The Saint

by Allison Butler

  He hadn’t known either and had never expected to. His will had always been stronger than any wants or desires. Until Isla. His heartbeat doubled, along with his craving to taste her again and to know more. He needed to get her to the priory before he gave into the powerful urge. The sooner he did, the sooner she’d be where she wanted to be and he’d be free of her overwhelming temptation, free to rebuild his strength against his inherited wanton desires.

  * * *

  Isla rode along in a warm glow, not knowing where they were and at this moment, not caring. She was lost in feelings of heat and beauty. The imagined kisses she and Sorcha had longed for and talked about had never been anything like the one she and Callum had just shared. A shiver rippled through her at the remembered feel of his lips on hers. Then, when his tongue had swept inside her mouth … All the saints and God and Mary above.

  She pressed the pads of her fingers against her tingling lips, but her touch failed to match the heated exploration her lips had recently shared with his. Isla wanted him to kiss her again, now, but his continued silence made her wonder if she was alone in the joy she was experiencing. She hadn’t known what to expect or what to do, so she’d waited to feel what he did with his clever mouth and then she’d tried to do the same. Had she failed to replicate what he’d done? Had she kissed him badly?

  The urge to lean back against his solid chest and request another chance to show she was willing to learn had her tilting back in the saddle. Only her next thought saved her.

  Nor have I.

  He’d spoken the words quietly as if they were a thought he’d mistakenly said aloud. But surely nae man could make her tingle from her head to her toes if he’d never kissed or been kissed before. He’d simply been attempting to make her feel more comfortable, so she’d enjoy her first kiss. And she had. Still was. He was a master at kissing, along with so many other things she longed to explore with him.

  Mungo sidestepped, drawing her foolish thoughts back to the here and now.

  Her stomach tightened, knowing his kiss was her first and her last and a joy she’d draw upon once her life began without him, alone at the priory in a world without touch.

  Chapter 12

  The line of trees thinned as Cal steered Mungo off the main path running through the middle of the town. He followed a narrow trail to the left, but no matter which angle one entered the bustling burgh, a person would have to be blind to miss the capped round building within its centre. A sight Isla would never see.

  ‘Can ye see a tower?’

  Isla’s father had given her the directions she’d need to reach her final destination.

  ‘Aye. ’Tis a busy burgh.’

  ‘It must be the town of Brechin.’

  Cal had never heard of the place, until Isla first mentioned the name. All he knew was that it was bustling with people, too many for him to watch every one. ‘We’re taking the less crowded trail to the south. I’m sure it will rejoin the main—’

  ‘Nae.’ Isla’s hand clutched his bare thigh. ‘We need to ride through the town’s centre—’

  ‘There are too many people.’

  Her fingers tightened on his leg, rock-solid as he fought against the feel of her skin touching his.

  ‘Then we will blend in with them and get lost among the crowd.’

  ‘I doubt we will blend in with two riding the same horse.’

  ‘Then we shall walk. I’m blind, nae a cripple.’

  ‘Isla—’

  ‘I will hold the edge of yer vest, as I did when we escaped through the inn’s window.’ Her palm squeezed his thigh. ‘Callum, ye have to go. Father spoke of the cathedral and its round tower, but it is the stone crosses ye must see. We’re too close for ye to pass them by. What if the cross ye’ve been searching for is there?’

  What if it was? Could this bustling burgh named Brechin hold a connection with his family? He had no recollection of his father, but what if the stone crosses Isla was practically begging him to see led him to finding information about his mother? Perhaps he could finally put the memories of her smiling face to rest.

  ‘Please,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘I will never forgive myself if ye dinnae stop and look because of me.’

  Cal drew a slow breath to clear his mind, but with her hand gently cupping his thigh, he needed more than air. He needed distance. Just enough to regather the determination he’d lost when he’d kissed Isla. A foolish, stirring kiss that only left him craving for more.

  ‘Nae, I cannae risk—’

  ‘I beg ye, dinnae let me be the reason ye miss such a chance.’ Her palm slid a fraction higher until it met the hem of his plaid. ’Find somewhere safe to leave me until ye return. Ye’ll be much faster travelling alone.’

  Cal’s heart thumped in his chest as he stared at the feminine hand grasping his thigh. He looked up and his gaze settled on the corner of her mouth he could see from his current position. A short amount of time away from her tempting lips and stirring touch seemed suddenly wise.

  He looked to the main path leading into the town and then looked along the trail to the left they were presently on, all the while weighing up their options. Riding into the centre of the town together would draw too much attention, while walking with Isla holding onto his vest would be slow and awkward. If there was somewhere safe to leave her while he quickly went to see the stones …

  They continued along the narrow track until the trees thinned about the entrance to an area, similar to where they’d stopped to rest and eat, and to share their first kiss. The reminder of his foolishness only strengthened his decision to leave Isla here and go alone.

  He turned Mungo into the small wooded area and rode deeper within until they stood in a shaded clearing. Cal dismounted and assisted Isla to the ground. But the warm feel of her hand on his leg remained like a brand. He brushed the thought aside and guided her to a fallen trunk and sat her down. ‘I will leave Mungo here with you. He will come when you call him and will protect you.’ With a soft whistle, he called his mount forward and gave one long stoke from his ears to the black-tip of his nose. ‘I willnae unsaddle him or remove the sacks should we need to move on in a hurry.’

  Isla nodded each time he spoke, but her hands twisted in her lap and her lips were pressed tight together, forming a thin line and looked nothing like the full, glistening lips he’d tasted not so long ago.

  ‘Here.’ He removed the dirk from at his waist and carefully wrapped her fingers about the hide-bound hilt. His hand lingered about hers and the faint colour in her cheeks deepened. He let her go. ‘You willnae need it, but—’

  ‘Mungo and I will be fine. Now, please go. I want to ken if ye find what yer searching for.’

  Cal wanted to know too. He checked the sword at his waist, and with a last glance at Isla’s hopeful expression, he headed for the place where they’d entered the small wood. When he returned to the trail, he stopped and peered back to where he’d left Isla and Mungo, pleased he couldn’t see either from where he now stood. He quickened his steps until he reached the start of the main road leading into the town, and then slowed his pace match other travellers so as not to draw unwanted attention to himself.

  As he walked, his mind continually settled on the woman he had left alone in the clearing. Was she still alone or had someone stumbled across her hiding place? He’d ensured no one had seen them enter the trees or witnessed him leaving. The knowledge that Dalziel and his man-mountain bodyguard were ahead of them kept Cal’s feet from turning around to make certain Isla was still safe.

  Cottages began to appear huddled together on the outskirts of the town and the number of people sharing this stretch of road doubled, their conversations loud and unwelcome after so much time travelling alone with Isla.

  Isla, who seemed just as excited as him at the chance that he might be about to find the cross he’d carried in his mind for twenty long years. Isla, the woman so easily pleased by simple things like describing the colour of the sky. Isla, whose innocent to
uch ignited feelings and wants and desires Cal had never struggled to deny himself before.

  Cal struck the last unwanted thought from his mind and turned all his attention to those walking or riding to and fro into the town. He recognised no one and in the moment when not a single person ambled near, he let his gaze lift above the line of heads bobbing further ahead and almost stopped in his tracks.

  In the near distance stood the tall, capped roof round tower he’d only glanced at earlier. Naught interfered with the red sandstone surface until way up high where several windows gaped wide on two of the tower’s topmost levels. Lowering his gaze a little, he studied the spire of the cathedral Isla had mentioned.

  Cal’s heart boomed harder against the wall of his chest with every step and an unfamiliar reluctance to keep moving forward tightened his gut. What if he found the cross? What if he didn’t? Keep searching? Give up? He curled his hands into fists and studied the men and women who strode so close to him, but none knew him and none were aware of the turmoil he carried inside. But Isla did. He needed to get back to her and soon.

  Gravestones dotted the grassy patch of ground on one side of the structure that was built of a similar red-coloured stone as that of the tower and cathedral, along with several stone crosses and stone slabs. Cal strode up to each stone, searched the markings and when naught he saw looked familiar, he moved on to the next. As he studied each, he tried to imagine what his four-year-old self would have seen. The stones would have appeared so much larger to a small lad and he tried to remember if the one he sought stood alone or close to others.

  He turned his back on the cathedral and the round tower, retracing his steps along the town’s main thoroughfare. He dodged and weaved through the people dashing about their daily tasks, his frustration mounting at the thought of how much time they’d lost on their journey south. Isla meant well, but she didn’t truly understand how the heavy load he already bore weighed him down. How hard each bout of disappointment dragged at his heels.

  The sound of a drunken ruckus between a man and a woman up ahead lured him from his own wretchedness. The man’s slurred voice rose in anger and had Cal wondering if his mother had ever suffered such behaviour from a man. Cal’s fingers wrapped about the hilt of his sword as he quickened his steps to offer his assistance.

  ‘Let me go,’ the woman pulled her arm free of the man’s grasp. Her gaze lifted over the offender’s shoulder and met Cal’s.

  Cal gave the woman the signal to leave with a jerk of his head and turned his attention to the back of the man’s stained and untucked linen shirt as his leather-clad legs staggered back several steps. The strong scent of ale mingled with the ripe smell of an unwashed body and strengthened as liquid sloshed over the edge of the tilted cup.

  No weapon was visible as the dark-headed man stumbled around and Cal had to wonder how long the man had been drinking or what had led him to imbibe so deeply so early in the day. The souse finally steadied his footing and laughed and coughed at the same time, a sound without mirth.

  Dark whiskers shadowed the man’s jaw but failed to hide the shiny scar that curved down the right side of his face. His familiar face. Cal’s gaze met Morgan’s, but in his current state, it took longer for Morgan to recognise him. The moment he did, some of the vagueness disappeared as his gaze dropped to where Cal’s fingers still clutched his sword.

  ‘Surely ye willnae strike down an unarmed man.’ Ale poured from the wooden cup as Morgan lifted his arms away from his sides to prove he wore no sword or dirk.

  ‘Certain men, those who attack women, especially a woman who is with child, deserve to be struck down, whether they be armed or nae.’

  Morgan’s nostrils flared, as Cal had expected, giving him time to scan those about them to see if any of Morgan’s men were near.

  ‘I see the little witch has been talking.’ Morgan swayed and spoke through clenched teeth.

  Good. An angry souse, when prodded, often revealed more than they planned.

  ‘Nae that it matters. Isobel is long dead and now so is her spineless husband.’ He staggered on his feet. ‘She chose the wrong man and made my life hell.’ He jabbed his thumb into his own chest. ‘Now all I needs do is convince my besotted father that wedding the stupid daughter willnae bring the bitch back.’

  Cal’s gut tightened at the venom in Morgan’s words.

  ‘Where is the little witch?’ His dark gaze searched about where Cal stood. For the first time since he’d left Isla, he was pleased he hadn’t brought her with him. Morgan’s presence in Brechin alerted him that he and Dalziel must have an idea she was heading to the priory.

  He needed to return to the clearing and ensure no harm had come to her. But first he needed to convince Morgan he and Isla had gone their separate ways.

  ‘Your guess would be as good as mine.’ He raised his chin. ‘I’ve lost her in the crowd.’

  Morgan’s laughter sent birds from their perches to the sky and momentarily silenced surrounding conversations. He staggered back with the force of his mirth but Cal had already taken advantage of the distraction and was weaving his way through the thick throng of people.

  Once well out of sight, he lengthened his strides and by the time his booted feet had reached the narrow trail, he was running.

  Had Morgan come alone or were his bloodthirsty companions with him? Could his men have found Isla in the wood where Cal had left her? Dear God. He never should have listened to her. He’d only wasted precious time and now carried the added weight of guilt and concern for the woman he’d promised to keep safe.

  As he ran faster, legs and arms pumping, his breaths shallow and swift, he made a new promise, one to himself. From this moment forward, he refused to make any further searches for the stone cross that linked him to who he really was.

  * * *

  Isla sat straighter on the log. The ground thudded with the sound of running feet. Men’s feet, not horse hooves. One man by the single, evenly timed footfalls. Was it Callum? Or was it someone else? The racing footsteps drew closer, changed direction. Isla clutched the hilt of Callum’s dirk with both hands, her heart beating in time with the pounding feet.

  Mungo stood before her. She couldn’t see him but she could hear him close by, guarding her like a shield. She unclenched one hand and reached her questing fingers out in front of where she sat. Warm and welcome, her fingertips proved her senses hadn’t failed. She stood and turned side about, her right shoulder touching Mungo’s side.

  The steps slowed to a walk then stopped. Mungo didn’t move. ‘Callum?’

  A loud breath escaped him as if he was relieved. ‘Aye. ’Tis me.’

  ‘Did ye find—’

  ‘Nae.’

  His voice sounded tight and tense. Did he blame her for encouraging him to go and look? ‘I thought with ye running and all, ye’d—’

  ‘In the time wasted, we would have been much closer to the priory.’

  Did he want rid of her so soon? ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why are you standing and hiding?’

  ‘I heard running footsteps and dinnae ken if it was ye or—’

  ‘God above. I couldn’t see you.’

  Isla listened to Callum draw in and release another long breath. ‘Were ye worried for me?’ She liked the idea that he might have been concerned for her, considering he hadn’t spoken much since their kiss.

  ‘Nae.’

  Silence reigned as Isla’s heart seemed to shrink.

  ‘I only worried over the loss of my dirk.’

  She heard no humour in his bleak tone. ‘Here, take it back then.’ She held out his dirk and lifted her chin to show she didn’t care if he’d been worried about her or not. As if she wasn’t worth worrying over. She pressed her lips tightly together, refusing to tell him of her own concerns regarding him while he’d been gone. ‘If yer so attached to it, ye shouldnae have left it with me.’

  What if he’d been seen by Dalziel and Conan? Were his sword skills enough to best two men? He’d fo
ught several of Morgan’s men the night they’d come for her, but she hadn’t witnessed how well he wielded his sword. The few men Isla knew boasted often about any skill they had, yet Callum hadn’t said a word. What if Morgan and his men had followed and found him alone, without his horse, without his dirk?

  The smell of earth, mingled with horse and a masculine scent she’d come to know as Callum reached her moments before his large hand gently grasped her wrist. His fingers didn’t wrap around her sleeve, but instead warmed her bare skin, sending goose flesh dancing along her arm, up her throat and across her chest. She flattened her lips more, struggling not to show he’d hurt her by not worrying while she’d been concerned for him.

  ‘I ran because I was worried.’ His quiet words matched his gentle grasp. ‘And nae about my dirk.’

  A bubble of warmth burst inside Isla’s chest. Knowing he’d run back to ensure she was safe and unharmed was one of the most wondrous things she’d ever heard. Having Callum admit his concern for her was even better. But what did it mean? And what was the point of knowing now that they would arrive at Restenneth Priory this very evening? Or had he only spoken thus because their remaining time together was so short?

  ‘I didn’t find the cross, but I did find Morgan.’

  A chill replaced the warmth running through her veins.

  Chapter 13

  Using the directions Isla had given him, Cal followed the narrow trail south-west out of Brechin toward a place called Aberlemno. She sat before him in silence. They crossed a good-sized river that seemed to continue on forever to the east and the west and wondered if knowing he’d found Morgan was the cause. He’d promised he wouldn’t let Morgan harm her. He gave his word. He wondered why he’d spoken of his concern for her aloud. He also wondered why he’d admitted his concern had been for her and not his dirk.

  Despite her attempts to appear unaffected, the thin line of her lips and the stiffness claiming her slender form were proof he’d offended her regarding his offhanded remark concerning his dirk. He’d wanted to tell her he’d lied, that his heart had pounded all the way from the town after he’d left Morgan, until he’d seen her, finally, standing shoulder to flank with Mungo, safe and well. But hearing his voice put his thoughts into solid words was the reason for the confusion he was suffering now.