Scotland, Spring 1282
“Where ye going, lassie?”
He flashed a toothless grin and leaned forward over his horse’s neck. Stringy hair hung from beneath his helmet and dirt clung to his face.
Kaitlin Wakefield wrinkled her nose and gasped for air as his stench drifted towards her. She glanced down at his hand gripping her horse’s reins and preventing her from bolting.
“I was traveling to my grandmother’s.” She sat up straight in her saddle and clutched the reins until her knuckles turned white.
“Did ye hear that men? She is looking for her grandmother on our Laird’s land.” Her captor threw back his head. His boisterous laugh rent the air and penetrated her soul.
The other men joined in his laughter as they surrounded her.
“Unless Laird Nicholas Rothirforde is your grandmother, ye are going the wrong way.”
She felt her face redden. “Let go of my horse so I can continue on my way.” She yanked the reins from his grasp.
“A quick-tempered lassie. Ye shouldna be making demands. Ye are a wee bit outnumbered. I shall tell ye what ye will do. Because ye are trespassing on my laird’s land, ye will be traveling with us to Castile Manor. Laird Nicholas de Rothirforde will be deciding your fate.”
In a crazy mixture of hope and fear, she considered fleeing, but that thought vanished when the men closed in around her.
* * *
Kaitlin paced within the tower room where Laird Nicholas had locked her without an explanation. He should have sent her back to Wakefield Manor once he had learned her identity. Was not her father’s reprisal foremost in his mind?
Anger coursed through her. The Rothirfordes had tried her family’s patience more times than she could remember. She would tell the Rothirforde laird what she thought about his false accusations against her father. How dare he believe her father capable of killing the first laird of Castile Manor—Laird Gregory of Rothirforde!
She stopped her pacing to stare at the bailey through the arrow loop. Her situation was nobody’s fault but her own. She should have waited until her father could accompany her on the morrow, but she believed she could make it on her own. Her father’s scoldings echoed in her ears: You never listen to me. How many times must I tell you not to go outside the confines of the castle walls by yourself? Until now, his reprimands had proven worse than the danger he had professed.
She returned to her pacing only to run into the edge of the lone table adorning the room. From the table she snatched the earthenware mug balancing precariously on its edge and examined it. The laird’s crest was brazed on its side just as the hatred for the Rothirfordes was instilled in her mind. She hurled the mug at the door. Water and bits of pottery flew everywhere as the key clicked in the door lock.
“Are you not appreciative of my generosity?” Laird Nicholas almost filled the doorway. He had secured his black hair in a ponytail with a leather band. The dark figure of a man, big and powerful, stepped over a few pieces of pottery while others cracked under his feet. His mouth thinned with displeasure before pushing the final piece of earthenware with the toe of his boot.
“What generosity?” The lively twinkle in his green eyes and the Rothirforde arrogance only incensed her more. How dare he make light of her circumstances? “I was kidnapped, brought here to Castile Manor, and locked in this tower room. My father will begin his search upon your holdings if I do not arrive at my grandmother’s. Do you not fear my father?”
“Nae, for you have done wrong. He will not risk his daughter’s life for an attack upon my lands. And if he should be as foolish to attack under the dark of night, my men-at-arms will stand again’ him. ‘Tis his anger again’ you that will be raised when he learns of your misdeed. Your fear of his response, not mine, should beat rapidly in your chest.”
She visualized her father’s expression. The laird was right. She did not want to disappoint her father. Her father’s reaction mattered more than anything the laird could say or do. She needed to go home—now.
“What are your plans for me?” Kaitlin snapped.
“I had considered returning you to your father, but I changed my mind after seeing your destructive behavior. He will be sent notice of your whereabouts, but I shall inform him that he must allow you to fulfill your punishment without interfering.”
“How dare you make demands upon my father!” She glared at him as she blew away some tendrils that had fallen across her face. She was glad he could not hear her heart beating furiously against her chest.
“I dare because you trespassed on my land. ‘Tis enough your brother and his companions steal my cattle, but now they send you to search for the cattle to steal,” he retorted. His eyes darkened.
“If you are talking about my brother, Andrew, he did not steal your cattle. We have our own cattle and have no desire to steal yours.”
“Andrew, Phillip, or Matthew. Matters not. Some cattle are missing, and your father is responsible along with all your younger brothers.”
“How do you know my brothers’ names?” She approached him within an arm’s length and rested her fists on her hips.
“I know almost everything about Baron William Wakefield and his progeny.” He stared down into her face, his expression bordering on mockery. “You forget they battled each other before you were born, and I was but a wee lad.”
“How can I forget? My father is burdened by your false claim upon his honor,” Kaitlin debated, never moving from her stance.
“’Tis no false claim. My father’s demise came at Baron Wakefield’s hands.” He showed no signs of relenting.
“I do not believe you.”
“Believe any story you wish, but after their meeting near the borders, mine was killed returning to Castile Manor. Wakefield may not have released the arrow, but he made sure someone did.”
“He denies knowing anything about it.” She recognized the defiance in her voice.
“Wakefield would never admit to murder.”
“Is that why you continue to battle us?”
“That and the fact you are thieves. Your father stole my father’s life, and I vow to make his life as miserable as ever.”
“So you kidnapped me?”
“’Tis impossible to kidnap a trespasser. I shall not talk about this anymore.”
He turned away from her and walked towards the door. “You will stay in this tower until I decide your punishment. Someone shall bring food for you.”
After he opened the door, Nicholas looked back over his shoulder with an icy stare.
She felt her anger rise in response to his arrogance and folded her arms across her chest. Saying anything would only make him angrier. But she was determined he would not win. No amount of punishment would break her Wakefield pride.
* * *
“Da, Da.” Kylee slid awkwardly from her grandmother’s lap and landed on her bottom before crawling to her father. She stopped in front of him, sat upright, and held up her arms.
Aidan de Rothirforde of Asberry Castle bent over, brought her up to his level, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“Hello, beautiful.” He placed her back on the floor with the wooden blocks and her favorite doll.
Eilis rubbed her swollen and gnarled fingers, rose slowly from the chair, and shuffled towards them. A grimace marked every measured step. Watching her walk, Aidan cringed and again forced himself to broach the subject of finding another caretaker. She had dismissed previous conversations with a grunt and a wave of her hand.
“I have spoken with my brother, Nicholas, about procuring someone to help care for Kylee.”
“Nae, I shall not have it,” Eilis responded, a flash of hurt in her eyes.
“’Twill be another to do the running so you could be more attentive on Kylee’s needs.” Aidan placed his hand on her arm.
“Lesley would not approve of a stranger caring for her daughter.”
The memory of the apparition he saw the night of his wife’s death brought back the helpless feeling he continued to experience since Lesley took her last breath. He looked upon the haggard woman who had cared for Kylee since the birth. He would be eternally grateful, but time battled her body and senses.
“She is a handful. When she begins walking, what will you do?”
“Confine her in the nursery” Eilis insisted.
“That is unreasonable.” He sighed. “See how she enjoys crawling around?”
Aidan pointed to where Kylee should have been sitting. His heart leaped to his throat followed by a deep intake of breath. The babe had disappeared. Only her giggle from the hallway alerted him to her whereabouts. Bolting out the nursery door, Aidan was relieved when he discovered her staring and laughing at the sunlight on the wall and sitting within inches of the stairway. The breath he had been holding rushed from his lungs.
He stilled his shaking hands and grabbed her from the stone floor. Clutching her close to him—once again he heard Lesley’s words, “Please care for our little girl, Aidan,” just before the sunlight vanished.
Eilis emerged from the nursery. Her eyes, wide with fright, stared at the pair in front of her.
“Was she harmed?”
“Nae. But I shall do what is best for her. It does not matter what you want. I should have made this decision earlier, but I was concerned for your feelings. Now I must be concerned for her life.” He strode past Eilis to return Kylee to the nursery.
* * *
Aidan recognized his brother’s messenger riding beneath the portcullis as he stood in the inner bailey and talked to Olan, his overseer. Concerned Wakefield had mounted an attack on his brother, he rushed to the messenger to hear the news. Aidan secured the reins of the horse and steadied the anxious stallion.
“Bad news, I fear.”
“Nae, your brother sent me with the message that he found someone to help care for your daughter.”
“Do you know this person’s identity?”
“Nae. Laird Nicholas told me nothing.”
“’Tis kind of him to make the matter his concern, but I do not have time to leave Asberry Castle. I have rye and other crops to plant.”
“He expects ye at Castile Manor in two days.”
Aidan frowned and rolled his eyes. Through clinched teeth, “Tell him I shall be there, but I will not be pleased if I have wasted my time.”
The messenger nodded and kicked his horse into a fast gallop.
Olan stood where Aidan had left him. “Trouble, Laird Aidan?”
“Nae, Olan. My brother believes I can halt what I do and ride to Castile Manor to meet a lass he believes can help with the care of Kylee. I despise disruptions. ‘Twould be a different matter if the Sassenach had crossed unto his lands or a Wakefield had stolen more of his cattle. But nae, he believes I have nothing to do. Notwithstanding the crops that must be planted, we need to finish the tower on the northeast corner.”
Aidan took a deep breath, looked upon Olan’s reassuring expression, before listing everything else requiring his immediate attention.
“’Twill be finished, Laird.” Olan managed to say when Aidan stopped to take another breath.
“Aye, it will, but I do not need another person to worry about.”
“Mayhap Eilis would—”
“My problem is Eilis. She swears no one will care for her granddaughter.” Aidan paced in front of Olan. “’Tis not going to be easy telling her.”
“Do not tell her,” Olan suggested.
“T’is impossible to keep secret forever. She will know I depart for Nicholas’s. And if by chance she doesn’t know when I leave, she will notice someone new when I return.” He stared towards the castle. “I shall inform her when I return. No need causing an additional problem before I must.”
“When will ye leave?”
“On the morrow before the sun rises above the trees. Thanks for the counsel. I can always depend upon you to help me make my decisions.”
Olan slowly shook his head. “Very well, Laird Aidan. The villeins shall start the planting this afternoon.”
Aidan thought about his brother’s message. What could his brother have planned for him now? Nicholas enjoyed surprising him and creating mayhem in his life. Uncertainty crept into his mind, and ever fiber in his body warned him that his journey would be far from ordinary.
* * *
Nearing Castile Manor, Aidan heard a yell to lower the drawbridge and raise the portcullis. Nicholas ran from the stables and met him at the top step of the keep.
“Please join me by the hearth.” Nicholas escorted him through the castle door. “I shall have some cider brought for you.” His brother put his arm around him. “You must be thirsty.”
“Cut the pleasantries.” Aidan turned to face him after shrugging off his brother’s arm. “I have neither the time nor desire. Where is this lass you sent word about?”
“She is locked in the tower.”
“Locked in the tower? Is she mad? A thief? You sent for me so you could unload this undesirable to care for Kylee?”
“‘Tis not what you think. She is—”
“At least I am thinking!” Aidan’s voice rose in volume. “You must have rocks for brains. I shall not allow my child near a mad woman who needs to be locked in a tower.”
“She is not mad but my prisoner.”
“You are the one who is mad. Nae. I do not want your help. I shall find my own caretaker.” Aidan turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
“Wait, Aidan. Her name is Kaitlin, and my men caught her trespassing. Meet the girl before you pass judgment.”
“Och.” He threw his arms in the air, walked within inches of his brother, and stared into his eyes. “You are my laird, and I have always abided by your word. If I find her lacking, she will not be leaving with me.”
Nicholas nodded before quitting the hall.
Aidan paced around the great hall awaiting his brother’s return. He stopped in front of the tapestry embroidered with the Rothirforde crest of a bird facing to the left and the familiar words beneath the bird etched in his mind: Nec sorte nec fato: Neither by chance nor fate. He reached out to touch the tapestry as he had done so many times. At the sound of footfalls coming from the entranceway, he jerked his hand back to his side. He faced his brother and raised his eyebrows at seeing him alone.
“Adriana will escort her to meet you in a few minutes. She does not take kindly to me.”
“Neither would I if I had been locked in a tower.”
“She should be locked in the tower after throwing a mug filled with water at the door.”
“’Tis no wonder you wish to send her to Asberry Castle.”
“’Twas Adriana’s idea to have her help care for Kylee. She acted in the same manner when we first met.”
“If you dare to say I will eventually marry this lass, you are wrong. I do not care to marry again.”
“Time may say to the contrary, my brother,” Nicholas reminded him. “I noticed your looking at our crest.”
“Brings back childhood memories.” Aidan relaxed his stance as he turned to face the tapestry again. “I would stand here many times looking at it. Father held my hand while telling me stories of our ancestors. I asked him over a hundred times to read those words to me. I miss him.”
“As do I.”
“Have you seen Mother and her husband lately?”
“Nae, Keir makes sure she has nae time for us.”
“I still become angry when I think of the differences in our lives since Wakefield killed Father.”
“He did not kill your father,” came the adamant voice from the entrance to the great hall. Aidan, absorbed in the conversation, had failed to hear anyone arrive.
“And who are you to know about my father’s murder?” He whirled to face her; anger rippled along his spine.
“This is Kaitlin, the young lass I told you about,” Nicholas answered before she had a chance to speak.
Aidan’s breathing quickened. His eyes narrowed to stare at the young woman standing straight with her hands clenched in fists by her side. She was beautiful. A single, gold ribbon adorned the braid of her waist—length auburn hair. Her ample bosom and shapely hips accentuated her slender waist. The sun had kissed her flawless skin. Defiance shone in her golden eyes. The nostrils on her small, upturned nose flared with each breath she took. Her cheekbones were high and regal, and those coral colored lips…just right for kissing. The first warning of her having another effect on him occurred with the tightening in his groin – an effect he found difficult controlling.
“I want to hear her talk, not you.” Aidan turned his anger on Nicholas.
“Kaitlin, talk.” Nicholas backed away from the couple.
“I have nothing to say.” She folded her arms over her chest and frowned.
“You spoke earlier about my father’s murder; why not now?” Aidan’s voice rose in volume. He heard his heart pounding in his ears and felt his jaw tighten.
“Because I answer no one who yells at me. I can hear.”
Aidan strode towards her but had to sidestep his brother who had moved to stop him. Aidan walked within inches of her, stopped, and stood with his legs apart and arms crossed.
“I am not yelling at the moment. What do you know about my father’s murder?”
If he had not quieted his voice, the sweet aroma from her hair and body would have eased his temper. He had not been this close to a desirable young woman in a year, and he found her effect on him unnerving. His mind and body tormented him with their mixed emotions.
Kaitlin stepped back to look up into his sparkling, green eyes. He stood a full head and a half taller than she did. His black, wavy hair fell upon a crimson tunic covering his remarkably wide shoulders. His features were noble—his jaw chiseled and his chin slightly cleft. Two small indentations appeared in his cheeks. She allowed her gaze to roam below the knee—length tunic where trews covered muscular legs. His sword hung from its belt on his left side. She again focused upon eyes that mesmerized her before she quietly replied, “I know Baron William Wakefield did not kill your father.”
“You are too young to know this,” he whispered. “What gives you this firsthand knowledge?”
“Because my father is Baron William Wakefield, and he is not a murderer.” She struggled to maintain an even, controlled tone.
“Is this another one of your pranks, Nicholas?” Aidan shot his brother a glance and moved towards him. ”Did you believe I would allow a Wakefield to care for my precious daughter? I told you I would go home without her if I found her lacking. I shall be leaving alone.”
“Do not be hasty in your decision. You have been fortunate Eilis has not allowed harm to come to Kylee. With Eilis growing older, what other choices do you have?”
“Few, but look at her. She is a Wakefield, a trespasser. She does not do what she is told. And you say her temper is terrible.”
“You should know about temper. Give her a chance. What do you have to lose?”
“My daughter.” Aidan answered quietly, his expression softened.
Kaitlin felt something pull at her heart. His reply made her want to reach out to him.
“Enough. I am not chattel,” she responded, irked by his assessment of her. “Mayhap I care not to go.”
“You were trespassing,” Nicholas admonished, impatience in his voice, “and you must pay for that crime. In Scotland, you will pay by my law. Since you wanted to be on Rothirforde lands, you will stay for one month with my brother to help care for Kylee. And Aidan, you will do as I say. As liege lord, I make the final decision upon what will happen to her. Does not matter to me who objects. The month shall give you a chance to find another.”
Both of them stared at Nicholas before turning their gaze upon each other. The determination she saw in his face mirrored hers.