An Oath Sworn (12 page)

M
arie kept pace with Colyne as he wove through the darkened streets. At the next corner he drew to a halt, peered down the alley. After a moment, he faced her, his brows drawn in a worried frown. He waved her to follow and started forward.

A feeble light spilled ahead of them, weaving into the dismal shadows that engulfed the streets. Each darkened passageway held the promise of danger.

Or possible death.

A shiver rippled through her. She couldn't allow anyone to recognize her; neither could she risk slipping away from Colyne and traveling through this dangerous part of the city alone. Until she met whoever he led her to, neither would she know whether her identity had been compromised. Fighting for calm, Marie glanced at Colyne. He reminded her of her father, of his love for an unpopular cause, and then of his proving how an unthinkable goal could be achieved. In his offering support to the Scots, her father dared to confront King Edward, aware his actions could incite war. Like Colyne, he valued freedom.

Surely her father would find favor in this courageous Scot. She exhaled a rough sigh. Unless he learned she had given Colyne her innocence.

And what of her betrothed? She'd convinced herself that Gaston de Croix wouldn't care if she came to him unchaste. But what if she'd erred? What if, furious at her unfaithfulness, her betrothed insisted in her incarceration in a nunnery for the rest of her life? Or would he demand Colyne's death? Icy fear cut through her. No, whatever restitution necessary would be hers alone to bear.

Colyne pulled her deeper into the shadows, and then halted. He gently squeezed her hand. “My regrets for the numerous alleys we have traveled, but I believe this is the safest route.” With a gentle caress, he brushed his mouth against hers, then broke the kiss. “You are trembling.”

“I am tired.” Not a lie, but far from the truth.

With a sigh, he brushed back a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “We must continue.”

He led her through the alley, but the aged walls blurred through her tears. Worse, because she'd withheld her identity, Colyne hadn't a clue as to the perilous boundaries he had crossed.

 

As they stole past a corner illuminated by an oil lamp, Colyne caught a glimpse of Alesia's face. Her pallor worried him. If the bishop's report hadna indicated the strong presence of the English duke's knights within Glasgow, he would have accepted Robert's offer to use his coach.

But he'd nae risk a connection between him and the bishop. Such a link would end his ability to transmit vital communications for the rebel cause. That didna ease his guilt at how his ties kept him from giving Alesia respite from her exhaustion.

The echo of bells tolled nearby.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Look ahead.”

In the decaying light, an enormous structure rose from the earth. With hard angles of stone that arched to frame windows of elaborate design, the architecture appeared as if crafted for royalty.

“Glasgow Cathedral,” she breathed. “That is our destination?”

“Aye.” The relief in her expression eased his misgivings of her having lied about being a missionary. A muscle worked in his jaw as Colyne scanned the streets. He hated his doubts. Why couldna he erase his suspicions?

Confident nay one was watching them, he guided her toward the rear of the church. Clusters of vines thick with leaves shielded them as they hurried down a path of stone steps embraced by moss that curved to a thick oak door.

He rapped twice on the solid wood. Paused. Then knocked again three times in rapid succession.

Soundlessly, the door swung open. Robert's shadowed form filled the somber light. He gestured them inside. “Hurry.”

After Alesia entered, Colyne followed and secured the door. The coolness of the earth below was a sharp contrast to the warmth outside. Robert gave her hooded form a cursory glance before meeting Colyne's gaze. “You were gone overly long. I grew worried.”

Colyne shoved back his hood. “It was necessary to evade the knights searching for us.”

The bishop gave an understanding nod. “I suspected as much. Though I doubt anyone will visit the cathedral's cellars at this late hour, we must nae tarry. Follow me.” He lifted a taper, turned, and started down a narrow hall.

The scent of age, oak, and myrrh surrounded them as they moved deeper inside. Wine casks stacked on either side boasted of the cathedral's wealth. Ahead, the hallway curved and then opened to a set of sturdy steps that led to the chamber Colyne had visited hours before.

Instead of starting up, the bishop moved behind the stairs to a hidden door. He motioned them inside.

Colyne noted Alesia's surprise as she entered the concealed chamber. Several candles on a small table illuminated the room, its musty scent confirmation of its infrequent use. The dirt floor lay bare, the walls were unadorned, and a large cloth covered an indiscernible heap in the corner. The room also contained a bed and food stores.

He remembered the first time Robert had brought him here. Carried him, he corrected. He'd had the misfortune of running across drunken English troops. Under their interpretation of King Edward's orders to quell any Scot they met into submission, he'd almost died. Safe from prying eyes, he'd recuperated in this room.

Alesia pushed back her hood as she turned to Colyne, her gaze apprehensive.

He took her hand. “My Lord Bishop, may I present to you Lady Alesia, the noblewoman I spoke of earlier.”

Robert gave her a courtly bow. “My lady.”

“Lady Alesia, may I introduce you to My Lord Robert Wishart, Bishop of Glasgow.” Because Alesia was a missionary, Colyne had expected recognition once he'd revealed Robert's name, but nae fear. Why would she be afraid? It made nay sense. On a religious journey, wouldna she find relief in the sanctity of the church? Or at least comfort in landing beneath the bishop's protection?

“My Lord Bishop, 'tis an honor,” she replied.

Her mien again struck Colyne as regal, her voice tailored in cool discretion, as if she was used to meeting dignitaries. Which, as a prominent noble's daughter, she would be. So why did he sense something far more important was being played out before him?

The bishop's brows furrowed deeply as he studied her. “Have we met before?”

Alesia paled.
“Non.”

Colyne believed her, more because his friend would never forget a woman presented to him within the ranks of nobility, especially one as beautiful as Alesia. So why would the bishop's presence unnerve her?

“I need to speak with you in private. I have important news that canna wait,” Robert said, cutting through Colyne's musings.

“I will be there in a moment,” he replied, frustrated. Instead of finding answers about her, he encountered more questions.

The bishop swept a discerning glance toward Alesia and then left. Her breath unsteady, she stared at the door as it settled in his wake, her fingers clenched tight.

Confused, Colyne watched her. Did she fear that Robert had recognized her?
Demand the truth!
Jaw tight, he glanced toward the door. A sword's wrath, Robert was waiting for him. He leveled his gaze on her.

Her eyes flared and then grew cold.

She'd gained a brief reprieve. From her unease, they both knew it. On a silent curse, he strode to the entry, jerked the door open, and looked back. “I shall return soon.”

With a frustrated sigh, he secured the aged panel. As he started up the stairs, he found Robert waiting for him at the top. Colyne paused. “Do you know her?”

The bishop studied Colyne with solemn regard. “I have never met Lady Alesia before. Has she told you her full name?”

The breath he'd held rushed out between clenched teeth. “When I asked, she refused.” Nor had she told him after she'd given herself to him in the most intimate of ways.

“Has she spoken of from which region of France she hails?” At Colyne's hesitation, Robert's brows lifted. “You do nae even know that?”

“We have traveled hard,” he replied, embarrassed he could have made love to her and nae known the location of her home, much less her full name.

“You carry the writ,” Robert said with a frown. “ 'Tis nae like you to jeopardize a document of import by entertaining the presence of a stranger, much less risk offering one escort through the Highlands.”

Colyne nodded, heat slashing his cheeks at the more than deserving chastisement. With Alesia, he'd acted like a green lad tasting his first kiss. “As I escaped Renard's men, I was hit in the shoulder with an arrow. Alesia found me unconscious and saved my life. I couldna leave her. Nae to mention that after the attack on her party, she needed comfort and understanding, nae for me to pry.”

“Given the situation, I can understand your helping her and respecting her privacy. But after the days you have traveled together, especially considering the importance of your reaching King Philip, I would have expected you to take every precaution in learning as much about her as possible. Dangers often come from the seemingly innocent.”

He tensed. “You believe Alesia is a threat?”

“Nae to your mission.” The bishop worried the cross he wore around his neck. “ 'Tis nae like you to leave so much unanswered.”

He agreed. Never before had he allowed his emotions to overrule his common sense. A reason he was sought out for the most difficult missions for the rebels, and why he was often called upon by Robert Bruce, when the Guardian of Scotland needed a man he could trust. Shamefully, since he'd met Alesia, 'twould seem his logic had fled.

“But then,” the bishop continued, his voice gentling, “except for Elizabet, I have never seen you so entranced by a woman.”

Caught off guard, Colyne stared at his friend. “What do you mean?”

Robert laid his hand on Colyne's shoulder. “We have known each other too many years for me nae to see the warmth within your eyes when you look upon her. But I advise you, before you become involved with the lass, learn more about her, I would. . . .” He studied Colyne and then dropped his hand. “Or am I already too late?”

Memories of himself and Alesia making love flooded Colyne's mind. “I care for her deeply.”

“You know little about her,” Robert cautioned.

“Mayhap, but I have learned she is genuine and caring.” He paused. “After I have delivered the writ, I wish to return for her.”

A frown deepened the bishop's brow. “Do you think that is wise?”

“Nay,” Colyne replied with complete honestly. Besides her betrothal, she didna trust him enough to tell him the secret she hid, both solid reasons why he should let her go. “But I care too much about Alesia to forget her.”

“From one friend to another, all I ask is that you weigh your future decisions in her regard with care before you act. I would nae wish to see either of you hurt.”

“What news have you learned?” Colyne asked, changing the subject, understanding Robert's concern.

“I have received word that three ships are moored at the pier, one of them the Kincaid. Your friend, Lord Thomas Kirketon, Earl of Logan, is the captain.”

Relief swept him. “Which will be my transport to France.” Once his childhood friend learned of his destination, along with the reason, he would offer him passage.

“He is planning to sail to Portugal on the morning tide.”

An urgent pull flooded Colyne. “Then I shall leave for the docks immediately.”

“What of Lady Alesia?”

“I ask that you keep her in your care until you can secure passage for her to sail to France. I refuse to subject a lady to the Kincaid. Though Logan sails for profit, we both know that more often than nae, he and his men scour the seas to relieve the English ships of supplies meant for their troops.”

Robert nodded. “I am pleased Logan's loyalties lie with the Scots. With regards to Alesia, I will ensure she is kept safe.”

With the time to leave her having arrived, he found himself far from ready to depart. “My thanks for watching over her.” Sadness lurked in his friend's eyes, and Colyne understood. He placed his hand on the bishop's shoulder. “My heart is heavy at the loss of Douglas. I still grieve.”

“He is in God's hands, a thought that offers me great comfort.” Robert released a sad sigh. “Take care, my friend. May God bless your path and see you safe.”

“And you as well.” Silence embraced Colyne as he descended the steps to the cellar, the musty air thick and rich with the aromas of age and earth. He moved behind the stairs and opened the door.

“Who goes there?”

The rich softness of Alesia's voice ignited a need for her that far exceeded the physical. He frowned. Alesia had made it clear she didna want him to speak with her father. Should he respect her wishes and, when he left, never see her again?

Could he?

“ 'Tis Colyne.” He entered. Need slammed him as he saw her sitting on the bed. Embraced in the glow of several candles, Alesia radiated beauty. Everything he wanted in a woman.

And more.

Colyne closed the door with a steadying breath. “A ship is in port and preparing to sail on the morrow. I must go.”

Panic flashed in her eyes and then shifted to hope as she stood. Her shoulders relaxed. “We are leaving?”

His heart ached at their parting, at the possibility that he might never see her again.

Then he thought of her betrothed.

A man she'd vowed to wed but didna love.

When he spoke with her father, could he convince the powerful lord to release Alesia from an unhappy future? And if her father agreed, he would expect Colyne to offer for her hand.