My Valiant Knight (30 page)

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Authors: Hannah Howell

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: My Valiant Knight
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“That would have been nice. It may have saved me many long weeks of wondering how big an idiot I am. It may have saved me the turmoil of trying to decide if I should risk all and wed a mon who might ne‘er love me as I wanted him to. It may have e’en saved me a great deal of lost sleep as I struggled to convince myself that the love I had for you would be enough to make our marriage a good and happy one.” She cursed softly with surprise when he suddenly pulled her tight into his arms and kissed her.
“And mayhaps,” he murmured against her lips, “I would have been saved from a few doubts and fears myself if you had been more forthcoming.”
She raised herself up enough to look him in the eye. “Ye had doubts and fears?”
“When a man finally accepts that he is in love, did you think he just calmly believes his feelings are returned, and that all is right with the world?”
“I ne’er gave that much thought, since I didna ken that ye felt such things for me.” She met his disgusted look with a brief grin, then grew serious as she gently traced the lines of his face with her fingertips. “I can see that we both suffered. Mayhaps we should learn to speak more openly with each other. Surely whatever we might say canna cause us as much pain as we have just suffered.”
“Agreed. And I give you leave to remind me of this bargain, if you think I am being too reticent.”
“Fair enough.” She wriggled against him, smiling when she felt him harden with interest. “I think I have loved you from the first moment I saw you.”
“Aye? You have a very strange way of showing affection then, for, if I recall correctly, you were trying to stick your sword in my chest.”
“Mayhaps I was but trying to catch your eye?” She giggled when he cursed softly. “I knew it when we became lovers. Oh, I tried to be practical, but I failed quite miserably. I was sick with jealousy when ye were courting Margaret Fraser.”
“I realize now how I must have hurt you. I can only ask your forgiveness. I often felt guilty about it all, yet I refused to see what was in my own heart, and talked away any doubt I had that I was doing what was right for me and for Bellefleur. I also wished to avoid emotion, for I feel one should always use only one’s wits, and emotion can sometimes make clear thought difficult. You stirred up such emotion within me, it was almost frightening. Nay, I confess, it did frighten me and I ran from it, claiming a need to let only cool reason rule my life.
“It was not until I thought you were forever beyond my reach that I realized I did not want to be a man of only reason, that it would leave me only half a man. Dangerous and maddening as it can be, I realized I wanted all of those feelings you can so easily rouse within me.”
“Ye made me no promises and spoke no pretty lies. I wasna forced into your bed; I came willingly. There is naught ye have to ask forgiveness for.”
“You are far kinder than I think I could have been had the situations been the other way round.”
“Nay, I am simply too happy to moan and complain about what is past and done. As I said, ye ne’er lied to me, Gabel, and that honesty can only be praised. At times I deceived myself, but ye canna be faulted for my own foolishness.” She touched a kiss to his mouth, and then began to lightly trace the shape of his face with soft quick kisses. “I do so love ye, Gabel de Amalville.”
“And I you, Ainslee.”
“E’en though I am as prickly as a thistle?”
“Aye, for I have found all the softness that lurks within.”
“I shall be a verra good wife to you,” she whispered.
“Just be as you are, Ainslee. I ask for no more. ’Tis that which I have come to love, even though, in my blindness, I fought that love as hard as I would fight any of my enemies. If you wish to stand at my side, sword in hand, then do so. If you wish to spend your days making Bellefleur so clean a man can eat off of the stable floor, then do so. You do what you wish. My happiness will come from seeing you happy. Sweet Mary, no one deserves happiness more than you, not after all the years you have suffered at Kengarvey.”
“Oh, they werena all so bad,” she said, her voice thick as she fought the emotion stirred by his words. “I had Ronald, and I begin to believe that my brothers werena as cold and as heartlessly blind to my troubles as I had thought them to be.” She studied him for a moment, before saying quietly, “When I was young and being punished by my father or simply feeling very much alone, do ye ken what I used to do?”
“Nay. What?” he asked as he held her in his arms and turned so that she was beneath him. “Plan how many ways you might find to repay your father for all of his cruelties?”
“Weel, aye. I did do that a time a two and, I confess, I could devise some verra blood curdling punishments in my mind. Howbeit, what I refer to is the wee dream I had from time to time. I would think of myself as a beautiful woman instead of the wee skinny bairn I was.”
“That part of your dream has certainly come true.”
She lightly kissed him to reward his flattery, and then continued, “And one day, as I feared I could endure no more, out of the mists rode a mon.” When Gabel started to grin, she scowled at him. “Ye had best not laugh.”
“Nay, I would ne’er be so rude.”
Since his voice was shaking with laughter, Ainslee ignored him. “That mon was tall and dark and ever so handsome, and he took me up on his horse. We rode away from Kengarvey to places I had ne‘er seen, and places where there were no battles and no brutal men, and as much food as any person could e’er want. And he loved me. ’Twas odd that such a silly dream should bring me any comfort, but it did.”
“Nay, ’tis not odd.” He gently kissed her. “I fear I cannot promise that there will be no battles, no deaths, or even that you shall always have all the food you could want. Such things are not always in my hands, but in God’s.”
“Weel, it doesna matter. All ye have to do is promise that ye will do your best to love me,” she said softly. “Aye, love me as hard and for as long as I will love you.”
“That,
my bonnie wee lassie
, is one of the easiest promises I have ever been asked to make, and I make it now, with all my heart.”
About the Author
Born and raised in Massachusetts, her family’s home since the 1630s, Hannah Howell is the author of thirteen historical romances, including
Only For You
, which is available from Zebra Books. Her love of history prompts the choice of venue, and also has her dragging her sons, Samuel and Cure, and husband Stephen to every historical site she can get to. Her fascination with the past makes research as much a pleasure as a necessity. It was a thrill for her to be able to turn her love of history and writing into a career, one that allows her to share those loves with others. Hannah is currently working on her next historical romance, which Zebra Books will be publishing in September 1996. Hannah loves hearing from her readers, and you may write to her c/o Zebra Books. Please include a self-addressed stamped envelope, if you wish a response.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Hannah Howell’s
HIGHLAND CHAMPION.
Now on sale!
Scotland
,
Spring 1475
 
What was an angel doing standing next to Brother Matthew? Liam thought as he peered through his lashes at the couple frowning down at him. And why could he not fully open his eyes? Then the pain hit and he groaned. Brother Matthew and the angel bent closer.
“Do ye think he will live?” asked Brother Matthew.
“Aye,” replied the angel, “though I suspicion he will wish he hadnae for a wee while.”
Strange that an angel should possess a voice that made a man think of firelit bedchambers, soft unclothed skin, and thick furs, Liam mused. He tried to lift his hand, but the pain of even the smallest movement proved too much to bear. He felt as if he had been trampled by a horse. Mayhap several horses. Very large horses.
“He is a bonnie lad,” said the angel as she gently smoothed one small, soft hand over Liam’s forehead.
“How can ye tell that he is bonnie? He looks as if someone staked him to the ground and rode over him with a herd of horses.”
Brother Matthew and he had always thought alike in many ways, Liam recalled. He was one of the few men Liam had missed after leaving the monastery. He now missed the touch of the angel’s soft hand. For the brief time it had brushed against his forehead, it had felt as if that light touch had smoothed away some of his pain.
“Aye, he does that,” replied the angel. “And, yet, one can still see that he is tall, lean, and weel formed.”
“Ye shouldnae be noticing such things!”
“Wheesht, Cousin, I am nay blind.”
“Mayhap not, but ’tis still wrong. And he isnae at his best now, ye ken.”
“Och, nay, that is for certain. Howbeit, I am thinking that his best is verra good, aye? Mayhap as good as our cousin Payton, do ye think?”
Brother Matthew made a very scornful noise. “Better. Truth tell, ‘tis why I ne’er believed he would stay with us.”
Why should his appearance make someone think him a bad choice for the religious life? Liam did not think that was a particularly fair judgment, but could not seem to give voice to that opinion. Despite the pain he was in, his thoughts were clear enough. He just seemed to be unable to voice them, or make any movement to indicate that he heard these figures discussing him. Even though he could look at them through his lashes, his eyes were obviously not opening enough to let them know he was awake.
“Ye dinnae think he had a true calling?” asked the angel.
“Nay,” Brother Matthew replied. “Oh, he liked the learning weel enough, was verra quick and bright, but we could only teach him so much here. We are but a small monastery, nay a rich one, and nay a great teaching place. I think, too, that he found this place too quiet, too peaceful. He missed his family. I have met his kinsmen and I can understand. A large, loud, somewhat, weel, untamed lot of men they are. The learning offered to him eased that restlessness in Liam for a while, but it wasnae enough in the end. The quiet routine, the sameness of the days began to wear upon his spirit, I think.”
Liam was a little surprised at how well his old friend knew and understood him. He had been restless, still was in some ways. The quiet of the monastery, the rigid schedule of the monastic life had begun to press in upon him and feel more smothering than comforting. He had missed his family. For a moment he was actually glad that he seemed unable to speak for he feared he would be asking for them now like some forlorn child.
“’Tis hard,” said the angel. “I was most surprised that ye settled into the life so verra weel. But ye have a true, deep calling, dinnae ye?”
“Aye, I do,” Brother Matthew replied softly. “I did e‘en as a child. But ne’er think I dinnae miss all of ye, Keira. I did and do most painfully at times, but there is a brotherhood here, a family of sorts. Yet I will probably visit again soon. I have begun to spend a great deal of time wondering how the bairns have grown, if everyone is still hale and strong, and many another such thing. Letters dinnae tell all.”
“Nay, they dinnae.” Keira sighed. “I have missed them all, too, and I have been gone for but a sixmonth.”
Keira, Liam repeated the name in his mind. A fine name. He tried to move his arm despite the pain and felt a twinge of panic when it would not respond to his command. When he realized he was bound to the bed, his unease grew even stronger. Why would they do that to him? Why did they not wish him to move? Were his injuries so dire? Was he wrong to think he had been given aid? Had he actually been made a prisoner? Even as those questions spun through his mind, he fought past his pain enough to tug against his bonds. A groan escaped him as that pain quickly and fiercely swept through his body from head to toe. He stilled when a pair of small, soft hands touched him, one upon his forehead and one upon his chest.
“I think he begins to wake, Cousin,” Keira said. “Hush, sir. Be at peace.”
“Tied,” Liam hissed the word out from between tightly gritted teeth, the pain caused by speaking that one small word telling him that his face had undoubtedly taken a severe beating.
“Why?”
“To keep ye still, Liam,” Brother Matthew replied. “Keira doesnae think anything is broken save for your right leg, but ye were thrashing about so much it worried us some.”
“Aye,” agreed Keira. “Ye were beat near to death, sir. ’Tis best if ye remain verra still so as not to add to your injuries or pain. Are ye in much pain?”
Liam muttered a fierce curse at what he considered a very stupid question. He heard Brother Matthew gasp in shock. To his surprise, he heard Keira laugh softly.
“‘Twas indeed a foolish question,” she said, laughter still tinting her sultry voice. “Ye dinnae seem to have a spot upon ye that isnae brilliant with bruising. Aye, and your right leg was broken. ’Tis a verra clean break and I have set it. After three days there is still no sign of poison in the wound or in the blood, so it should heal verra weel.”
“Liam, ‘tis Brother Matthew. Keira and I have brought ye to the wee cottage at the edge of the monastery’s lands. The brothers wouldnae allow her to tend to your wounds within the monastery, I fear.” He sighed. “They werenae too happy with her presence e’en though she was weel hidden away in the guest quarters. Brother Paul was particularly agitated.”
“Agitated?” muttered Keira. “Cousin Elspeth would say he—”
“Aye,” Brother Matthew hastily interrupted, “I ken what our cousin Elspeth would say. I think she has lived too long amongst those unruly Armstrongs. She has gained far too free a tongue for a proper lady.”
Keira made a rude noise. “My, but ye have become verra pious, Cousin.”
“Of course I have. I am a monk. We are trained to be pious. Now I can help ye give Liam some potion or change his bandages, if ye wish, but then I must return to the monastery.”
“Ah, weel then, best see if he needs to relieve himself,” Keira said “I will just step outside so that ye can see to that. Now that he is waking, ’tis best, I think. I shall just run up to the monastery’s garden and collect a few herbs. I shall be but a few moments.”
“What do ye mean now that he is waking?” demanded Brother Matthew, but then he grunted with irritation when the only reply he got was the door closing behind Keira as she hurried away. “Wretched wee lass.”
“Cousin?” Liam asked, realizing that not only was his throat injured, but his jaw and mouth as well.
“Cousin? Oh, aye, the lass is my cousin. One of a vast horde of cousins, if truth be told. A Murray, ye ken.”
“Kirkcaldy?”
“’Tis what I am, aye. Her grandmother was one, too. Now I do fear that nay matter how gentle I am, this is going to hurt.”
It did. Liam was sure he screamed at one point, and that only increased his pain. He welcomed the blackness when it swept over him, as he suspected the continuously apologizing Brother Matthew did.
 
 
“Oh dear, he looks a wee bit paler,” Keira said as she set the herbs she had collected down on a table and moved to stand at the side of the small bed Liam was tied to.
“He still suffers a great deal of pain, and I fear I added to it,” said Brother Matthew.
“Ye couldnae help it, Cousin. He is better, nay doubt about it, but such injuries will be slow to heal. There truly isnae a part of this mon that isnae hurt. ’Tis a true miracle that only his leg was broken.”
“Are ye certain that he was only beaten? Or that he was e’en beaten at all?”
“Aye, Cousin, he was beaten. I have nay doubt about that, but he could have been tossed off that hill, too. Some of these injuries could be from the rocky slope his body would have fallen down and the equally rocky ground he landed on. I dinnae suppose he was able to tell ye what happened to him, was he?”
“Och, nay. Nay. He spoke but a word or two, then made a pitiful cry and has been like this e‘er since.” Brother Matthew shook his head. “I wish I could understand this. Who would do such a terrible thing to the mon? I ken I havenae seen that much of the mon o’er the years since he left here, but he really wasnae the sort of mon to make enemies. Certainly nay such vicious ones.”
Keira idly tested the strength of the bonds that held Liam still upon the bed and carefully studied the man. “I suspect jealousy is a problem he must often deal with.”
Brother Matthew frowned at his cousin. She seemed far too interested in Liam Cameron, revealing more than just a healer’s interest in a patient. A healer surely did not need to touch her patient’s hair as often as Keira did Liam’s thick, dark copper hair. Liam was certainly not looking his best, might well have lost a little of his beauty due to this vicious beating, but there was clearly enough allure left in his battered body and face to draw Keira’s interest.
He tried to see Keira as a woman grown, not simply as a cousin he had played with as a child. His eyes widened slightly as he began to see that his cousin was no teasing child now, but a very attractive woman. She was small and slight, yet womanly, for her breasts were well shaped and full and her hips were pleasingly curved. Her hair was a rich, shining black and hung in a thick braid to well past her tiny waist. That hair made her fair skin look even purer, a soft milk white with the blush of good health. Keira’s oval face held a delicate beauty, her nose being small and straight, a hint of strength revealed in her small chin, and her cheekbones being high and finely shaped. What caught everyone’s interest was her eyes. Set beneath gently arced black brows, and trimmed with thick, long lashes, were a pair of deep green eyes. Those wide eyes bespoke innocence, but their depths held all the womanly mystery that could so intrigue a man. He was a little startled to realize that her mouth, slightly wide and full of lip, held the same contradictions. Her smile could be the epitome of sweet innocence, but Brother Matthew suddenly knew men of the world would quickly see the sensuality there as well. He suddenly feared it had been a serious error in judgment on his part to allow her to tend to a man like Liam Cameron.
“Ye have a rather fierce look upon your face, Cousin,” Keira said as she moved to begin preparing more salve for Liam’s injuries. “He willnae die, I promise ye. He will just be a verra long time in healing.”
“I believe ye. ’Tis just that, weel, one thing Liam did find hard to abide about the monastic life was, weel, was ...”
“No lasses to smile at.” She grinned at the severe frown he gave her for it sat so ill upon his boyishly handsome face.
“I think, just as with our cousin Payton, this mon has a way with the lasses. Aye, and he need do nay more than smile at them.”
“I dinnae think he e’en needs to smile,” grumbled Brother Matthew.
“Nay, probably not. Come, Cousin, dinnae look so troubled. He is no danger to me now, is he? Aye, and e’en when he is healed enough to smile again, he can only be a danger to me if I wish him to be. Ye cannae think that, with the kinsmen I have, I havenae been verra weel taught in the ways of men.” She glanced toward Liam. “Is he a bad mon, then? A vile, heartless seducer of innocents?”
Brother Matthew sighed. “Nay, I would ne’er believe such a thing of him.”
“Then there is naught to fret o‘er, is there. ’Tis best if we worry o’er our many other troubles. They are of more importance than whether or nay I can resist the sweet smiles of a bonnie lad. I have been here nigh on two months now, Cousin. There has been nary a sign of my enemy so I think, soon, I must try to get home to Donncoill.”
“I ken it. I am fair surprised none of your kinsmen have come round. ‘Tis odd that they wouldnae start to wonder on how long ye have stayed at a monastery, or e’en why the monks would allow it.”
“’Tisnae so verra unusual for guests, male or female, to linger in the guest quarters, and I paid weel for the privilege.”
She smiled and patted his arm when he flushed with embarrassment over that hard truth. “It has been worth it. I needed to hide and mend my wounds, needed to o’ercome my grief and fear, and needed to be certain that, when I did go home, I wasnae leading that murderous bastard Rauf to the gates of Donncoill.”

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