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The man approached him. "Aye?"
Alex paused, unsettled by the man not addressing him as "my lord." Though Alex didn't hold Gealach legally, the people had nonetheless taken to addressing him as the laird.
"Where is this wine going?"
"Lord Graham has ordered it for the wedding tomorrow. A Graham la.s.s to Lord Carlisle."
A mixture of panic and relief washed over Alex. He nodded mutely. So the deed was not done, but it would be tomorrow. That left him little time. He entered the alehouse and sought out the owner. He was directed to the back where he found the young blond man pointing out casks to be carried to the wagon.
"Sandy, what happened?"
Sandy's brown eyes widened in surprise. "Ye're back, my lord!" His thick, pale brows then lowered in consternation. "I'm supposing ye're wantin' to take the tower back?" When Alex just stared at him incredulously, he nodded briskly. "I see ye do. Could ye but wait 'til after the wedding? Business hasna been so guid in years."
"That's a fine welcome."
Sandy shrugged sheepishly. "He's paying in gold coin, my lord."
Alex's gold coin, likely. Alex no longer held out hope that Ridley hadn't found the tunnels beneath the tower. "Whatever Lord Graham has sent for, I will pay double. There will still be a wedding, but it will be mine."
Sandy rubbed his hands together, a genuine smile spreading across his ruddy face. "Very guid, my lord. What can I help ye wi'?"
"When did Lord Graham take Gealach?"
"The day afore yesterday. It happened sae quick-like we didna hear of it till the deed was done."
"When is the wedding to take place?"
"Tomorrow noon, followed by a feast."
"Did he bring a priest? Who is to wed them?"
Sandy gestured through the doorway into the tavern. "He sent to Rees Abbey for yon priest. They stopped for a dram afore climbing the tower road."
Alex went to the doorway and peered out. The alehouse was crowded, but he spotted colorful vestments and tonsured heads seated near the wall. Alex's eyes narrowed in recognition. Father Rae's shiny pate bobbed in boisterous conversation. Two monks accompanied the priest. Long suppressed anger rose in Alex. Father Rae made his home at Rees and had been responsible for much of Laine's religious instruction. He'd also been solely responsible for Laine's abuse, though the brothers were guilty of ignoring what went on in their sacred halls.
Alex crossed the alehouse, coming to stand before the priest's table. Father Rae glanced up briefly, returning his gaze to the bowl of stew before him. His head jerked back up, eyes bulging. His chair sc.r.a.ped as he stood hastily. "I-I'm here under the abbot's orders-to-to-"
"I know why you're here," Alex said.
The two cowled monks stood-a nefarious-looking pair, low browed and hairy. One reached surrept.i.tiously into his robes and came out with a gleaming dagger.
"Sit." Alex pointed to the benches.
Father Rae seemed to consider his options, his gaze darting about the room.
"I let you live once, Father. I'm not in a generous humor today."
Father Rae swallowed hard and resumed his seat. The other monks followed suit.
Alex slid in beside Father Rae, so close their arms touched. Alex's men hovered nearby, hands on sword hilts.
"Well, Father... going to a wedding, eh?"
Sweat sheened the priest's high forehead and long upper lip. "You cannot intimidate me."
Alex smiled with no humor, fixing the priest with his most threatening stare. Better men than Father Rae had quailed under such a look and the priest was no exception. He quickly lowered his eyes, folding his trembling hands on the table.
"I recall telling ye once, never challenge me."
"What do you want?" Father Rae said to his hands. "I haven't touched... since Laine. There have been no others. I swear it."
"I'm glad to hear it. And now, I need something from you."
The priest exhaled loudly. "Why should I help you?"
"Because your soul is nearly lost."
Father Rae turned his head slightly to frown at Alex. "I have cast that life aside, I told you."
"Laine died cursing your name till the end."
The color drained from Father Rae's face. He licked his twitching lips. "Laine's death has naught to do with me."
For days now Alex had refused to dwell on Laine's haunted life and senseless death but the rage surfaced as he stared at the perpetrator. Heat swept up his neck and he wrapped his hand around Father Rae's wrist, squeezing so hard the priest's fingers spasmed. "Laine's death has everything to do with you. If not for your depravity he would be a novice, preparing to take his vows, rather than an angry boy that cursed G.o.d." Alex held the priest's gaze. "You'll answer for it, you unG.o.dly b.a.s.t.a.r.d, when you meet the Maker, but for now, you'll make amends. Starting with me."
Father Rae tried with little effect to extricate his wrist from Alex's grip. "I have done no wrong. I owe you naught."
"Aye, you do owe me. I spared your life. Had I killed you, you'd still be stuck in the circles of h.e.l.l. But you're alive and given the chance to mend your ways, to earn back G.o.d's grace."
Sweat beaded the priest's upper lip. "I've done no wrong," he said weakly, as if trying to convince himself.
" 'If thou wilt have true and everlasting life, keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile; turn away from evil and do good.' "
Father Rae's forehead furrowed, his breath panting between thin lips. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then apparently thought better of speaking more guile.
Alex leaned closer, pinning the priest's wrist harder onto the tabletop. "Is that you, Father? Or have you still a ways to go?"
Father Rae sighed finally, his shoulders slumping. "What do you require of me?"
Once again, Fayth found herself confined to a room, waiting for her impending doom, or in this case, her wedding. Carlisle had visited her. She'd told him with relish that she had lain with Alex, that she might even carry his child. Unfortunately, this information did not infuriate him as she'd hoped. Rather than call the betrothal off, he sent for the midwife to examine her. He threatened that if any evidence of pregnancy was found he'd lance the sp.a.w.n out himself. Fayth prayed she was not with child. She'd heard how midwives and witches rid women of unwanted babies. It was not a process many women lived through.
Fayth sat on her bed, her hands and ribs and head throbbing. But all of her new bruises and wounds seemed trivial to what was to come. Oh Alex, please come for me. She stared down at the bed. They'd lain here together. She'd become his wife in all but name and she held that to her breast, hoping it meant as much to him as it had to her. He would come, she didn't doubt that, but would it be for her, or for the tower? That she didn't know the answer hurt her worse than she'd believed possible.
Her shutters were thrown wide. The dawn quickly burnt off into a blazing afternoon sun. How could the sun shine on such a day? It mocked her despair, belittled it. Soon she would be wed and though she might later run away, the vows could not be undone.
The door to her chamber opened and Ridley entered, followed by two Graham men and three large, muscular women. He held a small parcel wrapped in velvet.
Fayth stood.
"I wish you to make the acquaintance of the goodwife Gunna, the local midwife."