by Paula Quinn
“I have seen him laugh a time or two when he was with ye,” Rauf agreed with a sly wink cast at her.
She blushed and was about to rise to her feet, when the commander returned and gave them a disgusted look.
“Would we like to reach Newton on the Moor today?” he asked in a wry tone.
The men tossed away their bread and leaped to attention. Aleysia decided to move a little slower.
“I would like to get there today,” she answered pleasantly and tossed him a playful smile. It was difficult to remain angry with him when, according to his men, she made him smile.
He looked as if he were fighting one from forming right now. “Then mayhap,” he said, trying to sound angry, and failing, “ye can all quit flappin’ yer tongues aboot—”
He ducked, but her honey-soaked hunk of bread hit him in the shoulder.
She wasn’t sure what made her laugh harder, the bread sliding down his arm, leaving a sticky, glistening streak behind, or Rauf and William’s exclamations of disbelief.
When a moment passed and Cainnech didn’t demand that they all pick up their bags and head back to Lismoor, her friends exchanged knowing smiles.
“Are ye done then, lady?”
Oh, he was angry, calling her lady instead of the more tender lass. She really should stop laughing but it felt too good. She hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time.
Finally, he gave in and crooked a corner of his mouth up at her. His smile, subtle though it was, sobered her faster than his anger. He made her laugh and even though it was at his expense, he didn’t grow angry. He smiled.
They stared at each other across the small clearing, their eyes saying what their mouths would not.
He lifted his hand and swatted something away. When he waved his other hand in front of his face, Aleysia gasped and then covered her mouth. Bees! He took a moment from fighting them off to glare at her, and then unclasped his cloak and pulled off his léine.
He wore nothing underneath but skin, muscle, and scars. Aleysia watched, captivated, as his dark hair fell over the broad flare of his shoulders. The filtered sunlight caressed his long, lean waist and fell across his washboard belly.
She stopped paying attention to the others and remembered what it felt like to be pressed so snugly to him, to be caught up in his strength and the passion of his kiss.
She fought the urge to take a step forward when he strode to the stream and bent to it. He dipped his léine into the water and looked over his shoulder at her, as if he simply couldn’t believe she’d thrown her bread at him.
She adjusted her bodice—not realizing what she’d done until his gaze dipped to it—and then marched over to him. “You are fortunate ’twasn’t a dagger.”
He slanted his mouth and turned back to his léine. “Not as fortunate as ye that I dinna toss ye into the hive.”
She tried to think of something to say but her gaze was fastened on the play of muscles in his shoulders and arms as he scrubbed. She tore her eyes away and looked around the clearing. She found Will and Rauf standing by the horses. They still appeared stunned by her boldness and looked away quickly rather than meet her gaze.
She glanced down at the commander again and then sat on her weak knees beside him. She wouldn’t let him frighten her off. “Your men are afraid of me.”
He angled his head and gave her a pointed look. “They should be. And ye dinna have to sound so pleased aboot it.”
She couldn’t help but smile. She knew the men weren’t afraid of her, but she couldn’t tell him what they truly thought. “I should help,” she said softly instead, and reached for the wet bundle in his hands.
He covered her hands with his and when he looked at her, his gaze went altogether soft. “Ye are not a fool, lass.”
She could have stared into his eyes until her last breath if he would always look at her the way he was looking at her now, as if he knew her and liked who she was and wanted to know more about her.
He found her beautiful, more beautiful than the glade. He’d said so himself.
He wrung out his léine and rose up above her. “But there can be no…” he continued, and then paused as if the words tasted foul coming from his mouth. “I must keep my head clear to my duty.”
Her heart sank as she straightened. “And what is your duty, Cainnech?”
He stared into her eyes and clenched his jaw, as if he were trying to keep whatever he wanted to say inside.
After a moment, he blinked away and glared at the men. “Time to go!”
He was running again. Father Timothy had told her that the commander was fond of her. His men believed it, too. She thought of being with him at the glade and how serene he had been, how his mouth had worked slowly over her flesh, her lips, awakening parts of her she didn’t know existed. She hadn’t wanted to leave the glade—to return to who they were and what they were supposed to feel.
She wanted to be angry with him for always running, always pulling away, and keeping a “clear head”, but she couldn’t. She was quite suddenly sad, in fact. He was so angry and filled with hatred for the English, and for those who swore fealty to King Edward, that he was blind to his own heart.
What should she do about him? When he’d first come to Lismoor, she’d wanted him to leave. It was all she had wanted. Now, the thought of him going made her ill. What had changed? He’d kissed her and changed her dreams and desires.
She watched him return to his horse and pull on his wet léine. It clung to him, outlining the muscles defining his chest. He shoved his cloak into his saddlebag and mounted in a single leap.
She would have to think on it later. Elizabeth needed to come home.
St. Peter’s Abbey was an old structure in the southwest end of the lovely village of Newton on the Moor. It wasn’t overly large, as far as abbeys went. Its high bell tower and two corner towers rose up over the quiet village.
Aleysia recalled the last time she was here five years ago. Giles had been with her. They had come to take Elizabeth to Lismoor. The abbess had been angry and had argued with Giles. It seemed Elizabeth’s father had been paying handsomely to keep his daughter here while she was away from home and the abbess didn’t want to lose his donations. But Elizabeth had written to her betrothed telling him how much she hated being there, so they had come and brought her home. But it had been a harrowing visit.
Aleysia stopped Cainnech and the others before they rode any closer. “We cannot simply knock on the abbey doors.”
“Why not?” Cainnech growled, staring at her from his saddle. He brought his mount closer until his leg brushed against hers.
Aleysia found it difficult to keep a clear head, staring straight at him, their legs touching. It made her want to curse him for being so untouchable. “The abbess does not care for me that is why not,” she replied tersely. “Now, are we going to discuss my plan to get to Elizabeth, or remain here all day and ask questions?”
William and Rauf remained quiet.
Cainnech’s expression darkened. “Why did ye not tell me this before?”
“I am telling you now. Also, I have been thinking.”
He actually sighed.
Truly, sometimes she believed she could happily kill him.
“Elizabeth does not know you and your men were not defeated at Lismoor. I fear she will not return if she discovers the truth.”
He stared at her for a moment then blew out a short laugh. “So I am to let ye go inside alone? Is that what ye have been thinkin’?”
The poor man still had no idea who he was talking to. She narrowed her eyes on him. “I do not belong to you, Commander. You do not let me do anything. You should feel privileged that I even let you in on what I’m thinking!”
“Och, look at them apples!” Rauf said, pointing to a vendor when her pitch grew to a shout.
Will smiled and looked away.
“Fergive me,” the commander said, giving her his attention with a hint of warmth in his gaze to go with it. “I do feel privileged. Go on.”
“Thank you,” she said first. She kept her voice low so that only he could hear and let herself smile. “I forgive you.”
She thought he didn’t hear her at first, for he leaned closer. His smile began in his eyes and it was as if the shutters blew off a hundred windows. Was that a glimpse of his heart she saw in the deep blue fathoms?
“Lead the way, lass,” he said hoarsely, quietly. “Fer ’tis clear I will follow anywhere ye go.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“There is a graveyard behind the small church,” Aleysia told them while they secured their horses to the trees. “’Tis gated, but I know how to get in. Once inside, I can get to Elizabeth’s rooms. I will go get her while the three of you wait for us in the cemetery. If you see any of the nuns, do not speak to them, do you understand?”
“Nae.” Cainnech said, looking uneasy. “Tell me again why we canna enter through the front gate. Why are we sneakin’ aboot? ’Tis an abbey. There are nuns inside. They willna stop us from—”
“You do not know the abbess,” Aleysia insisted. “She is frightening.”
He smiled indulgently. “Lass, I have faced mighty warriors in battle. An abbess doesna frighten me.”
She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Still, why face her if we do not have to? Aye?”
Without waiting for him to respond, she hurried past quacking ducks to a wall behind the second tower. There, she found a small door curtained by vines.
It looked as if no one had used the door in years. The vines sprang free when she pulled it open. She smiled, looking over her shoulder at Cainnech, and led the way into the cemetery.
She saw the narrow, stone stairway that led inside the abbey and turned to tell the men that she was heading inside when William stopped and went deathly still.
Aleysia followed his gaze to a young woman standing alone at one of the gravestones. Who was she? Probably another poor girl orphaned or abandoned by her family.
“Will,” Aleysia said gently to get him moving. They shouldn’t stop and speak to anyone.
“’Tis her,” he managed, not taking his eyes off her. “’Tis Julianna.”
The girl heard her name spoken and turned to see them. She stepped back and pressed her slender hands to her chest.
“William?” she asked with a stunned, hesitant breath.
She wore a full white kirtle and a yellow silk overgown with a fur-lined mantle and a golden coronet over her brow and long, red tresses.
“Hell,” Aleysia heard Cainnech groan next.
“What are you doing here?” Will rushed to her like a man just given back his life.
Julianna backed away and cast a nervous look around him at the commander standing close by and Rauf moving about.
“I was sent here after…Berwick.” Her large, dark eyes shimmered with tears and she dabbed them with her dangling sleeve. “It was terrible. Where were you?” Instead of waiting for an answer to her current question, she asked more. “Who are these people? Why have you come here?”
“I…I am here for…”
“We are looking for Elizabeth FitzSimmons.” Aleysia stepped forward and smiled, though wanting to stay and needing to go tore her heart in two. “I am Aleysia…d’Argentan.” She added her surname in a low voice.
“Giles’ sister!” Julianna smiled and Aleysia was tempted to look over her shoulder at William or Rauf to see if they had heard.
“Elizabeth has told me all about you and your brother. Did the Scots ever come for your castle? Did your traps kill them all?”
Aleysia felt William go stiff beside her and step away. She wanted to turn her gaze to Cainnech. She needed his help. She also needed to say something to Julianna to shut her up.
Aleysia turned to William first. “Please forgive me. I will be killed if ’tis found out.”
When he flicked his diamond-hard gaze over her shoulder, she turned to see Cainnech coming toward them. Rauf was keeping watch at the stairway and was thankfully out of earshot. For now.
“If what is found out?” Julianna asked her, her wide eyes moving from her to Will. “Killed by who?”
“Aleysia?”
She turned to see Elizabeth step outside from the side entrance to the abbey.
When Elizabeth took off running toward her, Aleysia met her in a long embrace.
“What are you doing here?” Elizabeth finally pulled back and asked her. “Is it safe to return to Lismoor? Did you kill all the—”
Her gaze skidded to a halt on the commander and the two men around him. “Who are these men?”
“Elizabeth,” Aleysia said, trying to keep her voice light. This wasn’t how she wanted to tell her friend about the Scots. “We’ve come to bring you home. These…” She closed her eyes, knowing the moment Elizabeth found out who they were could likely be the end of their friendship. She’d sent delicate Elizabeth away into the woods and back to the abbess for nothing. Not only did she not keep her promise to kill them all, she was losing her heart to one and had brought him here. “These are my friends.”
“Where did they come from?” Elizabeth asked, leaning in so the men wouldn’t hear. “I’ve never seen them at Lismoor.”
“Dearest, come now.” Aleysia tried to usher her toward the hidden exit. “We will discuss everything on the way. The abbess will be angry if she finds me here unannounced.”
“Aye,” Elizabeth finally smiled. “But I do not have my things.”
“Everything you need is awaiting you at Lismoor, and we can send for the rest later.”
She was almost sure she heard Cainnech expel a long sigh when they finally began moving. Still, Aleysia thought thankfully as she led her friend to the door, this was easier than they thought it would be.
“Julianna.” Elizabeth suddenly remembered her and broke free of Aleysia’s arm. “You must come with us! You will love it at Lismoor.”
“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 m
ight 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.
