The Highlander's Bride
Page 15
The walk back to the village was only slightly less nerve-racking than the walk to the church. Colette would be glad to see the last of the English soldiers. As it was, the English were taking an unhealthy interest in her marriage. At least Captain Withers seemed satisfied she was not the lady he sought and saluted their health, making outrageous proclamations to the number of progeny he expected her to produce.
The walk seemed to go on forever, as she was forced to pretend not to hear several bawdy jokes regarding first-night jitters and bets as to how many babies the soldiers thought she was good for. Gavin had seemed to be in good humor when leaving the church, but even his patience was tried when the talk turned lewd.
Finally, they arrived back at the village and bid their English soldiers a firm farewell. They went to the stable and soon were on horseback, trotting into the main square to leave. Colette took a deep breath, the cool of the evening air filling her lungs. They had done it. They were going to escape. She turned her back to the inn just as she heard her name called in an insistent voice.
“Lady Marie Colette! Lady Marie Colette! Do not ride off, milady. I have a letter from your father, the duc de Bergerac!” the messenger, wearing the full livery of the duchy of Bergerac, proclaimed in a loud voice for all the village to hear.
Twenty
Colette froze, scanning the village square to see who had heard such a loud pronouncement. Fortunately, it appeared her English friends were more interested in their drink and most had proceeded to the inn.
“Wheesht, man!” cried Gavin, riding up to the young messenger and grabbing the reins from his hands. “We are surrounded by English soldiers, ye fool,” he hissed. “If we’re caught, Lady Colette will be at their mercy and ye’ll be killed.”
The messenger’s eyes widened so large Colette feared they might bug out from his face. “H-here,” he stammered, holding out the missive to her.
“Thank you,” said Colette quietly to the messenger. “Tell my father I am well and that we are making our escape. Tell him…tell him I will miss him.” Her voice choked and she could say no more.
“Fly back to yer master, and quick.” Gavin tossed the young lad his reins. The messenger did not hesitate and galloped from the square.
“Was he heard by anyone?” asked Colette in a whisper.
“I see none,” said Gavin, his eyes narrowing. “But let us make haste.”
They raced down the gentle sloping hill, away from the village. Colette pressed her mount to ride faster than she ever had before. She knew if she had any chance to make Scotland, she needed to get out of France before nightfall. Though she had many mixed feelings about joining her new husband in a land far away, it was preferable to being taken by the English. Surely, being a bride to a Scottish laird would be more agreeable than to live as a prisoner to an English captain.
Gavin motioned for her to go first and he followed behind, protecting her from any pursuers. She pressed forward, racing through the gloom of the early evening, brushing past the overgrown bushes along the path. They galloped past a grove of trees with sweeping branches that arced over the path like a leafy canopy.
It was a relief when she saw the outline of Bordeaux ahead and they reached a flat plain. She kicked her mount and raced even faster through the fields to Bordeaux. It was planting time, and the rich dark earth had been recently tilled into neat long rows, filling the air with the aroma of rich earth. She breathed deeply, wanting to hold on to her homeland for as long as she could.
They were forced to slow their mounts as they approached the town. It was a busy port and the gates were filled with people walking, peasants with carts of goods, and even English soldiers marching in and out at the city gate. Everyone wanted to get to their rightful places before the gates closed for the night.
They slowed to a brisk walk, not wanting to appear in too much of a rush, which might spark suspicion. Colette took the opportunity to break the seal of her missive from her father. Had anything changed? Was she not to proceed? She scanned the parchment.
“What is it?” asked Gavin. “Any change in our orders?”
“Oh, Father,” murmured Colette. “He writes to say our ship has been taken and we must find an alternate route.”
“Helpful,” muttered Gavin.
A line of English soldiers stood by the city gates, causing her pulse to rise. Gavin pulled ahead of her, riding his horse at a walk past them with enviable cool. She followed, maintaining a serene expression, appreciative that her mother had instilled a strong commitment to maintaining a reserved appearance. She hoped her apprehension would not be reflected on her face.
More than one soldier turned to look at her, but she refused to turn her head, seeing them only out of the corner of her eye as her horse walked past them. She glanced behind her, taking one last look at the fields. This was her land, her home. And she was saying good-bye.
She pressed her lips together to avoid showing emotion, but still the feelings welled up inside her. She wished there was a way that she could serve her people and be faithful to her father that did not forever banish her from the home she loved. The urgent missive had seemed like her last lifeline to her homeland, the last chance she would be called back home. But there was no reprieve from her banishment.
A flash of steel from the far road behind them drew her attention. To her horror, a group of English soldiers were riding hard for the town, with the straight-backed form of Captain Withers leading the charge. They must have overheard her messenger.
They were coming for her.
She quickly rode up beside Gavin. “The English soldiers from the village, they have come for me,” she whispered.
He looked around and gave a brief nod of understanding. He drew closer, riding right beside her, pointing up at Bordeaux Cathedral as if showing her the remarkable architecture. “We must get ye to the ship.” He spoke in a low voice. “Whatever happens, ye go for the ship. I may have to keep them at bay. Dinna tarry. Get yerself to the St. Olga.”
“I understand.” What she understood was that Gavin was in grave danger. Her heart thumped wildly at her chest, but she kept her back straight and her head forward. They moved quickly through the narrow streets, Gavin taking the lead.
When they reached the docks along the Garonne River, Colette was relieved to see her own guards finishing loading the ship with her goods. Pippa was already on board, babe on her hip, and she waved to them from the deck.
The ship itself was about sixty feet in length and was of a traditional cog construction. It had one mast with a large, square sail, now furled in a neat bundle along the edge of the deck. At the stern of the ship was a raised deck made to look something like a square turret, complete with rectangle battlements at the top. She guessed that during these tumultuous years of warfare, merchant ships had been adapted to defend themselves as necessary.
“Despite the help the landlady gave us, her brother is sympathetic to the English,” whispered Gavin. “If the captain discovers yer identity, we shall no’ travel.”
Colette nodded in understanding.
Gavin dismounted in a single leap and reached up for her without ceremony. He lifted her off her saddle and touched her feet to the ground. His hands remained on her waist a moment longer than they needed to. His eyes gazed intently into hers, conveying all he could not say.
“Make yerself comfortable, my dear, and I will see to all the arrangements,” he said loudly for the benefit of those around him and smiled at her like a doting newlywed, motioning for her to board the ship. He went over to the group of her guards to quietly alert them to their peril. It would not be long before the English would be upon them.
“I will see it done,” said Captain Perrine with a grim face. He stepped to her and bowed a farewell, speaking in a low voice. “Bonne chance on your journey, my lady. It has been an honor to serve you.”
“Thank you for your
loyal service, my friend.” She clasped his hand. “Be safe.”
“I will join ye,” said Gavin to the captain in a voice barely above a whisper. “Choose one o’ yer men to guard Lady Colette. We must prevent the English from reaching the dock.”
“No, you must be the one to see her safely to Scotland,” whispered her captain. “Only you know the way, and the ship’s captain would no doubt refuse to sail without you since he believes you to be wed.” Captain Perrine clapped Gavin firmly on the shoulder. “It is here where we part ways. Good luck, my friend.”
Colette could see Gavin was hesitant to leave the fight, but he had to admit it was the only chance they had. Gavin needed to be on that ship to serve as her guard and guide, and more than that, she needed him, more than anyone else, to be with her on this journey.
“Good luck, my friend. I wish ye well.” Gavin and Perrine embraced the way men do, slapping each other on the back. Gavin turned and took a moment to rub behind the ear of his horse, whispering something to the mighty beast. He handed the reins to Captain Perrine, who mounted the great horse. Another guard claimed Colette’s horse, and they raced into town with the remaining guards running behind.
Gavin plastered a smile on his face more false than any she had ever seen. He waved good-bye as if this were a normal occurrence and hustled her onto the ship.
“Greetings!” said a man with an abundance of sandy whiskers as they came on board. “I am Captain Dupont. What are your friends getting off to in such a hurry? They forget something they wanted to take, yes?”
“Nay,” said Gavin, pausing only for a moment. “The lads decided to stay and not make the journey. They were racing to the pub. Last man buys the first round.”
The captain laughed at this. “One way to make sure the men are fleet of foot, no?”
Gavin gave another forced smile. “I see that the tide has turned. Are we soon to set sail?”
“Eager to get on the seas, is it?” The captain smiled in a knowing way. “Or perhaps you are looking for an early evening to find yourself in bed with this beautiful young wife of yours.”
Despite her strict training, Colette blushed straight down to her toes. How dare he speak of her in this manner, particularly in her presence?
“That obvious, am I?” Gavin played along. “Truth, I would like to be on our way.”
“Well now, my lad, you will have a lifetime with this pretty young wife of yours, but I understand a young man’s heart, I do. Make yourself at home and we’ll shove off.”
Colette could not stop watching the dock and the road beyond. Would her guards be able to hold off the English soldiers long enough for them to escape? What would happen to her guards? The minutes ticked by and still she saw no one. Every once in a while, she heard the faint noise of some commotion. She feared the soldiers were pressing closer and might soon be in view. She exchanged a glance with Gavin. Would they be able to leave fast enough?
“Let me help ye at yer work,” said Gavin, stepping up to assist the small sailing crew in their duties. A few times, a definite clang of steel on steel was audible, causing more than a few sailors to stop their work and look around. Fortunately, Captain Perrine had so far held them off and the battle was not visible to anyone on board. Gavin took to humming a jaunty tune and then singing it outright, trying to prevent the good captain from hearing anything that might cause alarm.
“Get below,” Gavin whispered to her as he passed.
He was right; she should not be seen from the dock, should the English soldiers break through. She found refuge in the raised wooden structure at the stern of the ship, which had been built to resemble a square castle turret. Inside was a narrow passageway leading to three doors, one on the left, one on the right, and one straight ahead. She chose the middle door and found herself in a neat little cabin. Opening a shutter, she could see the dock and hear the increasing noise from the battle.
She ran back to the narrow doorway to the deck, eager to see the square sail unfurl as it was raised up the mast. It was fastened to a long beam at the top and then secured on the lower edges by rigging it to the ship. Colette did not know if Gavin had any experience with sailing, but he certainly was jumping about, trying to be as helpful as possible.
The boat finally pulled away from the dock, the sailors helping with long oars until the sail caught the wind. They floated out into the river that would take them to the ocean itself. Colette sighed in relief, thinking they had escaped. She ran back to the cabin just as the English soldiers came into view. The clash between the English and her guards was now clearly visible on the dock if anyone was to look.
She ran back to the narrow door leading to the deck. “Gavin!” she hissed, pointing to their new problem.
Gavin grimaced for a second before putting his arm around Captain Dupont’s shoulders and facing him out to sea. “So tell me, what’s ahead of us and how long will be our journey?”
Colette’s guards were making a good showing, holding a larger English force at bay, but they were greatly outnumbered. The English soldiers who had chased them from the village had joined with the foot soldiers from Bordeaux, and now they were all pressing her men hard. Her heart sank with the thought that they were protecting her with their very lives. She hoped they could hold out a little longer and return home to their families.
“What was that noise?” The captain paused, cocking his head to one side, listening carefully.
“Noise?” Gavin smiled, showing his teeth. “No’ sure what ye mean, but I am enjoying the sound of the waves on the hull of the ship. ’Tis verra calming. Or mayhap ye mean the seagulls, though their squalling is less relaxing. Reminds me of a song I ken.” Gavin loudly sang a jaunty tune in his native tongue.
The captain smiled but was undeterred, walking back along the railing of the ship, toward the dock and the sounds of the skirmish. Captain Withers and the English soldiers stood alone on the dock shouting and waving their arms.
Colette’s stomach sank. Her guards had been defeated.
“Ah, look! They are waving us farewell. How verra kind.” Gavin waved back and smiled boldly. “Farewell! We shall miss ye! Aye, we wish we could return, but we shall carry ye in our hearts!” Gavin yelled over the din of the soldiers who were far enough away to be difficult to hear.
Colette could tell they were yelling at them to stop, but she hoped their words and intent would not be clear to the captain.
Fortunately, the captain smiled and waved. “Farewell, my friends!”
“Stop your ship!” boomed the loud voice of Captain Withers. “You carry the daughter of the duc de Bergerac!”
Colette grabbed the door frame to keep herself standing. It was impossible Captain Dupont had not heard. The ship captain frowned and turned to look at her, sizing her up as though seeing her for the first time. The crew likewise stopped their work and stared at her, unsure what to do.
“Ye got nobility aboard wi’ us?” Gavin asked the captain in a friendly manner.
“The only women aboard this ship are your wife and her maid,” said the captain in a suspicious tone.
Gavin strolled boldly toward her. “So my wife is a fancy lady? Have ye been keeping secrets from me, my dear?” He laughed when he said it. He approached her with confidence and put an arm around her, snaking it up her back and pressing her toward him. “Tell yer English friends I’m kissing me a princess!”
“What are you doing?” she whispered, not sure if her heart was pounding from the danger of the situation or the closeness of the man.
Gavin leaned close to her, hissing in her ear. “They need to believe ye are my wife.”
She knew what they must do. They needed to convince their captain she was not the lady they sought if they had any chance of escaping. What harm could a single kiss do?
He leaned forward, until his lips were only an inch away from hers. “May I kiss ye, m’l
ady?” His whisper was so soft, she almost missed it on the wind.
“Oui.” A single word that would change everything.
His lips were surprisingly soft and inviting. He wrapped his arms around her slowly, drawing her in, allowing her body to melt slowly into his. The sensation was shocking yet warm and delicious. She moved her hands up his chest and wound her arms around his neck, soaking him in, wanting more.
A growl of pleasure emanated from him somewhere deep within his chest, a quiet rumble that told her he was not untouched by this kiss. He held her tighter and moved his lips along hers in a slow, sensuous dance. She could not help but press closer as he deepened the kiss.
Vaguely in the distance, she heard the sounds of cheering and she could only think it was her soul rejoicing in this powerful bonding of hearts. Suddenly, the connection was broken. Gavin ended the kiss abruptly and pulled away, keeping one arm around her shoulders. He faced the captain and crew, who were giving cheers and shouts of encouragement to Gavin. It turned a hallowed moment into something quite lurid, and her cheeks blazed in response.
“Verra well done, m’lady. We may get out o’ here alive.” Gavin spoke out of the corner of his mouth even as he smiled and waved to the crew.
“No duchess aboard this vessel!” the captain called back to the soldiers on the dock and, despite their protests, continued to set sail.
Colette forced a small smile. At least they had gotten away and Gavin thought it was all pretend. She would have to guard herself lest he discover her response was not at all feigned. The thing that disturbed her most was not the kiss they had shared, but the thought that it had not affected him as it had her.
Whatever happened now, his kisses would forever be seared upon her soul. She may have escaped France, but she would never escape the memory of Gavin’s kiss.