by Diana Cosby
Colyne stepped over a log, and the writ secured within its hidden compartment rubbed against his side. He frowned. King Philip’s bastard daughter was still hidden somewhere in the Highlands.
Or had the other Scots searching for the lass found her? Please, let her be safe. God help them if they found her dead.
In the misty silence, Alesia’s stomach growled.
Colyne took in her cool expression as she stared straight ahead. They walked beneath an old oak, its leaves sheltering them from most of the rain. He halted. “We will stop here and eat.”
The lass kept walking.
“Alesia—”
She whirled. “I have changed my mind, monsieur.” Each icy word issued emphasized her regal control. “It is best if we separate. I will find my own way to France.” With her head held high and the rain pelting her body, she strode off in a different direction.
Colyne stared, amazed at her defiance. The stubborn fool. Did she think she could travel through the Highlands without a care? Had she forgotten men intent on killing her prowled the woods? Or did she despise him so much that she preferred risking her life rather than enduring his company? “Alesia!”
She didna look back.
A crushing weight settled over his chest. Let her go. ’Twas best to be rid of the lass, of the complications she brought, the unwanted emotions she aroused. As her outline blurred in the downpour, Colyne cursed, then broke into a run. He’d vowed to protect her, and by God, he would keep his word whether she liked it or nae. “Alesia, stop!”
She broke into a run.
A sword’s wrath! With long, ground-eating strides, he caught her arm as she started down a steep hill. She whirled on him like a wildcat, all claws and fury. “Leave me alone!”
“Alesia—”
“Non.” She yanked her arm back and lost her footing. The combination of the sharp decline and their awkward stance threw them both off-balance.
Colyne slammed against the ground, with Alesia landing on his chest. Leaves squished beneath them as they started to slide down the muddied bank. She tried to shove free, but he held her tight. As they shuddered to a halt, in a quick move, he rolled on top of her and pinned her to the ground.
Flecks of moss and pine wove through her damp, honey-colored hair as she glared up at him.
A face that would haunt him with its beauty, a woman whose spirit lured him until it was hard to breath. He would have let her go, should have, but beneath her anger he saw the passion still burning hot. And all his good intentions fled.
He leaned closer.
Alesia’s eyes widened with panic. “Get—”
Colyne claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, his lips moving across hers with relentless possession. After a moment’s hesitation, she buried her fingers in his wet hair and pulled him closer.
Thunder boomed nearby.
Blood pounding, he broke free and stared at her mouth, swollen with his kisses, her eyes dark with passion. “This time when I kissed you, Alesia,” he rasped, “I was thinking only of you!”
Red scorched her cheeks. Her chest heaved. “And that is supposed to make me forgive your actions?”
“Nay.” He released her. Curses. He’d only meant to . . .
She scrambled to her feet and took a shaky step back. “Do not,” she ordered when he started to rise.
Colyne stood, the warrior in him demanding her complete surrender, the strategist understanding that if he pushed her now, he could destroy any remaining trust between them.
Trust.
As if, after his actions this day, he deserved any from her?
“What do you want from me?” she asked, the quiver in her voice blurring his objectivity.
For the first time in his life, he wasna sure. “I do nae know.”
Eyes fragile with pain watched him. “At least you are honest.”
“You understand naught. I—” What? Want you? Need to explain how, for some reason, you are able to make me forget the pain of losing the woman I loved?
He fisted his hands at his sides and then slowly released them. Somehow he had to repair the breech he’d constructed between them. Or at least try. “Let me take you to the coast. Please.”
Moss-green eyes narrowed. “I can make it there by myself.”
He would have smiled at her stubbornness if the situation wasna so dire. “Alesia,” he said gently, “you are traveling north.”
“I—” She glanced toward the direction in which she was headed, then back toward him, her blush darkening a shade deeper. “I was upset. I would have realized my error and corrected my direction.” Her cold glare dared him to disprove her claim.
“You will be needing my guidance. Besides the arduous travel, predators live within these woods. Neither can you forget the men searching for us.”
At the reminder, her face paled, but determination creased her jaw as well.
She didna like it. He didna expect her to. From the short time he’d known her, if nothing else, he’d learned she wasna a foolish woman.
Alesia tilted her chin. “I could make it.”
He suppressed the smile warring to break free. “Of that I have nay doubt.”
Marie nodded, appeased by Colyne’s agreement. “We shall travel together, but only if you keep your distance.”
“In the future, I will take naught that you do nae offer freely.”
A grumble of disgust fell from her lips. “As if I would let you touch me again.” But even as she said the words, she knew she’d lied. Her skin still tingled where his fingers had caressed her, and her body ached where he had not. She might as well admit it: when it came to him, she wasn’t immune.
“Are you hungry?”
Thankful he’d changed the subject, she shook her head. “We should keep traveling.” Marie didn’t want the quiet solitude of sharing a meal with him. She needed to keep in mind her upcoming marriage to the Duke of Vocette.
Lightning shattered overhead. Thunder rumbled in its wake. Large drops of rain splattered in the puddles.
Colyne grumbled an oath and held out his hand. “ ’Tis dangerous enough to make our way down this slope when it is dry. This storm has made it worse.” When she hesitated, he caught her fingers and started down the decline toward where a jagged sheet of rock fell straight to the earth, severed by the stream meandering below.
As she started to protest, another blast of thunder shattered nearby. Then it began to pour until she could barely see.
Conceding, she allowed Colyne to guide her around the sharp wall of rock, then down the steep slope. Even with his assistance, she half-fell, half-slid the rest of the way down.
At the bottom, the ground leveled out near the stream. He gestured toward a small cave beneath a shallow overhang. “Let us hope ’twill be large enough for us both.”
Exhausted and thankful for the refuge, Marie climbed over the few rocks necessary and ducked into the opening. The recess was deep enough for the two of them to fit inside.
Barely.
Colyne moved in beside her and her relief fled.
Too aware of him, she tried to shift away.
His mouth twitched with laughter. “Unless you feel like standing outside in this mess, you will be finding nay more room.”
Marie remained silent. There was naught humorous about this situation.
He glanced over. “I promise, you are safe with me.”
Safe. Awareness tingled through her at the roll of his gentle burr. After their last kiss, when he’d cut through her defenses with pathetic ease, doubts lingered if there was anything safe about him. And wedged beneath this layer of rock, snug against his muscled frame, did little to douse her desire.
No, there was naught safe about this situation.
Clothing rustled. “Here.”
She tensed.
Colyne held out an oatcake.
Marie hesitated and then accepted the fare. “My thanks.” She edged toward the cave’s entrance.
“Alesia—”
/> At the use of her second name, guilt swept her. “I have to—”
The shouts of angry men echoed nearby.
Chapter 7
Asword’s wrath, Renard’s men! Colyne pulled back, cursing as a sharp rock protruding from the cave wall jabbed into his wounded shoulder.
“Who is out there?”
Terror filled Alesia’s eyes as she watched him, and his guilt grew. “A band of knights.” Bedamned, he should have kept alert during their travels. “We must remain hidden until they are gone.”
With the way the riders huddled their mounts together against the storm, he suspected they would soon seek shelter.
The squish of hooves sinking into the soft bank sounded.
That Renard’s men continued their search in such foul weather spoke volumes; they would stop at nothing to find him.
“Do you know them?” she whispered, pressing against him to peer over his shoulder.
Pain tightened in his chest. How could he nae? The bastards were the knights who’d slain his friend Douglas, the reason he now carried the writ. “Aye.”
“Who are they?”
He fisted his hands, tamping down the need for revenge.
“Colyne?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Men who want me dead.”
Thick, honey-colored lashes dropped to shield her eyes. “I . . .”
“What?” he asked, irritated by the reminder of her secrets.
“How did they find us?”
He made a quick survey of the knights, irritated by her avoidance of his question. After their kiss, he’d . . . What? Believed it would change their relationship to something deeper? If so, he was a fool. After Elizabet had married another, he’d understood too well how a kiss, nay matter the heat, guaranteed little.
“It has been raining too hard for them to have trailed us.” Colyne shrugged. “I doubt they know we are here.”
Above the ledge, a knight cantered past, then several more.
A fall of rocks clattered near the entrance. Through the curtain of rain spilling over the stone above, Colyne watched as the legs of a knight’s mount flashed by.
Alesia gasped.
“Steady now.” Mail scraped stone as Colyne reached for his dagger.
More rocks thunked down the muddied slope near the cave’s entrance. Through the blur of rain, another knight came into view. Mud sucked at his mount’s hooves as he rode toward the group of men a short distance away who had also started to descend the embankment.
Alesia inched closer. “What are we going to do?”
He counted twenty riders. Too many to take on alone, especially injured. “Hopefully they will leave in search of shelter.”
Several men cantering across the upper rim of the slope joined the main group.
With a sigh, Colyne relaxed his grip on his dagger. The rain streaming over the cave’s narrow opening had concealed their presence. In an effort to ease his throbbing shoulder, he shifted. As he turned, another sharp rock dug into his wound. He muttered a foul curse.
“What is wrong?”
“Naught.” They had more important things to worry about than his injuries.
A burly man, who appeared to be in charge of the horsemen, rode to the stream’s edge. “Wherever they are,” he shouted above the roll of thunder, “they could not have traveled past here.”
“They?” Alesia whispered. “How do they know we are traveling together?”
“Perhaps they stumbled upon the cave where you tended me,” he replied. “Or discovered the burials or other signs of us being together.”
“ ’Tis too dangerous to cross,” the lead man shouted back.
Alesia’s hand tightened on Colyne’s shoulder. “Look at the stream!”
The knight in charge scanned the angry torrent of churning water rushing past. Massive tree limbs bobbed in the current as if they were fallen twigs. “They must find another place to cross.”
“So must we,” Colyne whispered as he faced her.
A frown wedged across her brow. “What direction will we take?”
With a grimace, he surveyed their surroundings. A wall of rock on their left removed the decision to travel north. With the steep banks slick and treacherous, retracing their steps wasna possible.
One choice remained.
“After the riders leave, we will head downstream.”
The burly leader scowled at the blackened sky and then faced his horsemen. “We will set up camp here. Guards will be posted. If they try to pass this way, we will catch them.”
Her eyes widened. “They are staying?”
A muscle worked in Colyne’s jaw. “ ’Twould seem so.”
“Over there,” the leader called. One hand shielded his face from the driving rain as the other motioned toward a stand of trees crowded on the top of the embankment, a short distance down the burn.
An outlook allowed them a fair view of their surroundings and, unknowingly, the ability to see any move he and Alesia would make.
The knights secured their horses in the nearby trees and hurried to construct a makeshift shelter.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered. “We cannot stay here.”
As if he didna realize that. He curbed his temper. Circumstance, nay her, instigated their plight. The small cave offered them protection from the weather, but with their bodies wedged in the confines and his wound aching, they couldna remain much longer. Having Alesia’s body pressed against him, and his wanting her, helped naught.
They must find a larger shelter if he was to keep his sanity. Colyne gave her hand a squeeze. “Wait here.”
As he started to pull away, Alesia tightened her grip. “What are you going to do?”
“At the next rumble of thunder, I will release the horses. With luck, they will believe the blasts frightened their mounts. Once the men give chase, I will return. Then we can leave.”
Her face paled. “You cannot go out there alone. Your arm is not fully—”
“ ’Tis too dangerous for us to remain. Our only hope of escape is to create a diversion.”
“Even so, they will keep the horses guarded. And what if you do not—”
“I will be back,” he said, his words nae as steady as he would have liked. The possibility he wouldna return was all too real. Wanting to divert her concern, he gave her a teasing smile. “You are nae worried about me, are you?”
Eyes rimmed with concern, she scowled at him. “This is not a matter to make light of.”
“That it is nae.” He cupped her face, swept his thumb over her bottom lip. “If I do nae return, you are to remain here until ’tis safe, then leave.”
“Colyne—”
“Promise me!”
“I . . .” She closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them, the fear within easy to read, as well as anger. “Oui, but you must promise that you will return.”
He’d meant to make the parting simple, but with her impassioned demand, she’d made it impossible. Aching for her, he claimed her mouth, his kiss turbulent, filled with unchecked desire.
A horse whinnied in the distance.
He broke the kiss, pressed his brow to hers, and banked his desires.
He needed to go.
The writ!
When he’d sworn to Douglas as he lay dying that he’d deliver the writ to King Philip, never had he imagined he’d entrust Robert Bruce’s missive to another, especially to an unknown woman embraced by danger.
Colyne studied Alesia. However much the risk, he believed she was a woman of her word. Now, in the ultimate act of faith, he would test that belief.
With unwavering trust in her, he withdrew the writ from the hidden fold of his undershirt. “Here.”
Wariness flickered on her face as she stared at the bound leather. “Why are you giving this to me?”
Thunder crashed into the rain-dampened silence, a stark reminder that he must go. “If I do nae return, stay hidden until the English knights have gone.” Colyne shook h
is head when she made to speak. “Travel north for a day, two at most. I know ‘tis well out of your way, but seek a man named Blar MacTavish of Clan Fraser. Give him this.” He laid the bound leather in her palm.
“Who is Blar MacTavish?”
At the fear rattling her voice, he cupped her face. “A friend,” he said with soft assurance. “Someone you can trust.” He didna reveal the contents of the document. If someone captured her, she could truthfully claim she didna know what message was secured inside, and might be allowed to live. “Tell him . . . Tell him Douglas is dead. That this needs to be delivered immediately. MacTavish will know what to do.”
Her eyes searched his. The shimmer of unshed tears spoke of her desperation. “Who is Douglas?”
“Douglas was a knight who . . .” Colyne fought back the crush of grief. “He was my friend.”
Sadness darkened her eyes. “I am sorry.”
He nodded, the time to leave long past. “Remember, if I do nae return, take this to MacTavish. He shall ensure you receive safe escort to France.”
A tear wove down her cheek.
Shaken, he wiped away the moisture with the pad of his thumb. How could he leave her? He stared at the leather bound writ and sobered. How could he stay? Somewhere in the Highlands, King Philip’s bastard daughter was being held against her will, her abduction blamed upon rebel Scots. An accusation Renard might already have conveyed to the French king.
Unless this writ from Robert Bruce, explaining the English noble’s contemptible ploy, reached King Philip, Scotland’s support from France might be lost.
Neither could Colyne forget that more than his country’s freedom lay at stake. The threat now included Alesia’s life.
Desperation had Marie reaching out for him. “I . . .” What? Need you? She stared at Colyne, her cheeks burning from her near revelation. She couldn’t need or want him. That he’d entrusted her with an important missive had deeply moved her, how could it not? “Be safe.”
Only his smile answered, a look so tender it made her ache.
His mouth claimed hers in rushed desperation, and then he broke the kiss. “I will return.” Stone scraped beneath his feet as he slipped into the downpour.
