An Oath Sworn (4 page)

Touched by his chagrin, she gave him a gentle smile. “I do, but it does not take away from your thoughtfulness.”

For a long moment he stared at her. Desire trickled through his gaze, then resignation. He stepped back. “Do nae take too long. Though we have seen nay one, ‘tis possible English knights are about.”

Though soft, his cloaked warning shattered the illusion of peace around her. Marie scanned the rugged hills framing the gentle setting with a wary eye. Though embraced by serenity, danger existed, a fact underscored by this day's carnage.

He pointed toward where a shallow ledge extended from the top of the knoll. “I will be over there, keeping watch for anything suspect.” With the stealth of a predator, he slipped into the woods and out of sight.

Thankful for his guard, she turned her attention to her disheveled state. With a grimace, she peeled off her stained garments and then stepped into the water, appreciating the cool slide after working through the rancid heat of the afternoon.

Taking a gulp of air, she dove deep. When Marie surfaced, she burst from the water, then swam with long, sure strokes toward shallow ground.

Halfway to shore, she tread water. She made out Colyne's outline as he stood on an outcrop overlooking the loch, which allowed him a clear view of the surrounding area as well.

Heat spread over her face. If he glanced in her direction, he would see her naked. Her body tingled with awareness, and the cool temperature of the water did little to douse the warmth sliding through her body.

Unsettled by the desire Colyne aroused, she swam toward shore. For the first time in her life she'd met a man who knew neither her title nor her role in life, and yet he'd offered her not only his protection but his friendship.

No tricks. No schemes designed to charm her into a marriage for personal gain, even when she refused to tell him of her reason for traveling to France.

Or was his easiness a cover to shield his own secrets? Did he believe if she viewed him as nonthreatening, she wouldn't question him further about the men who sought him?

On edge, she dove deep and then resurfaced. Exactly what was he hiding from her? What fate had befallen him to the point where men chased him with lethal intent?

Marie dismissed any thoughts of villainy on his part. Since he'd first awoken in the cave, he'd demonstrated over and again that he was a man who valued fairness. Somehow, for reasons he refused to share, he'd become embroiled in a dangerous situation.

As much as she wanted to believe he was loyal to Scotland's cause, without knowing for sure, in matters of trust she must proceed with caution.

“Alesia?”

Colyne's use of her second name was a blunt reminder of her deception. Neither could he discover her father was King Philip.

And if he did? Enticed by the promise of a royal tie and wealth, would greed flare in his eyes, as with most men when they learned of her station? Or would respect and honor remain there instead?

Marie hated her doubts, but life had taught her to be wary of men. Except for her maid and the knights assigned to guard her, she lived alone in a coastal village, far from her father and the court crowded with false smiles given only for self-gain.

She preferred her simple life in a small house by the sea, found satisfaction in working alongside the healer to aid those with simple means.

Until she'd met Colyne.

Now, an emptiness she'd never experienced unraveled inside. He made her want, not only physically but with a yearning to share more than a few days of her life with him.

“Alesia?” Colyne called again.

Frustrated with the unwanted emotions he made her feel, she swam until her feet brushed against the smoothed rock. “I am going to wash out my clothes,” she said, thankful for the distance. “ 'Twill take but a trice.”

“Nay, lass. I have set a clean gown behind the rocks near where you entered. It was spared from the fire, so I brought it along.”

She glanced toward where his voice echoed, surprised by his kind gesture. How many men would have done the same?

Or cared?

Not that it mattered. They each had their own lives. Even if she longed to know more about him, to grow closer, time, as fate, stood against them.

C
olyne stood near the edge of the cliff, the air alive with the vibrant song of crickets and a gentle breeze sliding across the land. Yet he found little peace.

A short distance away, embraced by moonbeams, Alesia stared at the sky. From her solemn expression, she too was lost in thought. How could she nae be? The horrors of finding Stephano and his family murdered earlier this day haunted him still. Bedamned the English bastards.

“Colyne?”

The rawness within her voice nursed his guilt. He should have ensured she'd remained shielded from the carnage the English troops had left in their wake. Though horrified by the gruesome sight, she'd lent a hand, helping to bury those he'd loved.

“You are tired. Go to sleep. I shall keep watch.” His voice broke at the last. With a hard swallow, he stared at the hills of the Highlands he so loved, a home he would die to keep free.

The light scrape of slippers upon stone alerted him of her approach.

“I have made a bed for you against the cliff.” A part of him yearned to offer her succor, while another wished to seek comfort in her arms. He frowned. Either would be an unwise decision. Secrets shadowed her eyes, guided her response when he asked questions of her past, or of those who pursued her.

She halted at his side.

Her warm scent of woman and lavender melded with the freshness of the night, and his body hummed with awareness. God help him, he wanted her. But to turn to her now, to take advantage of the loss still haunting them both would be wrong. “You need to try and rest.”

A long moment passed. “I am sorry for your loss. It is hard to lose someone you love.”

“My thanks.” Through half-lowered lashes, Colyne watched her kneel and pick up a weathered rock.

On an unsteady sigh, Alesia stood. She rolled the stone within her palm. “Will you tell me about the girl who owned the doll?” she asked, her question unraveling in a fragile whisper.

Moonlight shimmered through tears trailing down her cheeks.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I only wanted to talk to you, to try to find a way to help you, as I know the family we buried were your friends. Sometimes it eases the pain when you . . . But I know you want to be alone.” She turned and cast the stone.

A splash echoed from below.

A sword's wrath. Though he grieved for those he loved, she hurt and needed his strength. And damn the circumstance, he would be there for her. “Alesia?”

With a sob, she stepped into the circle of his arms.

Colyne drew her close, finding solace in her touch, hope in her presence, and a rightness he'd never expected, more so than he'd ever experienced with Elizabet. Confused, he held her, unsure what to make of this realization.

Her tears dampened his neck.

“ 'Tis fine, lass.” Murmuring words to calm her in Gaelic, he cradled her against his chest until her sobs stilled, her breathing calmed, and tremors nay longer shook her body. He stroked her hair, unbound from its earlier braid.

“Her name was Katherine.” The happiness of the child's memories flooded him. “A wee lass. Hair black as midnight. Green eyes that danced with devilment. But a heart—” his throat tightened—“a heart filled with love.”

Colyne struggled against the fact that he would never again hear the wee one's laughter. Or watch her eyes widen with childish delight as he told her tales of the fairies who would whisk away even the stoutest man if he held their fancy.

“Whenever I would visit their home,” he continued, “I would hear of her latest antics. Once when I rode up 'twas to find the lass lodged within a rowan tree and refusing to come down. When I asked why, she claimed to have stolen a tart. In her most serious tone, Katherine made me swear her location to secrecy.”

Alesia sniffed. “What happened?”

“ 'Twould seem the lass had stolen nae one but the entire lot. Before long, her stomach began to ache and she ended up calling for me to help her down.” A sad warmth embraced his heart as the poignant memory replayed in his mind. “I remember her vowing to her da to never be stealing so many tarts again. But, when he was nae looking, she winked at me, and I could tell her mind already had strayed in that direction.”

Alesia looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes hazed with sorrow. “A very special girl.”

His hand stilled. “She was.” He lifted a lock of Alesia's honey-colored hair and secured it behind her ear. “I always wished one day, when I was blessed with a child, that she would have the same spirit.” Emotion swelled in his throat as he shook his head. “I canna believe she is gone.”

“At times there is no reasoning for the why of it,” she said with a rough whisper. “Sadly, life's cruelty touches us all.”

The chirp of crickets spilled through the night as she lifted her head and surveyed the land, slowly consumed by darkness. She turned.

The solemn appeal of her expression he expected but nae the glimmer of hope.

“You will always have her.” Alesia pressed her palm over his heart. “Here.”

Colyne laced his fingers through her own, humbled by her strength, amazed at her belief in goodness when her own journey had delivered her into her own personal nightmare.

“After a while the pain will give way to the warmth of memories, to times when laughter will fill your life.” She paused, her gaze intense. “Life is too short to dwell upon what we cannot change.”

“What challenges have you endured to gift you with such wisdom, my lady?” he asked, unsure how to deal with the feelings she stirred within him.

“Naught more than you yourself have faced.”

Her reply perplexed him. As a noble as well as a knight, he'd witnessed more than his share of death and the tragedies wrought of war. With each brutality, his mind had dulled in frustrated acceptance that however much he tried, he could save but so many.

Alesia was obviously a woman of rank. Imagining her protected within castle walls, he doubted her ability to understand the tragedies of war. Or the wisdom garnered. Yet her sage words, and the lingering sadness in her eyes, were traits he'd witnessed only in people who'd suffered greatly.

Another contradiction.

He wanted to press her to reveal her secret. Except he refused to risk her withdrawal. “You are weary,” Colyne said, reluctant to release her but aware he must.

“As if you are rested?” she said in quiet challenge.

What a lass. She'd argue with a saint. He couldna help but admire her spirit. “Go.” He released her hand. “Try to sleep. I will be standing guard.”

“You have not answered my question.”

A fleeting smile grazed his mouth. “Have I mentioned you are stubborn?”

Her lower lip trembled, reminding him all too clearly of her fragile state.

“Could you sleep this night?”

At her solemn words, the lightness of the moment faded. “Nay.”

“Neither can I.” She gestured toward the bed of leaves. “If I lay there, I will only stare at the sky and think of everything. Could I stay beside you this night? I . . .”

Need you
, his mind finished. She didna say the words, but in the moonlight, her eyes whispered the request.

“Please?” she whispered.

Tenderness curled through him. If for only a few hours, being with her would help him as well as he battled the painful memories of this day. He gestured toward an area of smooth rock. “Bring your blanket over there. You can sit with me.”

 

Thankful he'd granted her request, Marie retrieved the tattered wool throw. When she returned, Colyne had settled into a sitting position that allowed him a clear view of their surroundings.

At her approach, he motioned for her to sit before him.

She spread the blanket on the stone and then sat. As she settled against the solid warmth of his chest, the steady beat of his heart pulsed against her.

Drawing a deep breath, she stared into the sky. A trace of clouds edged the western horizon, and the moon, outlined by a ring of silver, hung over the treetops. “When I gaze into the heavens and see such beauty, it makes me wonder how anyone can revel in hatred.”

“Too often people focus only on their own gain, nae on what is right.”

The soft rumble of his voice was a balm to her bruised nerves. She nodded, thinking of the strife Scotland faced. “As King Edward?” He stiffened against her, and she knew she'd hit upon a concern uppermost in his mind.

“He believes his harsh actions are warranted,” Colyne said, anger pouring through his words.

“Though I disagree with his method, he is overlord of Scotland.”

“Earned through treachery,” he spat. “After Margaret, the Maid of Norway's death, King Edward stated his good intent was in helping Scotland choose a king during their time of unrest. But, as many Scots suspected, his offer was naught but a guise in his efforts to claim Scotland.”

Marie hesitated. She couldn't reveal her royal connection, but she needed to warn Colyne that King Edward would stop at nothing to seize a country he already considered his. “He is a determined man,” she said carefully, “and will not halt his aggressions until all of Scotland has thrown down its weapons and sworn fealty to him.”

His body tensed. “He can try.”

“I know.” The slaughter they'd witnessed today was but a taste of the butchery to come if the English king was allowed to release his full wrath upon Scotland.

“With France's backing,” Colyne continued, “we have nae only the means but another force for King Edward to face.”

By the grace of Mary, he had no idea of how precarious Scotland's ties were at this moment with France. If Renard had reached her father and convinced him that the Scottish rebels were behind her abduction, her father may have already severed the much-needed support for Scotland's bid for freedom. “You are cold?”

She frowned. “What?”

“You are shivering.” Colyne wrapped the woven wool over her shoulders, then slid his arm around her waist and drew her closer. “Better?”

Until she spoke with her father, naught could make the situation better. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He pointed east. “Over there.”

A flicker of white raced through the sky and then faded into the night.

His warm breath sifted across her cheek. “They say when a star falls, 'tis a gift bestowed from the fairies.”

Emotions tightened her throat and she nodded, unable to speak.

Silence stretched between them, his concern all but spoken in the whispers of the night.

She nestled against his muscled chest and laid her cheek against the hollow of his throat. “I shall try to rest.”

“Aye, you do that.”

Weary, Marie struggled to sleep. But only after hours of tormented thoughts about what would happen if she failed to reach her father, and with Colyne still holding her safe in his arms, did she finally fall into an exhausted slumber.

 

A battering of cool wind against his face woke Colyne. He grimaced. Somewhere during the dawn, he'd drifted off. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he took in the angry clouds rolling overhead. The gentle wind of last night now railed across the landscape with a harsh slap.

A storm was moving in.

Alesia shifted in his arms. Her thick mane of honey-colored hair framed her face and her lips were turned upward in a soft pout.

A yearning curled tight inside. What would it be like if he kissed her?

Thunder rolled in the heavens.

He grimaced as he scanned the darkening sky. It appeared a higher authority than he would remind him of the folly of such a thought.

Concern edged through him at the dark circles visible beneath her eyes. However much he hated to wake her, they needed to put as many miles between them and their pursuers as possible. And, from the look of the black clouds, find shelter before the storm broke.

“Alesia?”

Her lips twitched into an endearing frown.

“Alesia,” he whispered again.

She continued to sleep.

“Ah, lass. What am I going to do with you?” he whispered, charmed and a wee bit envious that she'd fallen into such a deep slumber. Many a battle ago, he'd nurtured the ability to awaken at the lightest sound.

The first drop of rain splattered against his brow. Then another.

Colyne squinted toward the threatening sky and then gave her a gentle shake. “Time to be up with you.”

Moss-green eyes fluttered open and stared up at him in sleepy confusion.

A pure shot of lust pumped through his blood.

Another splatter of rain hit his hand.

On a muttered curse, Colyne gently set her away from himself and stood, his body sluggish from lack of sleep. “We need to find shelter before it begins to pour.”

“What?” she asked, her voice groggy. She started to stand and stumbled.

He caught her shoulders. Warm rain had started to fall, soaking her garb and outlining Alesia's full breasts. He gritted his teeth. He had to think of something else. The miles they must travel this day. The misery of trudging in this damp and treacherous weather. The men who chased them.

Nay matter how hard he tried, his every thought came back to wanting her. “Wake up now, lass.”

A tired smile curved her mouth. “I am awake.” As if a trick of the fairies, desire wove through her gaze in a devastating slide.

He swallowed hard, his hands trembling from the effort to keep his distance. If she kept looking at him that way . . . God help him, he wasna a saint. “Can you stand alone?” She nodded, but he didna let her go.