by Paula Quinn
Aleysia crouched and had a closer look at Cainnech. His breathing was strong, his skin, wonderfully warm.
She followed him upward as Rauf scooped him up, thought better of it for a moment, and then agreed with his first decision and hefted his commander over his shoulder.
“Let’s get the hell oot of here,” Rauf ordered and led the way, slowly, and huffing at Cainnech’s size as he went.
“Come away with me, Julianna,” Aleysia heard William say.
“Are you crazed?”
Her heart broke at Julianna’s reply.
“Come with you and live among the Scots? They ravaged our entire town—”
“Not these men,” Aleysia told her. “They had no part in Berwick.”
Julianna looked as if she might be reconsidering but then shook her head. “You are a servant, Will. We were never meant to be together.”
“I am changing my life. Things will be better for me.”
“No,” Julianna said and turned her alabaster face away. “No. I am here until the man to whom my father promised me—a man of means—arrives. I will be married and have no more time for childish fancies.”
“Let’s go!” Rauf commanded.
Aleysia met William’s tortured gaze and urged him to come. He didn’t move.
“Julianna, I have loved you my whole life. I will never love anyone but you. Do not sentence me to such a lonely life.”
“Go, William.” A whisper, but it boomed throughout the graveyard.
Aleysia pulled his sleeve. “Come, we must go.”
This time, he followed.
They rested in the shade of an old oak until Cainnech opened his eyes. They didn’t have to wait long. Aleysia was relieved to see him well, even though she didn’t doubt he would be. She was also glad to have him to speak to because, with Rauf around, she couldn’t speak to William about him knowing the truth.
“She has no powers given to her by God,” Cainnech groaned sitting up. “She stuck me with something.” He looked over his hand and wrist for any sign of a wound. There was none.
“She gets her power from darker forces,” Rauf said while Aleysia took the commander’s hand to examine it.
Almost immediately, she quit thinking about the abbess, the other men with her, or anything else, and became excruciatingly aware of Cainnech’s large hand in hers. She studied his long, broad fingers, moving each with a delicate, curious touch of her own. She ran her fingertips across his rough palm and trembled at the power he possessed when he rubbed his thumb over her flesh.
“Or mayhap,” she said, noticing a tiny red spot on the inside of his wrist, “she cleverly coats a thin needle, or even an insect stinger with poison, and then stabs her victims.”
She pointed out the tiny wound to the rest of them and then scowled at Rauf when he suggested going back and killing the abbess.
Soon, they were back in the saddle and heading home. Rauf rode with William up ahead while Aleysia told Cainnech how the abbess had felled Giles when she and her brother had come for Elizabeth. “I could not carry him out of the abbey so I had to sit with him while he slept and the abbess kept watch. I never took my eyes off her, my sword always pointing at her. I had never killed anyone before and I certainly hadn’t wanted to kill an abbess, but he did awaken. And I knew you would as well.”
“Ye saved Rauf from eternal damnation,” Cainnech said, smiling. “And worse, Father Timothy.” She laughed with him, forgetting for a moment all that was lost today.
“I am sorry aboot Elizabeth,” Cainnech said, as if reading her thoughts.
She shook her head. “She made her choice. ’Tis William who tears at my heart. Julianna cares for him. I know it.”
“Dinna give the lad false hope,” he warned gently.
She nodded and sighed, knowing he was right. “I would like some words with him.”
Cainnech winked at her, and then rode ahead and sent William back to her.
Aleysia was sad that Elizabeth wouldn’t come with them but her heart broke for William. She knew he was angry with her. He had every right to be. She was Giles d’Argentan’s sister. Lismoor was hers. The traps and the arrows that killed his friends were hers.
“I was trying to protect my home,” she told William, riding up close to him.
“Does the commander know?” he asked softly, averting his gaze from hers.
She looked at Cainnech riding with Rauf ahead of them. “He knew the men would kill me if they knew. Father Timothy convinced him to speak to your king about it first.”
“You attacked us on your own,” he said after a pensive moment. “The villagers were away.”
She nodded.
He finally looked at her from beneath his soft curls. “You are very courageous.”
“Lismoor is my home. The villagers are my friends. As are you.”
His smile was slow and quite heart wrenching. “I see why he likes you.”
Her happiness faded, remembering what he’d left behind. “I’m sorry she didn’t come with us.”
He nodded, but said nothing else. He didn’t want to speak of her. Aleysia wouldn’t push.
“I did not know your family name is Stone,” she said with a lighter smile. “Do you know anything about them?”
He shook his head. “Stone is not my family name. The governor called me Will Stone because he paid a stone for me when I was a babe.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. What was she supposed to say to that? She wanted to weep, not speak.
Thankfully, Cainnech came riding back to them. “Will, we should speak.”
“I already spoke to Ale—Miss d’Argentan,” William told him.
“Aleysia,” she corrected with a smile.
“I understand why she did it, Commander. I will not tell the others.”
Cainnech smiled at him and then at her. “All right, go ride with Rauf fer a wee bit.”
William left without another word. Aleysia sniffled.
“Ye have a good heart, lass,” he told her with a deep-throated purr. “And ye are faithful to yer friends.”
She looked at him, no longer wondering how this Highland warrior had won her heart. She smiled, her spirits lifted. “Thank you. Those are good traits to have.”
He nodded, looking as enchanted by her as she was by him.
He pulled a pouch from his saddlebag and offered it to her. “Drink slowly,” he instructed when she accepted. “Take a wee sip.”
The Scot’s deadly whisky. She could use a wee sip. She held the spout to her lips and drank. Her hand shook as she handed him back his pouch. She could feel him smiling at her. She could no longer see him through the fireballs that had once been her eyes.
She held on to her reins as the flames passed, then looked at him. “’Tis potent.”
He laughed, a deep, rich, beautiful sound. “Aye, ’tis.” He took a small sip for himself and then replaced the pouch. “Tell me, how did ye become who ye are? What kind of life did ye have with no parents?”
“I had a happy life,” she told him as a wave of soothing warmth washed over her. “I feel warm.”
“’Tis the whisky,” he said, still smiling.
“At first, ’twas difficult, losing my parents and then the traveling with my nurse from Normandy to Cambridge. But I grew accustomed to things.”
He nodded, listening and keeping his horse at an even canter with hers.
“Giles left soon after I arrived to go jousting on the Continent. While he was away, I got myself into various sorts of trouble until my nurse could no longer care for me. I was sent to St. Peter’s for a year. Giles’ lands were seized by Edward I, and he was sent to Lismoor to be kept safely until further order. He brought me with him. ’Twas the longest time I had with him. After he was pardoned by Edward II, I saw much less of him.”
“Who raised ye?”
She shrugged. “The villagers, and the knights.”
His smile was wide, his gaze as warm as the whisky.
He made her forg
et that she’d lost a long-time friend and William had lost his beloved. He made her think of a different future. One with him in it.
Now, she just had to figure out a way to get him there. She thought of his past and the demons that haunted him. She rolled up her sleeves. She would drag him if she had to.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aleysia ran her hands down her emerald green silk kirtle. The snug fit accentuated her bosom, small waist, and hips. She had a wee bit of enticing to do.
“Now remember,” Mattie said, holding up her matching overgown. “Use caution around candles with these flaring sleeves.”
“I will try to remember,” Aleysia promised, stepping into the overgown as if it were a coat. It did not close all the way around and there was no train. They were too cumbersome. “Though ’tis difficult to think when I am around him.”
Mattie’s smile was every bit as dreamy as Aleysia’s when they faced each other in the candlelit solar. “He is very handsome. He reminds me of an older, harder version of William.”
Aye, there were times when William reminded her of Cainnech, in a certain way he turned his head, when he practiced with the others and the sunlight caught a glint of death and destruction in his eyes.
Something else about him tugged at her memory, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Poor William, and poor Mattie for being so enchanted by him.
“Oh, Mattie, how many times must I tell you?” she said as gently as she could. “William is in love with Julianna Feathers. She broke his heart yesterday. I fear ’tis going to take some time for him to forget her.” She didn’t tell her friend that she’d heard William tell his beloved that he would never love another.
“How much time do we have, Aleysia?” her friend asked with wide, worried blue eyes.
“I do not know,” she answered truthfully.
“Well, until then,” Mattie replied, back to smiling as she reached for a wide, gold embroidered belt. “I will not give up. If you could win the commander’s heart, then I can win William’s.”
“The commander is fond of me, Mattie,” she said, sucking in air when her friend wrapped the belt around her waist and yanked on the laces in the back. “But I am far from winning his heart.”
She couldn’t believe that she wanted to win it. She wasn’t sure she could. Or that she should. She might be betraying her brother, but she hadn’t seen Giles in years. It was the villagers and her knights that concerned her. What if they all reacted the way Elizabeth had?
And what if there was nothing to react to? The Highland commander hadn’t proclaimed his love for her. If she couldn’t break through his defenses completely, he would leave and she would never see him again. And he would take William with him.
She thought about these things while she combed her own hair. She left it free to fall in a cascade down her back.
She might not have much time to convince him. Of what? To stay? To defy how circumstances would have them feel and give in to something greater?
“Hmm,” Mattie said thoughtfully. “Which circlet should you wear tonight?”
“The gold with the emerald-encrusted glass,” Aleysia decided. “But I can do the rest myself. Go and prepare yourself in the gown I gave you. We will tell the men that we raided Lady de Bar’s trunks. You might not be able to win William’s poor heart yet, but you can look pleasing to the eye while you are practicing.”
They both giggled and then Aleysia watched her leave the solar. She was thankful that Mattie understood what she was feeling and didn’t hate her for it.
She placed her circlet on her head and adjusted it. Oh, was she wrong for caring for him? What was she to do about it if she was? She hadn’t seen him since they’d returned from the abbey and she missed being with him, hearing his voice, seeing him try not to smile and fail.
She hurried into her slippers and left the solar. She met Father Timothy on the way to the great hall.
“Ah, I was just on my way to yer door.” He greeted her with his usual kind smile. “Cainnech grows impatient fer ye in the great hall. When he sees ye, he will understand the delay. Ye look lovely, my dear.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and accepted his arm.
“It pleases my heart to see this change in Cainnech,” he remarked as they walked. “He returned from huntin’ this morn smilin’.”
“It pleases me, as well,” she admitted. How much should she tell the priest? He knew Cainnech better than anyone else. Perhaps he could help her reach his friend. “I do not hate him anymore.”
His smile softened. “I know.”
“In fact, I am coming to care for him.”
“Are ye?” He didn’t look surprised.
A thought occurred to her and she offered him a frantic look. “You do not think he knows, do you?”
He shook his head and patted her hand. “I can assure ye, my dear, he is completely unaware.”
“How do you know? What has he said?”
“Nothin’. But that is not unusual,” he muttered and then waved his hand in front of him as if he were trying to scatter those thoughts and get back on topic. “I know because he knows so little of love.”
“Has he…never loved a woman before?” she asked hesitantly.
“Nae. Nor has he been loved by one.”
She thought it remarkable, but then remembered that he spent most of his time fighting for Robert the Bruce—which he would likely be getting back to soon.
“I confess, Father, I do not know if I have time to help him battle his hatred.”
He stopped and set his lambent eyes on her. “My dear, the battle he fights is not hatred, ’tis love.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed and began walking slowly again. “’Twas hatred that took his kin from his life. But ’twas love that drove them from his memory, and the pain of love that came closest to making him lose his mind. He made himself ferget his family so that he could survive the life he had withoot them. He hasna loved, or even attempted to love anyone in the years I have known him. In fact, my dear, ’tis the only thing that frightens him.”
This was a whole new battle. Aleysia wasn’t sure she was prepared for it. “He loves you,” she argued hollowly.
A wistful shadow passed over his gaze. “As much as he is able, I imagine.”
Her heart thundered in her chest. What if he could never love, or if he continued to deny it? Why was she wasting her time? No, she couldn’t give up on him. It was too late for that. She cared for him. Besides, she’d never fled from a challenge before. She wouldn’t begin now. “Do you truly think I can break through all those defenses, Father?”
“Ye are the only lass I know with the courage to try.”
Aye. He was correct. He—
“Priest!” Cainnech stood at the other end of the corridor, blocking the torchlight. “Did I ask ye to fetch Aleysia or delay her?”
Aleysia widened her eyes on him and tightened her lips. How dare he bark at Father Timothy and treat her like a favored pet?
She straightened her circlet, pinched her silk skirts above her ankles, and strode toward him. “Just exactly who do you think you are?” He didn’t look like he was going to answer quickly enough, so she continued. “The next time you want me, come to me yourself. Or better yet,” she said, reaching him and tilting her head to look into his eyes, “learn to wait. I will not be rushed to please you.”
“Fergive me. What?” He blinked his gaze away from her snug gown and then seemed to catch his breath when he looked into her eyes.
He was utterly serious. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said. She wasn’t back to hating him for it just yet though. She had wanted to entice him, after all. He certainly looked enticed.
“Apologize to Father Timothy!” she demanded and waited for him to step aside and let her pass.
He moved out of her way and she proceeded toward the great hall. “Truthfully, Cainnech,” she said over her shoulder as she came to the small stairway, “just when I think you are
not so irritating, you go and shout at a man of God.”
She felt his eyes on her like a wolf that had just spotted its mate. And then he was there, behind her, bending his nose to the hair at the nape of her neck.
“Ye look ravishin’.” His voice was a deep-throated growl that made her knees nearly give out.
“What about your clear head?”
“I have already lost it.”
He stepped around her like liquid smoke. His eyes danced over her features in facets of blue and gray. “Ye are goin’ to gain much attention when ye go in there.”
“Oh?” she asked lightly, hoping it drove him mad. “Will it make you uncomfortable?”
He laughed, startling Farther Timothy behind them. “Why would it?”
“Why would you mention it?”
“To prepare ye.”
She walked up the steps and turned to stop him with a smile. “I’m already prepared. If any unwanted hands come near me tonight, I shall cut them off.”
He slanted his sensual mouth into a challenging half-smile. “With what, lass? Yer sharp tongue?”
She leaned down so he could hear her when she whispered, “A dagger. I found a few that your men missed in their search.”
His smile widened, his gaze roved over her boldly. “Where d’ye have it hidden, Aleysia? I see no imperfection.”
She didn’t answer but led the way into the great hall, letting him take his fill behind her. As she walked to her table, she paused to look around the crowded hall. She liked the ribaldry of the men, the sounds of their laughter and swearing, the clanking of their cups. There was wine, thanks to Rauf who purchased six jugs on the way home from Newton on the Moor.
He stood with William by the table. When they saw her they stared and smiled, along with the others, but all the men remained respectful as she sat on the bench.
She looked for Richard but didn’t see him.
Cainnech slid in beside her, and Father Timothy took his place to the right. Soon, the rest of the men joined them at the tables and shouted for the food to be served. They all came to a spluttering halt for the second time that night when Mattie stepped into the hall on the arm of Sir Richard. Why, even William, sitting at Aleysia’s left, turned to have an appreciative look.