Ilisa stared at Braden in disbelief. Where was the honorable, caring man she’d come to know? Who was this man who refused to aid her brother?

“Ilisa,” he began, still holding her arm.

She tugged it away, not wanting him to touch her. Not until he explained himself.

Surely he wasn’t anything like the English knights who’d destroyed Berwick. Yet she couldn’t shake her doubt. Why had he not done something—anything—to save Alec? How could she separate that fact from what she’d witnessed and still relived so many times in her nightmares?

“Why?” She wiped away the tears, yet they continued to fall. Fear was guiding her in this moment, but she couldn’t help it. All she could see was Alec’s expression, full of pain and helplessness. “He’s only a boy. Why didn’t you do something? Or allow me to help him?”

“There was no way to free him when Monroe had a knife pointed at his side.”

She stilled. “A knife?”

“I wasn’t willing to risk further harm to Alec.”

“I didn’t realize Monroe had a knife.” She placed both hands over her face as fear and embarrassment washed through her. She’d been so focused on Alec that she hadn’t noticed the knife. Hadn’t realized the danger. She hated how helpless she felt, unable to give assistance to her brother when he needed it most. “Oh, Alec. He must be terrified. We’ve got to do something.”

“I’ll do all in my power to free him.”

She lowered her hands to look into Braden’s eyes. “And heal him?” The knowledge that Alec was in terrible pain was unbearable.

He clenched his jaw. “I need time to determine how best to proceed.”

“But if we don’t do what Monroe wants, he’ll further harm Alec.” Panic took hold at the thought.

“If we do as he requests, the risk is great that we won’t be allowed to leave. Graham’s demands won’t end once he learns the truth.” Braden took her hands in his. “I’m asking you to trust me. To trust in us.”

She hesitated. Could she?

He released her when she didn’t answer. “Pack your things as we’ll be leaving as soon as I free Alec. I’m going to speak with Chanse. Then I’ll go to the keep.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Nay. ’Tis too dangerous. Wait here.”

“I’m coming too,” she repeated. She refused to leave Alec’s fate to anyone else, plus remaining here, wondering what was happening, would make her crazed.

“Very well.” Braden looked away, giving her the distinct impression she’d disappointed him. But until Alec was safe, her and Braden’s feelings for each other didn’t matter. “I’m going to speak with Chanse then I’ll return for you.”

Ilisa watched him go with a lump in her throat, wondering how everything had gone so wrong.

 

~*~

 

James smiled, unable to believe his good fortune as he waited in the solar just off the great hall. If Monroe told the truth, that was. The steward’s claims were nearly unbelievable. A knight who held the power to heal? Such a thing sounded impossible.

His anger had grown ten-fold after the outcome of the melee. Monroe hadn’t delivered any of the promises he’d made. Chanse and Hugh had emerged from the tournament unscathed. James’s plan to award Arabela to the champion had been ruined as Chanse had won two of the three competitions. James had wanted a true champion, preferably one he already favored. One who understood his place in Scotland’s future and whose vision aligned with James’s. None of that had come to pass.

But when Monroe had pulled him aside after the feast last eve to tell him of his suspicions, James’s disgust had eased.

If Monroe had truly pushed Lady Cairstine from near the top of the tower stairs, she would’ve suffered significant injuries. Yet she’d walked into his hall the next day as if nothing had occurred. The only person she’d been with was her husband. James well knew their village healer had never performed miracles.

He’d heard rumors of such a gift before. Whether the healing touch came from God or the devil, he couldn’t say. But he knew what he’d claim. Having the power of God on his side would change everything.

Controlling such a man would clear the path for all of James’s plans. People would come from near and far to see the healing knight. To be touched by him. If that knight declared who should rule Scotland, even the King of England would believe him. And James would control him.

He nearly chuckled with glee.

If Monroe spoke the truth and Sir Hugh could truly heal.

While he didn’t trust his steward anymore than he trusted any of his men, he was willing to listen. Even better, he was willing to watch a demonstration of the knight’s skills.

How Monroe intended to make that happen would be interesting as well.

Yet as time marched past with no sign of Monroe, James’s impatience grew. At last, he opened the chamber door, catching a passing maidservant. “Where is Monroe?”

“I haven’t seen him, my lord. I will ask if anyone else has.”

James was not used to being kept waiting, nor did he appreciate it.

Monroe finally arrived, his face flushed as he rushed through the open door of the solar. “My apologies, my lord, but I—” He halted as Sir Hugh and his wife arrived.

The knight glanced about the chamber as though expecting someone else, his expression grim.

“Let us get on with this,” James said impatiently. “I have other matters requiring my attention.” Though none nearly as interesting.

“I—I fear I’ve encountered a pr—problem,” Monroe stammered.

“Where’s Alec?” Lady Cairstine demanded, her gaze searching the chamber as well.

James frowned. “Who is Alec?”

“Their squire,” Monroe said. “He...suffered a broken arm this morn. Sir Hugh was going to demonstrate his unusual gift on the lad for us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sir Hugh frowned at Monroe as though he’d lost his mind. “You said the boy would be here. We’ve come to collect him as we’re ready to leave. Where is he?”

“Monroe, what is going on?”

Monroe turned to face James, his expression desperate. “Unfortunately, the lad has disappeared and along with him, the chance to demonstrate the knight’s skill.”

Hugh and his wife shared an odd look at Monroe’s words.

“But know that Sir Hugh lies. He’s a healer. He healed her.” The steward raised a trembling finger to point at Lady Cairstine.

“You must admit you had a remarkable recovery,” James said as he studied the lady, unwilling to allow this opportunity to slip through his fingers.

She shook her head, a frown creasing her brow. “’Tis true that I fell from the stairs, as you may have heard, but I only fell a few steps. There was no injury to heal.”

“Is that why you called us here?” Sir Hugh asked. “Because you thought I had such a talent?” He smiled. “Such an ability would be a blessing, but alas ’tis not mine. Now then, you told me my squire would be here, and we need his assistance to finish packing. We have a long way to travel. Where is he?”

“Monroe, what is this about?” James didn’t know who to believe. Though Monroe’s story of the healing touch seemed ridiculous, why would the steward claim such a feat if it weren’t true?

“I—I promise you, my lord, Sir Hugh can heal. ’Tis the only explanation.” Monroe glanced back to the couple then to James, eyes wild. “I swear on my life. I’ll prove it to you.” He rushed toward the lady, reaching for her.

Sir Hugh moved to stand in front of her. “Do not dare touch her.”

Monroe jerked back. “You will heal her again.” He turned to face James, drawing his knife. “I’ll cut her, and he’ll show you. I’m certain his gift works on more than broken bones.”

“Monroe,” James began, alarmed at his obvious intent.

Sir Hugh grabbed Monroe’s wrist, squeezing until he cried out in pain and the blade clattered to the stone floor. “You will not touch her. Do I make myself clear?” The knight twisted Monroe’s arm until the man whimpered in protest. “I don’t know what all this is about, but I will not stand for it.”

“You don’t understand,” Monroe pleaded with the knight, his determination evident despite his pain. “You and Lord Graham together could unite Scotland. Don’t you see?”

James wondered if his steward had lost his grip on reality. The situation was growing increasingly crazed by the moment—all because of Monroe’s odd behavior.

Sir Hugh shook his head, shoving aside the steward before looking at James. “Surely you don’t believe such things are possible?”

“My steward certainly thinks so.” The incredulous look on the knight’s face only made James doubt Monroe more.

“You’re certain you don’t know where my squire is?” he asked Monroe, his glare heated.

Monroe only shook his head, his expression fearful.

“Then we’ll be leaving now,” Sir Hugh said as he reached for his wife’s hand. “Our thanks for your hospitality, my lord.”

James hesitated, wondering who told the truth and whether he should allow Hugh to leave. If Monroe was right and able to convince James, then he could locate Hugh later and force the knight to join him.

If Monroe was wrong and James imprisoned Sir Hugh and his wife with no cause, the consequences could be dire. He needed his reputation to remain unblemished with all he had planned. Why take such a risk?

Before he could determine the best course of action, Sir Niall and several of his men appeared in the doorway. “Lord Graham, I was hoping to find you.” He glanced at Sir Hugh, his wife, and Monroe then to the knife on the floor. “Am I interrupting?”

The last thing James wanted was for Sir Niall to become aware of the conversation they’d just had. No doubt Niall would be more than pleased to spread rumors of James’s loss of sanity.

“My apologies, Sir Hugh. Lady Cairstine,” James said. “My steward must be over-anxious from all the activities of the celebration. I wish you safe travels.”

Sir Hugh bowed then took his wife’s hand, keeping his gaze on Monroe as though he expected the steward to make a rash move before they could take their leave.

James ignored them to give his attention to Sir Niall, doing his best to act as though nothing untoward had occurred. “Have you come to bid me goodbye?”

Monroe retrieved his knife, his anger at having his plan thwarted evident. But it couldn’t possibly match James’s at being made such a fool.

As Sir Niall thanked him for his hospitality, James mulled over all Monroe claimed as well as Sir Hugh’s reaction. He quickly bid the other man goodbye then turned to his steward.

“Monroe,” he called. “You will explain yourself anon.”

 

~*~

 

Braden’s heart pounded from the close call as they walked down the steps of the keep. But he wouldn’t be relieved until they found Alec. “Where could your brother have gone?”

“I have no idea,” Ilisa said, her expression panicked as she drew to a halt. “Shouldn’t we search the keep for him?”

“Your brother wouldn’t remain inside. Not with the entire holding in which to hide.” He searched the inner bailey, wishing he’d appear. But Braden saw nothing. “’Twas brilliant. However he got away from Monroe is to be praised.”

“But how will we find him?” Ilisa looked far from relieved.

“Mayhap he returned to the stables.” Braden continued down the steps, moving in that direction, where he’d left Chanse preparing the horses. “With luck, he’ll find us.”

He hoped she understood how dangerous it was to reveal his gift. He well knew the risk he faced if someone like Graham attempted to force him to heal, as his mother had faced the same problem. People he cared for would be hurt to make him do it. There would be no end to the lord’s demands.

But that didn’t mean he intended to leave Alec behind. He and Ilisa hurried toward the stables.

Chanse’s relief was visible when he saw them. “What happened? Where’s Alec?”

“He apparently escaped Monroe. We were hoping he was with you.”

“I haven’t seen him.”

Braden didn’t look at Ilisa. He couldn’t bear to see her worry. If only he had Garrick’s second sight so he might ‘see’ where Alec was. Where could the boy have gone?

He tried to think of what he would’ve done if he were Alec. Had he somehow managed to leave the holding? With all the guests departing this morn, he could’ve easily slipped out with another group.

If Alec remained here, surely he was in a place where he could watch them and know when they left.

“Let us go before Graham changes his mind.” Braden could see questions in Chanse’s eyes, but his brother held his tongue.

“Alec—” Ilisa began.

“Will either be watching us or has already managed to flee the holding.”

“What makes you certain?” Ilisa blinked back tears.

“You know your brother best. Don’t you believe he’d have a plan?”

She drew a deep breath, obviously trying to gather her thoughts and set aside her fear. “You’re right. He’s a smart boy.”

“Do you think he could get out the gate?” Chanse asked, his concerned gaze catching on Ilisa.

“With so many others leaving, I think so.” Braden sincerely hoped so.

“There’s another way as well,” Ilisa said. “Arabela showed me hidden steps that lead up to the wall. Climbing down the other side wouldn’t be easy, but even with a broken arm, I believe Alec could do it.”

“Where are the steps?” Chanse asked.

Ilisa pointed in the direction, explaining the location, which she’d already shared with Braden and Alec.

Chanse nodded. “No doubt Alec is waiting for us along the road, regardless of which way he escaped.”

“What if he’s not?” Ilisa asked, directing her question at Braden.

“Then we’ll return and search the entire holding until we find him.” His words seemed to provide some measure of comfort to Ilisa.

Chanse kept his tone light as he spoke with Ilisa, but Braden knew his brother was as worried as he.

They finished taking down the tent as Chanse had already disassembled the bed and loaded it into the cart with their trunks and other things. Many of the other guests still packed though some had left earlier. Luckily, they’d said most of their goodbyes the previous evening, so they weren’t interrupted overmuch.

Within a short time, they arrived at the portcullis, leading Alec’s horse with no rider. Braden feared they’d be stopped before they left the holding. Between that concern and worrying over Alec, his nerves stretched taut.

Ilisa continually searched the grounds for him, her brow furrowed with worry. She glanced at her brother’s horse several times, as though unable to believe he wasn’t with them.

Braden hoped like hell they didn’t have to return—that Alec wasn’t far and would soon join them.

“Hold.”

Braden stilled at the command before turning to see Sir Matthew galloping toward them. Braden shared a glance with Chanse, who gave a nod to indicate his readiness. They might have to fight their way out of the holding after all. Braden eased his steed back to keep Ilisa between him and Chanse, prepared to protect her no matter the cost.

The knight halted his horse next to Braden, his expression somber. “I heard some disturbing news.” He glanced at Alec’s mount and frowned.

“Oh?” Braden moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, uncertain as to what Matthew referred. Many disturbing things had occurred of late.

“I overheard Monroe speaking with Lord Graham.” Matthew kept his voice low, preventing the guards at the gate from hearing what he said.

Braden waited, poised for action. What he’d said thus far gave no indication as to what Matthew had heard or who he believed.

“Is it true? Monroe harmed your squire?”

“Aye.” If he’d heard that much, no doubt he’d also heard discussion on whether Braden could heal.

Matthew ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand what Monroe could’ve been thinking. He’s normally a rational man who’s good at his job. But the way he was speaking just now and what he said made no sense.”

Braden didn’t confirm or deny anything. He did what often worked in such a situation—changed the subject. “Have you seen the lad? He was upset and frightened. We believe he may have taken off.”

“Nay, I haven’t.” Matthew frowned. “I cannot offer an explanation for Monroe’s behavior, but I’d be pleased to help search for your squire.”

“I appreciate that. Between you and I, I’m hoping he hasn’t gone far and will join us once we leave the holding.”

While Braden had once thought the knight less than trustworthy, Matthew had proven otherwise. He’d been wrong about the knight, while Ilisa had been right, just as she’d been right about Monroe.

“I’ll return if we don’t find him soon,” Braden said. “If I do, I’d be grateful for your assistance.”

“Of course. I’ll keep watch for the lad but will hope he’s waiting for you. I wish you all well.” His gaze shifted to include Ilisa and Chanse. “Safe travels.”

They continued on their way through the raised portcullis. Braden had been looking forward to their departure since they entered the holding, but leaving without Alec took away the relief.

Ilisa glanced back, no doubt checking for Alec one last time.

The idea of the lad hurt, in pain, frightened, and trying to decide the best course of action worried Braden.

“He’s a clever lad,” Braden told Ilisa. “Resourceful and determined. We’ll be reunited with him soon.” He spoke as much to comfort her as himself.

Ilisa held his gaze for a moment, and he was pleased when she nodded. “Far more clever than most his age.”

“Very smart,” Chanse added.

“But we’ll return to search for him if he isn’t up ahead.” It didn’t escape Braden’s notice that she phrased it as a statement rather than a question.

“Aye. Let us hope that’s unnecessary.”

The hills were steep and rugged with little cover for Alec. Braden tried to remember how he thought at that age, searching for somewhere that would provide a view yet hide him from the road. Surely he’d travel as far from the holding as he could with the hope the steward wouldn’t find him.

Yet fear that he’d found a place to hide in the holding, too frightened to move, remained. Braden searched the area, his gaze lingering in the shadows and dips. He watched behind them as well in case Alec was trying to catch up with them.

Time passed, and the road grew long. The farther they traveled, the more concerned Braden became. They should’ve come upon Alec by now. Had he been hurt more than Braden realized? Had he holed up somewhere to rest then fallen asleep? Or worse?

He drew his horse to a halt, prepared to turn around and risk returning to Graham’s.

Ilisa’s worried gaze met his.

“Why don’t the two of you find a place to make camp, and I’ll—”

“Braden. Ilisa.”

They turned as one to see Alec walking toward them from some small bushes not far from the road.

Braden didn’t think he’d ever been so pleased to see the boy.

Ilisa slid off her horse and ran to her brother. “We’ve been so worried.” She hugged him, careful of the arm he cradled.

“As have I,” Alec admitted. Though pain etched the boy’s face, he didn’t appear to have succumbed to any further harm than what they’d seen earlier. “I feared you’d remain at the holding searching for me.”

Braden dismounted to greet Alec properly. “Well done. I can’t imagine how you escaped Monroe, but you saved us all.”

Alec’s faint smile washed away the last of Braden’s worry. “’Twasn’t overly difficult. I don’t think he expected me to fight him when I was already hurt. I’d had plenty of time to explore the holding and knew a few spots I could hide. He can’t run very fast.” He lifted one shoulder in a careless gesture, but Braden could tell he was proud of himself.

“Good work,” Braden said as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Well done, Alec,” Chanse added, giving Braden a chance to study the swollen lump just above the boy’s wrist.

No doubt it hurt like the devil. Relieving him of the injury was the least Braden could do after Alec’s sacrifice. He looked about for a place off the road where they could rest for a time. Alec must be exhausted after his ordeal, and Braden soon would be.

“Braden, wait,” Chanse said. “The farther we travel from Graham’s, the better.”

Chanse was right. Braden didn’t feel safe this close to Graham’s. They’d been riding for some time but hadn’t traveled quickly. But one look at Alec’s expression, not to mention Ilisa’s, convinced him the sooner he aided him, the better.

“Alec’s been in pain long enough,” he responded, noting the look of relief on the boy’s face. “We’ll find a place nearby where we can all rest.”

Braden didn’t think Alec’s injury would drain him overmuch. Then again, ’twas difficult to measure such things.

Chanse scowled but found a flat area a short distance from the road where they could sit, and the horses could graze.

Knowing his brother was with them to watch over Alec and Ilisa eased Braden’s concern. Chanse saw to the horses while Braden settled Alec on the grass beside him.

Ilisa didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. The looks she sent their way shifted from a longing to stay with her brother to warily watching Braden.

In truth, he preferred not to have anyone watch. He may have had this gift all his life, but that didn’t mean he understood it or wanted to heal in front of anyone.

He was grateful when Chanse drew Ilisa into a conversation near the horses, both their backs to him. His brother knew him well.

“Why don’t you lie down so you’re comfortable,” Braden said to Alec, offering him a smile to reassure him. “If you’d close your eyes and relax and try to think of something other than the pain...”

Braden continued to speak in a low voice, giving Alec something else to focus on as he placed his hands along Alec’s arm, searching for the heat that accompanied the break. He held Alec’s arm firmly but not so tightly as to cause further pain.

He closed his own eyes and sent his focus into the center of the damaged area. He held it there for a long moment then pulled it back, wincing as sharp pain flowed into his body.

Damn and blast, but it hurt. He breathed through the terrible ache until at last the pain eased. Weariness took the place of the pain, making it difficult for him to open his eyes, let alone move.

Alec opened his eyes to stare at him, his gaze full of wonder.

“How does it feel now?” Braden asked, moving his hands along Alec’s arm to search for more heat and found another small area, wondering if he had enough energy left to fix it.

“Much better.” He glanced down to where Braden touched him. “That’s where Monroe struck me to try to break it. When that didn’t work, he twisted it.”

Braden bit back a curse. “I’m sorry he did this to you.” This wasn’t the first time someone had been hurt because of his gift nor would it be the last. Unfortunately, such events were out of his control.

It made him even more determined to keep his ability a secret. Somehow, he had to make Ilisa understand. “Close your eyes one more time,” he told Alec, trying to wade through his weariness to gather his thoughts again.

The pain wasn’t as sharp this time, hopefully a sign the injury wasn’t as severe.

“Rest now,” he muttered to Alec as he settled on the ground beside him and closed his eyes.