Forbidden Legacy (15 page)

Another nightmare. “ 'Tis fine now,” she said, keeping her voice soft.

He gave a strangled cry. “God's blade, so much blood, too much.” He shuddered. “Come back to me. Damn you, damn you to hell, live!”

Frantic to stop him from tearing out his stitches, she held him tight, unsure how long she could keep him still. “'Tis a dream.”

“Nay!” Stephan twisted. “They are all dead!”

The scrape of wood sounded behind her.

Katherine turned.

“What is wrong?” Thomas asked as he ran to her side and helped her keep her husband still. “I could hear Stephan's shouts from above.”

“He is having another nightmare.” As for her feelings toward her husband, that she would have to explore later. At this moment, whatever she had left inside, she'd give to Stephan.

T
he rumble of thunder echoed from far away. Stephan shifted and agony streaked through his body. God's blade, what had happened?

Memories stormed him: their attack on Avalon Castle, the battle, discovering he and his men were greatly outnumbered, and Katherine's arrival. Terrified for her life, he'd discarded attempts to reach his men and turned to providing a distraction for the English until his knights had ensured her escape.

Pain still burned his body at the inventive methods used by the Earl of Preswick's knights in their attempts to pry information from him. With every brutality, he'd focused on the fact that Katherine and his men were safe.

Broken images flashed in his mind. Arms hauling him up, assurances that he was safe, the splash of oars in water, and then blackness.

Thunder exploded nearby. A rush of wind slammed against the hull, and the bed gave a violent lurch.

Stephan groaned.

“I think he is beginning to awaken,” Katherine whispered from his side.

“Aye,” Thomas agreed from nearby. “You have remained with your husband for the last two days, my lady. Go and rest. When he is fully awake, I will tell you.”

“You are as tired as I,” she said, stubbornness clinging to the exhaustion in her voice, “while I have caught naps here and there.”

His friend scoffed. “Falling asleep in your chair far from meets the criterion of a nap.”

“You worry too much,” Katherine said. “Truly, I am fine.”

Stephan peered at his wife from beneath hooded eyes.

A smile touched her lips.

His lids grew heavy and he closed them.

“Thomas,” she said, “your standing here is helping naught.”

“Stubborn you are,” his friend grumbled. “At sunrise, if I havena heard from you, I will return. By God, you will go and rest then if I have to cart you to your bed myself and tie you there.”

“Aye, Sir Thomas,” she replied.

With a soft mutter, his friend departed.

Wood groaned as the ship angled up. Thunder rumbled, this time louder. The rough howl of wind filled the chamber.

A thud.

Clothes shifted.

A quiet sigh.

Curious, through the twist of pain, Stephan again forced his lids open.

Murky light from the lantern shrouded Katherine as she knelt, the golden spill flickering over her face as if it were dust sprinkled by the fairies and he ensnared within its spell.

Fatigue marring his wife's brow, she bowed her head and pressed her hands together in prayer. Quiet words fell from her lips.

Emotion filled Stephan as she whispered the Paternoster, each word heartfelt, each verse as if dredged from her soul. Humbled, in silence he followed along.

“Amen.” On an unsteady breath, Katherine made the sign of the cross. Blue eyes lifted, stilled. Relief filled them, and then darkened to concern. “You are awake.”

“I . . .” He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry, his throat refusing to comply.

“Wait, you will be thirsty.” She poured him a cup of water, lifted it to his mouth.

He savored the coolness sliding down his throat.

After several sips, she set the drink on a nearby table. “For now, you will only have a little at a time. Once you are better, you can drink your fill.” Katherine pressed her palm against his brow. Her mouth relaxed. “Good, nay sign of a fever.”

“Ho-how long have I been asleep?” He swallowed and then winced, his throat burning from the enemy's many strangleholds. His arms and chest ached. Even the muscles across his back were sore from the repeated beatings.

“Thanks to the potion Thomas gave you, almost three days.”

He grimaced. “Thomas is known for his concoctions.”

“With how long you slept, I can understand why,” she said, a touch of humor in her voice. “And your friend has a fine hand with a needle as well. I helped him while he sewed a large gash in your shoulder.”

Stephan skimmed his fingers over the well-crafted stitches. “You helped?”

“I did, and,” Katherine said, as if sensing his unease, “you are nae the first warrior I have tended after battle. Neither will I be asking how you feel. With the bruises covering your body, I expect 'tis as if a battering ram has hit your head.”

He shot her a wry smile. “Close.”

Thunder boomed overhead. Rain pounded the ship with torrential force.

She frowned. “ 'Tis worse than the squall several hours ago.”

“How long has it been storming?”

“Since yesterday morning. Thomas and the others dropped anchor in a bay hidden behind trees. With the fierceness of the winds, we are thankful for the shelter.”

“Where are we?”

“In one of the secret coves the fishermen from the village recommended if ever we had need to hide.”

“All four of the ships are here?”

“Aye.”

Their cargo was safe, thank God. Neither could they remain here for any length of time. Even in this downpour, after their attack, the English would be searching for them. Stephan gritted his teeth, swung his legs off the bed, and sat up.

Katherine caught his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Getting out of bed.”

“You need to lie down. If you start moving about, you risk tearing open your stitches.”

He scowled. “I have slept for several days. Time enough for my wounds to set.”

“Sunrise isna for a few more hours. If you go above deck now, you will see none but the watch.”

He hesitated.

“Thomas warned me that you would be stubborn.”

“Nay, determined.”

She blew out a rough breath. “Call it what you will. If you stand up now, 'twill be to prove you can. Foolishly, may I add.”

Stephan held her gaze, irritated he would hesitate at her caution, but her actions along with her words exposed one thing.

She cared.

Need rippled through him, the potency leaving him floundering. Somehow, without his wanting to, Katherine had breached his defenses. Regardless of his desires, of his intention to keep distance between them, 'twas too late.

He swallowed hard, wanting her, damning his need. “You look tired,” Stephan said, wishing more than a hand's width separated them. With a slight pull, their bodies would touch, and he could draw her to him, taste her mouth against his, nuzzle the silken flesh along her throat.

God's blade, what was he thinking? Mayhap it wasna his feelings for her that had changed but the herbs Thomas had shoved down his throat that skewed his mind with such unwanted thoughts.

But he knew he lied.

Knew he wanted her.

Knew to reach out to her now, with his defenses weakened, would be a mistake.

“Lie back,” his wife urged, “at least until the sun begins to rise.”

He complied, if for naught more than to encourage Katherine to put distance between them. “From the fatigue in your eyes, you need rest as well.”

Red touched her cheeks. “I will, once Thomas returns.”

“I am nae a child in need of a nursemaid! Now off with you; there is little cause for you to remain.” She stiffened, and he muttered a curse.

“You had nightmares,” she rushed out. “Several. If you fall asleep and have more, I must be here to prevent you from causing damage to a wound.”

He stilled. “Nightmares?”

“Aye.”

Shame crawled through him as memories of his horrific dreams knifed through him. “What did I say?”

Without meeting his gaze, Katherine stood, walked to stand before the lantern. “For the most part, naught but unintelligible ramblings.”

He damned the guilt resurrected by his past, a penance that would forever haunt him. “And those you understood?”

She turned, her eyes guarded. “You . . . You called out for Johanna.”

The image of his sister as she'd fled from their attackers ripped through his mind. Her screams, the fear in her eyes. She'd reached the wall walk before they'd caught up to her, before, in an attempt to escape, she'd slipped and fallen to her death.

“Is Johanna a woman you loved?”

At the worry in her voice he paused. She was jealous? Grief crumbled to pain; he was horrified his wife would learn the truth. “Aye,” he rasped. “She was my sister.”

Sadness darkened her eyes and she walked closer, covering his hand with hers. “I am so sorry.”

Her sincerity stole his breath, made him ache at all he'd lost, left him terrified of the woman he'd found, one who didna understand that with mere words she could hurt him. Never had he known a lass who moved him, one who touched his soul. Katherine did both.

However much he wanted her, if she discovered the truth behind that fateful day, how could she nae be horrified? More, he feared if she learned of her father's heinous acts, she would completely withdraw, and any chance for their marriage to be more than one of convenience lost.

Stephan cleared his throat. “ 'Twas a long time ago.”

“Mayhap,” she whispered, her words raw with sadness, “but you still bear the pain, grieve your sister's loss. How can you nae?”

Her compassion left him floundering with how to reply.

“What happened?”

Wanting to strengthen their bond, Stephan found himself needing to share, so he would tell her portions. The rest would forever remain hidden. “When I was seven summers, our castle was attacked,” he said, the memories of the screams of the dying, the terror, recalled with complete clarity. “My family was killed, and the castle . . .” God's blade! He couldna say more.

Her face had paled to a deathly white. “Oh, God, you have suffered so much.”

“ 'Twas a long time ago.” Red-rimmed eyes met his, and he damned himself for weakening and explaining any part of his past. “You need to go to your bed and sleep,” he stated, his words harsher than he'd intended, but if she stayed, he worried that he'd do something foolish like share more secrets, ones he'd sworn never to reveal.

“Steph—”

“Go!” His order boomed into the storm-fed night.

Any remaining color on her face fled, but beneath the uncertainty was determination. “Dinna think harsh words will have me fleeing. I am nae afraid of you. Neither,” she said, bending closer with a scowl, “will you push me away because you hurt.”

Without warning, anger slammed him. “You dinna know how I feel!”

Fury blackened her eyes. “I watched my family die, murdered as pawns in a political gain,” she shoved out, her every word raw. “I wasna given the choice to look away as those I loved were slain, swords plunged into their hearts. I was held tight, made to—” She whirled, but he caught her body's shudder.

Blast everything to bloody Hades! Wincing with pain, Stephan shoved off the bed, stood. “Katherine,” he said, keeping his words soft, “you dinna have to tell—”

She whirled, her eyes brilliant in their fury, mesmerizing in their passion. “I will finish, by God.” Her gaze narrowed, as if daring him to speak.

He remained silent, understood her need to explain, something he'd almost given in to moments before.

On an unsteady breath, Katherine exhaled. “The Earl of Preswick stood by my side, held me as the blade was removed from each body, forced me to watch the life in their eyes fade, empty until their gazes were blackened by death.”

“Katherine—”

“And then,” she pushed on, tears streaming down her cheeks, “the earl explained that I would marry him, my life spared for such an honor.” She gave a cold laugh. “But I escaped, thwarted his contemptible plan. And as I fled, I swore that I would do whatever it took to reclaim Avalon Castle, a promise that even if it meant skirting the truth to a king, I will keep.”

As would he.

For her.

For them.

A fact he'd never share.

The moment passed, and Stephan understood. After her heartrending confession, their relationship had changed. He'd known of her family's murder, the attempted forced marriage, and her escape.

He'd thought her a resourceful woman, mayhap clever. On both counts he'd underestimated her. Katherine was a woman any man would want, one who cared, fought for what she believed in, and would face any challenge for those she loved.

Humbled by her ferocity, moved by her passion, he stared at her. How would it feel to be loved by such a woman? When they'd met, he'd nae wanted a wife, had been furious she'd sailed with him and his men. God help him, now he couldna envision a life without her.

Shaken by what she made him feel, want, he stepped toward her. “The bastard will die,” he said with the force of fury pouring through him, “by my blade.”

“Nay, by my hand.”

“Taking a life solves naught but leaves blood on your hands, memories in your heart to later regret,” he said, humbled by this woman who, after such a horrific experience, refused to crumple. Though he'd seen her in quiet moments, her grief, the woman alone, one too terrified to trust. He lifted his hand. “Come here.”

“Why?” she demanded.

“Must everything between us be a challenge?” he asked, fatigue riding his voice.

Doubt flickered in her gaze. Katherine glanced toward the door and then turned back to him. “The sun will be up soon.”

“Nae for another hour or more.”

She didna move.

“Please.”

With hesitant steps, she walked toward him.

Stephan took in this amazing woman, doubting she'd think of herself as such, and wrapped her hand within his.