Not Mine to Give Page 5

  Duncan shook his head.

  Ian fisted his hand around the hilt of his sword and shifted atop his horse. “I should have been here. I fear peace between England and Scotland is impossible now. England’s greed and Scotland’s refusal to submit will forever cause unrest.”

  Duncan tightened the grip on his reins. “We will never submit. Not as long as there is breath left in one Scotsman. Not even our king can make it happen.”

  “Aye. But it’s not for want of trying. England’s King Edward has made more than one attempt to bridge the chasm between our countries. He ordered the Earl of Wentworth to give one of his daughters to William Bolton to marry, and the other daughter to a Scottish laird in hopes that peace would reign along the border. That’s how I came to marry my English bride.”

  Duncan stared at his friend in disbelief. “You were forced to marry the English lass?”

  “It was an edict by our king. Robert thought it would be best if at least one of the English lords bordering us had friendly ties to Scotland.”

  Duncan’s eyes closed to narrow slits. “That means you would have ties to William Bolton.”

  “Aye. I daresay if the earl would have had one more daughter, you too would have been commanded to take an English bride.”

  “I would never take an English bride.”

  Duncan stared at his friend and the look in Ian’s eyes told him he would change his mind if his king commanded it. Duncan knew differently. “You did na come back to find your family slaughtered as did I. Ferguson blood will never mix with that of the cursed English after they murdered my family.”

  “Even for the peace of Scotland?”

  “Nay. Na even for Scotland.”

  A smile lifted the corners of his friend’s mouth. “I do na mind telling you I do na regret the choice made for me. I have come to love my Elizabeth. She may be meek and lacking strength, but there is enough love inside her that I will never drink my fill.”

  Duncan stared at his friend in confusion. Did Ian not know his wife? Duncan would never use the term meek to describe her. Neither did he think her lacking in strength.

  “From the day Elizabeth took my name, she has been a Scot.”

  Duncan swallowed hard. Elizabeth. That was her name.

  “Your wife, Ian, was verra brave and verra courageous. She stood up to Bolton as well as any warrior.”

  The expression on Ian’s face turned deadly. “Where was Chalmers?”

  “Dead. He and most of the men you had left behind were killed in a raid some months past. There was no one to protect your home and Bolton took over without a fight.”

  “What did he want? What did he think we had?”

  “He came for the crown. When Bolton attacked my family, our priest brought it here to Lady MacIntyre for safe keeping.”

  The look on Ian’s face was stark. “Is the crown still here?”

  “I do na know. Your wife will not admit that she has it.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “Bolton tried to make her tell him where the crown was hidden.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed and the muscles in his jaw bunched. “Was my wife harmed?”

  “Aye. But she is well now.”

  “And the babe?”

  Duncan’s heart slammed in his chest. There was naught he could say. By the saints, he didn’t know she’d lost a babe. “There is na babe, Ian.”

  Ian lifted an agonizing frown toward the heavens and clenched his fist around the hilt of his sword. He took one deep breath after another until a low, keening moan echoed into the clear Scottish air.

  Without another word, Ian turned his mount and raced toward Kilgern Castle. Duncan followed at his side. When they reached the inner courtyard the two lairds jumped to the ground and ran to the steps leading to the keep’s entrance.

  “Elizabeth!”

  Duncan heard the fear in his friend’s voice and a stronger wave of guilt slashed through his gut. How could Ian’s wife have kissed him like she had? And let him hold her in the night? And touched his face with such tenderness? Did she have no heart? Didn’t she know how much her husband loved her?

  “Milord! Milord!” Eloise ran through the doorway and collided with Ian, stopping him in his tracks. “She’s gone. The mistress is gone.”

  Ian stared down on her as if the woman had lost her mind. “Lady Elizabeth is gone?”

  “Aye. I went to her chamber to tell her you were here and her chamber is empty. I have searched the keep and she is na here. Just like before. She’s disappeared.”

  “Like before? What does she mean, Duncan?”

  Duncan didn’t take time to answer. He raced ahead of Ian and ran up the stairs two at a time. Her chamber was empty.

  “There’s a passageway leading from this room,” Duncan said. Do you know…”

  He didn’t get his question uttered before Ian raced in front of him and pushed against the side of a large wooden chest. The chest moved, revealing the entrance to a stone tunnel. Ian grabbed the torch from the wall beside the entryway and didn’t stop running until he reached daylight.

  “She’s gone to the cottage. It’s nearest the tunnel. I showed Elizabeth how to reach it should she ever need to escape the castle.”

  Duncan ran with Ian across the narrow meadow, thick with heather and tiny yellow wild flowers, then through a dense grove of trees, around a small pond, and straight toward a tall stone wall. Duncan thought they could go no farther but Ian stopped, then walked through a wide recess in the rocks. The door to a hut was carved of wood and stood as a barrier from those outside. If Ian hadn’t led the way, Duncan wouldn’t have seen the hidden fortress.

  Ian reached for the latch and lifted. He threw the door open with a loud crash and stormed into the room as if he were overtaking the keep of a warring clan.

  When the door flew open, she spun around, then hugged her arms around her waist as a startled cry escaped her lips. The look of fright on her face was unmistakable. Even after she realized she was in no danger, she was not quick enough to erase the confusion in her gaze. Duncan watched, but saw no heartfelt yearning; no gaze of longing; no look of wifely love for a husband long absent.

  “Where is she? Where is Elizabeth?”

  Duncan stared at his friend in disbelief. What was wrong with him? This was the Lady MacIntyre. The lass with hair of burnished gold and eyes of liquid blue that Ian had talked of every day and every night while he and Duncan had battled the English. The lass who had begged Duncan for a kiss, then given him the Ferguson medallion. The lass who had answered to the MacIntyre name just before Bolton flayed her body with his whip.

  “Where is my wife, Katherine?” Ian MacIntyre’s voice roared with emotion.

  The door to a small chamber opened and a second lass with hair of burnished gold, and eyes as blue as the North Sea stepped into the room. She was a twin to the English woman Duncan believed to be Ian’s wife. A twin so close in looks Duncan did not doubt that no one realized she was not Ian’s wife.

  Ian’s wife looked at her husband and covered her mouth to stop a tiny scream, then ran with outstretched arms into his waiting embrace.

  Tears of joy flowed down her cheek as she wrapped her arms around Ian’s neck and lifted her face to receive his mouth. He kissed her with a passion that said he either didn’t remember he had an audience, or he didn’t care.

  “Are you well?”

  “Yes. Katherine took good care of us.”

  Ian turned around to look at his wife’s sister. “Thank you, Katherine. I am forever in your debt.”

  Duncan looked at the woman. She fisted her hands at her side and blinked back the emotion that glazed her eyes.

  “You should have seen Katherine, Ian. When she heard Bolton was coming with his men, she gathered what we needed to hide here. When she was sure we were safe, she went back to the castle and passed herself off as the wife of the laird of clan MacIntyre. She told the servants she had sent your son with her sister to the convent to keep hi
m safe and not one of them realized she was not me.”

  “You have taken care of my wife well, milady.”

  Katherine nodded, then looked away from everyone’s concentrated gaze. Duncan noticed her small body sag against the wall. He wanted to go to her but he stopped himself.

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and laid her head against his chest. “Katherine has always taken care of me, Ian. It’s in her nature. Not once was I afraid. I knew she would keep us safe.”

  Duncan looked at Katherine’s face. Katherine. Why hadn’t she told him? Why hadn’t she trusted him enough to confide in him? To let him care for her sister until Ian returned? He pushed down the anger that wanted to build within him. All she would have had to do was ask. All she would have had to do was trust him.

  He didn’t turn away from her and the blush on her cheeks deepened. She braved a look at him one time, but quickly lowered her gaze as if she knew he wanted answers she wasn’t ready to give.

  “Did Bolton harm you, Elizabeth?” Ian asked.

  “No. I was safe here in the cottage.” A frown covered Elizabeth’s face and she turned her gaze to her twin. “Did Bolton harm you, Katherine? He’s an evil man. We will talk to father. Neither Ian nor myself will allow you to—”

  “No, Elizabeth. I am fine.”

  Her answer came out swift and easy and Duncan turned his gaze back to her. Again, she refused to look at him.

  “Once father hears how evil Lord Bolton is, it won’t matter if the command came from Edward himself, he will never force you to—”

  “Elizabeth,” Katherine said, rushing to interrupt her sister. “I’m sure your husband is anxious to see his son.”

  Whatever Katherine’s twin was about to say died on her lips. Elizabeth’s face brightened and she ran to the small chamber. When she returned, she handed Ian MacIntyre a wiggling bundle, then stepped back while her husband looked at his son for the first time.

  Duncan had never seen such a look of pride as was on Ian’s face. The breath caught in his throat when he noticed the wetness in his friend’s eyes.

  “Look, Duncan. See how strong he is already?” The babe had a grip on Ian’s finger and would not release it. “He’s sure to be one of Scotland’s finest warriors.”

  “He will be one of Scotland’s finest peacemakers,” Elizabeth said with the voice of authority. “He will find a way for the Scots and the English to live side by side without war.”

  “I pray you are right, wife.” Ian placed his son in one arm and wrapped the other arm around his wife’s shoulder. “I pray you are right.”

  “I will not let William Bolton marry Katherine, Ian. We cannot give her over to such an evil man.”

  Duncan’s gaze shot to Katherine. Her face had turned deathly pale. A cold hand gripped his heart. “This is the sister betrothed to William Bolton? This is the sister your king would force to marry that bastard?”

  Ian answered. “Aye.”

  Duncan turned his glare back to the woman who had already felt the sting of Bolton’s whip. “You would marry him? You would marry such a man, knowing what he’s capable of doing?”

  Elizabeth stepped out of Ian’s embrace and faced her sister. “Did Bolton harm you, Katherine?”

  Katherine shot Duncan a harsh glance. A glance that told Duncan he didn’t understand. That he’d stepped over his bounds. That his words were only upsetting Elizabeth, and Katherine would not have it.

  Elizabeth’s hands flew to her mouth. “Dear Lord. He did.”

  The look in Katherine’s eyes turned hostile.

  “Are you all right, Katherine?” There was panic in Elizabeth’s voice. “Oh, no. That’s why you didn’t come to see me for weeks at a time.” Elizabeth turned back to her husband, the frantic look in her eyes edged with despair. “Ian, we cannot let this happen. We cannot let—”

  “Stop it!” Katherine turned on her sister, the determined look of resolve strong. “There’s nothing you can do to stop the marriage, Elizabeth. It’s an edict from our king. Do you know what would happen to father if I went against our king’s command?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You cannot marry such an evil man, Katherine. You cannot.”

  “It’s too late to stop it.”

  “Ian?” Elizabeth looked at her husband with a pleading look in her eyes.

  “I’ll give you refuge, Katherine.”

  Katherine closed her eyes and shook her head. “It would do no good. I would only endanger everyone here if I stayed.”

  Katherine walked to the arrow slit that let a single ray of sunshine into the room and stood where the sun lit her hair and skin. “Father is one of the king’s closest advisors. He’s a very important man in England. That makes me special to Bolton. I’m a trophy to him. A prize. He collects what he thinks has great value.” She turned to face them. “He wants me for the same reason he wants the Bishop’s Crown. He thinks it will give him power.”

  “But we can—”

  “You can do nothing without sacrificing the lives of hundreds of innocent people. I’ll handle this problem on my own.”

  No one spoke. Tiny tears streamed down Ian MacIntyre’s wife’s cheeks, but even she realized the futility of her sister’s plight. It was an edict of the King of England, and it could not be ignored. There was nothing for either of them to do.

  “Is there a priest in residence at Kilgern?” Duncan’s voice broke through the silence. It was soft and harsh and determined and unyielding.

  “Aye,” Ian answered. “There is a priest.”

  “Find him.”

  Chapter 4

  “No!”

  Katherine spun around and glared at the huge Scot, hoping that when she looked into his eyes she would not see what she feared. The look was there. So was his determined stance. He stood with his thick, muscled legs braced far apart as if ready to do battle. The cords in his arms bulged as he clasped his hands behind his back, stretching his already too broad shoulders to an unbelievable width. Not one inch of him gave an impression that he would yield.

  Katherine shifted her gaze to Ian’s face. His hard glare told her nothing — nothing other than that he understood the reason for Duncan’s request and would support his friend’s decision, even if he did not agree with it.

  “Get yourself ready, milady,” Duncan issued again.

  “I will not. I will never agree to this.”

  “Agree to what, Katherine?” Elizabeth took a step closer to her husband. “Why do we need the priest?”

  “We don’t need a priest,” Katherine reassured her.

  Duncan took another step closer. “It would be best if you would na argue, milady.”

  “You cannot do this, Lord Ferguson.” Katherine fisted her hands at her sides. “I will not allow it.”

  Duncan arched his brows. It was a look with which she was already quite familiar. A look usually followed by the rising of his temper.

  “You will na allow it?”

  “I will not allow it.”

  “Ian,” Duncan ordered. “Get the priest.”

  “Why do we need the priest, Ian? No one has died, have they?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Not yet, wife.”

  Katherine gave Duncan an icy glare. It didn’t seem to intimidate him in the least. She would try a different approach. She would reason with him. “Lord Ferguson.”

  “You will call me Duncan.”

  She focused her gaze on him again, a feat not entirely easy given his enormous height and the fact that he had taken several steps toward her. She lifted her chin to focus on his face. “Lord Ferguson.”

  His right eyebrow spiked high above the black hues of his eyes. She didn’t give him time to speak. “You cannot mean to do this.”

  “You will na be given a choice, Katherine. It will do na good to argue.”

  “Do you know what will happen if you go through with this ridiculous plan of yours? Every Ferguson in Scotland will pay for your foolishness, plus every Scot
that gets in Bolton’s way.”

  “It’s already too late. It was too late the moment Bolton attacked Lochmore Castle and killed its laird and his family. Bolton is already an enemy of every Ferguson in Scotland. There is na one of them who will na gladly give his life to see Bolton die.”

  “But how many of them will give their lives to protect his betrothed? An English woman.”

  “They will if you belong to me.”

  “Katherine cannot belong to you, Lord Ferguson,” Elizabeth interrupted. “She is betrothed to William Bolton.”

  “Quiet, lass,” Ian whispered, placing his hand around his wife’s shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

  “But the king has ordered it,” Elizabeth argued.

  “I do na think Duncan cares much what your king has ordered,” Ian countered.

  “Your husband is right, milady,” Duncan answered, never once dropping his gaze from Katherine’s face. “Your king’s edict means naught to me.”

  “But it means much to me, my lord.” Katherine’s voice trembled with emotion. She couldn’t believe he was serious about making her his wife. She had already decided what she would do when she was well enough to leave Kilgern Castle.

  She did not plan to become William Bolton’s wife. She had made that decision when Bolton had flayed her back with his whip. She would live out her days in a convent rather than marry such an animal. “If I choose not to follow my king’s order to marry, it will be my decision, and my decision alone to disobey him. No one else will pay the consequences for what I do.”

  “What happens to William Bolton is na longer any concern of yours, milady. His fate was sealed when he stepped foot on Ferguson land. All you need concern yourself with is becoming my wife.”

  “It will not happen, my lord.”

  “It will happen. You will marry me.”

  “Why?”

  The room hushed to a deafening silence. Not even the baby dared to whimper. Katherine stared at Duncan. She watched the muscles in his jaw tighten and bunch, dared him to speak the truth. “I would ask you why you wish to marry me, my lord? Is it because you have had a change of heart and now find the English less loathsome? Is taking an English wife now a less bitter draught to swallow than it was before you found out I was William Bolton’s betrothed?”