Hannah Howell (11 page)

Although she closed her fingers tightly over the coins, she hissed, “This insult will be remembered.”

“It had best be forgotten. This game ye have stumbled into far outweighs your petty jealousies and tantrums. If I ever have reason to believe ye have been the cause of trouble for me, I shall still that clattering tongue of yours forever.”

Revan pushed past her and headed toward his chambers. He ignored the insulting and ribald comments of the group of men he passed who loudly questioned his manhood because he had pushed the fulsome Mary away. As he hurried up the narrow wooden steps to the room where Tess was waiting for him, he tried to think of a way to explain why he stank of Mary’s somewhat cloying scent.

The moment he stepped into the room he had bought for the night, he forgot all about Mary, the trouble she could cause, or any explanations. Tess stood by the bed, smiling faintly and nervously, dressed as a woman should be. Her thick midnight hair tumbled over her slim shoulders and was gently held back from her face by two hairpins of bone. As he shut and bolted the door, she gathered up a little of her skirts in each hand and turned in a circle. The gown could not be considered in fashion, it was faded and it did not fit her perfectly, being a bit too long and too wide at the waist, but he thought she looked endearingly lovely.

“Ah, lass, when ye finally gain the gowns your fortune and birth can fetch you, every Scotsman with blood in his veins will be rendered speechless.” He tossed his cape and hat on a stool by the door and took a step toward her. “I ken it because of how ye flatter this wee pretty dress.”

Tess could feel the tingling heat of a blush cover her cheeks. “Mayhaps ’twas wrong to spend your coin so, but I saw this in the mercer’s shop and suddenly ached to be rid of my lad’s clothes, if only for a wee while.”

“Seeing you like this, how can I begrudge the cost?”

He took her into his arms and combed his fingers through her hair. Tess’s pleasure abruptly ended as she caught the scent of another woman upon his clothes, a heavy flowery scent that made her wrinkle her nose. In her mind the voice of caution advised her to ignore it. The woman’s scent might cling to his doublet, but the woman herself was not there. It was Tess he held. Then came the crisp voice of jealousy echoing through her mind, demanding to know just where he had been before he had come to her. Just where, when, and how had he gained the perfume upon his clothes?

“The blacksmith of this village must be a very odd fellow,” she murmured.

Revan pulled away a little to look down at her. The way she crinkled up her pretty nose and scowled at his doublet explained her strange words. He had briefly forgotten how Mary left her heavy scent on a man. It had been the one thing that had often left him displeased when they had been lovers.

“I fear I was accosted by a wench eager for a bit of coin.”

“Ye need offer me no explanations.” Tess suddenly began to heed the voice of caution.

“Nay, I dinna, but I will. The reasons I feel I owe ye one are too many to list, the greatest being that we are bound together in this time of danger and treachery.”

It pleased Tess to hear him speak of a bond even if it was not the sort she wished to share with him. She was also pleased that he felt there was reason to explain himself to her. He could just as easily have agreed that he owed her nothing. She much preferred this display of honesty. Yet, she inwardly grimaced, she prayed she would continue to be pleased after she had heard what he had to say.

“So ye were accosted, were ye?” She smiled faintly finding it easy to believe that a woman would work hard to try and catch Revan’s eye.

“Aye. I fear she scented the coin in my pocket.” He was debating the wisdom of admitting to his past relationship with Mary when there was a rap at the door. “That should be our meal.”

“More than porridge, I pray.”

“Much more,” Revan answered as he opened the door, and two young boys hurried in with heavily laden trays.

Tess clasped her hands in delight and anticipation. The trays were loaded up with meat, bread, cheese, and wine. The boys had barely set them down upon the table near the window when she was there to inspect the feast. She ignored Revan’s soft laughter as he pressed a coin into each lad’s hand, then ushered them out of the room.

“Dinna wait upon me—begin,” he said as he shut and bolted the door.

After she set the tiny wooden bench closer to the table, Tess sat down but did not immediately start to eat. “I am not sure which to savor first.”

Revan sat on another small bench opposite her. “Ye had best not hesitate too long, or I shall have eaten it all.” He grabbed a still-warm loaf of bread and, after slipping his eating knife free of its sheath at his waist, began to slice it.

She helped herself to one of the thick slices of bread he cut and spooned some honey over it. Revan poured them each a tankard of wine. With only the occasional exchange of smiles over their gluttony, she and Revan proceeded to eat every morsel of food upon the trays.

When Revan offered her the last slice of bread, Tess shook her head and placed her hands over her stomach. “I am full nearly to bursting.”

“There is a cure for that.” Revan finished the last slice of bread and took a hearty drink of wine.

“Oh? And what might that be, other than to cease indulging in such wanton gluttony?”

He stood up and moved to stand beside her. “Well, first we must remove this tight bodice.” He began to unlace it.

As she watched him undo her gown, Tess smiled faintly. She did not need to see the look in his eyes to know that he was no longer thinking of her overindulgence at the table. His hope was to inspire her to another overindulgence—in the bed. That husky note of rising desire was in his voice. She felt her body begin to respond to it.

“Ah, so that I might breathe with more ease?”

“So I may breathe with less ease.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the high, curtained bed.

“And that will help to cure me of gluttony?” she asked as he laid her down on the bed, then sat down on the edge of it and began to tug off his boots.

“Let us say I hope to change the source of your gluttony from that of one for food to one for something else.” He laid down on his side next to her.

“I had suspected as much.” She put her arms about his neck and tugged him closer. “We are to halt here for the night?”

“Aye.” He began to brush soft, light kisses over her face. “The horse has been reshod, but so few hours were left to the day that there didna seem much point in moving on. Though the night will be a short one, as we must leave at first light, I saw no harm in our spending it in comfort.”

“Ye shall hear no complaint from me, but—are ye certain we can be safe here even through a short night?”

Only briefly did Revan consider Mary as a possible danger. The woman was uncommonly fond of her own skin. She may doubt the truth of his threats, but she would not dare to risk her life or beauty in challenging the worth of them.

“Ay, ’tis safe enough. No one shall disturb us.”

Mary cursed under her breath as she eluded the grasping hands of the two men she was serving. She slammed the tankards of ale down in front of them. They were handsome enough, but they had little coin to spare. And coin was what she needed. Without it she would be stuck in the tiny village until age robbed her of her beauty. When she had seen Revan, she had thought he was the answer to her prayers, that he would free her of the bonds of boredom and toil she was caught in all the while she lingered within the village.

She strode back to the bar, slouching against it, and cursed Revan yet again. He had scorned her, even threatened her. It infuriated her, but there was nothing she could do, no way she could make him pay for the insult he had dealt her.

The arrival of four well-armed men drew her out of her angry thoughts. They demanded ale, and she quickly filled tankards for them. Their armor was not that of a full knight but fine enough to hint at some coin in their purses, coin enough to be of use to her. As she neared the table the men sat round, she noticed that they wore the colors of the Douglas, and she saw the chance for even more gain. The Douglases owned nearly half of Scotland. The men who worked for such a powerful family had to be well paid and could even have some power themselves, if only through their liege lord. A little flattery, a little catering to their passions, and the day could yet prove to be a profitable one.

“Here, my fine stalwart soldiers,” she said, smiling invitingly as she set their tankards down on the table before them. “ ’Tis the sweetest ale in all of the borderlands.”

The tallest of the four wrapped his arm about her waist and tugged her close to his side. “And a fair maid to serve it to us. I can think of no better way to end
my
searching than to rest a night in your fair arms.”

“Spend the night where ye will, Howard,” said a short, burly man at his side. “But ’twill not mark the end of this search.”

“God’s tears, we have searched every inch of the borderlands and gained naught for our troubles.”

“Not
every
inch, and we had best not return to the Douglas with empty hands until we can swear to just that. He will hang us from his keep’s great walls and leave us there for the corbies to feast upon if he thinks we were slack in our duty.”

“What do ye search for?” Mary asked, allowing Howard to tug her down onto his lap.

“ ’Tis none of your concern, wench,” grumbled the short, burly man.

“Nay, yet I could be of some help.”

“Hah! Have ye heard of the reward offered? Is that it?”

“Nay. A reward, is there? Well, I should like a fair chance at it.”

The man opened his purse and set twenty-five gold riders upon the table. “This is the reward offered for aid in capturing or killing Sir Revan Halyard and his companion. And, so, wench, take your chance.”

Mary could not believe her luck. She reached for the coin only to have the man grab her tightly by the wrist, halting her. “The coin is mine.”

“Not until I am certain ye have earned it, wench. Ye have told me naught yet, if ye even ken anything of any worth.”

“The man ye seek is right over your heads, ye great fools.” She chuckled when each of them glanced upward.

“Ye mean Halyard is here—in this very inn?”

“Aye. He has taken a bedchamber above. He and his wench.”

“The lass is with him?”

“Oh, aye. The lass is dressed as a lad. She is the one ye look for, aye?”

“Aye.” He released her hand but quickly took up ten of the coins, allowing her to grab only fifteen.

“Here!” she cried and leapt to her feet. “Ye said the reward was all of that.”

“I have yet to see the proof of what ye have told us. In truth, why should I believe ye at all? How could some common tavern wench ken a king’s knight? Aye, and his secrets, his comings and goings?”

“Common tavern wench, am I?” she snapped. “I have refused far better men than you. Sir Revan Halyard was my lover for nigh onto a sixmonth when I was in Edinburgh. I ken the man very well indeed. He calls himself Wallace Frazer for the moment, but I wasna fooled. He and the skinny wench are in the best chamber. Just go up the stairs, and ’tis the door to your right. I will have the rest of that coin now.”

“Ye will have it when I have them. Come on, men,” he ordered the other three as he stood up and strode toward the narrow stairway. “This may be the night we can end this thrice-cursed search.”

Mary smiled as she watched them hurry up the stairway. She sat down and helped herself to one of their tankards of ale. When she heard them begin to try and break down the door, she wandered outside to stand beneath Revan’s window. If he was to die, she at least wished to hear it. It would pay for the insult he had dealt her.

“Open this door, Halyard!”

A thundering crash against the door followed that bellowed command. Revan leapt from the bed, cursing himself for a fool. He had heard sounds, noises that had alerted the soldier within him, but his hunger for Tess had held him in her arms. Instead of heeding what had been the sound of four well-armed men hurriedly approaching their room, he had continued to stroke and kiss Tess. That distraction had cost them a valuable minute or two. He yanked on his boots, grimly determined not to let his error cost them too dearly now.

“We are trapped,” Tess whispered even as she scrambled off of the bed and swiftly donned her boots.

“Nay, dearling. We may yet escape if we act swiftly.” He buckled on his sword. “Grab up all ye can safely carry and slip out through the window.”

“Halyard!” one of the men bellowed while they continued to hurl themselves against the door in an attempt to break into the bedchamber. “We ken ye are in there. Your Edinburgh whore told us.”

“Mary. That she-devil!” hissed Revan. “ ’Tis clear I didna pay her enough for her silence.”

Tess hesitated only a moment over the indication that the woman who had left her scent on Revan had been more than some unknown tavern wench. Now was a poor time to delve into the matter. The woman had betrayed them, and it was time to flee. With the saddle pack draped about her neck, the wineskin over her shoulder and a blanket tied about her waist, Tess hurried over to the window. One glance out of it left her certain that Revan had taken the room because of the ease with which they could flee it if the need arose. A series of shabby outbuildings cluttered the area below and provided an odd stairway to the ground. After shoving the table out of her way, she gathered her skirts, swung her leg over the sill, and looked toward Revan.

“Where to once we are on the ground?” she asked.

“Head to the blacksmith’s,” Revan answered even as he piled what little furniture there was in front of the door. “The horse will be tethered in back of his forge, saddle at hand. It seems the blacksmith smells the stink of treason in the air and wants no part of it. Go, Tessa. I will follow in but a moment.”

She cautiously climbed out of the window. It was necessary to tread warily for the roofs were of thatch. By the time she lowered herself from the last roof onto the ground, Revan was nimbly following her. She turned to start on her way to the blacksmith’s—and saw the woman.

Tess knew, instinctively, that it was Mary. A twinge of jealousy tore through her as she quickly surveyed Revan’s old lover. Mary was fulsome, possessing the sort of full, tempting curves Tess doubted she would ever have. Seeing what Revan was accustomed to, Tess began to seriously doubt her chances of holding on to the man. She was yanked from her dark thoughts by the sound of Revan jumping to the ground from the roof. Mary looked terrified.

“Ye betrayed me, Mary.” Revan grasped Tess by the arm, knowing he had no time to deal with Mary but needing to strike back in some small way. “Ye came here to listen to my death screams, but now ’twill be yours that will rent the night.”

“Nay, they forced me to tell them where ye were.” Mary held out her hands in a gesture of pleading as she cowered against the ivy-swamped wall of the inn. “I swear it. I had no choice.”

“How quickly and smoothly the lies fall from your lips. I have no time to deal with ye now, but I willna forget this betrayal. And, my greedy whore, by this act ye have placed yourself upon the side of treason against the king.” He nodded when she gasped in terror and fear. “Aye—treason. The Douglas plots against James the Second, and ye have just aided him. ’Twill be no simple, merciful hanging for the likes of you.”

“Nay! I didna ken their reasons for wanting you,” she protested. “I would never betray our king.”

“But ye just have. I hope your petty vengeance was worth the cost ye may yet have to pay.”

Revan heard the bellows of the men as they finally crashed into the room above and stumbled over all the furniture he had set before the door. Yanking Tess along after him, Revan sprinted toward the blacksmith’s. Mary’s pleas for forgiveness and pity were soon overridden by the cries of the men hunting him and Tess.

His horse was exactly where the blacksmith had promised it would be. Revan saddled it, securing the cinches even as Tess secured their belongings on the back of the animal. They had just mounted, Tess seated behind him, when four armed men rounded the corner of the smith’s forge. Revan spurred his horse right toward them, causing them to scatter out of the way. He heard their cries for mounts as he thundered toward the forest and, he prayed, safety.

 

 

Tess was more asleep than awake when she felt Revan rein his mount to a halt. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around. They were still surrounded by trees, but she was not sure which wooded area they were now sheltered in. She was not even sure which direction they had ridden in or for how long. That, she decided as she dismounted, was Revan’s concern and could remain so. She would only get them lost.

As Revan tended to his weary horse, she sat down. She had looked forward to a night in a real bed. It made her feel even more weary to have been thrust out of it into the night. The thought of another night spent on the ground was enough to make her want to scream.

That inclination increased tenfold when she glanced down at her dress. It had not been the finest of gowns, but it had made her feel like a lady for a little while. She had seen the appreciation in Revan’s eyes. There would be none there now. Her new gown was ruined. It was splattered with mud and torn in several places. It looked worse than her too-large boy’s attire. She looked a poor ragamuffin child again.

The urge to cry became achingly overpowering. Tess struggled against it as she tried to brush off some of the dirt upon her gown, but it was difficult. In her mind was the image of Mary and how very womanly she had appeared. The reminder that Mary was certainly a whore and had betrayed Revan did not help to dispel the image or ease the sadness it inflicted Tess with. She had wanted to be pretty for just a little while, to show Revan that she could do him proud. Instead, she sat there on the leaf-covered ground mud-splattered, ragged, and smelling like a horse. The quivering in her chin and lip told her she was rapidly losing the battle against tears. She cursed, for she badly wished to be strong, yet also ached to have a good wailing cry. Her hope that she could pull her tattered emotions together before Revan joined her proved a vain one. He strode over to sit at her side and stare at her.

“I fear we dare not light a fire.” Revan frowned as he studied her, trying to see her expression clearly in the dim light of a three-quarter moon. “Are ye all right, Tessa? Did ye hurt yourself climbing down from that window?”

Tess only shook her head to answer no, sure that her urge to cry would be clear in her voice if she tried to speak.

Revan reached out, gently grasped her by the chin, and turned her face directly toward him. He could only see her expression a little more clearly. Despite that he knew she was upset. To his surprise, and with a touch of dismay, he realized he could sense her mood, could almost feel it himself.

“I am sorry we were driven from our fine room at the inn. I truly thought I had paid Mary enough, aye, and threatened her enough, to silence her.”

“She recognized you, didna she?” Tess wondered if she would get the full truth about Mary now, and if she really wanted to hear it anyway.

“Aye, she did.” He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. “One’s past can sometimes be a troublesome thing and return to haunt one at the most inconvenient of times. Many months ago she and I spent a brief time together. I traveled to and from Edinburgh a great deal, and she was my lover there.”

“Edinburgh? Then why was she serving ale at a poor inn in a wee village?”

“She has kinsmen here, it seems, and she needed to flee Edinburgh. I didna ask why. That was of no interest to me. From what little she did say, it had something to do with her protector, his marriage, or mayhaps his new wife. ’Twas clear that she thought to take up with me again.”

“She was fair. And fulsome,” she muttered, unable to resist a brief glance down at her own small, slender body.

He put his arm about her shoulders and tugged her close. There was the hint of jealousy in her mood, and Revan discovered that he appreciated it. After the deep fear and rage he had experienced when Thurkettle’s men had planned to rape her, it was soothing to see that she, too, could suffer from the twisting bonds of possessiveness. At the moment, however, hers was breeding sadness, a sense of unworthiness, as she looked to herself and found herself lacking. It was nonsense, yet he found that he understood it. Inwardly he shook his head over his own vagaries.

Common sense told him to make some bland remark, some mildly flattering nonsense she would know meant nothing. He knew he would ignore common sense. Her sadness touched him, and he needed to soothe it.

It was yet more proof of what he had begun to suspect back at the inn. The suspicion had been born when he had turned aside Mary’s invitation. Mary was fulsome and skilled, a woman he would have bedded without hesitation before meeting Tess. Then he had seen Tess in her gown. There was no denying the sort of emotion that had gripped him then. He cared for the girl. It could be even worse than that, but he shied away from that knowledge.

“Aye, Mary is fulsome, but she is also a whore.” He kissed the tip of Tess’s nose when she glanced at him. “Ye dinna have the same curves as she, but that doesna dim the beauty of what ye do have. Aye, and I think it is perfection.” Although she blushed, she gave him a look of mild disbelief. “Did I not turn from that fullness to come to you? Mary couldna raise a spark of interest. All I thought on when I espied her was how to shut her mouth. I didna do that very well, either.”

“And so we had to run for our very lives yet again.”

“We shall be doing that until we reach the king.”

“Well, at least we have shaken this pack of hounds.”

“So it would appear, but I still do not dare to light a fire. The dark hides us, but it can also hide them. I dinna wish to give them a pretty beacon to follow straight toward us.”

“Nay, of course not.” She sighed and stared at the tattered hem of her gown. “That ride ruined my gown, poor old thing though it was.”

“Ye looked beautiful in it. If our fine supper had not been due, I should have shown my appreciation far more swiftly than I did.”

Tess was able to smile. He spouted no flowery phrases; his flattery was simple and unencumbered by any grand protestations. It made it much more believable. So did the memory of how he had looked at her when he had first seen her in the gown. His ardent gaze had made her feel beautiful. That was worth more than any pretty words.

“I am sorry I spent your coin without asking first, but when I saw it, I so wished to have it, I couldna resist. Just once I wanted ye to see me dressed as a lady should be, to see me as a woman.” She frowned when he slowly grinned, as it was an odd response to her soft admission.

“Tessa, after the first night we spent curled up together beneath the blankets, I have never had trouble seeing you as a woman. In truth, after my first surprise over seeing a lass dressed as a lad, I never gave much thought to what ye were wearing.” She shivered slightly, and he stood up. “I will fetch our blankets.”

She watched him as he got the blankets and spread one out upon the ground. It was nice to know that he felt no shame over her appearance. Yet, she was not sure it was particularly good that he had apparently paid little heed at all to the matter. Indifference was certainly not what she was longing for.

When the blanket was properly laid out, she moved to sit on it and tug off her boots. She lay down on her back and watched as Revan did the same. He settled himself at her side and spread two blankets over them. She smiled faintly when he next tugged her into his arms.

“Did ye truly take no notice of what I wore?”

“I will confess that I am not a man who pays much heed to fashion anyway. But I doubt that ignorance would make much difference. I truly gave it little thought. Occasionally I did think it more suitable for the trials we have been forced to endure.” He idly nibbled her ear. “One thing I did think on when I saw ye in this gown, besides deeming ye very lovely, indeed, was how ye should have chests full of fine gowns.”

“Chests full?” She began to unlace his doublet.

“What should I ever do with so many?”

“Blind near every man in Scotland, as is your right, a right Thurkettle and his cursed daughter have denied you.”

“At the moment that is the very least of their crimes.” After he gave her a little help in tugging off his doublet, she began to unlace his shirt.

“There are times I think it the greatest of their crimes,” he murmured.

For a little while they said nothing, just quietly worked to undress each other. Tess was moved by his honest concern for how poorly she had been treated by her Thurkettle kin. Even better was that there was not a hint of pity, only outrage on her behalf. She did stir more than his passion. It was not quite the depth of emotion she wanted, but it was enough to give her hope.

The moment she had him undressed to his braies and she wore only her linen shift, she moved to sprawl on top of him. Tess decided it was past time to do more than hope. She was going to work a little more assertively to reach his heart. And, she mused, if she still hadna won his heart at the end of this travail, at least she would have set herself firmly in his memory.

“And this Mary was skilled, was she?” She brushed her lips over his.

“Aye, as any whore must be. But ’tis not necessarily skill that can fire a man’s blood, lass. What ye may lack in skills, ye make amends for in the honesty of your passion. In truth, at times your innocence stirs me more than any practiced hand ever has. Now and again I have even found myself wishing I could have come to your arms with an equal innocence,” he whispered, cupping her face in his hands and stealing a fuller kiss before she neatly eluded his grasp.