A Knight's Temptation Read online

  Mayhap that was for the best, for he didn’t know what he’d say to her if she wanted to converse at length. He tended to become inept at speaking when she was near.

  Lady Ilisa Douglas was beautiful with her soft blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Long lashes and arched brows over eyes the color of a winter sea made him forget his thoughts. The fragility of her features hid intelligence and determination she didn’t realize she had. She and her family had been through so much. Looking at her overly long tied his thoughts in knots.

  Yet even as he studied her while she glanced about the one-room cottage, he knew. She intended to leave. He looked at where her and Alec’s few possessions normally sat near the fire. They were gone.

  An odd mix of anger and hurt stole through him. “Leaving, are you?”

  Guilt took over her expression even as her chin lifted. “I believe Alec and I should move to St. Mary’s. Prioress Matilda would no doubt take us in.”

  “That will make it difficult for me to protect you.” The moment he said the words, he regretted them. He closed his eyes, silently cursing his weak body. No doubt she thought she’d be safer at the nunnery than here with him. He wasn’t certain he could lift his sword let alone wield it in defense of her or Alec.

  “You’ve sacrificed enough for us already.”

  Still, his anger wouldn’t subside. “Take care not to be caught because I can’t save you at the moment.”

  Her lips twisted at his remark as though she found it displeasing. Good. Perhaps then she’d think twice.

  She moved toward him, her kirtle clinging in all the right places on her slim figure. The thin braided leather belt that held her knife sat low on her hips. How ridiculous that his attention lingered on her figure when she’d just told him she planned to depart. ’Twasn’t as if he wanted to stay here with the unhappy ice princess anyway. Nor did she want to be here with him.

  If not for the manners his mother and father had drummed into him since he could remember, he’d be tempted to tell her that he disliked her as much as she disliked him. Which was both immature and a lie.

  What in God’s teeth was wrong with him?

  “How are you feeling this morn?” Her soft-spoken words of concern had him scowling.

  “Well.” He didn’t look at her as he answered.

  “Liar.” The bold statement caused him to though. She lifted a brow as his gaze met hers as though daring him to protest.

  “Humph.” That was as much protest as his bruised ego was willing to give. He knew he acted gruffly but couldn’t help it. How often had his own mother told him he made the worst patient?

  “You had a fever during the night.” She stepped to the side of his bed, reached out a gentle hand, and touched his forehead. “It seems to have broken.”

  “Aye.” Again he closed his eyes, enjoying her touch, wishing he could think of an excuse for her to continue.

  “I would imagine you’re hungry.”

  His stomach growled in response.

  Her soft chuckle had him quickly opening his eyes. Her rosy lips curved and her blue-grey eyes lit with mirth. The sight caused his breath to catch. “You don’t smile enough.” The words escaped before he thought them through.

  Those eyes widened even as her lips resumed their normal solemn pose. “Rarely is there anything to smile about.” She turned away and walked to the hearth.

  He couldn’t argue with that. Her life had been difficult for over two summers now. And nothing indicated it would be improving any time soon. Not with someone intent on killing her and the rest of her family.

  “I wish you would consider staying.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him then bent to stir a pot hanging over the low fire. “Are you feeling so poorly then?”

  He hesitated, wondering how honest to be. “Weak still.”

  “We will remain until Hilda returns.” She dished some pottage into a wooden bowl and brought it to him with a spoon.

  If she left, what would he do? Where would he go? It seemed unwise to consider returning to Berwick. The chances of Sir Gilbert, the new governor of the city, deciding to have him killed would surely increase. Nor was he strong enough to make the journey home on his own. Staying with Hilda wasn’t an option either.

  Yet the idea of returning home tempted him. He missed his family dearly. He missed the rolling hills of his small holding that bordered his father’s. The longing that coursed through him surprised him with its strength. Obviously, he was weaker than he realized if he felt this way.

  He shifted to a sitting position, leaning against the bolster and settling the bed linens over his lower body as best he could. “My thanks,” he said as he took the bowl of steaming pottage, the aroma causing his stomach to growl again. The thin soup-like dish held bits of onion, carrots, and leeks with some dried herbs, including cloves, for seasoning.

  “Alec tells me it requires more salt.” She handed him a small clay salt cellar.

  “I’m certain ’tis good.” He took a spoonful only to realize he should’ve taken her, or rather Alec’s, advice. He barely managed to swallow the tasteless paste. “Perhaps just a little salt.”

  “I’m not adept at cooking.” She shook her head, her cheeks flushing as her plaited hair swung over her shoulder.

  “Nor am I. Chanse has that skill, so it never occurred to me to learn it. He normally cooks our meals when we travel. He has more spices in his saddlebags than most wives have in their kitchen.”

  “Alec offered to sneak into Berwick to buy some bread, but I forbade him.” To his surprise, she perched on the side of the bed, watching him as he ate.

  “Wise decision. A loaf of bread is not worth being captured.” Luckily, the addition of salt much improved the pottage.

  “Don’t you think that since a sennight has passed, the situation has calmed enough that we could return home?” The wistful note of longing in her voice tugged at him.

  He took another bite to allow himself time to think of some way to counter her disappointment. Unfortunately, none came to mind. “Nay.”

  “But—”

  He reached out a hand to cover hers where it rested on her lap. “Ilisa, even if Sir Gilbert has decided against retaliating for what we did or he thinks we did, what of the Sentinels?”

  She sighed. “I don’t understand why they want me and my family dead. What do we have to do with who leads Scotland?”

  “I don’t know. But considering we don’t even know who these men are, other than Lord James Graham, it will be nearly impossible to protect you from them.”

  She rose to pace the small space. “I wouldn’t know Lord Graham if he passed me on the street, nor would he know me.”

  “They might not know what you look like, but as long as your surname is Douglas, and you’re sister to Sir William, they want you dead.”

  “There are many others with tighter ties to England than my family if that is their purpose.”

  “Then they’ll probably be eliminated as well.”

  She paused to stare at him. “You’re not making me feel any better.”

  He couldn’t help but smile even if she didn’t mean it as a jest. “Am I supposed to be making you feel better?” If so, he could think of a far better method of doing so than talking.

  “I suppose I would like assurance that all will be well.”

  Braden didn’t answer as he scraped the spoon along the bottom of the bowl, wishing he could offer it without uttering lies. He’d appreciate support as well, but he’d bet his last coin that no one could provide it to either of them.

  “That is why I thought it best if we go to the nunnery,” she added as though realizing he couldn’t give her what she wanted.

  He met her gaze. “I don’t know if Prioress Matilda can protect you or offer assurances for that matter. From what little I know of nuns, few know how to fight.”

  Ilisa sighed. “But if no one knew we were there—”

  “So each time a tradesman comes or someone from Be
rwick in need of something arrives, you’ll quickly hide so no one will know you’re there? Can you guarantee none of the sisters will allow it to slip that you and Alec are staying there? What of Alec? Do you expect him to muck out the stable and hoe the garden all the day?”

  She glared at him, hands on hips. “You’re making it sound impossible.”

  He lifted one shoulder, noting that her gaze lingered there. His body warmed in response, and it had nothing to do with a fever.

  Surely, he was mistaken. She could barely stand to remain in the same room with him. There wasn’t any possibility of her being attracted to him. He returned his thoughts to the subject at hand. “I only raise these questions to make certain you’ve thought of every possible outcome.”

  She turned away to pace once more. “Obviously not. So we’re just supposed to wait here until your brother or the others return? And when they do? Then what?”

  “Excellent questions to which I do not have answers.” He rubbed a hand over his stomach. While the pottage helped fill the void, he doubted he’d regain his strength on such a diet. And if Ilisa and Alec left, the road ahead of him would be even more difficult.

  He wanted her to stay for many reasons, some of which he didn’t care to put words to, yet he wouldn’t lie in order to convince her to stay. Though he wasn’t capable of protecting them this day, he hoped he soon would be. Regardless of his present health, he’d be breaking his vow to Sophia and Garrick to watch over Ilisa and Alec if they went to St. Mary’s. His word was his honor. If he could do or say something that would help convince Ilisa to remain here with him, he’d gladly do it. Protecting her and Alec meant they needed to stay together.

  He didn’t like the situation any better than she, but he had the advantage of knowing it was temporary for him. It had no end in sight for her. He waited, hoping she’d agree to remain for more reasons than he cared to share.

  Ilisa raised a hand to rub her forehead, a gesture she did when worried. “We’ll wait to discuss it further when you’re feeling stronger.” She turned to face him. “We’ll stay. For now.”

  Before he could say anything more, she left, the door closing firmly behind her, the sweet scent of her lingering in the air. He sighed with relief but realized the days ahead would be a challenge in more ways than one.

  Chapter Two

  Ilisa rose the next morn as dawn lit the sky. She stirred the fire and added wood to chase away the chill and provide more light.

  Alec lay on his side on his pallet, his wool blanket tucked tightly around him. Her brother slept like the dead. Waking him required major effort. She envied him that.

  She neared the bed to check on Braden. To her relief, he still slept. The idea of his dark eyes watching her as she prepared for the day sent her stomach dancing.

  With a tentative hand, she touched his bandaged shoulder, pleased to find his body cool beneath her touch. He’d given her a scare when the fever developed. Hilda still hadn’t returned. If she didn’t arrive soon, Ilisa would need to change the bandage and clean his wound. The idea of being in such close proximity to the knight sent her stomach fluttering even more.

  The man made her uncomfortable. There was no point in denying it. When she’d first met him, she’d been certain the sensation was because of who he was—an English knight, the object of her nightmares.

  But she was no longer certain that was all there was to her feelings. Something else was afoot, something she didn’t care to examine too closely. Especially since he’d soon return to England, and she planned to take her vows at St. Mary’s.

  She moved to the pitcher and basin near the table and rinsed her face to chase away the dregs of sleep. She hadn’t slept well, too afraid the nightmare would return.

  After retrieving her cloak from the peg on the wall, she lifted the wooden plank that secured the door as quietly as possible and set it aside to let herself out.

  Hilda’s cottage sat tucked at the edge of the forest on a small rise some distance from Berwick. A fine mist lingered along the valleys, hiding the city and the nunnery from view though a portion of the river was visible.

  She breathed in the cool, fresh air, drawing her cloak more tightly about her. Spring would soon give way to summer. The scent and feel of the air heralded its impending arrival. Taking a moment to enjoy the quiet that always accompanied the mist, she turned in a slow circle, appreciating the sight of budding trees and spring flowers, signs of hope after the harshness of winter.

  In many ways, she was pleased she and Alec would remain here with Braden for the time being. Despite him being an English knight, she felt safe with him. For the most part. He always seemed to put her off balance, something she didn’t appreciate as she already felt as though she teetered on a precipice, unsure which way to go for fear of falling.

  But for the next few days, she wanted to set the uncertainty and worry aside and just be. She intended to repay Hilda’s kindness for allowing them to stay here. A glance at the dwindling woodpile made her make a mental note to have Alec try to split some more logs. Though young, he was quite strong from all his outdoor activities. Between the two of them, they should be able to replenish the supply.

  She spent some time weeding the carefully planted gardens. Hilda had one for healing herbs and another for cooking herbs. While Ilisa couldn’t claim to recognize all the plants, it was well-tended enough to make it clear what was out of place in the neat rows.

  “Good morn, Ilisa,” Alec greeted her as he stepped outside.

  “And to you, brother.” She rose from her work and brushed off her hands. “What are your plans for the day?”

  Alec lifted a shoulder. “More fishing, I suppose.”

  “Are you growing weary of it?” His ability to catch salmon and sea trout had kept them from starvation more than once in the two years since the siege.

  “Mayhap a little.” He rubbed his stomach then cast her a grin. “But if I want to eat more than pottage, I suppose I will fish anyway.”

  She returned his smile, appreciating his willingness to help put food on the table. Fishing was far easier than hunting and better suited Alec’s abilities, especially since he’d witnessed so much violence during the siege. “My thanks for your sacrifice. Will you break your fast before you go?”

  He eyed her hopefully. “I don’t suppose you found any bread stashed in one of Hilda’s baskets?”

  “Nay, but I think I could try my hand at it.” Though the idea of doing so with Braden on the bed watching her had her shifting uncomfortably.

  “Coira always made it look easy.” Their maid remained in the city with her own family. Managing without her assistance was no easy task.

  “She made many things look easy, but we’ve both come to learn that was deceiving, haven’t we?”

  Alec nodded then glanced toward the cottage. “Is Sir Braden better this morn?”

  “No fever, which is a good sign. I’m certain he’ll be hungry when he wakes.”

  Alec looked relieved at her words. “Then I’ll see if I can catch something for our mid-day meal.” With a quick wave, he was gone.

  Ilisa knew he was as leery of knights as she, but he also appeared to be fascinated by Braden, Garrick, and Chanse. Though Sophia had suggested Alec consider continuing his training as a squire, which was what would’ve happened if not for the change in their situation, Alec had flatly refused.

  Ilisa understood. How could he seek to learn the very skills that had torn their lives apart, killing so many they knew? Nor did he want to leave the family when their lives were still so unsettled. Ilisa supported his refusal despite Sophia’s attempts to encourage him.

  Ilisa took the wooden bucket by the door and headed for the creek for water, dreading the idea of cooking when she had so little skill in the area. Looking inept in front of Braden held no appeal. She wished she’d paid more attention to what their maid added to the simple dishes she prepared.

  After filling the bucket from the creek, she slowly made her way b
ack to the cottage, pausing several times to rest. Water sloshed from the sides as she entered the cottage with the heavy bucket in hand.

  “Why are you doing that?” Braden’s deep voice startled her, nearly causing her to dump the entire contents on the dirt floor.

  She quickly set it down before she made a fool of herself. “Our servant has his half-day off.”

  Braden frowned before shaking his head at her sarcasm. “What of Alec?”

  “He has gone to catch some fish. That leaves me.” She didn’t dare attempt to lift the bucket to pour it into the basin. Not with Braden observing her every move. Instead, she left it on the floor and ladled water into the basin.

  Her cheeks heated as he followed her progress to the fire, where she retrieved the kettle to take it to the bucket, ladling water into it as well. “How are you faring this morn?” Any conversation was better than him simply watching her.

  “Better.”

  She studied him, doing her best to avoid looking at the breadth of his bare shoulders. “Good. Mayhap we should change the binding on your wound after we break our fast.”

  He glanced down at it. “All right.”

  “I’m going to attempt to bake some barley bread.” She thought she remembered how, and after Alec’s comment about bread, it sounded appealing. “But I can’t offer any promises as to how it might taste.”

  “Anything you make is much appreciated, and I will eat it with gratitude. And perhaps a bit of salt.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at that. She was thankful for his kindness, especially after his gruffness of the previous day. “Do not express gratitude until you’ve tasted it.” To her surprise, he chuckled. She raised a brow. “I’m not jesting.”

  “Oh.” He blinked as though uncertain how to respond. “Well, you will not hear any complaints from me. I intend to do all I can to regain my strength so I will be of more assistance.”

  Her stomach dipped at the idea of him up and moving about. She couldn’t imagine sharing the tiny space with a Braden who was healthy and moving, nor did she care for the idea of him ill in bed. Apparently, she didn’t know what she wanted.