An Oath Sworn

by Diana Cosby

  Footsteps sounded on the other side, and then the heavy panel swung open with a rusty squeak. The aroma of cooking meat filled the air as yellowed candlelight illuminated a plump man sporting a scar stretching from his ear to his throat.

  Iohne reminded Colyne of a cross between a brigand and the homeless roaming the streets. But he’d dealt with the innkeeper before. The Scot believed him to be the servant of an English lord who had sent Colyne to buy stolen goods from reavers, a cover that had served him well in the past and would do so now. “I shall be needing a room,” he said, speaking the King’s English, as this man would expect.

  Iohne scowled. “I have none to offer ye.”

  Familiar with his ploy, Colyne held out several coins.

  The man spied the flash of silver and greed lit his face. He wiped his arm across his mouth, slick with grease. “I might be having a room, but it will cost ye an extra pence.”

  Colyne nodded toward Alesia. “My wife is with child,” he said with exasperation to add another layer of believability. “I have naught but another pence.”

  Iohne scowled at Alesia. “She is nay my worry.” He started to close the door.

  Colyne wedged his boot against the weathered panel. “Wait!”

  The man’s scowl deepened. “Will ye be wanting the room or nae?”

  Colyne muttered a curse, which earned a satisfied gleam from the proprietor. “I shall give you my last pence, but I will be asking for a loaf of bread, cheese, wine, and a bath in return.”

  The innkeeper grunted and then opened the door wider. “I will be seeing the coin first.”

  He searched his garb, as if he indeed had little to spare. After several seconds, Colyne handed over the coin.

  “Pàdraig,” the gruff man called over his shoulder.

  Moments later, a young boy stumbled into view, his tousled hair and swollen eyes a testament to the fact he’d been asleep.

  Iohne gestured toward Colyne. “Take ’em to a back room, then, bring ’em drink and food and a bath. Be quick about it.” With a warning glare at the lad, he turned and left.

  Once the innkeeper disappeared from sight, the boy studied Colyne with distrust, his brown eyes too old for his years.

  Regret filled Colyne as he took in the lad he’d nae seen before. With the English armies raiding, burning, and destroying many of the towns and villages under King Edward’s decree, this boy, like many, fended for himself. At least he had a roof over his head. For now. Until the rebels ended King Edward’s bid to claim Scotland, little chance existed that the lad’s future would change.

  Or hold hope.

  Pàdraig retrieved a candle from a corner table and waved them forward. “Follow me.”

  Colyne held out his hand to Alesia.

  She stepped into the light and entwined her fingers through his.

  As they followed the lad down the hallway, he peeked back several times, as if ensuring they kept their distance. From his wary expression, sadly, Colyne could imagine the depraved reasons why.

  They reached the farthest door, and Pàdraig opened it and ducked back, giving them wide berth.

  “My thanks,” Colyne said.

  “I will return with your food and water for a bath.” The wary youngster edged past them and hurried off.

  Colyne led Alesia inside. After he’d closed the door, she faced him.

  “Why were you speaking like an Englishman?”

  Candlelight illuminated her face as she slid the hood back, her suspicions easy to read, doubts that rankled him. “I am nae a traitor to Scotland,” he all but growled. But why shouldna she wonder? He hadna explained that he’d intended to use a false cover or speak with an English tongue.

  With a grimace, he crossed the small room to where another candle sat. After lighting the wick, he set the taper he’d carried by its side. “If anyone comes around asking about a Highland Scot, the innkeeper would be reporting none, especially nae an Englishman and his wife.”

  A rosy hue crept up her cheeks. “His pregnant wife.”

  The image of her round with their child moved him. He shoved aside the thought. “I—”

  The sharp rap on the door interrupted his reply, but he didna miss her wistful expression. A sword’s wrath. Colyne raised her hood to shield her face and then held his finger to his lips.

  She nodded.

  He answered the door.

  Pàdraig lifted a basket. “Your bread and wine.”

  “My thanks.” Colyne accepted the fare, and the lad quickly stepped back.

  A shuffling echoed from the hallway. Two burly men carrying a tub came into view. “Ye wanted a bath?” the closest man asked.

  “Indeed.” Colyne stepped aside.

  With several grunts, the two men lugged the wooden tub into the far corner of the chamber, then left.

  Pàdraig returned, hefting a steaming bucket of water. It took the lad several trips, but he finally filled the tub. Sweat streaked the boy’s face. “If you need anything else, I will be in the outer room.” He laid out several clean towels along with a bar of soap near the tub, and then started toward the door.

  “Lad,” Colyne said.

  Pàdraig turned, his feet planted as if he might bolt.

  Colyne handed him a coin. “My thanks.”

  Surprise widened the boy’s eyes as he stared at the half pence. “Thanks, me lord.”

  “I am a servant as you,” he said, immediately correcting the lad. “We must watch out for our own.”

  A timid smile touched the lad’s face, and then he nodded toward Alesia. “And if your wife is needing anything more, I will be seeing she has it.”

  After the lad departed, Colyne closed and barred the door. He would have to be more careful. A servant would have little extra coin to share. A slip such as the one he’d just made to the wrong person could cost them their lives.

  The scent of the warm bread and wine filled the air as he set the food, the goblets, and the bottle of wine near the candles on the crude table. Colyne turned.

  Paused.

  Embraced within the fragile light, Alesia stole his breath. The enormity of how truly secluded they were hit him with a stunning force. Though secrets existed between them, at this moment the men who chased them were far away. Hidden in this inn under the guise of an Englishman and his wife, at least for the upcoming night they should be safe.

  And alone.

  She pushed her hood back and watched him through half-closed eyes, but he didna miss the interest warming her gaze, a sensual look that invited erotic thoughts.

  Traitorously, his glance strayed toward the sturdy bed. His blood flowed hot. Too easily, he imagined Alesia naked upon it. His fingers trembled as he poured a goblet of wine and handed it to her. “We need to eat, bathe, and then rest as much as possible this night.” A safe plan.

  A becoming blush stole up her cheeks.

  “What is wrong?” he asked, aware as he spoke of the foolishness of his question. The reasons for her concern could be numerous.

  She shook her head. “ ’Tis unwise to admit.”

  “You can tell me.”

  “ ’Twas that you looked upon me with such pride.”

  Once again he was surprised by her complexity—a blend of innocence and sage worldliness. He stepped toward her, intrigued. “Has nay one ever told you how beautiful you are, discovered your inner strength that leaves me in awe?” Her chin tilted in a regal slant, reminding him of the first time he’d seen her.

  “There are many motivations for a man’s flattery,” she replied, her voice growing cool. She stepped back. “Words are as easily given as forgotten.”

  Sadness slid through him. “Who hurt you, Alesia?”

  Her expression grew guarded. “No one. I refuse to let them.”

  Apparently, someone had, deeply. “What happened to make you distrust people so?”

  “You would not understand.”

  “Because you would nae allow me to?” he gently prodded.

  Fire f
lashed in her eyes. “It is complicated.”

  “I expected nothing less from you.” The truth. From the start he’d found her a tempting challenge. Except, as he’d grown to know Alesia, the way she made him care, to want to protect her, surpassed any emotion he’d ever expected or, after Elizabet, ever believed he could experience.

  With longing, Alesia glanced toward the steaming tub. “Must we speak of my past now? I have told you that I find those of the nobility self-serving. Is that not enough?”

  Colyne hesitated. “Will you reveal what you are keeping from me before we part?”

  The immediate pain in her eyes had him moving closer. “What is it?” he asked, his voice firmer than he’d intended.

  “Colyne, I—”

  At the denial in her eyes, he caught her shoulders. “Trust me, Alesia. For God’s sake, I would never harm you.”

  Her eyes silently pleaded with him. “It is not that simple.”

  Colyne cupped her face. “I care for you deeply. Whatever secrets torment you, they shall nae change how I feel.”

  A silent battle raged in her eyes, and then she gave a slight nod. “I will tell you,” she finally conceded. “But first, can we not have this one night?”

  Need darkened her gaze and his throat grew dry. A sword’s wrath. However much he wanted her, she couldna begin to fathom the reality of living as a fallen woman. He shook his head. “You are a virgin and I will nae—”

  She laid her finger on his mouth. “I am, but you said you cared for me. I feel the same for you. I want you as a woman does a man.”

  Bloody, merciful God! His entire body burned as he struggled to maintain control. Intimacy with her would offer more than pleasure but invite responsibility.

  Neither could he forget that if her unchaste state were learned of by the gentry, she would be shunned. He remembered the harsh treatment served to a baron’s daughter when others learned of her indiscretion. In the end, she’d withdrawn from society and remained in seclusion. A fate he’d never wish upon Alesia.

  “What I wish and what is right,” Colyne rasped, “are two different things.”

  Moss-green eyes narrowed. “To the devil with propriety.”

  Sweat beaded on his brow as he fought to keep from plundering the sweetness of her lips, to take her as his body demanded. “Once I finish delivering the missive—”

  “No one can guarantee my safety or yours. For tomorrow, the next day, much less for several weeks from now.” She paused, her gaze intent. “Give me this one night.”

  “Alesia,” he rasped, his breathing ragged, his body aching with wanting her, “do nae ask me to do this.”

  She leaned close and pressed her mouth intimately against his. “It is too late, I already have.”

  Chapter 10

  As Alesia’s taste filled him, Colyne’s heart slammed against his chest and his body hardened to a fierce ache. A sword’s wrath! He caught her by the shoulders and, with regret, held her away. “I want you, but if the gentry should learn of this indiscretion—”

  Moss-green eyes flashed with heated determination. She stepped back and began to loosen her cloak. “You yourself said each day is filled with danger. Who knows if we shall ever have this time alone again? Time that we can be with each other.”

  His body trembled beneath his restraint. “You do nae know what you are saying,” he forced out, giving her a chance to walk away.

  Her fingers trembled on the hood of her cloak. “You do not want me?” she whispered, a catch in her voice.

  Do nae want her? That such an interpretation would ever occur to Alesia left Colyne dumbstruck. He exhaled a rough breath. “I want you more than is right.”

  She tugged the cloak free and it tumbled to the floor. With her gaze locked on his, her fingers moved to the ties of her gown.

  “Do nae.” Colyne’s body trembled as he stared at her, wanting her, needing her more than he’d ever believed. He damned decorum, damned propriety, and damned his weakness when it came to her. On a groan, he gave into his longings and stepped forward. “Let me.”

  His blood heated as he freed her gown, inch by glorious inch. She inspired feelings in him he’d believed lost, and he found it incomprehensible how anyone could have hurt her. Alesia’s past may have offered her the belief that she wasna wanted, but he would show her differently. He would teach her to understand the beauty and depth he saw in her.

  With the flick of his wrist, the last tie fell away. On an unsteady breath, he edged the dress from her shoulders. The gown puddled atop her cloak.

  Illuminated within the candle’s golden glow, she stood before him wearing her chemise, a simple yet elegant shift. The dusky tips of her breasts jutted proudly against the creamy fabric, taut, beckoning.

  Without hesitation, she moved into his embrace, warm and willing, and liquid heat slid through him to melt the last of his reserve. “God help me,” Colyne whispered as he claimed her mouth. He’d meant for the kiss to be gentle, but she pressed her sweet body against him, threaded her hands through his hair and dragged him closer. Their mouths entwined in a greedy kiss.

  Hard.

  Fast.

  Desperate.

  With his mind spinning from her taste, he took the kiss deeper, teasing, seducing, until she moaned from the onslaught of sensations.

  Like a fantasy, she met his every demand.

  His breath coming fast, his body screaming with need, Colyne slowed his pace and broke away, refusing to take her with such untamed intensity.

  “What is wrong?” she asked, her eyes wide with questions, her lips swollen from his kisses.

  “You have never been with a man. Your first time. Our first time,” he added, his words thick with emotion, “will nae be a fast coupling to sate our desire.” He stroked his finger along the soft curve of her neck.

  Her eyes softened. “Our first time.” She laid her palm upon his cheek. “ ’Tis a blessing to share such a special moment with you.”

  He dismissed the unease her words stirred. Tomorrow would come soon enough, as would the time to unravel the worries plaguing him.

  She started to remove the chemise, but he stayed her fingers. “Nay.”

  Alesia lowered her hands and gave him complete access.

  Colyne stepped back to admire her beauty, to cherish her every curve, each tempting swell. “Do nae move.” Tremors rocked him as he tugged off his garb until he stood in his undershirt and braies. Catching his breath, he skimmed his fingers over the fabric of her chemise. “It feels like silk.”

  Heat stole up her face. “Oui.”

  He slid his fingers up her arms and then cupped the curve of her shoulders. “As long as ’twas nae a gift from a suitor.”

  Alesia’s blush deepened and she shook her head.

  He laughed. “I am but teasing you.”

  “I know.” Her cheeks continued to flush in an inviting contrast.

  With tenderness, Colyne brushed a kiss upon her mouth, pausing, savoring, before moving to the curve of her jaw.

  On a quiet moan she arched her neck, and he gently took, her taste potent as he skimmed along the velvet length. “We shall learn many things together,” he murmured against the base of her throat where her pulse raced warm and inviting. “But first—” he drew away, pleased by the desire in her eyes—“I will help you bathe.”

  She frowned. “I can—”

  “Nay.” He cupped her face pressed a soft kiss upon her mouth. “I assure you, you have never experienced anything like this before. Do nae move.” Colyne retrieved the heather soap, along with a cloth. After soaking the linen with water from the tub, he returned. “Come here.”

  Alesia walked toward him as if a nervous queen, regal, elegant, but with a freshness nae found in any royalty he’d ever beheld. A hand’s length away, she stopped, her gaze confused.

  Heated images of what this night would bring singed his mind as Colyne lifted the dampened cloth and laid it upon her nipple.

  She gasped, and a shiver s
wept her body. Warm, caressing drops rolled down the delicate silk, saturating the chemise until it clung to her magnificent curves.

  With reverence, he skimmed the wet linen in provocative circles over the silk and kept his every movement slow to relish her sensual awakening. Like a fairy’s magic, wherever he drew the sodden cloth, her soft curves became visible beneath the translucent material.

  Need seared him, and he grazed his teeth along her throat. Like honey, her taste sweetened his tongue, beckoned him to fulfill his every fantasy. On a moan, he caught her silk-covered nub between his teeth and nipped.

  “Colyne!”

  As she arched beneath him, his body shook with the effort nae to take her now. A sword’s wrath! He’d but touched her and she’d come apart.

  Thrilled by her sensitivity to his every touch, he lifted his gaze to hers. Colyne flicked his tongue against her taut bud.

  Her eyes glazed with need.

  He clenched his teeth. Keep it slow. He would, if it took every last ounce of his strength.

  Sweat broke out on his brow as he again skimmed the cloth over the soft swells of her breasts. Then he caressed the soapy linen over her most sensitive place and whorls of downy hair became exposed beneath the glistening sheen.

  Tempted, needing to taste her, he drew the tip of her silk-covered breast into his mouth and began to suckle.

  Her head tilted back on a wanton sigh. “Colyne.”

  On a maddening growl, he dropped the cloth and skimmed his hand up her thighs, her shivers at his touch offering their own sweet torture. “Open for me, Alesia.”

  “I—”

  He drew a steadying breath. “Trust me.” As her legs relaxed, he skimmed his hand over her dewy flesh in slow, smooth strokes, savoring the way her body responded at his every touch.

  As her pulse raced, Colyne knelt before her, skimming kisses through the wet silk as he moved lower. He glanced up to find her eyes watching him, her breath unsteady, and his body went up in flames.

  Swallowing hard, he pressed his brow against the flat of her stomach and regained control.

  Barely.

  Fingers trembling, he slid her shift up until she lay exposed to him, completely, totally.