The Price of Freedom by Carol Umberger Page B

if he was only so forbidding around her.
    Returning her thoughts to the night’s entertainment, she saw many of those present had now joined Gawen in another song.
    Kathryn stifled a yawn just as Sir Bryan turned to face her, emotions masked, as usual, beneath a scowl. “You are tired, my lady. Do you wish to retire?”
    â€œAye, my laird, if it please you.”
    His face remained expressionless. “I have enjoyed your company this evening.”
    His confession surprised her. “And I yours, my laird.” Though the polite response came automatically, she realized the words were true. Were his words more than required etiquette as well? His stoic countenance made clear that he desired no further conversation. She rose, bid him goodnight, and retired to her chamber to a restless night’s sleep.
    KATHRYN SPENT THE NEXT MORNING with her steward and her chief shepherd, tallying the lambs born this spring. Homelea’s wealth derived mainly from the fine wool produced by its flock of sheep, and Kathryn had much to learn about their care. If she had hoped her protector would also oversee the estate, she was doomed to disappointment.
    Over the past week Sir Bryan and Adam had been far too busy to attend to the day-to-day decisions of managing a castle and its occupants. Messengers arrived at all hours and often Sir Bryan had ridden out with them.
    As the time for the noonday meal approached, the sound of horses on the drawbridge startled her. By the time she crossed the hall, she saw Fergus usher a man into the solar, which Sir Bryan now occupied as a temporary headquarters.
    Fergus closed the door and Kathryn inquired, “Do you know who sent him?”
    â€œKing Robert, my lady. Most likely the man has news of the war.”
    â€œHe doesn’t look like a messenger.” The man had been as large as the Black Knight and carried an unusual number of weapons.
    Kathryn went to see to refreshments for the man, whoever or whatever he might be.
    Curiosity aroused, Kathryn returned to the hall and lingered about the doorway of the solar for several minutes. Something was brewing, something more than the confrontation at Stirling. And their plotting seemed to put Homelea and its inhabitants directly in the middle, making her fear for their safety.
    Twice she walked toward the door intending to knock, but voices raised in anger could clearly be heard from behind the heavy oak door. Actually, only one voice sounded angry—Sir Bryan’s. The other voice was pleading.
    The sound of crashing furniture sent Kathryn scurrying to the other side of the hall. Whatever the messenger had told Sir Bryan had obviously not pleased the knight. The door would no doubt open soon and disgorge the hapless messenger. Rather than risk being near the angry knight, she hastened out of the hall to the stable. She had just begun to groom her mare when a servant found her. “My lady, Sir Bryan would like a word with ye.”
    Reluctantly Kathryn set down the brush and walked back toward the keep, entering through the kitchen. She crossed the hall and hesitated outside the solar. Finally, she pushed the door open, barely concealing a gasp when she spied the scowl on Black Bryan’s face.
    Adam stood next to him, and only the kindness in his smile kept Kathryn from retracing her steps to the stable. A fast ride on a willing horse appealed to her far more than facing the grim-faced man in front of her. The messenger had already left the room.
    Recovering her composure, Kathryn asked, “You sent for me, sir?”
    â€œAye, come have a seat.” He averted his gaze.
    Why wouldn’t he look at her?
    He brought his gaze back to her and something in his eyes made her shiver involuntarily.
    She sat in the chair Adam offered as Sir Bryan picked up a parchment from the table. Her heart hammered in her chest. She could see the muscle work in his jaw as he clenched and unclenched it.
    â€œThe king has chosen a