwined with the soft rumble of waves as he led her to where a tree had washed ashore years ago. Sun-bleached branches poked skyward with feeble twists. He reached over the trunk, lifted a covered basket.

The amazement in her eyes made his efforts worthwhile, but the surprise guaranteed naught. Neither did he hold the skills to stir a woman's desire. But he cared for his wife, and with each moment Stephan found himself wanting more. In addition to the pleasure touching her gave him, there was also the peace being with her brought. In her presence, the emptiness haunting him since he'd fled Avalon so many years before had vanished. His hand tightened on the edge of the basket.

He stilled.

Never had he believed he'd find a woman who touched his heart, one who could ease the grief of his past. But here, now, he realized Katherine had.

Humbled by such a blessing, Stephan focused on his task, this moment of great magnitude. In the many battles he'd fought, none had been of more importance.

By the attention she took with her dress since they'd arrived at Avalon, her smile given at his approach, and the tenderness in her eyes when they met his, he believed she cared for him. He'd also caught her shy looks, the undeclared yearning within her gaze. And he recalled the hungry way, if only for a moment, she'd responded to his kiss.