Page 17 of The Knight’s Reward

Kathryn kept careful watch on Neill’s hands, as well as those of the reivers’ leader. None seemed inclined to raise a sword. Yet. That was good. Her father, who’d trained with the king’s own men, had always told her to run if he reached for the sword at his side. She’d only needed to follow that precaution twice. The first time she’d returned to see the slain body of her father’s adversary—her first time witnessing death. The second time was the only occasion upon which Kathryn had truly feared for her life, with the exception of their final, fateful visit to the Scottish court.

Two men had come upon them that day, not reivers but warriors both, and so she’d obeyed her father’s caution to run. The dagger skills she possessed would do her little good against a sword. After a time, the sound of swordplay faded and Kathryn returned to the road. Thankfully, her father’s injuries had not been fatal, though the other two men had not fared so well. Her papa’s leg had been broken, however, though with her help he’d made it to the closest inn.

The incident had shaken her father enough that he’d sat her down and explained what she should do if he were killed. She’d hated to entertain the possibility, but he had insisted. Kathryn knew where to go at each new place they traveled. But she’d not listened. Instead, she made her way to The Wild Boar, waiting for an opportunity to get back to Scotland. To learn the truth.

After that fateful day . . .

It appeared there would be no quarrel today, however. Neill’s show of strength had been enough to intimidate the men, and he was making his way back to her even now. He mounted in front of her once again, and they watched as the reivers passed. She let out a breath the moment the rough men disappeared from sight.

Once again, they were on their way, as if nothing had happened.

Holding on to Neill’s tunic, his armor hung at the sides of a packhorse nearby, she swallowed hard. He was exactly as his reputation suggested. “The greatest knight” some called him. And though she’d not seen him fight, Kathryn suspected the reivers would not have fared well in a quarrel with Neill Waryn.

She knew she would not fare well either, should he continue asking her questions. The intensity of the man demanded the truth. Thus far, she’d navigated his questions easily enough, remaining, as her father had instructed, as close to the truth as possible.

He turned to look at her, his profile accenting a strong jaw and high cheekbones that no doubt sent the ladies at court aflutter. Having spent time at the court herself, she could well imagine how he was received there. Especially as the champion of the great King’s Tournament, a title she knew he’d once claimed.

“Scottish reivers,” he said, although she’d not asked for an explanation. “On the move earlier than normal.”

Kathryn knew from her time at the inn that reivers typically traveled at night.

“Have you seen many of them, then?” she asked, curious.

He twisted toward her then, giving her a full view of his handsome face.

Aye, the ladies she knew would all have vied for this man, she was sure of it. She took some pleasure in the knowledge that, for the briefest of moments, he was hers.

“Aye. Though it’s been some years since I’ve been home, I grew up in the borderlands.”

She knew his story, in broad strokes. He’d lost his parents to violence too—a not uncommon story for those who lived along the border. His eldest brother later married Lady Sara of Kenshire. His other brother, Bryce, had reclaimed their ancestral home from Clan Kerr, although he’d gone on to marry the chief’s sister. But she’d not ask him to speak of that.

After holding her gaze for a moment longer, Neill finally turned back around. Kathryn loosened her grip around him, realizing belatedly she’d tightened it as he spoke.

“I’ve not met your brothers, but I did see them pass through the inn. Magge spoke highly of them.”

Even though she could only see the side of his face, Kathryn saw enough to know his smile transformed his face. It was hardly fair for a man to be so handsome.

“I’ve a sister too. Emma.”

Kathryn knew all about her. Everyone along the border did. She had married the Earl of Clave, a powerful man on both sides of the border.

“All along the border know your family’s story,” she acknowledged.

“I suppose they would. ’Tis quite a tale, enemies becoming family.”

Kathryn had never really thought of it that way before. There was a certain beauty to the statement.

“So you truly hold no grudge against Clan Kerr?” Then, realizing the question was rude, especially since she did not intend to share her history with him, she said, “I’m sorry. I did not mean to overstep.”

“And you did not.”

He stopped then, the men riding up behind them. “We will stop here?” he called back to the others.

The man called Aylmer, who was clearly wary of her, nodded. “Aye, my lord.”

Neill stiffened. She’d not have noticed if her arms were not still wrapped around his waist. She remedied that now that they were stopped.

“I will answer your question tonight.” He dismounted and held a hand up to her. “Provided you answer one of mine as well.”