Chapter 9 #2
“We will nae attract attention dressed in this garb.” He drew another robe over his own head, wishing they were already inside the safety of the inn. After securing the tie, he led her toward the city. “Keep near my side.”
Fear flickered on her face, but she took his hand. “I will.”
They moved deeper into Glasgow. Horses drawing rickety wagons stumbled over the rut-battered streets. Men dressed in the same nondescript servants’ garb quietly passed.
“ ’Tis not as I expected,” Alesia said, a tremor in her voice.
“What?”
She nodded toward the decaying buildings, the squalor as far as the eye could see. “I had expected to find well-kept homes or businesses.”
“In a better part of the city, aye, you would.”
Unease swept her. “A better part?”
Colyne led her through the ill-tended streets cluttered with debris. “After weighing the risks, I decided traveling through this shabby part of town would be for the best. In the company of a noblewoman, the men searching for us would believe I would choose a safer route.”
“I see.”
Colyne gently squeezed her hand. “I will keep you safe.”
“I know.”
Humbled by her belief in him, he continued on. At the next corner, he stole a glance behind them. “This way.” Confident they were nae being followed, he guided her into a darkened alley.
The stench hit first. A putrid mix of decaying food, stale mead, and a hint of something morbid.
He didna pause to decipher the latter. He’d slipped through this part of the city too many times to linger.
Desperation governed those who lived in this squalid area, thieves who killed without hesitation for something as simple as a loaf of bread.
A curse, then the sound of the slam of fists exploded nearby.
Alesia’s fingers tightened on his.
“Keep moving.” He increased their pace. After maneuvering through the dismal streets, a weathered stone building pleading neglect came into view. He led her into the shadow near the front door. “Wait here.”
Her breaths came in short, rapid bursts as she scanned the darkened alleys around them. “But—”
“Go along with whatever I say.”
She caught his sleeve. “What are you going to do?”
“If all goes well, secure us a room.”
A scattering of people shuffled past, their varying degrees of inebriation evident by their boisterous tones. None appeared to notice them. Satisfied they’d drawn nay attention, Colyne walked up and knocked on the door.
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 flashed 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.”