Chapter 11 #2
“I am sorry, but your nobility changes naught.” He stared at her, his confusion tearing her apart.
By the grace of Mary, she’d made what should have been a beautiful bonding a disaster.
She needed to put distance between them; it would be wise.
Sensible. And she would, with the oncoming dawn, but hours remained until then, precious time she would savor.
“Make love to me again, Colyne. Give me this one night with you.”
“How can I—”
“I know it is wrong,” she rushed out. “More than I have the right to ask.”
Blue eyes narrowed. “On the morrow I will make arrangements for us both to sail.”
“And for that I give you thanks.” Trembling at the thought of letting him go, she stood. “You must accept that once you depart, we cannot see each other again. Ever. Please, lay with me until dawn.” She struggled to swallow. “But if you choose otherwise, I understand.”
“If I spoke with your fa—”
“My father will not change his mind.”
Alesia might be convinced that he couldna sway her father to end her betrothal, but Colyne believed otherwise. “Who is you father?”
Silence.
So be it. Once he’d delivered the writ to King Philip, he would seek the noble out and speak with him in private.
’Twould nae be difficult to find an influential lord who had a beautiful daughter named Alesia who had journeyed to Scotland as a missionary.
And a woman who had served her people as a healer.
Whatever the price to release her from her betrothal, he would pay.
She believed her decisions took away his responsibilities toward her; he disagreed. Though unaware of her betrothal, he’d known of her chaste state.
Still, he’d allowed intimacy.
Aye, he could blame his actions on her impassioned request, of how she’d pressed against him and destroyed his will, but he refused to use excuses for a choice he’d made. With his every intimate touch, he’d known his decision, had accepted its consequences.
After experiencing her untutored passion, the guileless sensuality of her every move, he’d wanted more than what one night would give them.
“I need you, Colyne.” Desire-filled eyes searched his with desperation. “If it is within you to forgive me for what I now ask, make love to me.”
Her desperate plea cut through his musings. His body hardened as his mind relieved images of her beneath him. “Alesia—”
She unbound the sheet and stood naked before him. Illuminated within the golden candlelight, her breasts, full, round, and tempting, lured him. “Do you still want me?”
He silently groaned. Want her? Colyne’s gaze feasted on her tempting curves, at how the shimmering light slid over her as he wanted his hands to, and doubted he’d ever get his fill.
A sword’s wrath! He should walk away. He wasna a green lad unused to joining with a woman or the pleasures the act inspired. But as her scent of woman and lavender teased his senses, never had he wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. If he were to be damned, then so be it.
Pulse racing, he crossed to her, claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss. He would find a way to right this wrong.
Dust-streaked sunlight stole through the aged window to expose the room in a dim glow.
For a selfish moment, Colyne held Alesia, who slept in his arms, and enjoyed the hazy peace.
It didna matter that he lay within a downtrodden inn or that, somewhere in the city, Renard’s men searched for him and wanted him dead.
For this one instant, he was content.
Though caution had advised him nae to touch her again after their heated discussion, his body had burned at how throughout the night she’d reached for him over and again.
Colyne pressed a kiss upon her brow. In sleep, the lines of worry that had marred her face since they’d first met had smoothed. She was beautiful. ’Twas as if the fairies had delivered him a princess.
The princess.
King Philip’s daughter.
She was still out there. And he prayed his kinsmen had found her.
Odds were, even if she had been rescued, Renard had long since sailed to France and would have begun planting seeds of doubt about the Scottish rebel’s treachery in the king’s ear.
Until King Philip’s bastard daughter was returned or the sovereign read the writ, the French king wouldna learn the truth.
However much he wished to linger, responsibility dictated otherwise. Aware he tempted fate, Colyne nibbled his way across the soft curve of her lips, then slowly claimed her mouth in a deep kiss.
A frown draped her brow, and then thick, honey-blond lashes raised. Through half-closed lids groggy with sleep, a smile, warm and sated, curved her mouth. “Make love with me.”
At her breathy request, he was lost. Colyne touched her with infinite care, amazed at the feelings she evoked. Would the passion she aroused always be so strong? He found himself believing ’twould be so.
A while later, with her body trembling from release, Colyne lifted himself on his elbows and stared at her.
“Good morning, my lord,” she said.
The husky purr of her words lured him back. He promised himself he’d only take a wee taste of her lips. Colyne leaned closer. Their lips touched. Melded. Heat stormed him and his mind hazed.
With regret, he pulled away. “I must leave to speak with my friend in Glasgow.” Then he made the mistake of glancing down. Beneath him, her breasts pressed against his chest, their bodies merged to where her warmth brushed against his hardness.
Her eyes, warm from their lovemaking, watched him, their invitation clear.
Colyne swallowed hard. “You are making it difficult to leave you.”
After a soft kiss upon his mouth, Alesia leaned back. “Can you not stay a while longer?”
“If possible, I would remain here forever.” He glanced through the grimy window to where the sun slowly rose into the sky and grimaced. He couldna delay his departure further. With a grumble, Colyne sat up, and then retrieved his braies.
She rolled onto her stomach. Naked, she watched him with sinful invitation. “How long will it be until you return?”
He silently lauded his stamina, comparing it to a saint’s as he tugged on his trews. “I should return before midday.”
“Do you think the men searching for us will be in Glasgow?”
“Aye. We have been lucky nae to have crossed paths with them over the past several days.” He resigned himself with one last glance over her tempting body. “Stay within the room until I return.”
Alesia’s mouth softened into a sensual pout. “I will miss you.”
“Aye, you will,” he said, with a boldness she aroused. Her laughter trickled through him, reminding him of all the reasons he wished to remain.
After he’d donned his garb and topped it with his cloak, Colyne gave in to one last kiss, slow and deep, until her hands wove around the back of his neck and she tried to pull him into bed. The chains of his forged mail clinked as he broke free.
She gave a frustrated groan. “You did that on purpose,” she softly accused.
He winked. “Indeed. But I am a man who never starts anything he canna finish.”
A wanton smile on her face, she sat up, her breasts jutting proudly, as if beckoning his return. “You could—”
“I must go,” he interrupted, too familiar with where his tarrying would lead. He shifted the tie of his trews, his teasing leaving more than her frustrated. “Upon my return, we shall finish this . . . discussion.”
“Colyne,” she called when he’d reached the door.
“Aye?”
Her hand slid to cup her breast as her gaze held his. “I shall be waiting.”
He clenched the handle of the door. A sword’s wrath, the lass was a temptress. He’d faced many an adversary on the battlefield with the odds against him. Surely he could resist the lass’s charms until his return. “Stay here,” he ordered. “Do nae go anywhere until my return, nay matter the cause.”
At his reminder of the danger, she lowered her hands and her face paled. “What if you do not return?”
“I will be back.” Even if he had to crawl.
“Be careful.”
Colyne shot her a smile, wanting to ease her worries. “I will.”
A cool breeze greeted him as he stepped from the ramshackle inn. The early morning light exposed the poverty of the streets, the air ripe with dank smells oozing from the crumbling buildings shoved against one another.
Well familiar with the dangers of Glasgow, he made a slow sweep around him. Several people were out, but they kept their gazes averted as they passed. Confident he wasna being watched, he hurried toward a narrow side street.
Three streets away, as he rounded a curve, he spied several knights halting travelers and questioning them. With a curse he drew back and then peered around the corner.
One of the men turned.
He flattened himself against the wall. ’Twas the man who’d shot him with the bolt. He glanced down the alley. If he backtracked, ’twould make his journey twice as long. He grimaced. Alesia would worry at his being late, but he dared nae take the street.
Several hours later, the bells announcing the arrival of midday tolled as Colyne reached the Glasgow Cathedral. He grimaced. Alesia would be expecting him. At least she was safe where at the inn. But what if the men had discovered her whereabouts? Nay, he’d hidden their identities well.
He slipped into a side entrance. The scent of frankincense and myrrh hung in the air. Having visited the cathedral many times before, he moved with sure steps through the solemn hallways adorned with intricately woven tapestries.
At the end of the corridor, he gently pushed open a thick oak door.
Stained-glass windows encased by sturdy, handcrafted frames arched toward the ceiling, designed with various finely crafted pictures of Jesus, Mary, and several biblical settings.
With his every entry into this chamber, the enormous sense of spirituality filled him.
’Twas as if he could feel God’s presence.
The murmurings of a deep voice in Latin had Colyne glancing toward the front of the room.