“He is stubborn, you mean.”
“Aye,” he said with good nature, “the same asotherpeople I know.”
At the charge, Alesone laughed, the tension in her body easing. “I believe the trait is an admirable one.”
“Indeed. And one that nay doubt intrigues Thomas as well.”
She remained silent, embarrassed he would allude to Thomas or his feelings toward her. Neither would mulling over the fact change anything. The pad of leather upon stone echoed as they descended the turret.
“’Tis good to see him after all of these years.”
“You knew him as a child?” Little harm would come in getting to know a bit more about Thomas, a man who regardless of his own feelings toward her, intrigued Alesone.
“When we were lads, Thomas and I would spar in the lists. Later on, I received the calling. When he arrived at the monastery intent on becoming a monk too, you can imagine my surprise.”
Unsure if she was more stunned to learn Thomas had once intended to devote his life to God, or that he’d made such a complete change of direction and became a man of war, she frowned. “That explains his devout manner.”
“What do you mean?”
“Several times since we met, I have seen Thomas praying, more than is common.”
Understanding filled his gaze. “And have you noticed any other abnormal traits?”
At his teasing, heat stole up her cheeks. “Nay unusual,” she rushed out, “but he is pious, more than most that havena become men of the cloth.”
Torchlight illuminated his face as he nodded. “Dinna worry, I understood what you meant. I was but—”
Hurried steps echoed from below. “Brother Nicholai!”
Nerves shot through Alesone as a young monk, his expression panicked, rushed up the steps.
Worry lined Nicholai’s brow. “Wait here.” He met the younger man halfway down the turret.
Fragments of the man’s terse whispers sifted up.
Nicholai nodded, quietly replied.
With a nod, the young monk hurried away.
Mouth grim, Nicholai returned.
Unease filled Alesone. “What is wrong?”
“’Twould seem there are visitors at the gate.”
Fear slid through Alesone, and she prayed she was wrong. “Who?”
“Lord Comyn’s men.”
Chapter Six
Alesone turned away from Brother Nicholai and managed to bank the rush of terror, barely. Grisel had lost her life to her father’s ruthless men, and byHisGrace, Thomas’s life was spared. All for what? To be found? For her father’s nefarious plans with King Philip to succeed?
Nay!
The Brother cleared his throat. “Ales—”
She whirled, prayed she was wrong, but needed to confirm her worst fear. “Comyn’s men are here for me, are they nae?”
