Bond of Passion (32 page)

Mother of all mercies!
Annabella swallowed back a gasp. It had to be Angus, and they were still tied to the pier. “I think I’ll stay on deck until we’re under way,” she said. “The day has been warm. I’ll welcome the sea breeze.”

“Suit yerself,” the lad said. “When ye’re ready, just call me. Ye hae better find yerself a spot out of the way, for we are about to cast off.”

“Thank ye,” Annabella said to him, and he hurried off. She found a small sheltered spot, and sat down upon a barrel top to watch as the ship was made ready to sail. The gangway was drawn up. The ropes holding her to her dockage space were released. The sails were slowly raised by sailors both upon the deck and scrambling above the deck untying the rolled-up sheets, fastening them down where they should be.

They were suddenly moving away from the great stone quay. She could feel the gentle motion of the waves beneath the vessel. They were away! She remained upon the deck as they finally cleared the harbor, moving out into the Firth of Forth. The ship continued its passage, but Annabella could feel a change in the sea as the vessel moved along. It seemed deeper suddenly. Eventually a small island came into view. She knew from her own lessons as a girl that it was known as the Isle of May. Once there had been a monastery located upon it, but no one lived there now but creatures.

The sun set and the twilight filled the sky. Annabella remained on the deck watching as they left the Firth of Forth, moving out into the open sea. A light wind filled the ship’s sails. It was surprisingly cool, but then, autumn was almost upon them. Annabella pulled her cloak about her. The sky above her was now dark, and bright stars began to twinkle. She shivered. She was going to have to go in sooner rather than later. Maybe Angus would be asleep.

As if anticipating her need, the cabin boy appeared. “I hae time to take ye to yer cabin, Master Hamilton. Will ye be coming along then?”

“Aye,” Annabella said, standing up. “Lead on, lad.” Then she followed him.

He led her below the main deck. At the bottom of the stairs he opened a door, saying, “The nobleman is wi’ my da right now, but he’ll return soon enough.”

“I’ve ridden a long way the past few days, and slept along the road. Yon bunk seems fine to me,” Annabella said. “I’ll be going to sleep now.”

“Aye,” the lad said. “’Tis as good a pastime as any. Good night then.” And he was gone, scrambling up the narrow ladder that served as a staircase.

The cabin had three bunks built into the wall. One stood alone, and the earl’s cape lay upon it. The other two bunks were set one above the other. Annabella considered sleeping on the top, but decided against it. Instead, setting her saddlebag beneath it, she sat down upon the bottom bunk, wondering how fresh the straw in the mattress might be.

She pulled off her boots, setting them with the saddlebag. Then, hearing footsteps outside, she lay down, pulled up her cloak, faced the wall, and feigned sleep as the door to the cabin opened.

His footsteps crossed the floor to his bunk. She heard him grunt softly as he pulled his boots off and stored them beneath his bed. She heard the straw in his mattress crunch as he settled himself. She was scarcely breathing, but then Angus began to make the gentle little snuffling noise that indicated he was sliding into a deep sleep. Annabella relaxed. While she would attempt to conceal her identity from him as long as possible, the worst was now over. By morning they would be far at sea and on their way to Brittany. There was no way he could send her back to Duin now. She slid into her own deep slumber, feeling vastly relieved.

The next few days passed quickly. Annabella formed a simple routine. She would appear in the galley in midmorning, where the cook would give her a bowl of hot porridge and a slice of bread and cheese. The food, she learned from the talkative cook, was better on voyages of shorter duration, as theirs would be. The fresh bread they took on in Leith as well as meat could be stored without going bad and becoming maggoty. She was always alone in the galley at this time of day. The earl and the captain seemed to have common interests. The seamen went about their duties. The other two passengers, the father and son, remained in their cabin, as the cabin boy had said they would.

As the earl ate in the captain’s cabin each evening, Annabella was free to collect her meal when she chose. She would take it to her cabin, eat, and return the bowl to the cook. She spent her days either seated upon the barrel watching the sea, or in the cabin sleeping. She managed her personal needs quickly, and as soon as the earl left the cabin in the morning. She ate and drank sparingly, thus saving herself from seasickness.

The night before they were to land at Brest, the ship was overtaken by a storm that tossed the vessel hither and yon. Thunder roared, and lightning cracked ferociously all around them. The sails were brought down to keep them from being blown too far off course. But the storm did not last more than a few hours, and by early dawn they were sailing between Île d’Ouessant and the coast of Brittany. Annabella was amazed that her first fears when the ship began to rock had quickly subsided, and she was brought to ill-concealed hilarity at the sounds coming from the smaller cabin next door.

Her fellow passengers were really not good travelers. Their howls of anguish followed by their equally loud prayers to Saint Christopher and the blessed Mother did not allow for sleep, even if the fierce storm had. The earl had not returned to the cabin at all, and Annabella imagined he kept company with the captain. Now, as the noon hour approached, the ship entered the landlocked harbor of Brest on the Penfield River. The town was set on the two hillsides, divided by the river and dominated by its dark stone castle. The town had been part of the dower portion of Claude, the daughter of Anne, the Duchess of Brittany, when she had married Fran-çois I.

Annabella made certain that her plait was securely pinned beneath her cap. She couldn’t believe that she had had the good fortune to elude her husband’s eye in such close quarters during their voyage. But, of course, Angus was concerned with clearing his good name. He would hardly consider that his wife had disobeyed him and followed after him. Now, however, she had to find a place to rent a horse so she might follow Angus to his late mother’s home to learn the truth of what had happened. She gathered up her saddlebag and went out on the deck.

The other passengers were already assembled. The father and son looked to be a shade of pale gray-green. They were obviously not over their travel sickness. Annabella caught the sleeve of the cabin boy, asking him where she might hire a horse.

“Just follow the nobleman, sir. He is going to the stables, and the captain has already given him the directions.”

Annabella thanked the lad.

The gangway was lowered. The earl strode down it, followed by the father and son. Annabella came last, her saddlebag over her shoulder as she hurried behind the earl, following but attempting not to attract his attention at the same time. He reached his destination, bargained for his mount, and waited for it to be saddled. Annabella did the same. Fortunately the animals were led out together. She paid the stable owner and mounted up first, pretending to fuss with her saddlebag while she waited for the earl to complete his transaction and be on his way.

Finally he was ready. Mounting up, he rode off. Annabella followed, keeping her husband in sight, but leaving a careful distance between them. Just as they left the town behind, she noticed a horseman enter the road from a side lane. She heard another rider behind her. She didn’t know why, but all her instincts were suddenly aroused. In his travels from Duin to Leith nothing had caught her interest as did the man before her and the man behind her. Was it her imagination, or were they following after Angus?

As the late summer sun set and twilight spilled over the land, Annabella began to worry. If they had to sleep rough this night, would the other riders use the cover of darkness to attack the earl? The man ahead of her turned off the road. She rode on by him, but her ears strained for sounds of the man behind her. He turned off the road too.

Was it a coincidence? Then she saw a lighted structure ahead of her. It was an inn, and the earl was turning his mount into the inn-yard. She turned her horse too, instructing the stableman in precise French to check its feet for stones, then feed, water, and stable it until she was ready to leave.

He entered the inn just ahead of her. The taproom was not crowded, and the inn upon close inspection was just barely respectable. She watched as the earl sought a table in a corner that allowed him to keep his back to the wall while observing the whole room. The landlord, recognizing nobility when he saw it, hurried over to personally serve the earl. Annabella chose a small table placed in such a way that she could see both the door to the inn and her husband’s table. A serving wench came to inquire what she would eat, recommending the pot-au-feu. Annabella ordered it, along with a small goblet of wine.

An elderly serving woman struggled over to the earl’s table beneath a large tray of food. The landlord had obviously given the earl everything in the kitchen. Annabella hid her grin. Angus had a good appetite, but she knew he also preferred his food plain and well cooked. She watched him as she slowly ate her own pot-au-feu, which was surprisingly good. It was full of vegetables and bits of clearly identifiable poultry. If she wasn’t mistaken it was flavored with both ground pepper and wine. There was a thick slice of warm fresh bread spread with butter that she dipped into the soup.

Angus, on the other hand, took a large piece of beef, bread, butter, cheese, and what appeared to be a salad of new greens. The rest he told the old woman with a warm smile to return to the kitchen. “Tell your master that I am a man of simple tastes, old mother,” Annabella heard her husband say. The old woman chuckled and tottered off. Annabella watched as her husband devoured his meal. Would he remain here, or would he attempt to travel on in the dark? she wondered.

The innkeeper came and announced to the few guests eating, “Alas, monsieurs, I am a small establishment. I have no rooms to let, but you are all most welcome to remain the night where you are now seated. Or you may share the barn with your horses. Either way it will cost you a copper more in addition to your meal.” He then walked from table to table to collect his coins.

The four other men in the room elected to retire to the barn. The earl, however, remained, and so did Annabella. The candles were snuffed, and only the fire remained to take the night chill from the room as well as light it. Annabella found a comfortable position, pulled her cloak about her, and nodded off after taking a quick look at her husband, who appeared to have done the same.

Annabella didn’t know for how long she slept, but suddenly she was wide-awake. She focused her eyes and saw the inn door had opened. Two men quickly and quietly stepped into the inn. Even in the dim light of the single candle that had been left burning, Annabella knew they were the same men who had followed the earl from Brest. What on earth was this all about? The two hesitated briefly, looking about. Then one pointed to the Earl of Duin, who was apparently sleeping deeply as he sat hunched over behind his table.

What was she going to do? Annabella knew immediately that the intent of these two was wicked. The men stepped into the small dining room. Her eyes wide open in the darkness, she saw one draw something from his waist. A weapon?
A knife!
They crept forward, moving stealthily, heading directly for the Earl of Duin. Closer and closer they came, and just as she shouted out a warning, Angus Ferguson stood up.

“Are you looking for me, monsieurs?” he said in a pleasant voice. His French was perfect, and even tinged with a bit of Breton.

The assassins stopped, confused, gazing up at the shadow of the very tall man. But then the one with the knife leaped forward. The earl caught him quickly, and twisted the weapon from his hand. There was the distinct sound of a breaking bone. The knife dropped to the inn floor with a clatter. The cutthroat howled in pain as his companion dashed for the inn’s front door. The wounded man turned and stumbled after him.

“Are you one of them too?” the earl asked in the darkness.

“
Non
, monsieur,” Annabella managed to say, but her voice cracked as she spoke. She had been absolutely terrified by what had just transpired, knowing she would have been helpless to aid her husband had he actually needed assistance. It was then that Annabella truly realized for the first time the madness of this venture she had undertaken. She should have insisted that Matthew go with him. She would have been of more use to her husband keeping the castle than trailing after him disguised as a young man. A sob escaped her with the knowledge that she had possibly put him in even greater danger.

Angus Ferguson heard the sound. It was clearly female. But the only other person in the room was a young man. Or was it? He stood up again, walking out into the entry and picking up the lit candlestick. Coming over to where Annabella sat hunched up, he reached out with one hand. Annabella drew back, trying desperately to keep her head down, but his fingers grasped her chin, and he held the candle high. Their eyes met, hers terrified, his filled with astonishment.

“
Annabella!
” he said. And then, “Jesu and Mary, woman! Did I nae tell ye
no
?” He set the candle down upon the table, and then sat next to her.

“I had to come, Angus!” she burst out. “Something deep inside me warned that ye would be in danger if ye came alone. I realize now I should hae insisted Matthew come wi’ ye. When I saw those awful men just now attempting to kill ye, and I didn’t know what to do, or how I might help ye other than shouting out, I realized my own foolishness, but I love ye so, my lord. I love ye so verra much. I should rather die wi’ ye than be wi’out ye, Angus. Do ye understand? Can ye forgie me?”

He put his arms about her. “I love ye too, ye stubborn, wonderful woman,” he told her. “I probably wouldn’t hae let Matthew come wi’ me, and he would hae obeyed my directives and been loyal.” Aye, he loved her. And the thought of her facing any danger because of him was terrifying.