Page 1 of Kilted Hate

CHAPTER ONE

November 1297. At sea near the shore of the Isle of Skye…

Any other bride would not plan her husband’s funeral before she’d even married the man.

And yet, as Lady Katherine de Beaumont stood at the bow of the birlinn, anchoring herself with a firm grip on the rope beside her as the boat rose and fell with the swell of the sea, that’s exactly what was going through her mind.

She sighed heavily, the exhaustion of the last week of travelling washing over her. On the freezing cold November day, there had already been snowfall, and pulling the heavy cloak tighter around her, she acknowledged that the bitter winter of Scotland was a far cry from the weather back home in England.

The rough seas were hardly helping, and though she tried to fight it, as the wind pulled at the tendrils of her chestnut hair, the dizziness and seasickness threatened to overcome her.

To distract herself, Katherine dug her hand into her cloak pocket and took out the little black book she always carried with her. Among many other things, it contained a list of daring sins, all the things she had sworn she would do before she was wed. There were still quite a few remaining.

Kiss a stranger. Spy on a gentleman bathing. Ride astride a horse. Get her skin marked with a tattoo. Swim without clothes and, finally, read a banned book.

As she gazed down at the page flapping madly in the wind, she shook her head.

And yet, I will never get to complete my list now, for in two weeks, I will be forced to marry the devil himself.

As someone approached her, she cursed under her breath, fearing they would see her list, and hurriedly, she stuffed the book back into her pocket and pulled out a small knife to make space.

“I have told you before,” Reginald growled, coming to stand close by her side. “Carrying a knife is anything but ladylike.”

Katherine’s brother, Lord Reginald De Beaumont, was a tall and imposing figure with a commanding presence. At thirty-four, hewas eleven years Katherine’s senior, and unlike his sister’s soft refined features, with her high cheek bones and defined jawline, his face was thin and angular.

Nor did they share the same eye color, for while his were a pale blue, a color that she had always felt perfectly conveyed his cold, calculated and a ruthless nature, her eyes were a piercing green.

Katherine flashed him a scowling glance, noting the streaks of gray in his almost black hair. His perfectly manicured beard added to his stern appearance and authoritative figure.

“We are venturing into Scotland, dear brother,” she hissed. “Ladylike or not, I will keep it on my person for protection.”

Reginald jerked his head toward the stern of the boat. “You will need no protection with all the men I have ordered to come with you.”

Katherine glanced at the group of soldiers. They were loyal men, but she had no doubt they did as her brother’s bidding out of fear.

“Always remember who you are,” he growled. “You may well have been forced to marry one of these Scottish savages. It doesn’t mean you have to become one of them.”

“I wish I were back in England,” she sighed.

“As do I, sister. But your marriage has been decreed by King Edward the first himself. You do not have a choice.”

“Yes,” Katherine hissed. “I am aware of that. Perhaps, if our family were not of such high noble standing, the situation would be different.”

Reginald glared down at her. “Do not berate the de Beaumont name, Katherine. Father did not work so hard and gain such influence with the crown for you to denounce it with such dismissiveness.”

Katherine huffed in frustration. That was all well and good, but it was not her brother being forced to marry.

“You ought to be proud of your heritage. Our family is renowned for its military prowess and loyalty to the crown. No matter what you feel, we have a duty towards the king. This union will strengthen his grip on Scotland and create a loyalist faction within the Scottish clans.”

“You mean control the Scots,” Katherine replied knowingly. “The king talks of fostering peace, but everyone knows his real agenda. He looks to secure influence and control Scottish resistance to English rule.”

Again, Reginald glared down at her. “It is well that no other can hear your treasonous tongue,” he spat.

“It is not treasonous if it is true,” she argued.

Reginald’s condescendence angered Katherine, but then, so did most men. They were all so very proud of their accomplishments, each one thinking themselves smarter than their counterpart. Of course, in their mind, women knew little, and were stupid beings who were only good for light conversation and continuing the family line.

Not Katherine. Astute and intelligent, she heard and understood things men thought were above her comprehension. While the opposite sex foolishly believed that they were smarter, Katherine quietly garnered information, snippets of conversations heard from one place or another.

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