Forbidden Legacy (14 page)

Katherine listened, dreading what Thomas would disclose next.

“Desperate for peace, King Philip rescinded the currency devaluation. With the people appeased, he returned to the palace.” Thomas paused, his eyes dark with emotion. “A short time later, people came forth spewing claims against the Templars; damning, heresy. None of the charges were ever tied to King Philip, but we in the Order harbor little doubt as to the origin of these false accusations.”

“What happened?” she whispered.

“Armed with justifications of alleged Templar atrocities, King Philip wrote an order for the arrest of the Templars.”

Horrified, she shook her head. “ 'Tis despicable!”

“Aye. But for King Philip, an answer to his dire need for gold.”

“How did you, Stephan, and the other knights escape?”

“The Grand Master received advance warning that, with false charges in hand, the king had written orders to begin arrests of the Knights Templar on the thirteenth of October,” Thomas replied. “Unbeknownst to King Philip, under the cover of night, many of the valuables within the Paris temple were loaded on Templar galleys moored at the port of La Rochelle. Most sailed south to Portugal.”

“And the remaining five,” she said, nauseated by the terrible wrong, the injustice, and the king's unforgivable greed, “to Scotland.”

“Aye.”

Katherine shook her head. “He willna succeed. Pope Clement—”

“Willna intercede. His Grace wasna chosen as pope for his strength of character,” Thomas said, his voice bitter. “King Philip ensured that the man chosen to wield the church's might was one he could bend to his will.”

A shudder tore through her and she crossed herself. “King Philip has the power to sway the choosing of a pope?”

Thomas nodded.

“But . . . It doesna . . . How is such treachery possible in a position so sacred?”

Coolness shrouded the warrior's gaze. “A desperate king will do many things to save his realm,” Thomas said. “Rest assured, King Philip's duplicity is known well by the Templars.”

Horror filled her at the far-reaching effects of the treacherous French king's actions. Overwhelmed and saddened for the warriors who'd served for hundreds of years to protect others, she focused on her husband. “But how can Stephan marry? As a Templar Knight, he is forbidden to wed.”

“As a knight within the Order, aye. But as you heard in Stephan's ramblings, with the impending arrests, the Grand Master has secretly dissolved the order. Those who remained will either be uninformed of his action or, if told, would keep the dissolution a secret.”

“And—”

Thomas held up his hand. “I have explained all that I will. If you are to learn more, 'twill be Stephan's doing.”

Katherine nodded, sickened by the revelations, horrified to learn that France's ruler was little better than a common thief. His hunger for power, his drive to take, to claim without care whoever he hurt, whoever he killed.

Gruesome images of her family's murder rolled through her mind; anger swelled. Her parents' deaths, ordered by yet another sovereign's quest for power. 'Twould seem nobility's virtues rose far from those they were to rule. She grimaced. Rule? Nay. Use, manipulate, lie for their own notorious gain.

Heart aching, Katherine faced her husband. “How long do you expect him to remain asleep?”

“For the next day, hopefully two.”

“Hopefully?”

A hint of a smile touched the knight's mouth. “Stephan is a stubborn man.”

“He is.” A trait, however frustrating at times, she admired. “You know much about healing.”

Thomas shrugged. “All of the men are trained in the use of herbs.”

“All?” Intrigued, she studied the meticulous stitches, those of a master who knew his craft. She glanced up. “ 'Tis uncommon to find so many warriors knowledgeable in the art of healing.”

“The Knights Templar are highly trained,” he replied, his words nonchalant, his claim anything but. “'Tis yet another advantage we have on those we fight.”

Heat touched her cheeks. “A question I shouldna have asked.”

“I expect interest and curiosity from those Stephan works with,” Thomas said. “As well as from a woman who loves her husband.”

Love? Katherine fought the churning in her gut. He was wrong. After all she'd endured, the horrors still haunting her, never could she love a man. “Nae enough time has passed for Stephan or I to know the other, much less feel more.”

“In some instances, time isna a factor in how much we care. Given your actions toward your husband, you are a woman who cares deeply, and from my observations, I believe much more.”

Panic swept through her, and she grasped on to logic. “Why are you saying this?” Katherine demanded, shaken that his claim might be too close to the truth.

Thomas stared toward the lantern for a long moment and his eyes grew misty. On a slow breath, he faced her. “I see how you struggle with your feelings for Stephan. Life is too brief to nae live it, to nae risk admitting what you feel to those who matter. Take care that you dinna destroy this chance at happiness you have been given.”

Pain cut through her as she remembered that never again would she have the chance to tell her family she loved them, something she would regret the rest of her life. And Stephan? She cared for him deeply, but love?

“Many years ago,” Thomas continued, “I held the rank of a noble.”

“You are nobility?”

“Aye,” Thomas said with such sadness 'twas as if it were a weight he bore with each breath. “ 'Tis a life I lived long ago. My father still lives, but due to my actions, I canna go back, ever. Yet, however foolish, a part of me wishes I could.”

Shaken by the grief in his voice, she laid her hand on his forearm. “What happened?”

Thomas's expression hardened.

Nae wanting to upset him but curious to learn more, she shifted tactics. “Are you the next in line to inherit your father's title?”

“Nay, that will go to my oldest brother. My rank and holdings were minor in comparison.”

He had a family. Her mind filled with questions, she withdrew her hand. “So you abandoned your nobility and joined the Knights Templar to fight in the Crusades?” she asked, the only explanation that made sense.

His mouth tight, he nodded. “Aye, but that isna why I bring up the issue. Lass, dinna make the mistake I made.”

An ache built in her chest at the pain he'd suffered and, the guilt he still struggled with. “I care for Stephan,” she admitted, choosing her words with caution, “but our situation is . . . different.”

“Is it? Or do you want it to be so you can admit naught?” Thomas stood, his face an unreadable mask, as if but moments before he hadna shared a deep, dark secret. “I have told you what few know because your husband is an honorable man, one who has suffered greatly and holds too much inside. You are a strong, admirable woman, one I and the other knights respect. I see within the bond you and Stephan have forged an opportunity to allow Stephan to heal, and from your grief, hesitation, and pain that lingers in your eyes, yourself. A chance, however much I pray my own life will never have. Before you risk severing any possible chance for happiness between you and Stephan, consider all that you could lose.”

Moved that he and his men had noticed her turmoil, more so that they approved of her, Katherine floundered. How could they believe she could tear down Stephan's walls, convince him to let go of whatever haunted him from his past, when she struggled with her own?

“You are stronger than you believe,” Thomas said.

He was wrong. Strength didna drive her but fear. The loss of her family still scarred her every breath. However much she was drawn to Stephan, lured by his touch, his kiss, 'twas too soon to think of exposing herself to the possibility of so much pain.

“I will consider your advice,” Katherine said, “but I guarantee naught.”

He nodded. “'Tis all I ask.”

“I think you have more faith in me than I do myself,” she said, her words unsteady, struggling to ignore the need her husband made her feel.

“At times,” Thomas said with an encouraging smile, “ 'tis enough.”

Mayhap, but for her now wasna the time to dare. So she would focus on reclaiming her home. Neither was she the only one who suffered. “Thomas, I am sorry for whatever caused strife between you and your family.”

“I thank you.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“A storm is moving in,” she said.

Thomas stood. “I need to go above to help the others ensure all is secure.”

“Before you go, I saw how you and the men glanced at each other when I explained there were eight stones to count in the tunnel behind the dungeon to find the hidden entry. Why?”

“'Tis the number of points on a Templar cross.”

“And the
X
carved onto the stone in the tunnel?”

“A Templar mark.”

“Which explains your and the other men's reaction to learning of the mark's existence.” Somber, she stared at this man who, like her husband, was one of honor. Humbled he'd trusted her with the secret of the Knights Templar, she shook her head. “I willna repeat what you told me.”

“I know, or I wouldna have shared it. Neither did I tell you to make secrets between us, but to ask you to consider what you feel for Stephan and, when the time comes, to be strong enough to admit the truth. If I had but a day,” he said, his voice a rough whisper, “even a moment to return to tell my family that I love them, I would. 'Tis better than living with regrets.” With a nod, he strode from the cabin, tugging the door shut.

The quiet shudder of wood echoed in his wake.

Another rumble of thunder sounded, this time closer.

Shaken by the knight's words, she rubbed the chills from her arms. The quiet slap of waves against the bow was in stark contrast to the storm brewing in the distance, one as potent as the churning in her soul.

Rubbing her brow, Katherine turned toward Stephan. The soft shimmer of the lantern light filling the room illuminated the pallor on his face, every hard angle, the cropped brown hair that lent him an even more rugged appeal. As when she'd first met him, he looked fierce, unapproachable, a man most would avoid.

Yet she'd come to know him, had discovered that behind the cool façade was a man driven to protect, a man who battled his own demons. And as a Knight Templar, a devout man who put others before himself.

How he must have struggled to accept the dissolution of that elite force. The grief, the sadness in his eyes now made sense. She ached for him, for those he'd lost. A fate Katherine well understood.

Life wasna fair; 'twas ruthless in its demands and none escaped its touch. Happiness was fleeting against the reality of pain delivered by the loss of those one loved.

Shaken, Katherine settled beside where her husband lay, caught in a restless sleep filled with nightmares.

Help him? How could she allow herself to care for this man, to love him, when her grief was still so raw?

Memories of their kiss sifted through her mind. Of how the soft breeze had encircled them as if a force of its own, his hesitation, and then the way his mouth had claimed hers.

And, God help her, she'd wanted him. The feel of his body pressed against hers had left her yearning for more, a need that made her ache with wanting, a hunger that blurred the memories of her assault.

A tear rolled down her cheek, slid to her chin, wobbled and dropped to the floor. She stared at the blur of wetness upon the aged plank, how it soaked into the weathered wood, absorbed into a dark blemish that would linger. On the morrow the stain could vanish, but traces might remain, as did the tender memories of their first kiss.

She sniffed.

Aye, she cared for Stephan. He was a man who made her feel more than she'd ever believed possible. Her attraction toward him was incredible considering her fear of men since the attack. Was Thomas right? So afraid to care, was she ignoring the depth of her feelings for Stephan?

As if a gift, warmth touched her heart, a slide of emotion that settled over her in a warm haze. And she understood.

She loved Stephan.

Katherine stared at her husband, ached with what he made her feel. How was this possible? She was broken inside. Never could she come willingly to his bed. After her hesitancy at his touch, how much time would pass before he grew tired of her? As if she could blame him for seeking the warmth of a woman's bed when with her he would find naught but coldness? But having realized that she loved him, to see him in the arms of another would leave her devastated.

Katherine struggled to catch her breath. Stephan must never learn how he made her feel. To allow her husband such hope would be cruel when he was a man who deserved a wife who would willingly join him in his bed. His children should be born of love, nae created beneath the icy terror of his touch.

Her husband shifted and agony lined his face.

“I am here,” Katherine said as she lay a cool cloth on his brow. She stroked the dampened linen over the firm sweep of his jaw. “Sleep now.”

His entire body stiffened. “Nay!” Stephan tried to sit.

She caught his shoulders, pressed him against the bed. “You are safe; go back to sleep.”

“The Templars . . .” In the lantern's glow, his face tightened, his breathing quickening. “God, nay! Johanna, run!”

She stilled. Who was Johanna?

“They are coming!” His mouth pressed together until his lips grew white. “Johanna!”