Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me

by Lana Williams

  She’d hoped to have a coherent conversation with her this morn, but the maid’s mutterings had discouraged her. Questions about the night her mother had been killed would have to wait until the maid regained her balance.

  If she regained her balance.

  Everyone in camp eyed Branwen warily and kept their distance. Part of the reason had to be the woman’s smell. She sorely needed a bath. The sour stench emanating from her made it difficult to sit close to her for long.

  “We need to be on our way soon,” William said from behind her.

  Cristiana turned to look at him. He appeared none the worse for having been on the road several days. His dark, wavy hair still made her long to touch it, for she knew how soft it was. He’d shaved earlier, and his strong jaw made her sigh. Those warm brown eyes with their long lashes watched her steadily. For what, she didn’t know.

  He squatted down beside her, speaking quietly. “I realize you have no reason to trust me,” he began, “but will you tell me what happened to your mother?”

  Cristiana glanced at the maid, not wanting her to overhear.

  William rose, offered his hand, and gestured toward the trees a short distance away. With a sigh, she took it and followed him. It was still so hard to speak of her mother’s death.

  He led her to a great oak far enough away to keep their conversation private.

  Cristiana fought against the lump that formed in her throat as memories of that terrible time swept through her. “My mother was returning home from a trip when she was set upon by thieves. At least that’s what we thought at first. Her cart was discovered with her body and her two guardsmen. Her things were strewn about and the horses and some items were missing.” Cristiana swallowed hard as she thought of what her mother must’ve endured that terrible night. There had been signs of a struggle based on the position of her mother’s body and the cuts and scrapes on her hands, but Cristiana wasn’t willing to share everything with this man. Her instincts told her to trust him but he was still a stranger. “She was almost home. So close to safety.”

  “The thieves were never found?”

  “Nay. Nor did they strike again that we know of.”

  “Did your mother have any enemies? Any reason to fear for her safety?”

  Cristiana shook her head as she thought back to the weeks prior to her death. “She never acted fearful. Sad at times, but never scared. The only person she warned me to stay away from was Bishop Duval.”

  “Why?”

  “She wouldn’t say.”

  “Without a valid reason for her warning, I must deliver you to the bishop as he is now your guardian.”

  Cristiana held her tongue. She already knew that nothing would persuade this knight to sway from his task. But until they arrived in Longsbury, she would continue to try to escape.

  “We thought there were no survivors of the attack. That is, until last night when Branwen appeared.” Cristiana held William’s gaze. “I am terribly sorry she tried to hurt you.”

  “You owe me no apology. It doesn’t seem as though she’s...well.”

  “You’re right. Something inside her seems to have unraveled.”

  “That often occurs after surviving such an ordeal. I’ve seen it happen both on the lists and in battles.” He looked toward the trees, but Cristiana got the feeling he saw something else entirely. “The mind does odd things to protect itself from what is happening.”

  Unable to resist, she drew closer to put her hand on his arm. “Did that happen to you?”

  He glanced down at her hand as though uncertain what to do with it. “Not like Branwen perhaps, but aye. Not just your body has to heal after an injury or a traumatic occurrence. People are oft reduced to a simple form of existence. At least for a time.”

  Before she could ask anything more, he took her hand in his. Awareness flooded through her. Her gaze caught on his and butterflies shimmered inside her once again. Those brown eyes with their hint of green studied her closely as though he would learn all her secrets.

  “Cristiana, I can’t imagine how difficult losing your mother must have been. I’m certain your life has never been an easy one. Not with your gift.” His calloused thumb rubbed the back of her hand, sending the butterflies into a flurry.

  She tried to speak, but something caught in her throat. The sympathy he offered brought her emotions to the surface. This man touched her in a way she’d never before experienced. “No life is easily lived. Not if we are truly living it. We all have our own troubles, do we not?”

  He smiled. “Indeed we do.” He lifted a finger to ease a stray lock of hair off her cheek, sending shivers along the back of her neck. “You have managed well thus far. I hope that continues.”

  “I don’t know what the future holds, but—” Temptation filled her and she bit her bottom lip as she stared at his mouth. She drew a deep breath, wondering if she had the courage to do what she longed to. Her future seemed more uncertain than ever. All the more reason to take each opportunity that fate provided.

  Now, in this moment, she wanted to kiss him again. To feel the press of his lips against hers, to forget everything that had happened and focus on the pleasure he brought her.

  Before she could form the words for her request, his lips took hers. Passion arose hot and fierce from deep inside. His arms wrapped around her as though he’d protect her forever, as though he would never let her go. Her heart squeezed at the feeling.

  Sensations spiraled through her. His tongue danced along the seam of her lips and she opened them, eager to explore. The invasion shot longing through her, weakening her knees. Her world narrowed until the only person who existed was William.

  His skin was soft at the back of his neck, so different from the hard strength of his body that pressed against hers. He made her feel as though he could protect her from any threat. His hand lingered below her ear, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

  He broke the kiss, his breath coming fast, his forehead resting against hers.

  “Cristiana, I...”

  Tears filled her eyes at the regret in his voice. She knew as well as he that nothing could come of this. Despite their attraction for each other, their lives were on different paths, at odds with each other in many ways. Her heart broke a little for what could never be.

  She, too, had regrets, and he would be added to them.

  She swallowed hard, trying to regain control. “I know, William, I know.” She pressed her lips to his once more, wishing they could forget all that stood between them and enjoy the moment and the pleasure they found in each other’s arms.

  Voices from their group intruded along with the restless stomp of the horses, and she knew their moment was lost. She eased back to look into his eyes. “You are a good man, William. I hope that soon you are healed inside and out.”

  She forced herself to release him, to take a step back and stand on her own. The path that lay ahead of her would be treacherous. There could be no one in her life. Not with what she had to do. Cold seeped into her but she fought down a shiver. “We should be going.”

  His steady gaze on her was nearly her undoing. But he nodded at last. “Aye. So we should.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  William rode beside Henry, well aware of the questioning looks his friend continued to send him.

  “Damn it, Henry. Stop looking at me like that,” William grumbled. “Don’t you think guilt plagues me enough already?”

  Henry’s blue eyes went wide. “What are you speaking of?”

  William scowled. “I know you know what I’m speaking of.”

  “Speak in English, man. You make no sense.”

  “I am talking about Cristiana and that kiss.”

  “The first or the second?”

  “You’re counting them?” William asked incredulously.

  “You brought it up. Or should I say them.”

  William darted a look behind them to make certain no one could hear their conversation. “I rea
lize I shouldn’t have—”

  “That’s your opinion. Not mine. I told you life is short and you should take advantage of any opportunities that arise.” Henry gave him a broad smile. “Have to say I’m proud of you.”

  William shook his head. “’Twas a mistake.”

  “Why?”

  “It only served to upset her.”

  Henry frowned. “She took affront?”

  “Nay. At least I think not. But it did not end well.”

  Henry snorted. “Kisses never end well unless you finish them in bed. Even then the outcome is not guaranteed.”

  William gave up. How could he make Henry understand when he had yet to understand her reaction himself? He’d stopped kissing her before he completely lost all control and done something they’d both regret. Yet the look on her face had made him feel terrible. It seemed he was destined to disappoint the lady at every turn. He changed the subject. “I think we should find an inn for the night. Everyone could use a good meal and a warm bed.”

  “And a bath. Don’t forget that,” Henry said with a wrinkle of his nose. “That maid reeks to high heaven.”

  “You don’t smell so well yourself,” William teased.

  Henry lifted his arm and sniffed. “No finer smell on a man than sweat and horse.”

  William chuckled, hating to guess what he might smell like. “We should reach Moorby before nightfall. There’s an inn there as well as a public bath house.”

  “Moorby it is. I could use a cup of ale or two or three.”

  “As long as you keep your wits about you,” William teased. He’d yet to see Henry overindulge in anything, whether it was ale or women.

  The day drew long until William felt certain they’d never reach their destination for the night. Even Sister Mawde’s complaints quieted as the journey progressed. Perhaps she was too tired to grumble overmuch. Branwen rode behind Cristiana. The maid had refused to ride with any of the men.

  They arrived well before dusk at the inn. Though small, the place was clean and a welcome respite from all the nights on the road he’d endured. He was certain Cristiana would feel the same. The inn had been built on the ruins of a Roman manor which boasted a bath house with segregated bathing. The structures had been adapted to suit the needs of travelers.

  “I’ll go see about some rooms,” Henry said.

  “Wait!” Sister Mawde hurried after him. “You might need my influence to get a fair price.”

  Always a gentleman, Henry offered his elbow to the sister, his smile enough to charm honey from bees. “Any assistance you provide would be greatly appreciated.”

  Shaking his head, William aided Cristiana in dismounting, keeping a wary eye on Branwen, who continually glanced over her shoulder nervously as though worried someone was going to sneak up on her from behind.

  “Cristiana,” he began, wondering how best to broach the subject he wanted to address. “Do I need to post a guard outside your room for the night?”

  Those brown eyes gazed up at him, measuring him. He could tell she was weighing her options. Lying did not seem to come easily to her, yet he knew she’d do it if she thought it necessary.

  “Nothing has changed. At least not for me. I still do not wish to become Bishop Duval’s ward.”

  “I’m not certain the choice is yours.”

  Her chin lifted and a glint appeared in her eye. “It is if they can’t find me.”

  “Is that what you want? To remain in hiding for months, maybe longer? To live as your maid has, startling at every sound and wondering where you’ll find your next meal?” Frustrated that his words weren’t getting through to her, he stepped closer to intimidate her.

  Her eyes widened.

  “What happens when a man, perhaps even a powerful lord, learns of your gift? Do you think he won’t try to use you? You might find yourself married and performing healing tricks for his friends like some court jester.”

  Rather than frightening her, his words seemed to make her even more determined. “I am not concerned with what the years before me might bring. The next fortnight is what I need to worry over. That should be all the time necessary to discover who killed my mother and why.”

  “And how do you know her death wasn’t as it seemed? An attack by thieves that ended badly?”

  “Branwen—”

  “Has told you nothing. She may have witnessed the event, but her mutterings aren’t proof of anything. She might never be able to tell you what happened.” He looked past her shoulder at the woman in question, but she paid no attention to them or their conversation.

  He looked back to Cristiana to find her brown eyes measuring him, holding secrets he couldn’t begin to guess. While he knew he had yet to convince her, he had to continue trying.

  “The bishop’s protection could be beneficial to you.” He shook his head, wishing he could get her to understand that all of this was for her own safety.

  Her head tilted to the side, her mouth softening into the start of a smile. “William, you worry overmuch. Have you come to care for me?”

  “Indeed I have.” He admitted it without hesitation as he drew a finger along her jaw. “I would not see you hurt.”

  Something flashed in her eyes. “Nor would I. I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  “Then I have no choice but to make sure you are safe.”

  “If that were true, you wouldn’t take me to the bishop.”

  He scoffed. “How could he possibly harm you? Why would he want to? What purpose would that serve?”

  He waited, but she said nothing.

  “None. ’Tis not logical,” he argued.

  “Logic does not apply to my life. Surely you know that much about me.”

  William gave up. “There is no reasoning with you, is there?”

  She smiled. “Let us find some food. I’m starving.”

  “I was looking forward to sleeping in a bed tonight, but it seems as though I’ll be sleeping outside your door.”

  “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be sure to sneak out the window then.”

  He laughed. Damn if she wasn’t a delight even when she defied him. Her charm was a force to be reckoned with, but he could not afford to let her change his mind about fulfilling his mission. He’d given his word to the bishop, an oath not to be broken. Never would he allow Cristiana to wander about the countryside. The very idea was ludicrous despite what Cristiana wanted. She wasn’t thinking clearly and that meant it was up to him, at least for the time being, to keep her safe.

  He gestured to the men-at-arms to see to their horses and offered the lady his elbow, noting her hesitation before she took it.

  “Does it bother you to touch others?” he asked, curious to know how her gift worked.

  “Not unless you are injured.” She gestured for Branwen to follow them.

  “How can you tell if there’s an injury?”

  “Heat.” She glanced up at him. “The place of injury feels hot to me.”

  “Is it only wounds you can heal? What of other illnesses?”

  She gave a small shrug. “I can often heal other problems, but it depends on the person and the severity of the illness. Often it’s centered in a particular area and I feel heat there.”

  “Then what?” he asked, still trying to understand.

  “I draw out the heat.”

  “And into you.”

  Again, she gave a light shrug. “It has to have somewhere to go.”

  He waited but she didn’t expand, so he did it for her. “It hurts you.”

  “Only temporarily.”

  “Temporary pain is still pain. It drains you of your strength.”

  She stopped before the door of the inn. “I’m amazed that you are so accepting of it.”

  “I have seen my brother struggle with his gift of second sight. Afraid to use it. Afraid not to.”

  Her quick intake of breath made him think she understood his description perfectly.

  “Afraid he’d do more harm than good,
” William continued.

  Her brow creased. “Aye. All that and more. I truly would like to meet him.”

  “Perhaps you will. You would have much to discuss. Have you always had your gift?”

  “Aye. The first thing I remember healing was a butterfly. Its wing had been crushed and it hurt my heart to watch it.”

  Her husky voice held pain as she relived the memory. He could imagine her as a little girl, her golden curls trailing down her back, her brown eyes filled with tears at the sight of the struggling butterfly.

  She looked up at him. “It was worth the pain to see it fly away.”

  “Is it always worth it?”

  “Almost always.” A shadow fell over her face and he wondered at the cause.

  “My lady?” Branwen drew closer, glancing up at the inn. “Are we staying here for the night?”

  William noted the way Cristiana’s nose twitched. “We are, but first I think we must inquire if a bath is possible.”

  “There’s a bath house nearby,” William said. “A bath would do us all good.” He did his best to push the images of Cristiana rising from steaming water as rivulets of moisture ran down her body. Her soft skin would be rosy from the hot water. Her— “William?” Cristiana asked, interrupting his suddenly vivid imagination.

  His face heated as he realized the lady had been speaking to him while he’d been envisioning her naked. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “I asked if we might go to the bath house before we dine.”

  “By all means. I will accompany you.” He swallowed hard, trying to get the image he’d so clearly envisioned out of his mind.

  Within a short while, Sister Mawde was left at the inn with one of the men-at-arms while the rest of the party made their way to the bath house. After seeing Cristiana and Branwen safely inside, William left the man-at-arms guarding the entrance and entered the bath house to join Henry. Yet he couldn’t get the feeling that Cristiana might try to escape out of his mind. She’d nearly promised to attempt escape again. He simply couldn’t trust her.