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“They’ll want to hear the king’s words directly from my brother,” Bryce began. “He needs to be at the meeting.”

“And I will be.” Neill already knew what he had to do. “Tomorrow morning, I will tell them everything.”

“Everything?” Bryce interrupted.

“Aye. And you will watch Bothwell closely when I do.”

“Watch him?” Toren snorted. “We will do more than that. When I explain the king’s conditions, when Bothwell realizes even now a message is on its way to Edinburgh asking for a renewal of Alexander’s vow—”

“You will have him followed,” Kathryn said to Toren, catching on.

“Aye.”

“But I suppose I’ll not be here to see how this plays out?”

“Where will you go after the meeting?” Bryce asked, looking between Neill and Kathryn. “Bristol Manor?”

“Nay,” he said. “’Tis too close.” Kathryn asked the silent question, and he answered, “Kenshire Castle. We leave on the morrow for Kenshire Castle, my lady. You will be safe there.”

Chapter 16

Kenshire Castle.

Kathryn had heard of it, of course, but seeing one of the most formidable strongholds in the north was a very different experience than being told about it. Before their party even approached the outer curtain wall, she could smell the North Sea. Having traveled on a ship with her father, Kathryn knew the beauty of the sea could be deceiving. She still had a bump on her head from one particularly bad storm. A “testimonial to your travels,” her father had called it.

Despite everywhere she’d been, all the people she’d met in the course of her travels, this experience stood out among the others. One of the greatest castles in England loomed above her, and one of its greatest knights rode to her left.

Neill had spoken to the council as planned, recounting his audience with the English king. As expected, Bothwell had not reacted to the news that the English king had set a condition on the reward he’d granted his Tournament of Peace champion.

They’d not stayed long enough to witness the events that came afterward. Neill had excused himself before the midday meal while the council was still in session. They’d left at once. The plan was for them to remain safely in Kenshire until matters had settled at Brockburg and both royal courts.

She wished to speak to Neill about it, to hold his hand and kiss him, but they’d not found themselves alone for long on this four-day journey. She had an escort now, a young Scottish maid grateful for the opportunity to travel to Kenshire, along with a contingency of men provided by the chief of Clan Kerr.

Even so, she’d caught Neill looking at her plenty of times. The previous day they’d both approached a small stream at the same time on a break from the saddle. Kathryn had hoped they might have the opportunity to speak. It had almost seemed as if he’d sought her out, but Innis, her ever-present companion, had approached them before any words could be exchanged. Innis, who was simply doing her duty.

Kathryn had tried to thank Neill for taking her here. For keeping her safe. For leaving the council. That discussion, which they’d had before embarking from Brockburg, was the only private one they’d had in days. Kathryn very much looked forward to speaking with Neill again.

Kissing Neill, more like.

As many times as she’d chided herself for thinking of him that way, Kathryn simply could not stop thinking of his lips on hers, their tongues tangling greedily. Neill Waryn was in her blood.

“’Tis beautiful,” Innis said beside her as the portcullis was raised. The hooves of their mounts clanked across the drawbridge. Kenshire’s lower bailey was nearly the same size as Brockburg’s main courtyard, the immensity of the castle a testament to its preeminence along the northeastern coast.

“Aye,” she agreed, watching as Neill spoke with a rider who’d come to greet them. Nay, not any rider.

His brother.

He had the same raven-black hair as Neill and Bryce, the same wide shoulders. Kathryn rode closer and both men turned to her. Almost as quickly as he’d ridden out toward them, Geoffrey Waryn turned back to the castle and their riding party followed. Neill glanced her way, which was when she noticed his broad smile.

Neill obviously cared deeply for his siblings, and not for the first time, Kathryn wished she’d had brothers and sisters. But her father had fulfilled his promise never to remarry, her mother, he’d said repeatedly, “a woman who could not be replaced.”

They rode through the inner bailey and a passageway that climbed steeply upward, the main keep high above them. When the ground finally leveled again, Kathryn found herself in the most magnificent of courtyards, one that could rival that of any royal palace. It was unusual to see grass in an area so heavily traveled, but patches of it grew in various places, flowers even sprouting up here and there. When they had all dismounted, Neill gave Kathryn’s reins to a stable boy, who bowed his head to her, a reaction to one of the two gowns Lady Juliette had insisted she take with her.

When she looked up at the main keep, Kathryn blinked. The woman walking toward them did not look as if she could be real. Lady Juliette was lovely, but this woman, who could only be the Countess of Kenshire, was striking.

Her dark hair and exotic beauty looked almost out of place here in this cool climate, but her face was not the most noticeable thing about her. The lady wore what appeared to be an altered version of men’s breeches paired with a tunic, not unlike the ones Neill wore, and no overtunic. She looked as if she were heading to the training yard.

In all of her travels, Kathryn had never seen anything like it.