My Valiant Knight (11 page)
Justice shook his head. “They may well have put a lot of their prestige and power at risk. Mayhaps it was done for more reasons than an old hatred.”
“What other reasons? They were not taking her to Kengarvey, so they could not have made some bargain with her, nor could they have been thinking of ransoming her themselves and making their own treaty with the MacNairns.”
“The only thing the Frasers appear to want to do to the MacNairns is slaughter them to a man. Nay, I but wondered if Lady Margaret was aware of your interest in Ainslee. She does not seem to be the sort of woman who would tolerate a rival, especially if she considers that rival little more than a thieving peasant.”
Gabel stared at his cousin for a full minute before cursing. “I do not wish to believe that, for it would mean that I allowed my own lusts to place Ainslee in danger of her life.”
“I do not think it is all that simple,” Justice said in a vain attempt to reassure him. “Howbeit, you must consider that possibility. I press it for, if that is the way of it, then you must now consider that Lady Margaret will not only see Lady Ainslee as a rival, but as someone who has beaten her.”
“I knew that tiny red-haired girl would be trouble from the moment she faced me with that accursed sword in her hand,” Gabel complained, not truly angry with Ainslee, for he knew none of this was her fault, but needing to vent his frustration. “I shall put a much heavier guard on her and on the old man. Those Frasers have already shown that they are not above striking down the ones Ainslee loves simply because she loves them. And have that monstrously ugly dog of hers brought into her room.” He smiled faintly as Justice laughed, bowed mockingly, then hurried away to get the dog, and select a few men for guard duty on the MacNairns.
Groaning softly, for he detested such intrigues, Gabel finished his drink and went to Ainslee’s room. He intended to keep a watchful eye on Ainslee himself, and he doubted that anyone at Bellefleur would be surprised or shocked at that. It was a decision based mostly on emotion, but, after what had happened today, he began to wonder if he was wrong to so completely ignore what his emotions told him. He had been fighting them so fiercely and questioning his every move so thoroughly to be certain it was not an emotional one, that he had missed a great deal of what had been going on directly beneath his nose.
His aunt smiled at him as he slipped into Ainslee’s bedchamber and, as he quietly approached the bed, he asked, “How does she fare?”
“She sleeps,” Marie replied. “Her breathing appears to be untroubled, and she has grown warm, yet not feverishly so.”
“I am pleased to hear that, for I was concerned that she might catch a fever.” He helped his aunt from the stool she was sitting on next to the bed and began to urge her toward the door. “Go to your bed, Aunt. I will watch o’er her now.”
“But she may have need of a woman’s touch,” Marie protested, even as Gabel pushed her out of the door.
“If she asks for it, I can call for you or for one of the dozen or more maids scurrying about Bellefleur. Sleep well, Aunt,” he said, kissing her cheek and then shutting the door.
Gabel poured himself a tankard of mead from the jug by the bed, then made himself comfortable at the end of the bed, his gaze fixed firmly upon a sleeping Ainslee. He was a little discomforted by how pleased he was to see her alive and apparently surviving her ordeal unscathed. It revealed far more depth to what he felt for her than the lust he readily admitted to. That was dangerous. The wise thing to do would be to distance himself from her, but, looking at her face and smiling crookedly, he knew he would not do that.
It was amusing in a sad way, but everything which attracted him to Ainslee was exactly what made it impossible for him to keep her around. That and the fact that she was a MacNairn. It became clearer every day that Ainslee had not been tainted by the poison infecting her father and his father before him, but the name was now a burden. It sounded callous to think that way, but Gabel knew he had to be callous. A lot of people depended upon him, and he could not do anything that might risk the position he had already attained, or hurt any future gains he might make. He wished he had more freedom to do as he pleased, but he did not, and he could not allow his feelings for Ainslee make him act as if he did.
She groaned softly, drawing his attention to her eyes as they slowly opened. He was not surprised to see her awake, as her stomach had been loudly protesting its emptiness for several moments. Even as she stared at him, her sleep-clouded eyes beginning to clear, her stomach grumbled again. Gabel smiled when her eyes widened and she placed a hand over her stomach.
“Was that me?” she said, her voice husky with exhaustion.
“Aye. I have been serenaded by it for a while. There is some bread and cheese next to your bed.” He frowned when she just looked at it. “Do you need some help?”
“Nay.” She eased herself up into a sitting position, looked down at the nightrail she wore, and then looked at him. “I was too tired to reproach ye for your inappropriate assistance in removing my clothes, so shall I say it now?”
“I believe you just said it. Have something to eat ere we are both deafened by your growling belly.”
She helped herself to some bread and cheese, a little surprised at how weak she felt, yet relieved that she had not sickened from her ordeal. “ ’Tis rather loud. I have had naught to eat since last night. A few sips of sour wine makes for a poor meal.”
“Ainslee, I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
She eyed him warily as she ate. “Are ye sure ye want to hear it? Or am I just going to be wasting breath and strength telling ye a tale that ye will cry a falsehood?”
“Nay, I will listen, and I think I can assure you that I will question none of it.” He shrugged and smiled crookedly. “I did as you said and talked to Ronald. It was not difficult to guess what had happened then. Howbeit, I should like to hear it from you.”
In between bites of food, she told him everything. He moved to check the bump on her head and she knew it was not to verify her claim, simply to assure himself that it was not a serious injury. She was pleased that he had finally seen the truth about the Frasers, but, as she finished eating and slumped against her pillows, she wished she could benefit from that. He would not now turn to her and look at her as a possible wife, so she tried to find some solace in the fact that she was being believed. It was not something that often happened to a MacNairn.
“You are a most surprising young woman, Ainslee MacNairn,” Gabel murmured.
“If I must continue to take lives to be surprising, I believe I should like to be verra dull indeed.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his in a gesture of comfort. “I am sorry that I remained blind to the troubles you faced. If I had seen more clearly who the Frasers really were and what they were doing, I could have saved you from that. I must also take some of the blame for Lady Margaret’s attacks. If I had left you alone as any honorable man would have, she would not have been stirred to consider you a rival she needed to dispose of.”
“I shouldna blame yourself. If I recall that night weel, I was a most willing partner.”
Gabel grinned and touched a kiss to the palm of her bandaged hand. “You are most kind to try and relieve me of some of my guilt. The Frasers cannot be forced out into the storm, but they will be leaving as soon as it has ceased. I have also put a heavier guard on you and Ronald. Justice was to have brought that dog of yours in here, but I believe I heard my aunt direct him to take it to Ronald’s room until we are sure you are not going to sicken from the chill you suffered.”
“Aye, ’tis best. After he has been kept in a pen he might be a wee bit too happy to see me, and I am too tired to wrestle with him tonight. How long do ye think the Frasers might remain here?”
“I cannot say. I pray that the storm has ended come morning, but who can tell what whims the weather might follow. I wish I could punish them in some manner, but since the MacNairns have been declared outlaws by the king himself—”
“The Frasers have committed no crime in trying to kill me,” Ainslee said, and sighed with a mixture of weary resignation and anger. “A MacNairn is fair game for anyone. The worst the Frasers have done is to be poor guests.”
“And that is nothing I can punish them for, except to ne’er allow them near me again and, mayhaps, make it well known what they did whilst they were here. Sadly, few people will have sympathy for you, but they will not like the devious way of the Frasers.”
“That is something, I suppose.” She yawned and slid down beneath her covers. “ ’Tis a fine thing to be warm,” she said with a faint smile, and then grimaced as she looked at her bandaged hands. “I fear I must look quite battered and dreadful. It feels as if the wind and the cold tore half my skin off.”
“The salves will help, but, aye, you were quite raw. If you had been out in the storm for very much longer, I think you would have lost a few of those fingers and toes.”
“Aye, and when the cold bites into one to that depth, it can also take your life.” She shivered as she realized how close she had come to dying, then turned her attention to Gabel. “Watch the Frasers, Gabel.”
“I am.”
“Nay, I dinna mean just while they remain here, although I feel much better kenning that there are guards about. Nay, I mean from this day onward ye must watch the Frasers and watch them closely. Ye have done them no real wrong, but they have a most odd way of looking at rights and wrongs. Ye have caught them in their scheming and could taint their name, and ye have beaten them, taken away the prizes they sought—my death and ye as Margaret’s husband. I believe ye have just been added to the verra long list of ones the Frasers consider enemies and a danger to them. Watch your back, my trusting knight, for even Margaret is capable of sticking a dagger in it.”
“Why, Ainslee MacNairn, are you concerned for my well-being?” He grinned at her disgusted look and softly touched a kiss to her painfully chapped cheek.
“If my clan is to survive, my cocksure and too vain knight, a treaty must be struck with someone, and ye are the only one I have met thus far who would keep a bargain made with my father. ‘Twould be quite costly for the MacNairns if ye died, ’tis all.”
“Of course,” he murmured. “Rest, Ainslee. You need it to recover.” He laughed softly. “This was not the way I had envisioned this night.”
Knowing he had thought to return to their lovemaking just as she had, she grinned sleepily. “I fear ye shall have to cool your fever for a wee while, m’laird. At least until we are certain that what little skin the cold left upon me is healed enough to stay there.” As she felt the need to sleep pull at her, she reached out and touched his cheek. “I meant what I said, Gabel. Watch your back, for if ye are fool enough to forget that, and the Frasers stick a dagger in it, I shall return from wherever I am and kill ye myself.”
“If it is possible for a man to be killed twice, then I believe you may just be the woman who could do it.”
Ainslee laughed, a soft, brief sound, before she gave into the urge to sleep. For a long while Gabel just stared at her, tenderly holding her bandaged hand. Although it would still leave him with far more problems than he wanted to deal with, he found himself hoping that Duggan MacNairn was as dishonorable and as heartless as he was rumored to be, and that the man refused to ransom his own daughter. Gabel then cursed himself for a selfish bastard who was trying to have everything he wanted—the treaty or an end to MacNairn, Ainslee, and the appropriate wife. Keeping Ainslee as his leman would hurt her, as would her father’s refusal to ransom her, no matter how stoutly she claimed it did not, and Gabel knew he would do most anything to keep from hurting her. He knew he had lost the battle to keep his emotions tucked away, but he vowed that he would not let them rule him.
Eleven
“Stop fretting o’er those hands, lassie,” Ronald scolded Ainslee as he entered her bedchamber to find her rubbing more salve onto her almost healed hands. “Ye will be rubbing them back to the raw, tattered state they were in a week ago.”
Ainslee smiled crookedly as she watched her friend walk to the bed and sit down on the edge. Insisting that she needed to be protected, he had gotten out of bed the day after her ordeal. It had concerned her that he would further harm himself by trying to do too much too soon, but the Frasers left two days later. That had allowed Ronald to rest again, although he had not completely returned to his bed. His strength had returned more each day, however, and she began to feel confident that he would make a full recovery from his wounds.
She set aside the pot of salve, arranged herself more comfortably on the sheepskin before the fire, and idly scratched her sleeping dog’s ears. Although she was very glad to see Ronald, a part of her was disappointed that it had not been Gabel at her door. Gabel had made no attempt to make love to her again. He had been affectionate, but had never ventured beyond a light caress or a gentle kiss. She was beginning to fear that he no longer wanted her, that their one night together had been all she would ever have. That thought made her want to weep, but she struggled to hide her worries and unhappiness from Ronald.
“Ye appear to be quite hale,” she said.
Ronald nodded and helped himself to a tankard of mead. “It tires me to be on my feet, yet, at the same time, it helps me regain my strength. Each day I need to return to my bed less and less.” He silently offered her a tankard of the honey wine, and she shook her head. “I am glad to see how weel ye have recovered, and to see the backs of those Frasers.” He frowned as he sipped his mead. “The parting wasna friendly. Young Sir Gabel had best watch his back around those Frasers.”
“I think he is weel aware of that now. The mon might be too honorable to see all the treachery some people can brew, but he has wit enough to watch for it once he has been warned.”
“Aye, he does. He spends a great deal of time with you, lassie.”
“He does, but ye can get that glint out of your eyes, old friend. There willna be a match made there.”
“And why not? The lad has bedded you—”
“Ronald!”
“I may be old, lassie, but I am nay blind nor deaf.”
“People are talking about it?” she asked, dismay softening her voice, for she had hoped that, although it was no secret, it would not become the fruit of gossip.
“Dinna look so horrified. ’Tis no more than a word whispered here and there, a hint. I suspected what might happen between ye and that braw Norman, so I kenned what was meant. Truth, I dinna ken what makes the difference, but none here condemn ye or speak of the matter as if it be a sin and a shame. Ye can still hold your wee head up as ye walk these halls.”
“ ’Tis most likely the great love they hold for their laird.” She smiled crookedly. “I have gained the feeling that many here believe the mon can do no wrong, that he is but a step away from beatification.”
Ronald laughed and shook his head. “Aye, I have seen that as weel.” He grew serious and studied her closely. “And how do ye feel about the lad?”
The way Ronald kept referring to Gabel as a lad made her smile, but her good humor was fleeting. “I think ye ken how I feel.”
“Ye love him.”
“Aye, but it matters not.”
“Nay? ’Tis why ye bedded down with him.”
“I think it may be, although I wasna thinking much about love at the time.” She briefly giggled at the way Ronald rolled his eyes. “I wanted him, and I am sorry if that causes ye any disappointment.”
“Ye are a lass of strong feeling, Ainslee. I always kenned that, when your woman’s heart was finally touched, ye would give all. Nay, ye can ne’er disappoint me. I am not so blind with a father’s affection that I think all ye do is right, but ye need not fear that I will condemn ye for, mayhaps, loving unwisely.”
“And that is just what I have done, I fear. Oh, aye, the mon is worth loving. There is no question of that. The lack of wisdom is in loving him when I kenned from the beginning that he would ne‘er wed me or e’en love me back. Howbeit, my feelings couldna be tidily locked away and made to act as they should.”
“Feelings ne’er can.”
She tilted her head and looked at him with open curiosity. “Nay? I think Gabel locks his away verra tightly, and is e’er on the alert for their escape.” She flopped down onto her back, crossed her hands beneath her head, and smiled fleetingly when Ugly groaned in his sleep and stretched out at her side. “Gabel doesna want to feel anything except lust. He likes the passion and is willing to let that have its way, but I think anything else gets firmly chained away.”
“That isna a good way for a mon to live. If ye swallow such emotion too often, ’twill rot your belly. Are ye sure? Mayhaps he is but one of those men who canna show what he feels verra clearly, and canna find the words to speak about it.”
“I am sure. His cousin Elaine told me a tale of betrayal that explains his manner verra weel. A woman he trusted, mayhaps loved, used him, tricked him, and his blindness to her true nature cost him the life of his closest friend, a companion since boyhood.”
“Many a lad suffers a heart’s sorrow—”
“I ken it, but do they also suffer the loss of a friend?”
“Weel, nay, but—”
“Ronald, he was but an untried boy. The woman was older, wiser, and steeped in treachery. She also worked to help her true lover murder the de Amalvilles and steal their wealth. She tried to kill Gabel, but his friend took the mortal wound instead. Gabel held him as he died. He kenned who had ordered the murder as weel. He was able to warn his kinsmen of the treachery afoot, but that couldna soothe the pain of kenning that his blindness had killed his dear friend and could weel have helped his enemy defeat his own family.” She turned on her side to look at Ronald. “I think it was then that Gabel decided emotion was a dangerous thing, feelings could not be trusted, and, mayhaps, that love was the most dangerous emotion of all.”
“He doesna seem to be a cold mon.”
“Nay, and at times I believe that truly irritates him.” She grinned when Ronald laughed. “I am soon to return to Kengarvey. There is no way Gabel can keep me here, even if he wanted to. The bargain must be made, for the king has demanded a treaty. I dinna have the time to try and heal his wounds, to try and make him trust in emotion again.”
“And so ye must take whate’er ye can.”
“I fear so. Howbeit, I begin to think that his passion was even more fleeting than I had thought, for he has not been in my bed since that night.” She frowned when Ronald chuckled and shook his head. “Ye canna find that amusing?”
“Nay, not that if it were true, but it isna.”
“Oh? Have ye the skill to ken what Gabel de Amalville thinks?”
“Dinna hone your tongue on me, lass,” Ronald admonished her gently. “Tell me, did the lad stay the night with you?”
“Aye. Weel, he slipped away before the sun rose so that some discretion might be maintained.” She failed to stop her blushes as she answered, but acted as if she was oblivious to them.
“If the mon found the bedding of ye to be a sad disappointment, he wouldna have stayed the night. And he wouldna have his men wondering why he is behaving so gallantly, and thus making his mood so sour.”
Ainslee grimaced and blushed again at the thought of Gabel’s men discussing them. “So, I
have
become the fodder of gossip.”
have
become the fodder of gossip.”
“Nay, I swear ye havena. ’Tis but a few remarks made by those who have felt the keen edge of their laird’s temper. They ken exactly why he is in such a black mood.”
She sat up and smiled faintly. “Because he is doing something he doesna really like to do—staying away from me?”
“Exactly. Howbeit, lassie, ye can only be hurt by all of this. As ye say, ye must leave soon. Mayhap the parting will go easier if ye havena been sharing his bed. Mayhaps, if ye step away now, ye can begin to put aside your feelings for him, and ye willna be so sorely hurt when ye are taken back to Kengarvey.”
“Nay, that willna work.” She stood up, walked over to Ronald, and kissed his cheek, before helping herself to a small drink of mead. “I love that Norman oaf. Bedding him or not bedding him willna change that. Nay, nor will it change how it shall pain me to leave him, to ken that he will soon take another to wife. I must take what pleasure I can, whilst I can. I must try and drink my fill of all the good Gabel and I share, whilst I can. All I will have when I return to Kengarvey are my memories, and I plan to make so many that my heart and mind will be crowded with them.”
Ronald stood up, flexing his stiff leg before he started toward her door. “I canna say I wouldna do the same.” He paused before opening the door. “Doesna it anger ye that he willna wed ye, that he wouldna e’en consider ye as a bride?”
“At times,” she confessed as she sat down on her bed. “Howbeit, I ken weel what I lack. I also understand that he canna think only of himself or of me when he chooses a bride. There are too many people depending on him. The MacNairns are outlaws, condemned and reviled by the king. It willna help Gabel’s cause or his future if he claims one of us as his bride. Nay, ‘twould be wondrous if he could love me enough to risk the king’s anger or his future to take me as his wife, but e’en if that was possible, I dinna have the time to make it happen.”
“Nay. Weel, take care, lassie. I canna shield ye from this pain.”
She sighed and flopped down on the bed after he left. It was easy to talk so nobly, to display such acceptance and wisdom, but she was not sure she felt it, or believed everything she said. Leaving Gabel was going to tear her apart, and she dreaded it. She also knew that nothing she could do or say could prevent it. At times she thought she had made a terrible mistake in letting him make love to her, but then she would recall the beauty of it. How could she resist it, especially when she knew it was all she could ever have?
It was weak to let her emotions rule when her mind told her she gained nothing from it, that she would in fact lose a great deal. That made it easy to understand Gabel’s resistance to any emotion. She did wish, however, that he would give her some sign, some word, that she would not be forgotten the moment she was back at Kengarvey. He would be haunting her memories for the rest of her life. It seemed only fair that she should haunt his at least for a week or so.
Gabel took a deep breath to calm himself, then spoke to the stableboy in a more controlled voice. The lad had only erred slightly, feeding a colt who had already been well fed was not a crime worth the anger he had nearly buffeted the boy with. There was an ache gnawing at his insides which kept him taut and ready to lash out at everyone and everything that crossed his path. He had had but a brief taste of the fierce passion he shared with Ainslee, and he wanted, needed, more.
Out of consideration for the ordeal she had been through and her injuries, he had stayed out of her bed, not wanting to press his attentions on her when she was still healing. It was gallant and the right thing to do, but he hated every minute of it. Gabel knew that some of his urgency came from the knowledge that she would not be at Bellefleur for very much longer. Each night they slept apart was one more night lost forever. He forced a smile, ruffled the boy’s curls, and headed back into the keep. If he was fortunate, he could reach his bedchamber without meeting anyone. When, just inside the keep, he met Justice, he cursed. The grin on his young cousin’s handsome face told him that Justice was aware of what ailed him, and intended to tease him about it.
“Aye,” drawled Justice as Gabel slipped around him and started up the stairs. “I think it past time that you sought the bedchamber.”
“I am going to my bedchamber to clean the stable dirt from my hands,” Gabel replied, giving his cousin a repressive look that Justice gleefully ignored.
“Wrong bedchamber, if you intend to cure what ails you and what makes you most difficult to bear.”
“Ware what you say, cousin. I am in no humor to hear e’en the tiniest insult.”
“I would ne’er insult my most honorable cousin.”
“ ’Twas not me I referred to, and you know it well.”
Justice leaned against the stair post and shook his head. “I am not sure why you are putting us all through this ordeal. ’Tis not as if the woman has refused you, or told you to leave her be.”
“You cannot know what passes between me and Ainslee.”
“Nay, not all of it. Howbeit, I am not some sweet page who has ne‘er loved or lusted after a woman. I believe I also know Ainslee MacNairn. If she let you bed her once, ’tis not her who keeps you out of her bed now. You do. I but wonder why.”
“Have you forgotten the ordeal she suffered through because of Lady Margaret’s attempt to kill her?”
“Not at all. That was a week ago, cousin. The woman is healed now. In truth, except for her badly roughened and snow-burned skin, she was hale enough for what you crave by the very next day. You have claimed that she is not the same as the ladies we are accustomed to, that she is stronger, wilder, yet you treat her as the most delicate of flowers. I praise you for your gallantry, but I do wish you would put a swift end to it. Aye, as do most of your men, kinsmen, and maids.”
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