Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me

by Lana Williams

  The gatehouse door was visible in the dim moonlight and her heart pounded at the idea of entering, yet she’d come too far to turn back now.

  Suddenly, her arm was caught in a vice-like grip. She gasped in fright as a tall form emerged from what she had thought was a shadow along the wall.

  “Trying to escape again?” The familiar deep voice eased her panic.

  “Nay, I am trying to find you.” She put a hand to her heart, hoping to slow its pounding. “You scared me half to death.”

  With a glance around the area, William drew her into the shadows. “Is something amiss?”

  Cristiana felt heat fill her cheeks and was grateful for the darkness. She hadn’t thought of an excuse she might give for seeking him out. “I merely wanted to speak with you before you left.”

  William waited, and Cristiana realized he expected her to have a specific topic to discuss.

  “I didn’t have a chance to thank you for seeing me here safely,” she said. “I wanted you to know how much I appreciate it.”

  He eased his grip on her arm and ran his fingers along her sleeve, sending a flutter of longing through her. She could just make out his smile in the dim light.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She chuckled. “I do mean it despite what you think.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “Nay.” She tipped her chin down, suddenly shy.

  “I shall miss you while I’m gone.”

  That brought her head up quickly. “You will?” The flutter turned into a flurry and she felt like a young girl, uncertain of what to say or do.

  “I enjoy your company, Cristiana.” The seriousness of his tone lent truth to his words.

  “And I yours.” She sighed, more upset at the idea of him leaving than she’d realized. “I will miss you as well. I pray your journey is quick and that you return safely.”

  William stepped closer. “And I hope you find what you’re looking for here.”

  “I wish I knew what that was.” Feeling lost, she took his hand in hers, touching the ridges of his calloused palm.

  “Sometimes, we simply have to keep turning over rocks until we find it.” He linked his fingers through hers and drew her hand to his lips. “Sometimes, we find something completely unexpected.”

  He murmured the words against her hand, sending shivers down her spine. She wished it was light outside so she could see his eyes and get a glimpse of what he meant. “You are a wise man, William.”

  “And you are a beautiful woman.”

  He leaned toward her ever so slightly, ever so slowly, making her heart melt.

  She stretched up just as slowly, letting anticipation fill her until at last their lips met. The kiss was tender and gentle, much like her feelings for this man. His lips clung to hers, drawing out the sensation for a long moment.

  The breadth of his shoulders beneath her hands reminded her how strong he was, of the power he had. Yet he held her so carefully, so gently.

  She would have been happy to stay in his arms forever, his lips on hers, with these lovely feelings floating through her. But all too soon, he drew back to look at her.

  “I look forward to seeing you upon my return,” he whispered.

  “And I you. Perhaps by then, I will have some of the answers I seek.”

  “Cristiana, you must be careful. The bishop is a powerful man and those around him are loyal. Do not anger him.”

  “I know. I will try not to. I do not like the authority he has over me nor would my mother.”

  “Why didn’t she care for the bishop?”

  Cristiana sighed, reluctant to speak of the topic that hurt her so much. “Though we were very close, there were many things she never explained. She had secrets, things she would never speak of. Things that caused her to be extremely happy one moment, then terribly sad later.”

  “Including the identity of your father.”

  “Indeed.”

  “That doesn’t mean that she didn’t love you.”

  Her breath caught as she realized that was exactly what she’d been feeling. That she and her mother hadn’t been close at all.

  “We all have secrets,” he continued. “Some of them are better left unspoken, don’t you think? Especially when it comes to our family.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” She wondered what his secrets were, what he couldn’t reveal to his family. Did they keep him awake at night too?

  “As much as I hate to say it, we had best return you to your chamber before your absence is noted.”

  Cristiana studied him, the dark shadows creating an intimacy that tempted her to do and say things she wouldn’t have otherwise. “I wish I could accompany you on the morrow.”

  “Surely you’re tired of sleeping along the road.”

  “Of that, you are right,” she said with a soft laugh. “But it seems like life would be much simpler if I wasn’t remaining with the bishop. If vengeance didn’t fill my heart.”

  “It doesn’t have to. Could you let it go?”

  “I tried after Abbess Catherine spoke with me about forgiving and forgetting, but I cannot stop until I find out what happened to my mother and why.”

  “I understand. As I said, vengeance runs deep in my family. I only ask that you please be careful.” He lifted her hand to his lips once more to press a kiss on the back of her hand. “Now let me see you inside.”

  “Nay. I can find my way back.”

  “Are you certain?” At her nod, he tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her to the courtyard door. He kissed her again, making her heart sigh. “I look forward to seeing you upon my return,” he said.

  “As do I.”

  “Promise me you’ll take care.” He laid his hand along her cheek and she leaned against it, appreciating his warmth. “Revenge is not an easy path. Tread cautiously.”

  “And you as well, William. God speed,” she whispered, loath to say goodbye.

  She watched as he faded into the shadows, her smile fading as well. As she made her way back inside the manor, she told herself this was for the best. She was becoming too dependent on William. But that didn’t make her heart feel any better.

  Her breath caught as she realized someone stood on the stairs, watching her.

  “Lady Cristiana, what a surprise.”

  “Oh my! You startled me.” She drew a slow breath in an attempt to calm herself. Though she’d been introduced to him earlier, she couldn’t think of his name.

  The priest descended the stairs, drawing closer. “What has you up so late?”

  “I couldn’t sleep so thought I’d get some fresh air.” She had no intention of telling him the truth. “What of you?”

  He smiled, but it was not a friendly one. “I rarely sleep.”

  That was good to know. Wandering about the manor at night would not be a wise idea. “How terrible for you.”

  He stood on the same stair as she, his proximity making her nervous. “At times I rather enjoy it. I have discovered the most interesting things while everyone else sleeps.”

  Shivers came over her as she imagined him standing over her bed, watching her slumber. She needed to see if there was a lock on her chamber door. “I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “Father Markus.”

  “Of course.” How could she have forgotten? He was the one person she’d met whom she hadn’t liked. “Good night, Father Markus.”

  “Sweet dreams, Lady Cristiana,” he said with that unpleasant smile.

  Surely he hadn’t seen her with William, had he? With one last glance at the priest and an uneasy feeling crawling down her spine, she hurried up the stairs. Did he serve as some sort of spy to the bishop? In truth, he seemed more suited for that than to lead mass or comfort those in need.

  Whatever his purpose here, Cristiana had no intention of meeting him again in the middle of the night.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Lady Cristiana, ’tis time to wake,” Sister Mawde said as she bustled abo
ut the chamber, opening the shutters to the morning light. “We must not be lazy our first day here. Let us dress and go to mass.”

  Cristiana sighed, wondering what the day would bring. William and Henry would be gone by now. Her heart squeezed at the thought of not seeing William. She missed him already. Resolved, she pushed aside her sadness, reminding herself that she needed to stay focused.

  With luck, this day would bring her closer to discovering what had happened to her mother. The first step was finding out if she’d ever ventured here.

  She rose and washed her face then searched for the kirtle in which she’d traveled to Longsbury. It was nowhere to be found. Perplexed, she asked Sister Mawde but the nun was of no assistance. As she stood there uncertain what to do, a knock sounded at the door.

  Sister Mawde opened it to reveal several servants carting a wooden tub and buckets of steaming water. Another maid servant held kirtles and other assorted garments.

  “Good morn,” one of the maids said. “The bishop thought you might like a bath. He also directed me to deliver these and ask if you needed any assistance.”

  “How generous of him,” Sister Mawde exclaimed as she touched the soft fabric of one of the gowns.

  Cristiana was taken aback at the number of them. The bishop’s generosity made her uncomfortable. She had no desire to feel beholden to him. Yet she was left with no choice since her own clothing had been taken away.

  Soon, bathed and dressed for the day, she and Sister Mawde followed one of the maids to a small chapel in the manor for mass. Bishop Duval didn’t make an appearance which surprised Cristiana but no one commented on his absence. The mass was led by a priest who Cristiana had not yet met.

  When her stomach grumbled, echoing in the nave, he offered her a smile. Perhaps his was doing the same. Luckily for her and her stomach, the service was soon finished.

  “You must be Lady Cristiana,” he said, approaching her as Sister Mawde and the others filed out.

  “I am.”

  “We welcome you here, my lady. Bishop Duval has been most anxious for your arrival.” He was tall, near her mother’s age, with a full head of dark hair and eyes so warm and friendly that one nearly overlooked his large nose.

  Cristiana paused, uncertain what polite response she could offer.

  “I’m Father Charles. I’ve worked with the bishop for many years, long before he came here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Indeed. He is a man of vision and purpose. What used to be a simple church in a small village will now be a grand cathedral. Our reach will be far and wide.”

  “The bishop must have great resources for such grand renovations.” Cristiana couldn’t help but wonder what the source of the money was to pay for the changes. From what she’d seen in her small village, churches were always in need of funds.

  “Each time it seems the money has dried up, he manages to find a new donor,” Father Charles said with a smile.

  “That is an excellent talent when one is trying to expand a cathedral.”

  Father Charles chuckled. “Indeed it is.” He gestured for her to precede him and she complied, hoping he was moving toward the hall as her stomach had not relented. “I understand you recently lost your mother. I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  “It has been difficult. I miss her dearly.” Cristiana couldn’t help the emotion in her voice.

  “Losing loved ones is never easy.” He stopped and took her hand. “Please let me know if you’d like to speak of her. That often brings us comfort.”

  “Did you know her?” Something in his voice made her wonder.

  “Me? I—I don’t believe so.”

  She held his gaze, measuring the green depths. After a long moment, she shook off her doubt. She couldn’t suspect everyone here of hiding something from her. If he said he hadn’t known her, he must not have. She had no reason to believe otherwise, especially not when this man appeared to be kind and trustworthy. The road before her would not be an easy one, and she needed all the support she could get. Perhaps that could start with Father Charles.

  A faint heat came from his hand which still gripped hers. She held it a moment longer than necessary, trying to determine the cause. Though it seemed to be nothing more than some pain in his joints that most likely came with age, she decided to give it a good shove to release it.

  Not wanting him to realize what she was about, she dropped her gaze and murmured, “Would you mind saying a prayer for her?”

  “Certainly. I would be pleased to, my lady.”

  She glanced up to see he had closed his eyes, just as she had hoped.

  “Dear Father,” he began as she gathered her thoughts, drew her breath, and pulled.

  Already the illness holding in his bones loosened. Again she breathed deeply and drew it in as he spoke his prayer. This time, she held it a little longer and felt the pain release, flooding her briefly. Her knuckles ached then her shoulder before the pain slowly faded.

  “Amen,” Father Charles said and opened his eyes.

  She smiled, her fatigue minor compared to the warmth in his green eyes. “Thank you, Father. That was very kind of you.”

  “My pleasure.” He straightened slightly then eased completely upright.

  “Is anything amiss?” she asked, wondering if he noticed the difference.

  “Nothing at all. In fact, I feel wonderful.” His eyes narrowed as he shifted his body. He seemed to realize something had changed but wasn’t sure of what. “Apparently praying with you aided me as well,” he said with a laugh.

  Cristiana smiled, glad to have helped him. On days like this, she was grateful for her ability. If she could heal subtly with no one the wiser, with no suspicions roused or people gathering around her to stare and point, she would gladly do so. But those with minor illnesses were not the ones who sought her out. Most of those would heal on their own without her assistance.

  Somehow she knew the bishop would expect amazing feats from her. As worry settled over her, Father Charles offered her his arm.

  “Bless you, my child. Let us go break our fast and see what God has in store for us this day.”

  Her worry eased as she realized she had at least one friend here. She needed only to focus each day on her goal of discovering what had happened to her mother. Surely learning more about the bishop would aid her.

  “Tell me about Bishop Duval,” she said as they moved toward the hall. “How did you meet him?”

  ***

  William rode beside Henry, already wishing their journey was over. They’d made good progress thus far but that didn’t make him feel any better. Nothing along their path captured his interest. At least nothing compared to a pair of warm brown eyes, a heart-shaped face and rosy lips.

  He couldn’t get Cristiana off his mind and it was making him crazed.

  “Are you certain we should have left her there?” Henry asked.

  “What other choice did we have?” William countered, hoping Henry had a suggestion of which he hadn’t thought.

  “Therein lies the problem.” His friend was silent for so long after that, William decided he’d put the topic aside.

  The conflict inside him as he’d said goodbye to her the previous night still raged. Had he done the right thing by delivering her to the bishop? His sense of honor had been drilled into him since he was a young boy by both his father and his brother. He’d given his word to serve the bishop and to bring Cristiana to him. His word was his honor. He would not break it without a strong reason, which he did not have.

  Then why was he still plagued by doubt?

  “My gut tells me all is not as it should be with the bishop,” William said, not ready to end the discussion.

  “I would have to agree,” Henry agreed.

  “So we will watch the situation closely and see what arises.”

  “That will not be very closely considering how far away we already are,” Henry argued.

  William scowled. Henry was right. Their journey might be a sho
rt one in some respects, but several days would pass before they returned to Longsbury. Much could happen in that length of time. He could only hope that Cristiana did not do anything rash in his absence.

  ***

  “Kind of you to join me, my dear,” Bishop Duval said as he carefully eased down beside Cristiana on the padded bench in his chamber.

  Cristiana shifted uncomfortably. In her opinion, he sat far too close. When he took her hand in his, she grew even more ill at ease. The only reason she could think of for him to continue touching her was if he were ill and hoped she would heal him. But she felt no heat in his hands. He moved slowly and was pale, but that was not unusual for a man of his years.

  Perhaps he touched her as he was merely affectionate, but that didn’t mean she had to allow him to be so.

  “Father Charles said you wanted to speak with me.” She pulled her hand away, offering a polite smile so as not to seem rude.

  “Indeed. I wanted to spend some time with you, to get to know you.”

  Though she’d prepared herself for this conversation, the questions she wanted answers to failed to come to mind. What could she ask without offending him? She’d thought about it all morn as she’d explored the cathedral and its grounds. Watching the workmen as they laid stone for new walls had fascinated her. She had a better understanding of the layout of the buildings, something she needed to know if she was going to stay here for any length of time.

  Now she studied Bishop Duval, deciding there had to be some connection between him and her mother else why would her mother have been so adamant that Cristiana avoid him? Perhaps he had simply forgotten that they’d met.

  “You said that you didn’t know my mother, but she mentioned you to me several times.”

  “Oh?”

  A subtle widening of his eyes was all Cristiana could note.

  Then he smiled, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I meet so many people. I suppose it is possible she was among them.”

  Cristiana waited, but he did not ask her what her mother had said about him. How odd. Now what? She’d spoken with several people here, but so far none had known her mother. From what she had learned, everyone held the bishop in great respect. Yet there had to be a reason her mother had warned her to keep her distance from him.