Vengeance 02.5 - A Knight's Christmas Wish Read online

  “I would enjoy sharing it with you.”

  “Nay. I couldn’t. But thank you.” Her smile was forced. He knew her well enough to tell.

  Rylan reached across to tug on her reins, drawing her to a halt. He held her gaze, trying to determine what might be going through her mind. Why was she refusing to do something he was sure she wanted?

  “Please don’t think I’m not grateful.” She watched Anne and Joseph but didn’t look at Rylan.

  “We need only turn around and return to the crossroad we passed late yesterday. That is the road that would take us there.”

  She looked at him again and at last he saw indecision in her eyes. He pushed harder, suddenly wanting her with him desperately.

  “My family would be pleased to celebrate with you. I have a large family and many will be there. Two more will make the festivities even merrier.”

  Still she hesitated, but at least she didn’t refuse him again.

  “The convent doesn’t know you’re coming, do they?” he asked.

  “Nay.”

  “Then please say you will,” he added, not certain what else he could say to convince her. Not when he wasn’t sure why she was refusing his offer.

  “Allow me to discuss it with Anne.”

  He nodded and released her reins. She kneed her horse to ride up beside Anne.

  Joseph listened to what she said then dropped back beside Rylan, wearing a big grin. “I’m pleased you asked them.”

  “She has yet to say they will.”

  The boy frowned. “I thought she’d be excited at the idea.”

  Rylan didn’t respond. He didn’t know why she hesitated, but he intended to find out.

  The ladies visited for a time until at last they both eased back to ride beside he and Joseph.

  “We would be pleased to accept your invitation,” Kayte said with a wary smile.

  Rylan let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He was happier than he could explain. “Excellent.”

  He halted and turned his horse, waiting for the others to do the same. “If we increase our pace, we should reach the turn off by midday.”

  “Then let us hurry.” Kayte smiled and took off at a trot, making Rylan laugh. He refused to examine too closely why he was so happy she’d agreed at least.

  * * *

  The farther they traveled, the more Kayte worried. Yet how could she have continued to say no? He’d asked so sweetly. Never mind that she wanted to spend Christmas with him more than anything.

  She already feared her heart was lost to him. Spending more time with him would only make it worse. The idea of saying goodbye to him had already been difficult enough. After the coming fortnight—she feared it would be nigh on impossible.

  In truth, she wasn’t certain she was strong enough to bear it. Even now, her heart ached at the thought.

  “You have to trust that all will be well, my dear.” Anne rode closer to her, keeping her voice low.

  Kayte smiled at her aunt. “How do you know I’m worried?”

  “That tiny frown appears between your brows.”

  She rubbed the spot Anne referred to with a finger, hoping to make it go away. “I only worry that bidding the knight goodbye will be all the more difficult after we have Christmas with him.”

  Anne remained silent for a long moment. “I appreciate your concern, but I also don’t want you to live with regret the way I have. I would ask that you enjoy the moment. We will worry about the morrow on the morrow.”

  Kayte nodded, hoping she could do as Anne suggested.

  As they crested a rise, Rylan drew to a sudden halt. Kayte and Anne shared a worried glance until at last they reached the rise in the road as well.

  At the crossroad they had planned to take was a band of nearly a dozen men on horseback. A sick feeling poured through Kate at the sight of the colors the men wore.

  Harold.

  “Oh dear,” Anne said. “I’d thought us safe.”

  “As did I.”

  Rylan moved closer to Kayte. “Why is Lord Harold here?”

  Kayte felt her face heat. “I chose not to bid him goodbye, but I did leave him a message telling him of my plan. He’s impossible to speak with, and I feared he would try to prevent me from leaving.” She’d never dreamed he’d follow them this far. That took far more effort than Kayte had ever seen him expend.

  Realization spread over his face. “That was why you acted so strangely when we prepared to leave. You didn’t want to confront Lord Harold.”

  She heaved a sigh. “Arguing with him is much like arguing with a post. ’Tis difficult to make an impression. Added to that is the fact that he’s rarely sober enough with which to converse.”

  Rylan frowned. “Does he think I took you against your will?”

  “Surely not. The message I left him explained where I was going. I’ll set him right this very moment.” She kneed her horse to trot down the hill, secretly hoping Rylan and Anne would follow. She needed all the support she could get.

  Harold waited at the front of his men as she approached. She’d never seen him wearing a helm before. It didn’t fit properly. He looked ridiculous, especially as he didn’t wear any armor, only a padded aketon. As though sensing her scrutiny, he pulled off the helm as she drew to a halt.

  “I’ve come to rescue you,” he said as he adjusted the quilted coif still covering his head.

  “I’m sorry, but you were misinformed. I’m not in need of rescue.” She lifted her chin, unable to believe he was here.

  “This…knight,” he said as he eyed Rylan, “has overstepped his bounds.” He shifted to address Rylan directly. “I insist you release Lady Kayte and Lady Anne at once.”

  “I’m not holding them,” Rylan replied. “I am merely escorting them to the Convent of Saint Gabriel.”

  Harold scoffed. “That convent is in the opposite direction of where you’re traveling.”

  “He was accompanying us there, but we have decided to take a detour to…” Kayte realized she didn’t know where they were going exactly. She glanced at Rylan in askance.

  “Staverton Keep in Somerset, my father’s holding.”

  “I don’t believe you. Kayte and Anne are obviously being dragged about the countryside by you against their will.”

  “Nay—”

  “Seize him!” Harold demanded as he pointed at Rylan.

  “You will do no such thing,” Kayte argued. But Harold’s men drew up on either side of Rylan with their hands on their swords.

  Harold leaned over to peer around Rylan. “What on earth is in that box?”

  One of his men withdrew a knife and cut the rope binding it to Rylan’s saddle. He lifted the box and brought it closer to Harold.

  “Open it,” the lord demanded.

  “It’s not ours. We are returning it to the convent,” Kayte said. But even as the words came out of her mouth, she realized how terrible this looked.

  “As I already stated, you are not going to the convent but rather leaving it.” Harold’s eyes grew wide as he saw the jeweled box that his man-at-arms unwrapped. “You stole that from the convent!”

  “Nay,” Rylan said. “We came across some men who seem to have stolen it from the convent. ’Tis our intent to return it after we spend Christmas with my family.”

  “Surely you don’t think I believe you.” Harold shook his head as though disgusted.

  “Everything Sir Rylan has told you is true,” Kayte argued, her worry growing. “We will attest to what he said.”

  “I’m certain you’re being forced to do so, therefore I cannot take you at your word. You will all return to Cumberford Keep and we will determine the truth there.”

  “Nay. We will not.” Rylan put his hand on the hilt of his sword but did not draw it.

  “If you wish to return the box to the convent, please do so,” Kayte told Harold. “We have no ill intent, nor did we take it. In fact, we’re not even certain it belongs to there.”

  H
arold merely stared at her. “You are surely lying.”

  As she looked at him, Kayte realized she was no longer afraid of this man. He held no power over her. He couldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Especially not when Rylan was at her side. A weight that had been sitting on her chest lifted. She no longer felt burdened by other people’s expectations of her. How she spent the next few days was up to her, and she wanted to spend them with Rylan and his family celebrating Christmas.

  “May I have a word with you, Harold?” Rather than wait for his agreement, she dismounted, expecting him to do the same.

  “Very well.” He attempted to dismount but had trouble shifting his leg over the horse. One of his men-at-arms stepped forward to assist him.

  She glanced at Rylan to let him know all was well, but he frowned at her as though displeased with her action. While she knew better than to trust Harold, she also knew she had to do this. She had to confront the lord and make him understand she had no desire to marry him and that she had left of her own accord. She should’ve done this before they’d left Cumberford Keep but she’d been too afraid.

  That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous. She’d lived in fear of this man for too long to simply discard it like a blanket she no longer needed.

  She walked a few steps away so they could speak in private. Though Harold didn’t deserve her consideration, she didn’t want to hurt his pride by saying all she wanted to within hearing of his men.

  Harold joined her. “You will—”

  “Nay.” She held up her hand to stop him from saying more. “Sir Rylan was kind enough to escort Anne and I to the convent since he was traveling in that direction. He has just offered for us to spend Christmas with him and his family prior to taking us to the convent.”

  The look of anger in Harold’s eyes had her easing back. “You agreed to marry me.”

  “Nay, I did not. Nor did you ever ask me. You simply assumed I would.” Her stomach danced with nerves as she stared up at him, rage visible in every line of his body. Though she feared he might strike her, she continued, “I will not marry you.”

  “Stupid woman.” He leaned forward. “You have no say in the matter. You’re nothing but chattel.”

  Fear and helplessness poured through her. Wasn’t that always how she’d felt? As if she were nothing more than a piece of property? No more. While the convent was not the ideal place for her, at least it was

  her

  choice. She glanced at Rylan who watched them closely. His presence gave her the courage she needed to finish this.

  “Nay. I am a person with a mind of my own. And I will not marry you. We would not suit anymore than your brother and I suited.” She moved to step away but he caught her arm.

  “If it wasn’t for his dissatisfaction with you, he would’ve remained home. ’Tis your fault he died. But I’ll give you a chance to make that right. I will teach you how to be a proper wife. Rainald failed to do so. Our marriage will set right these past wrongs.”

  Kayte swallowed hard. In truth, Harold was right. She’d had much time to think on the matter and had come to the same conclusion. Rainald had left his home because of her. But his death was not her fault. She would not hold on to guilt because he’d chosen to leave rather than face marriage to her.

  “You will return to Cumberford and marry me.” Spittle flew out of his mouth narrowly missing her, his grip on her arm hurting her.

  She jerked free. “Do not touch me.” She would not back down from this. Not this time. No longer would she be dirt under any man’s boot to be stepped on at his will.

  “You will do as I say or know the consequences.” He grabbed her arm again, this time holding a knife for her to see.

  Though it should’ve frightened her, it only made her angrier. This was the second time in less than a day that a man had threatened her with a knife. She’d had enough.

  * * *

  “Release her!” Rylan demanded. The sight of Kayte once again held at knife point chilled his blood.

  “Seize him!” Harold ordered as he gripped her tighter.

  Rylan’s only thought was to save Kayte. He’d already freed his boots from the stirrups and now kicked the man-at-arms on his left in the chest, sending him flying, then steered his horse into the one on his right, knocking him into another man.

  He drew his sword but used his horse and feet to push back any soldier stupid enough to attempt to stop him. Their horses shied back as he rode forward. Within moments, he held the tip of his sword at Harold’s face. “I said release her.”

  Kayte stomped on Harold’s foot and elbowed him in the ribs, sending him stumbling backward. “Damn you both,” Harold yelled.

  Rylan reached for Kayte to help her up before him. He searched her face to make certain she was well, but immediately sensed his mistake. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harold regain his balance, a determined look on his face. Awareness came over Rylan, and he suddenly knew what Harold would do.

  With one hand still around Kayte, Rylan raised his sword as Harold lunged, knife raised, aiming for Kayte’s back. Rylan sliced through Harold’s raised hand then plunged his sword into Harold’s chest.

  Kayte gasped in horror as she stared at Harold who staggered before falling to the ground.

  Rylan cradled her head into his shoulder, forcing her to look away from Harold’s dying form.

  Harold’s men-at-arms shook their heads in disgust, sharing looks with each other. None seemed surprised by the actions of their new lord. None hurried to aid him.

  Rylan knew no one could help Harold now but God.

  “He—he was going to kill me.” Kayte’s brown eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

  “Aye.” The sight of that was something he’d never forget.

  “How did you know?”

  He shook his head. Perhaps his father had been right. His instincts were stronger than he knew, even if he didn’t have second sight.

  “I had no idea he was capable of something so terrible,” Kayte said even as she burrowed deeper into his arms.

  Rylan held her even tighter, his heart still racing, his mind filled with images of Kayte lying on the ground in a bloody pool instead of Harold. The man’s intent shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, Rainald had killed one of his own men on the battlefield for disobeying him. Had stabbed him in the back, just as Harold had been about to do to Kayte. Apparently bad temper ran in their blood.

  What was a surprise were his feelings for this woman. Never had he felt so protective. Emotion swirled through him and in this moment, he couldn’t imagine ever being able to let her go.

  And he had no idea what to do about it.

  Chapter Ten

  Kayte settled against Rylan on his horse as he tucked his cloak around the pair of them. His warmth seeped through her into her bones. Rylan had suggested she ride with him for a time, and she’d been pleased to do so. She had no desire to leave his arms. Not after the close call they’d had.

  The knight had saved her once again. Even the notion of it filled her eyes with tears.

  They were back on the road, riding toward Rylan’s family’s holding. Joseph led her horse behind his.

  They’d left Harold’s men-at-arms to return his body to his holding and notify his overlord of his death. She still couldn’t believe he’d intended to stab her in the back. Harold had always frightened her, but he’d never hit her. Perhaps the death of his brother had freed something inside him, making him bolder since he no longer had to fear his brother’s wrath.

  “Are you warm enough?” Rylan asked. Hs voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine, but not from the cold.

  Overcome with emotion, she could only nod. How was she ever going to say goodbye to this man? She swallowed hard, trying to gain some semblance of control. As much as she wanted to enjoy Christmas with Rylan, it would be bittersweet because she knew it would end. She did the only thing she could think of to enjoy this moment—snuggle closer. He responded
by dropping a kiss on her hair, making her heart stumble.

  Dusk would soon be upon them, and the weather was worsening. Even now, the thick gray clouds began to spit sleet. As Kayte watched, the sleet changed to big, fat flakes.

  In a short time, the ground was covered as was Rylan’s cloak. She couldn’t help but smile. She’d always loved the snow. The quiet that fell along with the flakes. The feeling of freshness that a blanket of snow provided.

  Behind her, Rylan sighed. “I’m not certain we’ll make it in this weather. We may have to spend Christmas Eve somewhere along the road.”

  “I’m sorry. I know how anxious you are to be home. Is there any way we can continue? The snow doesn’t bother me.”

  “It will once you’re damp. Then you’ll grow cold. As will the horses. There’s a crofter’s cottage on the edge of my father’s holding where we can spend the night. With luck, the weather will improve on the morrow.”

  “Whatever you think will be the safest.” She turned to look back at him. “I trust you to know what’s best.”

  He appeared surprised at her statement.

  “I don’t know why that would surprise you. You’re the most trustworthy person I’ve ever met. Your instincts are exceptional. ’Tis almost as though you have the sight.” She looked at him more closely. “Do you? Have the sight? I’ve heard of such but never met anyone who did.”

  He tipped his head back and laughed.

  The sound reverberated through her chest and made her smile. She’d never heard him laugh like that before. “What did I say that was so amusing?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”

  “Nor can I wait to meet them, but I still don’t understand why you’re laughing.”

  “You’ll understand on the morrow.”

  “I’m sorry we won’t be there for Christmas Eve.” In many ways she was at fault. He was being very kind not to blame her.

  “As am I.” He was quiet for a long moment and she waited, wondering if he’d share what he was thinking. “We will make the best of it. At least we’ll have a roof over our heads this eve.”

  “That will be nice.” Though she had a difficult time imagining any place would feel better than where she was right now.