Knight's Legacy (8 page)

She fell asleep while he cuddled her to him. He moved from her body very slowly, but still he noticed her wince. It was then he saw the stain of blood on her thighs. Rising, he went to find a cloth and soaked it with water.

She slept like the dead, for she made no protest when he made her more comfortable by washing her. Keeping the blanket over his hands, he worked deftly in case she awakened. His wife was extremely modest. She turned over in her sleep, lying on her belly.

Roderic sucked in his breath in an angry hiss. On her back was a black bruise the size of his fist. He was instantly furious and wanted to shake her awake to demand who had done this to her, but he did not. She was exhausted, and he did not wish to disturb her. It was not necessary, for he knew the answer to his question. Mackay. Trying to fathom any man capable of slamming his fist in her back with such force, he lightly touched her silky skin near the discolored spot.

Roderic had been taught about honor and justice by a man that believed such was not an opportunity, but a responsibility of all men. Alexander took Roderic into his household long before he was the King of Scotland. The man made every effort to instill in him virtues that included seeing to the safety of women and children. Any man who would beat a woman was a despicable coward. Yet, Mackay was also a murderer, so that sin would hold no fire to his conscience.

He bent down, placing a kiss on the dark patch of her skin, and pulled up the blanket, folding her in his arms, his hand resting under her breast. Intoxicated by the scent of her hair as it lay in a swirl upon his chest, he picked up some of the silky strands and brought them to his nose and inhaled.

His thoughts were a chaotic tangle, and Roderic could not put a name to the anxiety he felt. His gentle little wife was responsible for the most overwhelming session of love-making he had ever experienced. No timid virgin, she did not weep and expect to be cosseted, but was a woman who reached out to touch and build his own desire with her every movement. He had just discovered that her virgin's pain must have been worse than he had known, considering the injury on her back, yet she said nothing, and even tried to ease his guilt at inflicting it. That concern inspired a deep and abiding tenderness for his bride. The lady was beginning to mean too much to him. He could not allow it.

Women served a purpose. A truly wise man kept his emotions far removed and safe from any woman, even his wife. Warriors did not permit a woman more power than she should wield. Roderic was a warrior, and he would not allow one small female to turn him into a lovesick squire.

The sound of rain awakened him. Sitting up to find himself alone in the bed, he looked about restlessly. His sword was in his hand and he was up making ready to defend her before his gaze fell on Brianna across the room. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed. It was raining, and she had pulled back the leather on the window. Wrapped in a blanket, she sat on the floor there, her head in her hand, silently listening to the rain. He put down his sword and went to her, kneeling down beside her.

“Brianna … what is it?”

She held up her hand in protest.

“I'm feeling slightly dismayed. I am not accustomed to being … married.”

Sitting down, he pulled her into his arms so she sat on his lap instead of the cold stone. She pulled the blanket over his chest.

“You need not fear this marriage, Brianna. I want your happiness. I will take care of you.”

“Will you do something for me, Roderic?”

He stroked her hair and cupped her face, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “If I can, at all cost, little one. What is it?”

She looked away from him into the rainy night. “Would you call me Catherine?”

“Catherine?”

His dark eyes were full of compassion, confused at her request. The sound of her pain, though it was a small worry, was intolerable, and he wished nothing more at that moment than to do all he could to remove it.

“It's a name my mother used for me on occasion,” she whispered. “I was thinking of her and feeling lonely.”

Suddenly, he understood; she missed her mother. He had learned from King Alexander that Elizabeth Mackay was a kind, caring woman. It was certainly just that Brianna should miss her on the day she was married. That love and acceptance was replaced by cruelty from the moment her mother died. Roderic would indulge his wife.

“Very well, Catherine. You must come back to bed, sweeting. It's too cold by the window.”

“Not yet. I like the sound of the rain.”

He began to warm her by massaging her limbs and pulling her close. She reached out to him, nuzzling her cheek to his chest. There was a subtle desperation in the way she clutched him.

“You washed me, didn't you? You cleaned me up?” It was a shy whisper.

“Yes, little one,” he said tenderly. He stroked up and down her back.

“You must have been very gentle. I didn't wake up.”

Roderic shook his head and smiled down at her. “You slept so soundly, a broadax battle would not have awakened you. Come, let me get you back to bed. We must prepare for a journey, and you need to rest.”

“A journey?”

“Yes. Our marriage has sealed an alliance. As soon as it can be arranged, we will go together to see the dear friend of your mother. He wishes to speak to you.”

There was an amused glint in his eyes. He stood up in a fluid motion and carried her to the bed.

“A friend of my mother's?” she exclaimed, and turned to him as if confused, her gaze apprehensive.

He smiled and kissed her forehead.

“Forgive me for my jest. You have been heartsore because you miss your mother. Now is not the time for jesting. Do not give way to fear, for your mother's friend is your own, and your Sovereign. We will soon meet with the King.”

“Please, Roderic! I don't wish to meet with the King! I am certain he will not remember me, and I have no wish to go! Please, promise me!”

He wanted to give her comfort, yet he did not understand her fear.

“Hush, hush now. We must go, but we will wait a few days if you need to make ready. Brianna, he means you no harm, and you needn't fear the King. He was very fond of your mother.”

As he held her in his arms, he was aware that his gentle words had not swayed her foreboding.

Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.

~Proverbs 3:27

C
at stood beside the bed and stared down at Roderic. Having an air of authority, his face was strong and handsome even as he lay relaxed, sleeping deeply.

I need to go home! What am I doing?

Cat muttered to herself while she searched for her clothes, pacing as if she were late for work. “Merlin, if you think this is funny, I'm going to punch your lights out! I can't stay here! I hate being without my cell phone! How do they communicate here? Smoke signals?”

She bent down on all fours, searching silently for her boots, continuing to mutter in a furious whisper. “My first thought when I woke up was ‘I need to check my e-mail.' Then, I remembered where I am. I'm supposed to trust my heart, you say? Let's just examine my location, shall we, Merlin? I'm in bed with Mr. Gorgeous, but he's my husband! Husband! The translation of that in this time period is he owns me like a horse!”

Cat sat up carefully, then stood. “Calm down, Cat, and think. Where the hell are those boots? Oh yes, the trunk!”

Cat tiptoed over to the trunk while keeping a cautious eye on the bed. Roderic slept on. Opening the trunk, she frantically pulled out clothing. Finally, she found the boots, buried deep under the clothes. Carefully, she shut the trunk lid, watching Roderic all the while. Dressing in a chainse and dark bliaut, she strapped on her sword and tiptoed out of the chamber. As she went down the stone steps, she found the black cloak she had worn and threw it on, pulling up the hood. One of Roderic's men, Alec, stopped her briefly. Implying that her husband knew she was going for a walk, she asked that Roderic not be disturbed.

Cat was relieved when the stable boy was still asleep, and thus made no move to stop her. Choosing a small sorrel with a dark mane, she walked out of the stable.

Having awakened with the thought that maybe the portal was not at the castle at all, she decided to ride to the stream where she landed. With desperate hope she could not abandon, Cat hoped to find it there, wanted to find a way out before it was too late for she was becoming far too immersed in her life here as Brianna.

Cat walked the animal past the clan's small stone cottages and went east through the trees. Once she was out of sight, she swung up on the horse and quickened her pace.

Riding bareback, she controlled the animal with her knees, the mare giving her little trouble.

Soon Cat sensed that she was being followed and, unsheathing her sword. She turned the horse. The rider made no attempt to hide his approach, and heaving a sigh of relief, Cat recognized the shock of red hair and the slight form on the brown horse. “Kenneth! You shouldn't have followed me! Go home! Now!”

He smiled as if it were a game, shaking his head.

Pointing toward the keep behind him, she did her best to look stern. “Go! How can I make you understand? If I have to go away, you can't come with me!”

The happy expression fell from his face as if she had slapped him. Cat urged her mount forward until her knee brushed his, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Very well, I don't suppose it will matter. You can find your way back if I find the portal. If not, we can go back together.”

As they rode deeper into the woods, Cat watched for familiar signs, having taken careful note of her surroundings on the ride with Angus. Kenneth seemed to be in a joyful mood as he listened and watched the forest around them.

“Edna said you fear most people. I'm glad you're not afraid of me. We're misfits, you and I. They think we're crazy, and unlike my world, that doesn't mean a comfortable hospital where you visit a shrink every day. Here you could be shut away permanently, or even burned as a witch. I've got to be careful, because superstition can literally be the death of me, especially if I talk about the mist and the door. I doubt even Roderic could protect me. His decree would serve me naught. “

She paused. “I'm beginning to use the medieval speech!” Cat shook her head as if surprised. “It's probably best I do if I want to avoid trouble. They all believe I merely wandered from my clan.”

Falling silent, the horses plodded on for another hour. Cat turned the sorrel so that she rode side by side with Kenneth instead of ahead of him.

“It just occurred to me, Kenneth. If you could manage an occasional phrase such as ‘and how did that make you feel'? you would make an excellent psychologist. I can vent my feelings freely with you. I have to release them somehow, or I truly would go mad. I can't even grasp what I've done!” She shook her head.

“I have no excuse for it. None. Last night I was playing the part of Brianna. Somewhere in the back of my mind was this ridiculous rationalization. Cat Terril could not make love to a total stranger, even though she found herself married to him. But Brianna? Ah! Brianna could make love to her husband, for it was perfectly acceptable.” Kenneth smiled softly at her, and Cat smiled back.

“How could I have let this happen? It was totally irresponsible of me. I don't care if I do think he is the most handsome specimen of manhood I've ever seen.”

Her voice became whisper soft. “When he came to me on the stairs and took me to the tower room, he looked devastatingly handsome in the firelight, like something women fantasize about, not a real human being. That chest of his could sell millions of dollars worth of designer clothing in my time.”

She shook her head as if disgusted.

“It doesn't matter. I knew better. I've been fending off cowboys in pick-up trucks since I was seventeen, and never once was tempted to let them take liberties with my body.” Cat paused for a full minute.

“Liberties. That's a ridiculous understatement. The word doesn't even begin to describe it, because the man took total possession. There is nothing unconsummated about this marriage. Now, if I do somehow go back through the time portal, I could very well have a child to bring up alone. All the others in the past left me cold, Kenneth. I could always pull back and put a stop to it. Yet, when Roderic touched me … I … lost all thought or reason. I've never felt such an intense sexual need, such desire. He seduced me, but I allowed it, and I'm not going to pretend for one moment that I didn't want him as much as he wanted me. These feelings are scary, because I want to stay for a while, Kenneth. I want to be with him, if only for a short time.”

Suddenly Kenneth raised his head as if alert to a sound only he could hear, and the horses became skittish. Cat reached down to stroke the mare's neck.

“What is it?” she whispered. She sensed the fear in her mount just as Kenneth slipped off his horse to walk around behind them.

The men came out of the trees. She and Kenneth were confronted by three mounted warriors wearing plaids of red, yellow, and blue. Their swords were drawn and ready, and Cat drew her weapon and forced her horse in front of Kenneth. The men stared at her in surprise and lowered their arms. Cat stared back, chin raised, and the large man in the middle spoke up.

“Be easy, lass. We won't hurt the boy. I am Robert Maitland. We have come for the priest, Father MacNair. He is the only one near, and we have need of him to perform last rites.”

“He is at the Mackay keep. I am Brianna, Lady Montwain. The priest just performed my marriage.”

Cat was quick to notice the man's expression was one of extreme emotional distress, despite his control. Frowning, she leaned forward. “Someone has died?”

The man sighed, and sheathed his sword. “I am Laird of the Maitland clan. My wife will die, soon, if she does not give birth to her babe. Helen has asked for a priest, and I'll have the man there with her if I have to go to war for it. It may be the last wish I can grant her.”