Heart of Ashes (Hearts of the Highlands Book 1)

by Paula Quinn

  “Where is your father?” William asked turning to the striking redhead.

  She pointed to the gravestone close to where she stood. “He died at Berwick.”

  “Who is this?” Elizabeth smiled at him, tall and handsome, and not nearly as dangerous as Cainnech.

  “He is William Stone, my father’s servant,” Julianna told her.

  “The one you told me about?” Elizabeth’s smile faded and her flesh paled. “The Scottish boy?” She turned to Aleysia with confusion and betrayal in her eyes. “What are you doing with a Scot, and who are these men?” She looked warily at Cainnech and Rauf when the latter made his way over.

  “I heard women’s voices,” Rauf informed them, reaching for his sword. “We need to hurry the hell oot of here.”

  Elizabeth staggered backward and cast Aleysia a horrified look. “You brought the Scots here?”

  Aleysia tried to tell her they were safe and Lismoor would soon again be hers, but Elizabeth hated the Scots for killing Giles and, like them all, she couldn’t see beyond it.

  “You betray your brother by befriending these murderous, treasonous outlaws!” she shouted.

  The voices from inside the abbey grew louder, closer.

  “Elizabeth, if you will please listen,” Aleysia tried to no avail.

  “Here!” her friend called out to the nuns now entering the cemetery.

  When the sisters saw the strange men in their yard, they scrambled back and made the sign of the cross.

  “These men are Scots!” Elizabeth shouted. “Get the abbess!”

  “Please, Elizabeth,” Aleysia tried again. “Just come home with me. Give them a chance. They are not even staying.”

  “You called them your friends,” Elizabeth said with tears staining her eyes. “They killed Giles. How could you, Aleysia?”

  What did Aleysia dare say? That she might be falling in love with one of them? She turned to look at him, wishing Elizabeth would just give him a chance the way Mattie had.

  “Miss d’Argentan, I should have known.”

  Aleysia slid her gaze to the entrance and scowled when she saw the abbess. She hadn’t changed. In fact, she hadn’t aged in five years. “Reverend Mother,” Aleysia said impassively, “we were just leaving.”

  Swathed in stiff wool, the reverend mother’s face was a mask of utter composure, save for the rage in her stormy gray eyes.

  “Before you go, why do you not introduce me to your companions?” From within the long wide sleeves of her white robes, the abbess extended her hand toward Cainnech.

  He looked down at it, not sure what he was supposed to do, and then reached out to accept her offering.

  “No!” Aleysia shouted, but she was too late.

  Cainnech pulled back his hand after barely touching the abbess and looked at it. His eyes opened wide and then he turned to Aleysia. “She jabbed me with some—” He collapsed in a heap at Aleysia’s feet.

  Instantly, Rauf and William drew their swords, but Aleysia leaped in front of the abbess and held up her palms to hold back the men.

  “Stop! Do not touch her!”

  “She killed the commander!” Rauf shouted, but did not try to move past her.

  “He is asleep,” the abbess corrected him blandly.

  William fell to his knees to check. Rauf didn’t seem convinced and tried to move forward.

  “She did not kill him, Rauf!” Aleysia told him, making certain her heard her. “He only sleeps. Remember, I told you about this? The commander will awaken. What will you tell Father Timothy if you kill a nun, a woman?”

  Rauf finally nodded and stepped back, out of range of the abbess’ touch.

  “If I wanted him dead,” the abbess told them in a strict but serene voice, “he would be dead.” Her eyes sparked with fire when she met Aleysia’s gaze. “I do not know what you want, but Elizabeth will not be going with you this time. Now, take your men of war away from my abbey before I truly lose my temper.”

  She turned on her heel and swept away in her long robes, with her nuns behind her.

  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 forget 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.”