A Bridge Through The Mist

by Denise A. Agnew

  God, help me.

  Help me.

  I am going to die.

  Alenna panted for every breath and as the strangling sensation overwhelmed her, she cried out. The small shriek set her free, and she reached frantically for a candle at her bedside. A clatter sounded as she knocked the candlestick off the small table and it rolled to the floor.

  Any second, she expected to feel the cold hand of death about her neck.

  Suddenly, the sound of footsteps retreated as the intruder moved away from her. The door to her chamber swung wide, and she saw a tall silhouette run through the door. She leapt from the bed and hustled to the door, slamming it with a force that surely would wake the dead. Securing the lock again, she leaned against the door for a full minute. Her heart hammered, her legs trembled, threatening to tumble her to the cold floor. When she could move, she shoved a chair under the door handle, realizing it wouldn’t stop someone that wanted to get in badly enough.

  At least it afforded a small measure of comfort.

  As Alenna sank onto her bed, she let the tremors of receding fear prickle her skin and shake her body.

  Who had been in her room?

  * * *

  As Tynan strode through the castle bailey, his thoughts turned to the one person he couldn’t forget. Battle plans against the Ruthvens, possible border war skirmishes, even piecing together new chain mail before he left the castle later today couldn’t remove Alenna from his mind. Only a few days had passed since Alenna had moved into the donjon, but it felt like months to him.

  No occupation, no sword play, no food or drink abolished the wicked grip Alenna had on his thoughts.

  He’d seen her in the company of Caithleen and one of the baron’s guards. He’d seen her at his weekly visit to the baron’s evening meal. Perhaps four times he’d spotted her from a distance, and she’d spoken to him briefly, her words cool and polite. And she wouldn’t look into his eyes, damn her.

  Each time she wore a different dress. It seemed the baron kept her in fine clothing. Tynan shouldn’t have cared. He was done with her. Didn’t give a clishmaclaver if the silly woman stayed in the donjon forever.

  But damn it, he did give a damn.

  Every morning he woke to an empty room. How he missed her smooth laughter and quick wit. Nothing was the same. Visions of her shiny hair, bonnie features and her tempting mouth made his insides clench with need.

  Her mouth. If he closed his eyes, he could almost remember the carnal pleasure as he’d feasted on her lips and the softness of her breast in his hand.

  "Bluidy well watch where ye be goin’," one of the merchants said as Tynan bumped into his cart of goods.

  Tynan swung about and landed a glare on the small man. The man realized whom he’d chastised and his face turned white.

  "Oh, beggin’ yer forgiveness. I dinna know it was ye, sir," the merchant said hoarsely.

  Tynan took in the man’s expression, and noted he’d frightened the man with a mere look. Sometimes he forgot his reputation as a hardened combatant garnered more than respect.

  "Nay. ‘Tis I that must beg forgiveness, for I have acted the knave. Have I damaged yer cart?"

  The man’s color returned as he gave Tynan a tentative smile. "Aye. I mean, nay. No harm done."

  Tynan smiled and tossed the man a coin. "For any damage ye might find later."

  Surprise popped into the man’s eyes. "But … I canna take this … ye havena bought anythin’. ‘Twould be wrong."

  "What is yer name?"

  "Willem."

  "Willem, then I will look at yer wares. Mayhap there’s a trinket that wad make a lady I know feel special."

  Any token he gave Alenna would be paltry in comparison to what the baron could give her. The idea didn’t stop him as he looked at the merchant’s supplies. Cloaks of fine wool lined with fur lay arranged on the merchant’s cart. Tynan recalled that Alenna’s threadbare cloak wouldn’t last much longer. As the days grew shorter and the nights longer, the cold would advance as well.

  He lifted a heavy cloak in a dark shade of blue. It was about the right size for a woman Alenna’s build and height.

  "I’ll take this one," he said.

  "Aye, sir. Will keep yer lady warm, this one."

  As Tynan took the cloak and draped it over his arm, he wished down deep in his gut that he could keep Alenna warm. In more ways than one.

  Moments later, he caught sight of Johanna walking with Elizabet, and he hurried forward to greet them.

  "Good day, ladies. ‘Tis a fine day for a stroll."

  Both of them smiled, Johanna’s grin particularly bright and happy. She curtsied as he bowed.

  "‘Tis a bright day. What brings ye this way?" Johanna asked.

  "Business for his lordship. I was on my way to see him."

  "What a beautiful cloak." Elizabet glanced at the garment in his hands and reached out to touch the fabric.

  "‘Tis for Alenna."

  He saw Johanna’s frown as he mentioned Alenna’s name, and wondered why the chit was so jealous of Alenna.

  "Why, we were goin’ to see Alenna. Would ye like us to take this to her?" Elizabet asked.

  Torn between wanting to see Alenna, and not wishing for the baron to know he was bringing the cloak to her, he hesitated. Anger came on him, irritating like scratchy wool. He had no business going to see Alenna. She wanted nothing to do with him.

  "Aye," he said finally. "I have business with the baron that canna wait."

  He handed Elizabet the cloak, and they made their way onward to the tower. He half wished he’d never run into them. Seeing Alenna would have been a sweet agony indeed.

  * * *

  Alenna touched the cloak laying on the table in front of her. "It’s beautiful."

  "The wool is fancy, and the fur new and clean," Caithleen said, brushing her hands over the soft fur with reverence. ‘Tis better than any I have."

  "‘Tis better than all of us have," Johanna said, settling into a chair around the table. Her lips pursed with displeasure.

  Alenna ignored her. "Elizabet, I can’t take this from you. It must have cost a fortune. Where on earth did you find it?"

  A gentle smile crossed Elizabet’s small mouth. "I dinna find it. Tynan bought it for ye."

  Alenna felt her knees turn mushy under her. She sank into a chair and stared at the three women in front of her. "What?"

  Caithleen’s light laugh drifted through the room like a sweet melody. "I’ve told her time and again he’s partial to her, Elizabet. This proves it."

  "‘Tis a sign of a much deeper sickness, I’m thinkin’," Elizabet said.

  "Sickness?" Alenna asked. "What are you talking about?"

  "The man is heart sick. A man dinna buy this for just any woman."

  "This proves nothing," Alenna said, pushing out of her chair and crossing to one of the tiny windows. A draft came in, affording her a little fresh air to clear the cobwebs in her mind. "I won’t take it."

  Elizabet sighed. "Wad ye have us insult him, then?"

  Alenna turned toward her. "Insult him? Of course not—"

  "‘Tis like a slur. Ye should accept it, Alenna. If ye dinna feel anything for him ye could give it back. But I don’t believe ye want to do that," Elizabet said.

  Embarrassment reddened Alenna’s face. "You’re saying because he bought something expensive for me, he’s in love with me?"

  "Aye," Johanna said, her voice like a discordant and indignant sound in the choir. "Dinna be a taupie."

  "Johanna!" Elizabet snapped around to look at her daughter. "That was rude. Apologize."

  Alenna looked at the young girl, and Johanna’s eyes were flat with anger. "I am sorry, Mistress Carstairs. ‘Twas rude of me."

  Alenna wanted to smack the impudent teenager. "Apology accepted."

  "Why else would he buy this for ye?" Elizabet strolled up and placed her hand on Alenna’s shoulder. "Ye needed a new cloak. The one ye have is not fit for the dead."

  Alenna turne
d to her friend. "I can’t take his present." She gestured to the room around her. "I have all this, and you and Johanna have so little. You need it far worse than I."

  "They canna take it," Caithleen said, advancing toward her a few steps. "Tynan wad be angry."

  Alenna threw up her hands in exasperation. "Why does everyone care about what Tynan thinks? You would think the man was God."

  "Aye, he is to some," Elizabet said. "The people here revere him. They have a great respect for a man so strong, and a respect for a man who treats them well. There never is a cross word to be heard about him, from anyone I know."

  "Yes. He’s a regular gingerbread boy," Alenna said wryly.

  "Eh?" The chorus of three feminine voices came at once.

  Alenna sighed. That he’d given her anything at all surprised her beyond measure. Did he think he could entice her back to his lodgings with presents? Well, if that’s what the damn rogue thought, he could suck eggs.

  "I’m not going to take it. I don’t care if Tynan comes in here and puts it on me himself."

  "Aye, that sounds like a mighty challenge," said a deep, husky voice from the doorway.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 13

  "Zounds!" Caithleen twirled at the sound, practically knocking over a chair.

  Alenna knew the husky voice at once. Every fiber within her came alive at the sight of Tynan. Tingles like static electricity ignited within her belly.

  The bump on his forehead had disappeared, and the gleam in his eyes was voracious as ever. Danger lurked in those dark depths. Danger that she understood but didn’t want to acknowledge. Once she admitted he mattered to her, she’d never be out of his hold.

  A quake of anticipation rushed through her, as if her body couldn’t help responding to him on a deep level. "Tynan, what are you doing here?"

  His gave her a sarcastic smile. "Aye, and ‘tis pleasant to see ye, too."

  "Welcome, Tynan," Caithleen said. "Would ye take some wine?"

  "Nay, I canna stay for long. But I wad have time alone with Alenna."

  Alenna opened her mouth to protest. "But—"

  "Johanna, Caithleen, let us go outside and take the air. A good, brisk walk, I’m thinkin’, to keep our minds fresh." Elizabet clasped each of their arms and gave Alenna a conspiratorial smile.

  The women went out the door without a backward glance. Even the usually obstinate Johanna didn’t protest.

  Tynan proceeded to walk toward her. The urge to escape came strong, but Alenna held her ground. She wasn’t afraid of him. No, what she felt didn’t match anything she’d experienced with anyone before. As he advanced, the tingling in her lower stomach increased. The sensation spread into a heavy warmth in her chest. Until this moment, she had been sure she could put him out of her mind. Instead he appeared and all bets were off.

  Despite Alenna’s frazzled state, she noticed his shirt had come untied in the front, and his hair was tangled about his head in disarray. His black attire gave him a menacing air.

  "Why do you do that?" she asked impulsively.

  "What?"

  "Dress all in black."

  He tossed his head like a stallion might in defiance of the bit. "Suits me." He continued toward her. "I came to see how ye like yer chambers." He glanced around the room, his expression unreadable. When he came to a stop in front of her, and she’d said nothing, he touched the cloak on the table. "Do ye like the cloak?"

  "Yes. But I can’t take it, Tynan."

  His gaze hardened, darkening like a thundercloud ready to burst. "Why?"

  "Because it’s too expensive. You can’t afford it."

  "Humph." The sound was caustic. "I say what I can afford. I dinna buy it to have ye toss it back in my face."

  "I’m trying to be pleasant about this."

  He moved until less than a foot separated them. His smile laced with cocky assurance set her hackles on end.

  She retrieved the cloak and handed it to him. "I thought you had business with the baron."

  "Aye. I did. Then I came here." Tynan opened the cloak wide, then swirled the folds across her shoulders in one quick movement, mantling her in the garment’s warmth. Keeping her gaze trapped within his, he tugged the cloak closed and held it together with his hands. He pulled her closer until she almost leaned against him.

  Why was he doing this? Did he realize that this close to him her pulse raced? Is that why he hovered over her … coming so close to touching her?

  "Tynan, I can’t take this." Too late she realized her statement might be taken another way.

  "What are ye afraid of?"

  "I’m afraid the baron won’t like you giving me gifts."

  "Pah! I’m yer cousin. I can give ye anythin’ I wish as family, and he will have no say about it."

  She supposed he was right. Still …

  "You said you wanted nothing more to do with me."

  Tynan released his grip on the cloak, but he didn’t ease back from her. She saw regret enter his eyes. "Aye, I did say that. ‘Twas foolish of me, Alenna. ‘Twould be seen as strange if I dinna wish to be with ye. As yer family, of course. The baron would wonder what had happened."

  "Why is it important he think we’re close family?"

  "I dinna want him to think our ties are broken and that ye are under his power. Ye are still under my protection. If he tried to harm ye, I would come to yer aid."

  That Tynan wanted to keep tabs on her after everything she’d said to him surprised Alenna. With his pride and sense of honor, something about Tynan’s behavior didn’t make sense to her.

  "How can you be his knight knowing what you do about him? He’s a horrid man."

  He gave her a sardonic grin. "I fight for the most pay. No one will offer me as much coin as the baron. And I have my other reasons."

  She put her hand to her forehead and rubbed the throbbing which had begun there. No matter which way she looked at things, Tynan could be in danger because she’d chosen to help Caithleen. "If you tried to come to my aid couldn’t he just have you killed?"

  He nodded. "Aye. He could at that. But I’m his best knight. Without me leadin’ the men-at-arms he’s in fair trouble in a siege. Dougald could take my place, but it wadna be the same."

  His words sounded firm and certain, but without a hint of arrogance. Tynan knew his strengths. His assurances gave her a little comfort. The longer Alenna remained in this world, the more paranoid she became. Dangers lurked around every corner. She recalled the strange night someone had crept into her room and a slight shudder went through her.

  She couldn’t tell him she kept a chair against her door at night to alert her if anyone entered. If she did tell him he’d insist she leave the baron’s household.

  "Tynan, you have to keep away from me," she said suddenly.

  His eyebrows shot up. "Am I that repulsive to ye, lass?"

  "No, no. You could never be repulsive—" She stopped, confusion building in her heart. "It’s just that you could be in danger doing this. If the baron thought you were a threat, he might hurt or kill you. I can’t have that on my mind if I’m going to help Caithleen."

  His expression turned hard. "I see. Ye worry ye might feel the least bit guilty if somethin’ happened to me?"

  "Of course I’d feel guilty. But it’s not that so much as …"

  Alenna gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to bonk him over the head. Why did this man twist her in knots so easily? She spun out of control whenever he came near her.

  "Aye? Ye were sayin’?" When she didn’t offer to complete her sentence, Tynan crossed his arms and glared down at her. "Ye care more about what happens to Caithleen then ye do me. And that’s fine. She’s defenseless, where I am not."

  "She’s not defenseless. She’s a strong girl, but she just doesn’t realize it."

  Nodding his head in an all-knowing manner, he said, "And yer goin’ to make her realize it?"

  "Yes. She’s already feeling more confident. She’s told me several times how much safer s
he feels with me here. Caithleen says the baron hasn’t even touched her since I moved in. Maybe he’ll leave her alone from now on."

  The barest of nods moved his head. "Mayhap he tires of her already."

  "If he does, that’s great. When he throws her out, she can go back with her brother."

  "It may not be so easy."

  "What do you mean?"

  Within the large room, Tynan’s silence seemed deep and fraught with meaning.

  "If he tires of her, then he must be lookin’ for another to replace her," he said finally. "He is testin’ the waters. He’s tryin’ to see what ye are really like. By keepin’ ye close, he can observe ye."

  His meaning came clear. "You still think he’ll want me for his mistress."

  "I dinna think. I know."

  Then she had to act quickly and decisively. "If that’s what he’s planned, I’ve got to get Caithleen out of the baron’s grasp." Alenna pulled the cloak off her shoulders and laid it over the back of a chair. "I must get her away from here."

  A tiny muscle in his jaw twitched. "If she runs away, she might survive. No other plan would work."

  Putting her hands on her hips, she said, "With an attitude like that, you would never have survived all these years in battle."

  "I am a warrior. Caithleen is not."

  "Caithleen and I talked about it. But we need your help and Dougald’s. Especially Dougald’s."

  Tynan regarded her for a full minute, until his stare unnerved her. Finally, he uncrossed his arms and reached for a chair. He turned it around and straddled the seat, then he put his arms on the back of the chair. "Tell me what ye plan to do."

  Under his scrutiny Alenna felt like a lowly soldier presenting a battle plan to a skeptical general. She considered getting Caithleen out of the baron’s clutches without Tynan’s help. But he stared at her, daring her to clam up. Knowing him, he’d badger her until she told him. He wasn’t going to like the plan, she knew as sure as she knew her mother’s first name.