Chapter 4 #2
“Your sisters were allowed to practice with swords?” She could envision her father’s fury if she dared such. Not to mention the commotion among the gentry such a brazen act would incite.
A shimmer of a smile curved his mouth, then faltered. “Do you find the idea of a woman learning to defend herself provincial?”
“Not at all.” The idea of wielding a blade held its own appeal. “It is only that I have never met a man who would let his daughters train with weapons.”
“You never met my father.” Pride reflected in his eyes. “He was an unconventional man.”
Indeed, if anything like his son. “Your mother approved of this activity?” she asked, curious to learn more about his family.
Grief shadowed his face. “She never had a say. While giving birth to my youngest sister, she died.”
Her chest squeezed. “I am sorry.”
“ ’Twas a long time ago. I barely remember her.”
“But you loved her.”
A stick snapped beneath his boot. He glanced toward the leaves trembling overhead in the late-afternoon breeze. “Aye.”
The trees began to thin, and she hurried forward and fell into step at his side.
“My mother died in a fever when I was young. I have no memory of her, not even the faintest gesture or the tenderness of her voice. Only the whimsical memories my father shares when he speaks of her. Yet, I find myself missing her greatly.”
Tenderness softened the sadness in his eyes. “ ’Twould seem we have something in common.” The rush of water drew his attention. “We are almost there.”
As she walked, the churn of water intensified; around her, a bed of moss cushioned the ground. The downy softness gave beneath her slippers.
“Watch out.” Colyne caught a broken limb bent low before her and moved the branch aside. He gestured her forward.
“My thanks.” Marie stepped from beneath the branch’s shadow and halted. With reverence, she took in her surroundings.
Illuminated by the golden rays of the late afternoon sun, a stream spilled over a shallow ledge and poured into the small loch.
On the far bank, where the current slowed, a bed of reeds peeked up, while lilies, along with the moss and yellow flowers, nestled amidst a cloud of heather to rim the water’s edge.
Emotion welled in her throat as she turned. “ ’Tis wondrous.”
As he watched her, Colyne’s eyes softened, then he gave a rough sigh.
“ ’Tis. And necessary. After this day, we both need to bathe.
” He strode to a plant thick with pink flowers and tore off several leaves, returned, and handed them to her.
“ ’Tis soapwort. Crush them as you wash.
They will produce a lather and help remove this day’s grime.
” A hint of a dimple touched his mouth. “As a healer, I believe you would be knowing that.”
Touched by his chagrin, she gave him a gentle smile. “I do, but it does not take away from your thoughtfulness.”
For a long moment he stared at her. Desire trickled through his gaze, then resignation. He stepped back. “Do nae take too long. Though we have seen nay one, ‘tis possible English knights are about.”
Though soft, his cloaked warning shattered the illusion of peace around her. Marie scanned the rugged hills framing the gentle setting with a wary eye. Though embraced by serenity, danger existed, a fact underscored by this day’s carnage.
He pointed toward where a shallow ledge extended from the top of the knoll. “I will be over there, keeping watch for anything suspect.” With the stealth of a predator, he slipped into the woods and out of sight.
Thankful for his guard, she turned her attention to her disheveled state. With a grimace, she peeled off her stained garments and then stepped into the water, appreciating the cool slide after working through the rancid heat of the afternoon.
Taking a gulp of air, she dove deep. When Marie surfaced, she burst from the water, then swam with long, sure strokes toward shallow ground.
Halfway to shore, she tread water. She made out Colyne’s outline as he stood on an outcrop overlooking the loch, which allowed him a clear view of the surrounding area as well.
Heat spread over her face. If he glanced in her direction, he would see her naked. Her body tingled with awareness, and the cool temperature of the water did little to douse the warmth sliding through her body.
Unsettled by the desire Colyne aroused, she swam toward shore. For the first time in her life she’d met a man who knew neither her title nor her role in life, and yet he’d offered her not only his protection but his friendship.
No tricks. No schemes designed to charm her into a marriage for personal gain, even when she refused to tell him of her reason for traveling to France.
Or was his easiness a cover to shield his own secrets? Did he believe if she viewed him as nonthreatening, she wouldn’t question him further about the men who sought him?
On edge, she dove deep and then resurfaced. Exactly what was he hiding from her? What fate had befallen him to the point where men chased him with lethal intent?
Marie dismissed any thoughts of villainy on his part. Since he’d first awoken in the cave, he’d demonstrated over and again that he was a man who valued fairness. Somehow, for reasons he refused to share, he’d become embroiled in a dangerous situation.
As much as she wanted to believe he was loyal to Scotland’s cause, without knowing for sure, in matters of trust she must proceed with caution.
“Alesia?”
Colyne’s use of her second name was a blunt reminder of her deception. Neither could he discover her father was King Philip.
And if he did? Enticed by the promise of a royal tie and wealth, would greed flare in his eyes, as with most men when they learned of her station? Or would respect and honor remain there instead?
Marie hated her doubts, but life had taught her to be wary of men. Except for her maid and the knights assigned to guard her, she lived alone in a coastal village, far from her father and the court crowded with false smiles given only for self-gain.
She preferred her simple life in a small house by the sea, found satisfaction in working alongside the healer to aid those with simple means.
Until she’d met Colyne.
Now, an emptiness she’d never experienced unraveled inside. He made her want, not only physically but with a yearning to share more than a few days of her life with him.
“Alesia?” Colyne called again.
Frustrated with the unwanted emotions he made her feel, she swam until her feet brushed against the smoothed rock. “I am going to wash out my clothes,” she said, thankful for the distance. “ ’Twill take but a trice.”
“Nay, lass. I have set a clean gown behind the rocks near where you entered. It was spared from the fire, so I brought it along.”
She glanced toward where his voice echoed, surprised by his kind gesture. How many men would have done the same?
Or cared?
Not that it mattered. They each had their own lives. Even if she longed to know more about him, to grow closer, time, as fate, stood against them.