A Knight's Temptation Read online

  The holding sat on a low rise in the distance. The view from the parapets would be incredible. Those watching the walls would be able to see anyone approaching from all directions for a far distance. No doubt their approach had already been noted. That only unsettled her further.

  Suddenly, the reality of the situation struck her hard. This was the holding of the man who wished her and everyone in her family dead. He’d gone so far as to order their murders. She’d never met him. He’d never met her. He only wanted her dead because she was William’s sister.

  How ridiculous was the idea that she was coming here as his guest?

  “Hugh?” She pulled back on her reins, staring at the keep as fear spread cold fingers along her spine.

  “Aye?” Braden drew to a halt alongside her then reached out to place his hand over hers.

  “I thought I could do this, but now...” She glanced back at Alec, the idea of putting him in harm’s way inconceivable. What had she been thinking? Her breath became more rapid as panic filled her.

  “Cairstine.”

  She turned to Braden again.

  “All will be well. I promise you.” His steady gaze and warm touch held her. “We’ve practiced. Even as upset as you are, you answered to Cairstine.” He looked over his shoulder at Alec. “Your brother is well prepared also. Graham won’t recognize you as you’ve never met. Nor has he ever seen Alec.”

  His reassurances calmed her more than she could say, but fear still clawed at her chest.

  “We will try this for a day or two and see how we fare. If any of us feel we’re in danger, we’ll feign some ailment and take our leave.”

  The notion eased her panic as well.

  “Think of our success,” he bid her, a small smile curving his lips. “We will return to Berwick and send a message to Garrick with the details. Both he and your sister will be pleased.”

  “Aye.”

  “I have no doubt your family is not the only one in Graham’s sights.”

  She nodded, certain that was true. She liked the idea of doing something that would make a difference, hopefully saving many. But that didn’t allay her concerns. Worrying her lower lip, she turned back to Alec. “Are you ready?”

  “Aye. I am.” His expression was solemn, telling her she wasn’t the only one worried about this venture. Mayhap that was a good thing. He’d tread carefully rather than treating it lightly.

  Her gaze swung to Braden’s, and she lifted her chin. “Then let us see if we can gain entrance.”

  He squeezed her hand then released it. “Excellent. I have no doubt they will welcome Sir Hugh de Grasse and his lovely wife, Cairstine. And of course, Sir Hugh’s faithful squire.” His comment garnered a chuckle out of Alec. “Shall we?” His watchful gaze held hers, but he didn’t move.

  Her heart tilted at his question. He was making the final choice hers, making certain she was comfortable before they proceeded. How many knights would do such a thing? Why didn’t he simply tell her to go as many men would?

  Reminding herself such thoughts were not helpful when she already struggled to keep her emotions under control around him, she studied the holding. “Aye. Let us proceed.”

  As they drew closer, they could make out tents visible above the wall pitched in the outer bailey.

  “Many have already arrived,” Braden said. “’Tis good as we will draw less notice.”

  “True.” She hadn’t thought of it like that. She’d only worried that she’d have to perform her role in front of more people. Braden had a different way of looking at situations.

  “We’ll present our invitation at the gate and ask where we should place our tent,” Braden said. “Once we’ve settled, we’ll take a look around.”

  Thinking of such details eased her worry. Her gaze narrowed as she studied her temporary husband. Did he realize that? Did he say such things for that reason? His thoughtfulness seemed endless. She’d never realized that about him.

  Then again, a good share of their time together had been spent with her aiding him. Now, their roles were reversed. That had to be the reason for her imbalance.

  The portcullis of the keep was raised, but the gate was well guarded.

  “Relax,” Braden bid her. “We’re not doing anything wrong, remember?”

  “Aye. We belong here.” She attempted a smile though she knew she did a poor job of it. “We have the invitation to prove it.”

  “Indeed. This is a joyous event. We’re here for the celebration. Nothing more.”

  If only that were true.

  “We’ll meet some of the other guests. Become acquainted with them.” The quiet rumble of his voice continued, keeping her from panic, as they rode toward the soldier guarding the gate. “And see if anyone hints at the fact that Lord Graham is up to no good.”

  “Hold.”

  Guards flanked them on either side.

  “State your purpose.” One of the men strode forward, looking them over carefully before settling his gaze on Braden.

  “Sir Hugh de Grasse.” Braden held up the invitation for the guard’s perusal.

  Ilisa did her best to keep her expression calm despite the pounding of her heart. Her gaze fell to the sword strapped to the guard’s side. The idea of it raised and directed at them had her swallowing back panic. She managed to force her gaze away to study the bailey which bustled with activity.

  The ringing of a blacksmith’s hammer, the scent of roasting meat, chickens squawking—all seemed normal and helped to calm her once again. Somehow, she had to gain control of her fear. Yet her mind wouldn’t step beyond the fact that the man who lived here wanted her dead. The thought nearly made her shudder.

  “Proceed,” the guard said, interrupting her thoughts. He pointed to where they should place their tent, giving Braden a few other instructions, none of which Ilisa heard as she tried to control her panic.

  “My thanks,” Braden said then led the way inside.

  Luckily, her mare followed Braden’s steed without any direction from her. She felt numb, her thoughts racing. With effort, she glanced around, attempting to take in more of their surroundings.

  Already a dozen tents were lined up in the outer bailey, large and small alike. The atmosphere was festive. Obviously, the guests were prepared for a celebration.

  Braden nodded at several people as he continued to the end of the row then halted. Alec quickly dismounted, taking the reins of their horses. Braden moved to Ilisa. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “Let the lies begin.” Her quiet words made Braden smile.

  “Mayhap it won’t be as difficult as you think.”

  “One can hope.” She placed her hands on Braden’s shoulders as he grasped her waist, doing her best to ignore the sparks such ordinary contact lit inside her.

  He easily lifted her to the ground, keeping his hands around her waist for a long moment. “Smile,” he whispered.

  Her lips curved upward.

  “That’s better. I would ask that once we’re settled and you’re comfortable, you find a lady you think you might like and befriend her. The sooner we begin our mission, the sooner we will finish.”

  “Right.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead, sending those sparks flying.

  No matter how often he made such gestures, she didn’t think she’d ever become accustomed to them. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy his attention. Doing so took little effort. Her smile was genuine as he drew back.

  “That’s better,” he declared as he studied her. “We’ll meet as many of the guests as we can and note anyone who acts out of the ordinary.”

  “Like us?” she asked, brow raised.

  “We are acting completely normal, remember?” He brushed a finger along her soft cheek. “Just continue to smile, and no one will notice how you act.”

  She frowned at him, not understanding his comment.

  “Your beauty will distract anyone from suspicion.”

  Her cheeks warmed at his words even though she knew
this was just pretend. If only it felt that way.

  “Alec and I will remove our bags from the horses then he’ll locate the stables.”

  “Very well.” As he stepped away, she clenched her hands into fists to keep from holding tight to him. Instead, she offered her opinion on the details of settling them into their temporary shelter.

  He and Alec made quick work out of raising the tent. Though not as elaborate as some, it matched many others in size and design.

  In a short while, she and Braden strolled around the outer bailey, stopping briefly to speak with several of the other guests who lingered nearby. As she realized she didn’t recognize any of them, her nerves settled. Most came from the north based on their strong accent.

  The bailey felt much like market day in Berwick with carts parked selling wares, food, and other treats.

  What would it be like to be husband and wife in truth, here to enjoy the celebration with the other guests? For a heartbeat, she wished her life were that normal, that this marriage were real, and that Braden were hers. But nay. Graham wanted her and her family dead. There was work to be done.

  She forced a smile to her lips, determined to fulfill her purpose here.

  “Haven’t seen Lord Graham or his daughter as of yet,” confessed one of the other guests to whom they introduced themselves. “They must be waiting until additional guests arrive before joining us.”

  Ilisa thought that unusual behavior. From what little the other wives had shared, none of them had been invited into the keep. That truly seemed odd for someone hosting the celebration.

  What might Graham be up to? An even better question was how could she help find out?

  Chapter Ten

  As they made their way along the row of tents, Braden realized how much he enjoyed walking with Ilisa, stopping to visit with a few of the other guests. She looked at him with a bright smile, her blue eyes warm, her hand wrapped around his arm, and his world tilted.

  If only all this were real.

  He gave himself a mental shake, forcing his focus to return to the task at hand. The stakes were high. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the moment.

  The tension they’d both been feeling eased when none of those they met questioned them about their identity.

  “This might be easier than we hoped,” Braden whispered.

  “May our luck continue,” Ilisa whispered back before turning to greet someone else.

  When several of the ladies gathered to speak and he was the only male, Braden shifted uncomfortably. Several of the women stared at him curiously, as if wondering why he didn’t join the men who stood in a group a short distance away.

  Ilisa sensed his unease and patted his arm before releasing him. “Mayhap you’d prefer to visit with the men?”

  Reluctant to leave her when she’d been so concerned earlier, he searched her face to see if she was truly comfortable. When she nodded and no shadows darkened her eyes, he excused himself and stepped away, anxious to see what information he could discover.

  He surveyed the area to determine who to approach first. He nodded at the small group of men visiting and, rather than joining them, walked toward the end of the row of tents where the largest and most elegant of them stood. The rectangular-shaped structure bore red and gold flags on either side of the entrance.

  A finely dressed man sat in an elaborately carved chair under the raised awning of the tent. A Persian rug added to the suggestion of a wealthy lord.

  He had to believe the person staying in it was one of the more important guests. That seemed a good place to start.

  “Good day,” Braden greeted the older man.

  “And to you.” He stood to return Braden’s greeting, a tall man with grey hair and a full beard, his bearing erect. “A fine day, is it not?”

  “Indeed.” Braden introduced himself, watching closely for the man’s reaction. To his relief, he saw none.

  “Pleasure to meet you. Lord Allaway of Edinburgh.”

  “Pleasure.” Braden turned to look across the bailey. “This looks to be quite the celebration.”

  “Lord Graham does nothing in half measures, does he?”

  “I can’t say that I know him well, though I was honored by the invitation.”

  “Graham and I have known each other since our youth.”

  Braden waited to see if he’d speak further about the lord, but he changed the topic to the weather.

  Soon Braden excused himself and moved on to another of the elaborate tents and held a similar conversation, adding that he’d spent much of his time in France of late. Perhaps if those here thought his loyalty was with France rather than England, it might make them more likely to talk.

  Time passed slowly as he did his best to meet most of the knights and lords present. He caught glimpses of Ilisa as she did the same, greeting people here and there.

  “She is beautiful.”

  He turned in surprise to the man with whom he spoke. “Excuse me?”

  “Your wife. She’s beautiful.” The man nodded to where Ilisa stood a short distance away. “You can hardly keep your eyes off her. Must’ve been a love match, eh?” The man laughed, leaving Braden speechless.

  Braden quickly moved on, finding another knight with whom to speak.

  “Where are ye from?” the knight asked.

  “South, not far from the border.” He’d told both Ilisa and Alec to avoid mentioning Berwick when possible. He didn’t want the name to nudge anything loose in someone’s memory and make them realize they weren’t who they said they were.

  Another man joined them, and Braden introduced himself.

  “Sir Hugh de Grasse? You must be Alastair’s son.”

  Braden stiffened, hoping the man didn’t go into too much depth. While the prioress had shared with them the basics of the de Grasse family, he knew little more than that. “Did you know him?”

  “Quite well.” He stared at Braden, eyes narrowed. “You don’t look much like him.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Braden smiled politely and changed the subject as quickly as possible. His heartbeat quickened with each new person he met after that.

  The prioress hadn’t mentioned that Sir Hugh’s father would be well known in this part of the country. Was there anything else she’d failed to reveal?

  He spent much of the afternoon concerned he’d be unmasked at any moment, waiting for someone to declare him a trickster. Was Ilisa experiencing the same?

  Anxious to see how she fared, he attempted to seek her out several times, only to be drawn into yet another conversation. Each time he was asked questions, he did his best to answer vaguely and turn the conversation from himself. He’d learned some time ago that most people liked to speak of themselves. Those were the ones who normally had no secrets to hide.

  While used to hiding one secret, this pretense was much more complicated.

  “Sir Hugh, this is Sir Matthew Lachlan. He leads Lord Graham’s garrison.”

  Not far from Braden’s age, something about his demeanor put Braden’s senses on alert. Mayhap the tall man’s cocky grin contributed to Braden’s impression of him.

  “I had the pleasure of speaking with your wife a short time ago,” Matthew said. “She is a delight.”

  That made Braden all the warier. He already knew how much of a delight Ilisa was. Hearing it from another man didn’t sit well with him. He wouldn’t trust the man any further than he could toss him.

  “I hope you’ll be participating in the tournament we’re holding,” Matthew continued. “The first of the competitions begins on the morrow.”

  For a moment, Braden was tempted to agree if only to have a chance to defeat the overconfident knight. But nay. That was not his mission here, nor was he fully recovered from his injury.

  Braden forced a smile. “Not this time, but I’ll look forward to watching and enjoying the festivities.”

  “Good day to you,” a man called out in a bo
oming voice, addressing the entire group in the bailey. “His lordship invites each and every one of you into the great hall for introductions.” He swept his hand toward the three-story keep to indicate they should proceed inside.

  Braden took his leave from the men with whom he’d visited then sought Ilisa, relieved when he found her not far from their tent.

  “Shall we make our way to the keep?” he asked as he took her arm. From the tightness of her smile, he could tell something was amiss. “What is it?” he murmured, taking care not to be overheard by the other guests who walked nearby.

  “I can’t say that I care for this.” She nodded at one of the other ladies with a polite smile. “I feel as if I’ll be caught in a lie at any moment.”

  “’Tis more stressful than I imagined,” Braden agreed. “Apparently my father was more well known than I expected. But I’m hopeful that by the end of the day, those attending this gathering will assume we are who we say we are.”

  “I hope so. Have you seen Alec?”

  “Not since he went to the stables.” A frown marred her brow at his words. “Shall I stop there to make certain all is well and meet you in the great hall shortly?”

  She tightened her hold on his arm briefly, making him wonder if she didn’t want to let him go. The notion pleased him far more than it should’ve.

  “It would ease my mind to know how he fares.” She glanced up at him from under her lashes.

  In that moment, he would’ve been hard-pressed to deny her anything, let alone such a simple request.

  “Consider it done.” He patted her hand as he released her to move toward the stables. “I’ll meet you inside anon.”

  Her steps slowed, but she continued walking with the other guests. He hurried, realizing he’d rest easier knowing Alec was fine as well.

  He located the stables easily and found Alec speaking with several other squires as he rubbed down their horses.

  “Sir Hugh? Are you in need of me?” he asked, hurrying forward when he saw Braden.

  Well aware of the other squires watching closely, Braden searched for an excuse. “I wanted to make certain you weren’t neglecting your duties. Did you see they have plenty of hay?”