The Promise of Peace (29 page)

Aye, he wanted her. If she would still have him.

KEIFER AWAKENED THE NEXT MORNING and felt even better. To his disappointment, once again Lady Kathryn came to tend to him, not Nola. He was anxious to heal the rift with Nola, but how long would it be until she came to him?

As Kathryn picked up Keifer's dishes, he asked, “Is Nola still at Homelea?”

“Aye, she is. She asks after you, you know.”

His heart gladdened with hope. “But she doesn't come to see me.”

“Why would she? You made your wishes perfectly clear.”

And he had. Maybe too clear. Perhaps he must be the one to bend.

Lady Kathryn studied him. “I think it possible you will regain some use of your legs, Keifer.”

“God willing, my lady.”

She smiled. “Shall I send Nola to you?”

He made up his mind. It was time to get on with his life, accept things as they were, just as Will had said. With God's help and Nola's love, he would face the future. “I would like to wash and shave first.”

She smiled. “May I send Owyn to tend to you?”

Another rift he needed to mend. “Aye. Send him.”

“As you wish.”

Owyn arrived a few minutes later. He did not close the door when he entered the room, as if leaving himself a quick retreat. “Lady Kathryn said ye wanted to see me.” Owyn sounded almost fearful. But then his squire had taken the brunt of Keifer's anger and self-pity.

“I want to sit in the chair today, Owyn.”

“Ye do?” He sounded hopeful, relieved. “Did Lady Kathryn say ye could?”

“She didn't say I couldn't. I want to bathe and shave and sit in a chair to see my wife.”

Owyn closed the door and walked forward. “Do ye trust me to shave ye?” Owyn's expression remained neutral but his voice sounded anxious.

“I do, Owyn.”

Their gazes met. Owyn must have seen Keifer's sincerity because his smile nearly split his face. “That's better, my laird. 'Tis a start, indeed.”

When Keifer was clean and dry and safely shaved, he pulled a shirt over his head. With Owyn's help, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. They decided he should kilt a plaid about his hips instead of struggling to pull on breeches.

It took some maneuvering and more than a few twinges of pain in his back, but they finally managed it. Keifer was sweating by the time Owyn pulled the extra material up over his shoulder and attached it with a decorative pin.

Owyn held up his boots and Keifer shook his head. “There's a limit to my strength, Owyn. I'll have to settle for warm stockings.”

“Of course.” He found a pair in Keifer's trunk and helped pull them on.

Keifer looked down at his clothing with approval. He was ready to meet Nola. “You can't carry me to the chair, Owyn. I outweigh you by nearly two stone.”

“Right. I'll get us some help.”

Owyn returned in a few minutes with Will.

Keifer scowled, but Will had been the catalyst for Keifer's coming to grips with his situation. He owed the man.

Will stood with his hands on his hips. “So, you've decided to live.”

Their gazes locked. “Aye. If you won't take care of Nola, what choice do I have?”

Will raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure it will be a burden.”

They looked at each other, silently acknowledging a favor received and gratitude given in return.

“Well, let's get me in the chair.”

“Wait,” Owyn cried. He grabbed a pillow off the bed and placed it on the wooden chair.

“Good idea. Thank you.”

Then Will and Owyn picked him up and carried him to the chair.

In the scuffle of getting him settled, someone accidentally stepped on his stocking-covered toes.

“Ouch! Get off my foot!”

Will and Owyn both jumped back and started accusing each other of being clumsy.

Keifer watched them argue, and all he could do was grin.

Owyn and Will stopped mid-sentence. Owyn recovered first. “Ye felt it?”

Keifer nodded.

“You felt it!” Will shouted.

Keifer reached down and touched his foot, touched them both.

The sensitivity had returned to the bottoms of his feet as well. He could not make his feet or toes move, but he had to believe this was a good sign.

“Don't tell Nola,” Keifer said. He wanted to surprise her.

“Not a word.” The two promised and went to find Nola.

TWENTY

N
O MATTER WHAT KEIFER SAID, Nola wasn't leaving. Whatever the future held, she was determined to face it at Keifer's side. Nothing he could say would change her mind.

Now to convince him.

He answered her tentative knock with a gruff “Enter.”

Nola opened the door and stepped inside, peering at an empty bed. She raced around the foot of the bed, afraid she would find he'd fallen out and lay helpless on the floor.

But Keifer wasn't there, and panic surged through her. She spun about, searching the room until she saw him, seated in a chair, dressed and looking handsome and whole, if somewhat pale. This must be what Owyn and Will had been grinning about when they came to deliver Keifer's summons. And aye, what a wonderful sight!

Nola stared until he indicated she should sit in the chair across from him. She walked to him and sat down, folding her hands in her lap. This once she would be an obedient wife, her impulse to just shake good sense into him firmly under control. There were bigger battles to come.

“You look well, Keifer.”

“As do you, Nola.”

While Nola's hands remained in her lap, Keifer's fingers drummed on the arms of his chair. So, he was nervous, too. To see them thus, no one would believe they had been friends for half their lives.

Nola felt her control slipping and bit the inside of her cheek to keep her tongue silent. Finally she lost the battle. “Owyn gave me your treasure box.”

He tilted his head, his expression puzzled. “He did? What for?”

“I think he knew that when I saw what was in the box, I wouldn't leave you.”

He looked at her, clearly not knowing what she was talking about.

She held out her hand, palm down. “Here.”

Keifer reached out his hand, and Nola laid the bracelet in his palm. He stared at the braid, shook his head. “Owyn.”

“What?”

“How could I have doubted him?” he whispered. He picked up the favor she had given to him years ago. “Owyn must have put this in the box after I cut it off my wrist before my knighting ceremony.”

“You cut it off?” Maybe Keifer had never loved her after all!

“Aye. I thought you were going to marry Will, and I was angry. I cut it off and threw it atop my clothes. But Owyn . . . I owe him an apology for ever doubting his loyalty.”

“And what of me, Keifer?”

Keifer stared at her, and she saw love and longing in his expression.

“I'm sorry—” she began.

“I shouldn't have—” he said at the same time.

They grinned at each other.

He lifted his hand to Nola, and she bent forward and took it between her own. But she needed to be closer, much closer, so she inched her chair forward until their knees were touching.

Keifer drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, one by one. “I should not have sent you away.”

“No. You should not have. But as you can see, it didn't do any good. I'm still here.”

He laughed and held fast to her hand. “I love you, Nola. God knows I don't deserve you or your love after the way I've been acting.

I don't know what God has in store, what the future holds. I only know that I don't want to face it without you.”

“That was never in question. I'm not going to desert you, not ever.”

“Good.” He tugged on her hand and she leaned closer, bracing her hands on the arms of the chair. They kissed; a kiss of forgiveness that quickly warmed into one of promise.

Nola pulled away. “I promise to give you a new favor to wear, Husband.”

“I promise to wear it until I die, Nola.”

All was forgiven, forgotten, turned over to God. Together they would face tomorrow, man and wife as God had ordained from days gone by.

KEIFER AND NOLA remained at Homelea, postponing travel to Innishewan until such time as Keifer regained more of his strength. With each passing day, his back healed and feeling returned to his legs. Adam and Will left for Moy with the promise to bring Nola's mother and siblings to Innishewan in the spring.

A fortnight later they were sitting in Homelea's rose garden when they heard the commotion of horses' hooves in the bailey. With the crutches Owyn had fashioned for him and Nola's help, Keifer stood. He had improved to the point where he could swing both legs together and put his weight on them. He followed Nola slowly to the front of the castle. As they rounded the corner, the abbey bells began to peal in the distance.

Lady Kathryn and others came running into the bailey from the castle and the outbuildings as Bryan halted his horse and dismounted. He'd been with the king for nearly a week.

Nola clutched Keifer's arm. “What on earth has happened?” she asked, her voice echoing Keifer's fear.

Not war. Not again, Lord.

Sir Bryan strode toward them, grinning like a boy who'd just stolen his first kiss. “The English have sued for peace!” Bryan shouted as he embraced Kathryn and lifted her off her feet.

“Peace?” Lady Kathryn breathed and several others echoed.

Bryan set her back on the ground. “Aye. My brilliant sire has succeeded in bringing England to terms.”

Everyone now crowded around Sir Bryan, anxious to hear more. The knight lifted his gaze to see Keifer, and he smiled broadly, pushing his way to stand in front of him. “Well, now. Seeing you upright is even better than my news.”

Keifer waggled a crutch. “These are temporary, my laird. I plan to get rid of them in the coming days. But tell us more—what are the terms?”

Bryan spoke as his wife gently guided him into the hall and urged him to sit. Soon servants brought food and drink, and after a long pull from a tankard, Sir Bryan answered their many questions.

“The terms are non-negotiable. Our king is firm in his resolve to have the kingdom of Scotland free and clear to himself and his heirs forever, without any homage to anyone other than God.”

“He has certainly earned that right!” Keifer declared.

Bryan agreed. “His son David will marry Edward's sister, Joan.”

“They are but wee children!” Lady Kathryn exclaimed.

“Aye. Nevertheless, the marriage will take place next summer. Bruce wants this agreement sealed in a way that Edward must honor.”

Keifer nodded. Too much blood had been shed on both sides to settle for less.

Bryan continued. “Robert insists that the English king should use his influence to persuade the pope to lift the interdict from Scotland and from Bruce himself.”

“And Edward has agreed?” Nola asked, obviously incredulous.

“Aye.”

“It is done, then,” Keifer said in wonder.

“Done!” Nola cried, hugging him close.

Freedom at last.

TEN MONTHS LATER Adam Mackintosh stood with his wife Gwenyth as they awaited the bridal procession of the future queen of Scotland. Robert the Bruce's four-year-old son waited on the steps of the church for his seven-year-old bride, Joan Plantagenet, sister of Edward III of England.

For a moment, Adam remembered the day he had married the woman at his side. Actually, he remembered all three times he and Gwenyth had exchanged vows. He smiled. She had been hard to convince but well worth the effort.

He fingered the ring on his left hand, the one that matched his wife's. He and Gwenyth had once been enemies, just as David and Joan's families were. Peace and prosperity now reigned at Moy, and in a few short months, he and Gwenyth would become grandparents.

He glanced at Gwenyth and saw that her gaze was on the little prince. The boy hopped up and down and his half brother, Bryan Mackintosh, knelt down to speak quietly with the child.

Gwenyth took Adam's hand and drew him close. “Poor lad. His childhood is being snatched away from him.”

“Aye. But this marriage is our only hope of holding the bride's brother to the treaty he signed. A betrothal is too easily broken.”

“As are treaties, especially those with England.” Gwenyth sighed. “We must pray that our countries and this marriage will be spared the turmoil of our generation.”

Adam also hoped that these children would be spared, but before he could say as much, trumpets sounded, announcing the bride. Adam watched as a half dozen young girls followed the trumpeters, walking down the pathway and strewing flower petals from willow baskets.

Then came Joan herself, mounted on a prancing white pony and looking regal despite her tender years. Joan's mother, the dowager Queen Isobella, and Isobella's companion, Mortimer, rode just behind the princess.

Adam had attended the royal wedding of the ill-fated Marjorie Bruce some dozen or so years ago, and he watched as the familiar pageantry unfolded. The princess's pony was led to the steps of the church, where Bryan helped her to dismount.

Then the bride and groom, so young and full of promise, faced each other. Without prompting, David took the girl's hand as Bryan read the terms of the marriage contract. Joan's dowry was nothing less than the kingdom of Scotland, given over at last to her new father-in-law by way of her husband.

BRYAN FINISHED READING THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT and presented the parchment to the priest. The wedding party and family members then entered the church for the consecration of the vows. As David and Joan knelt before the altar, Bryan walked over to his wife, Kathryn, who was standing in the first row.

She smiled up at him, and her expression reminded him that, like David and Joan, he and Kathryn had had little choice in their marriage. Bryan just prayed that the two who took vows this day would be as blessed as he and his wife had been.