Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me Page 2

  “My lady—”

  She peeked over his shoulder yet again and her eyes widened in alarm. With a gasp, she stepped closer to him, gripping the front of his surcoat as though she suddenly found him irresistible.

  Her gaze found his, those eyes now soft and warm, their panicked depths dragging him in. “Please. Please, good sir, I beg you. Will you aid me?”

  She stretched up on her toes, her lips parted a hair’s breadth from his. He could already taste their sweet fruit, feel the warm press of her lush body against his. Blood rushed to his nether regions, leaving his thoughts far behind.

  What had been her plea?

  He caught himself not a moment too late, for he had very nearly nodded in agreement, prepared to fulfill her every wish. Where was his honor? His sense of duty?

  “I’ve given the bishop my word to deliver you to Longsbury.”

  “Truly? Of all the knights who could’ve been sent to fetch me, the bishop managed to find one bound by honor rather than a few coins? Just my rotten luck.” She released his surcoat and sighed. “You had best seek out the sisters and tell them you’ve found me before they tear apart the fair searching. The villagers will not take kindly to a disruption of their celebration.”

  He smiled, amused by her clever attempt to escape him. “And leave you unaccompanied? I think not. I’m certain the sisters would prefer to see for themselves that you are safe.”

  She scowled at him. “You’re not the trusting sort, are you?”

  “On the contrary, my lady. I’m very trustworthy.”

  “And a fine sense of humor, I see. Rotten luck indeed.”

  He offered his elbow. “Shall we?”

  Cristiana stared at him, obviously weighing her choices. “And if I refuse?”

  “That would not be wise.”

  She sent him a measuring look, clearly not convinced.

  “Do not cross me, my lady.”

  Still she said nothing.

  Deciding he’d gain more ground if he changed tactics, he added, “I would provide you safe escort to speak with the bishop and you can discuss the details with him.”

  “Lady Cristiana!” a shrill voice interrupted.

  William turned to see the stout form of a nun barreling toward them, a switch grasped tightly in her hand.

  “Oh, dear,” Cristiana muttered as she waved at the nun. Sadness came over her tired expression like a window shutter blocking out the sun. “You have no idea of the havoc you wreak. But for the moment, I see you’ll not be convinced to allow me to depart. Let us find the other sisters and leave this place.”

  William frowned, confused by the lady. Why did he feel as if he’d just lost the upper hand with her?

  CHAPTER TWO

  William stood in the small courtyard of the convent, wondering how much longer they’d have to wait before beginning their three-day journey back to Longsbury. The long shadows cast by the statue of the Virgin Mary warned of the passing of the day.

  Henry sat on a small wooden bench and leaned against the stone wall, his large frame at odds with the dainty bench. The knight had his eyes closed, and his bald head rested against the wall, the image of relaxation as he basked in the rare autumn sunshine.

  William shook his head, amazed at Henry’s ability to find peace no matter where they were. A valuable skill for the nomadic life they lived and one William envied. He tried to curtail his own restlessness and resisted the urge to pace.

  “I thought she was going to kiss you there for a moment,” Henry muttered.

  Heat suffused William’s body at the memory of Lady Cristiana pressed against him, her lips close to his. Surely his momentary lapse of all mental coherency was normal when a woman such as she applied her skills.

  He decided it best not to respond to Henry’s comment directly. “She doesn’t wish to go to Bishop Duval.”

  “Do you suppose she knows something we don’t?”

  William plucked a late blooming flower from a vine to smell it. No scent emanated from the bloom, but its beauty pulled at him. The petals were soft and warm from the sun. He’d gained a new appreciation for nature of late. Funny how almost dying did that to a man.

  Twirling the flower between his fingers, he considered Henry’s question before brushing it aside. “From what I understand, she’s never met him, so I don’t see how that could be. He may not be the kindest of men, but he’s a bishop. Though she seems to have something against him, for she offered to double our pay if we left her alone.”

  Henry chuckled. “She tried to bribe you then seduce you all in one breath. You’ve got to admire the pluck of the lady. The journey back to Longsbury could prove interesting.”

  William stretched his sore shoulder then hissed as pain shot through it.

  “Shoulder bothering you again?” Henry asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

  “I’m starting to think it will never truly heal.” The lingering effects of his nearly fatal injury were irritating as hell. The better part of the past fortnight had been spent riding a horse in chain mail, not a wise notion for a man still recovering from a serious wound.

  “Humph. Better than the alternative. Laying flat on your back buried in dirt with a gravestone planted on top of you would be far worse.”

  “True.” Trust Henry to strike to the heart of the matter. Nonetheless, it was frustrating to continue to feel the affect of the injury he’d received last spring.

  “Are you feeling holy enough yet?” Henry asked, one blue eye open to scrutinize him.

  William couldn’t help but smile. He and Henry had been through a lot together over the years, but Henry didn’t understand William’s change in attitude since his injury. How could William explain that his close brush with death had granted him a second chance at life?

  A chance he didn’t deserve.

  He’d thought on the matter long and hard during his convalescence and realized he’d done little to earn that sort of favor thus far in his life.

  But he intended to change that.

  “Repaying God isn’t necessary,” Henry muttered as he shifted on the bench. “It wasn’t your time to die.” He absently scratched the jagged scar that ran across his cheekbone, his own reminder that life was precious.

  They’d had this conversation many times before. Henry seemed to be waiting patiently for William to come to his senses so they could return to the life they’d previously had: journeying from tournament to tournament, winning wealth and ladies where they could.

  “Working for the bishop is no hardship for us. He pays well,” William reminded his friend.

  “I still say it seems wrong for someone devoted to God to have that much money.”

  William had no response as the same question had crossed his mind, but he didn’t think it would aid his cause to admit that to Henry. “I know you’re close enough to God for both of us, but I feel the need to forge my own relationship with Him.”

  Henry snorted. “We’re no more than glorified errand boys. And I’m not certain the path to God lies through the bishop.”

  “It can’t hurt. Besides, this work pays nearly as much as jousting.”

  He and Henry had met at a tournament across the Channel in Poitou many years before, and they’d traveled together ever since. Henry’s skill with a sword had earned him a fierce reputation. William’s talent had been on the jousting field, but in his present health, he couldn’t return to that way of life.

  Nor did he want to.

  William had been struck with a lance and blamed for killing a fellow knight. The angry lord who thought William had killed his son captured him and threw him in his dungeon. Upon his release, William had been left at his brother’s holding on death’s bed. His recovery had been long and painful.

  When Henry had finally found him, he’d given him hell for disappearing from the tournament, and then refused to leave until William was well enough to accompany him on their next adventure. A more loyal friend could not be found, of that William was certain.<
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  “Our next mission should prove interesting,” Henry said. “Transporting a religious relic will surely earn our place in heaven.”

  William ignored Henry’s sarcasm. “I’d say we should expect some trouble on that trip. The relic is said to be extremely valuable. I’ll be pleased when that journey is over and done.”

  “Don’t you find it odd that the bishop delayed that more important errand to have us bring him the lady? If time was of the essence regarding the relic, it doesn’t make sense that he changed his mind.”

  William agreed, but his answer was interrupted by the arrival of the abbess of the convent who glided into the courtyard in her simple black tunic. “Greetings to you both.”

  “And to you, Abbess,” William said, as Henry rose to his feet. “Is Lady Cristiana ready?”

  Abbess Catherine cleared her throat, her previously serene expression marred by a crease in her brow. “I fear she doesn’t understand the honor bestowed upon her by Bishop Duval’s request to become her protector.”

  Henry coughed, and William sent him a warning look. The abbess was the last person to whom they should express any doubt about the bishop.

  “Regardless of that, my orders are to bring her to Bishop Duval.” William hoped the abbess didn’t intend to stand in his way.

  “So you shall, but Lady Cristiana won’t be ready to travel until the morrow.”

  “But we need to leave at once,” William argued. “We’re already behind schedule. We have another pressing mission awaiting our return.”

  “I’m certain the bishop won’t mind waiting another day. The poor dear is exhausted.”

  “But, Abbess—”

  “I’ll hear no more on the matter, Sir de Bremont.”

  Her stern expression reminded him of reprimands from his mother. He promptly shut his mouth.

  “There is something else I wanted to mention to you before you leave,” the abbess continued. Her vivid blue eyes held his for a long moment.

  Curious, he nodded for her to continue.

  “Lady Cristiana is...special. All God’s children are, of course, but Cristiana especially so. I hope you can see past her independent nature to the caring person beneath. Sometimes she cares overmuch.”

  “I’m not certain I understand.” William shared a look with Henry, but the older knight shook his head, obviously not grasping the abbess’s meaning either.

  “You will soon enough,” she continued. “When she tires, and she will, make sure she sleeps.”

  William’s annoyance rose. The lady required special care? As if carting a woman about the countryside wasn’t enough of a problem? Already they would be delayed a day and now this.

  “You should also know that she recently lost her mother and still grieves deeply. I’d hoped time would ease her odd notions, but...” Abbess Catherine waved her hand. “Never mind. I’m certain everything will work out for the best. After all, it will be in God’s hands.”

  Perhaps Lady Cristiana was indeed daft as he’d first thought. Was that what the abbess was trying to tell him? “We will see her safely to the bishop.”

  “I’m sure you will. Sister Mawde will be accompanying you as well.”

  “Who?” Henry asked, his look of dismay almost comical.

  “Sister Mawde.” The abbess glanced between the two men. “Surely you didn’t expect the lady to travel alone with you?”

  William nearly groaned in frustration. In truth, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Nay, Abbess Catherine. We also have two of the bishop’s men-at-arms accompanying us.”

  “That is all very well, but another woman’s presence is necessary.”

  “Of course the lady should have a proper escort.”

  “I’m glad you agree. I’ll bid you good day. One of the sisters will show you to a room shortly. I’ll see you both come morn.” She departed, gliding out as silently as she’d entered.

  Henry heaved a sigh. “Just what we need. Another person to travel with. A sister no less, not to mention the ‘special’ lady.”

  “What do you suppose the abbess was trying to tell us?”

  “I have no idea. I prefer people to say what they mean. My first wife often made subtle comments, and I told her it didn’t do a bit of good.”

  “And your second wife?”

  Henry grinned. “She made things much simpler. Clubbed me over the head if I didn’t understand her meaning the first time. God rest her soul.”

  “Let’s hope our surprises are over and we can return to Longsbury without incident.” Somehow, William doubted things would go as smoothly as he wished.

  ***

  That night, Cristiana lay on the hard pallet of her narrow cell in the convent. Exhaustion tugged at her, an aftereffect of healing which wouldn’t leave until she’d slept, but her mind continued its tumult, making sleep impossible.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She’d sworn that morn when she’d risen that she’d never sleep within these walls again, yet here she was. Frustrated, she wiped away her tears and cursed her poor luck for the tenth time. To have been so close to freedom only to lose it was upsetting, irritating, and disheartening all rolled into one.

  Despite the events of the day, she still had to find a way to escape. She didn’t know how her mother had known Bishop Duval nor had she pried from her the reason she’d been so adamant that Cristiana keep away from him. Her warnings made Cristiana wary of the man, yet she had no choice but to pursue the only clues she had.

  The best place—the only place—to start was with the very man whom her mother had warned her. When she added that with the location of her mother’s murder—on the road to Longsbury—Cristiana knew where she needed to go. Never mind that her mother had lied to her about her whereabouts. Cristiana pushed aside that hurt for now. She had to follow her journey to see what she could discover. That would be nearly impossible if she was in the bishop’s care.

  Memories of her mother paraded through her mind and her tears turned to sobs. She missed her so much. She missed the quiet life they’d had—the servants, the villagers—she missed it all. One day she hoped to return but knew her life would never be the same.

  Lonely days and nights stretched before her, and fear clawed its way into her belly. While she had long ago accepted her gift, it isolated her from others, and she worried she was destined to spend her life alone now that her mother had died.

  None of that mattered now. Not yet.

  First, she had a vow to fulfill. She owed it to her mother to find out who had stolen their lives from them. And when she did, she would make them pay.

  The knight who had come to fetch her would find her gone come first light.

  ***

  Cristiana slept longer than she’d intended, but the quiet around her reassured her that she had time to slip away while everyone else was still abed.

  As she stepped out of the convent, the coolness of the pre-dawn air reminded her that autumn had come in full. The thought of finding places to spend the night where she wouldn’t become chilled to the bone gave her pause as she thought over her hastily formed plan. While seeking out a distant cousin who lived near Longsbury had seemed a sound idea, executing it now was another matter. Longsbury was some distance from here.

  But her determination was strong.

  A few cold nights on the road was nothing compared to what her mother had endured the night she’d been murdered.

  As quietly as possible, she eased open the door of the stable. The darkness that greeted her was so complete she waited a moment inside until her eyes adjusted. She set the bag that held her things at the entrance so she’d have her hands free to saddle her horse. Once again, she’d donned most of her clothes and put only a few items in the small bag in case she had to slip away without it.

  The familiar smell of hay and animals eased her nerves. A soft whinny made her smile. Impatient to be on her way, she began to feel her way along the row of stalls toward the back where her mare was kept.

  As s
he reached the heart of the stable, she saw the vague outlines of stalls. The horses’ movements were comforting, their snorts giving her a better sense of where she was. She ran her hand along the stall doors to keep her balance. The wood was worn smooth from constant use in some places, yet rough in others. Her fingers trailed across woolen fabric, and she stopped, trying to place the feel with what she knew to be in the stable. She patted it curiously.

  “You are awake very early, my lady.”

  Cristiana jerked her hand away as fright stole her breath. That deep voice could belong only to the knight sent to fetch her. Other than a few servants, no men resided at the convent. Blast him!

  “As are you, sir.” She fought to keep her voice from trembling.

  “Where is it you’re going?” the irksome man asked as he reached out to steady her.

  “I...I wanted to prepare my horse for the journey.”

  “A bit early, isn’t it?”

  “I like to be ready.”

  “Truly? How efficient of you.”

  He released her, and it was all she could do not to rub her arm where he’d held her to stop the tingling sensation. “That describes me well. I am nothing if not efficient.”

  “How interesting. Allow me to assist you.”

  “No need. I’m certain you have many other duties to perform before we depart.”

  “But I insist. Which horse is yours?” He took her elbow and turned her toward the rear of the stable.

  She jerked her elbow from his grasp. “I prefer to work alone.”

  “As do I.”

  She had the distinct impression that he was amused by her, though she could barely make out his features in the dim light.

  With a huff of breath, she led the way to the back, her mind racing to find another means of escape. The answer lay in getting rid of the knight. She certainly couldn’t overpower him. She’d tried to bluff him to no avail. Her attempt to bribe him had met with no success. There had to be another way.

  “Is Sister Mawde as efficient as you?” he asked.