At the emphasis of his words, she swallowed hard. If he had recognized her when introduced, wouldn’t he have used her proper address? Slowly, praying she was wrong and he hadn’t identified her, she turned.
The bishop had halted several paces away, his face cast in shadows.
She wished she could see his expression. “I deeply appreciate your offer of protection,” she said, grateful her voice revealed none of her distress. “Colyne has informed me of your making arrangements for my departure. I am thankful to you for those as well.”
“’Tis my pleasure. I only wish that danger wasna about and I could offer you a room more deserving of your station.”
Unease trickled through her. “The chamber you provided is adequate.”
He stepped into the light, his gaze shrewd. “It would be if your father was nae King Philip.”
Chapter 14
Marie’s legs trembled, but pride held her still. “You know who I am?”
The bishop gave a slow nod. “I visited your father two years past. While there, I saw a painting of you in the solar.” His mouth settled into a tempered frown. “Why have you nae told Colyne?”
As much as she wished to deny the truth, ’twould serve no purpose. “At first,” she admitted, “because he was a stranger.”
“After Elizabet, your deception will be a great blow to him.” He quirked a brow. “I assume you know of her?”
Grief welled inside her. “I never meant to hurt him.”
His mouth tightened. “But you will.”
“I must. If my father learned of our . . .”
“Indiscretions?” the bishop supplied.
Heat warmed her face. “Oui.If my father knew, he might unleash his anger by demanding Colyne’s life. A risk I cannot take.”
“I have known Colyne since childhood. He is a good man and holds a formidable title. Mayhap if I speak with your father, ’tis possible—”
Marie shook her head, gathered every ounce of courage as she faced this man of God, needing to admit her sin. “I am betrothed to Gaston de Croix, Duke of Vocette.” Her heart ached as she waited for the bishop to speak, to mete out the condemnation she’d earned.
His fingers rubbed the cross hanging from his neck as sad understanding shadowed his gaze. “Colyne cares for you more than he realizes.” He watched her closely. “And what of you?”
A traitorous tear slid down her cheek. “I am in love with him, but it excuses me of naught.”
“You have nae told Colyne of your feelings?”
“Non.It would only complicate an already dire situation.”
Strain tightened the bishop’s face. “After what has passed between the two of you, Colyne has the right to know your identity.”
“Under normal circumstances, I would agree. But with my father being the king of France, nothing about this situation is normal. And telling Colyne will change naught. It is safest for him if I disappear.”
“Is it? I am nae so sure.” He motioned toward the hidden chamber. “Try to rest. I will ponder the situation. A night’s sleep may offer a solution you have nae considered.”
With her throat clogged with emotion, Marie nodded but found little enthusiasm at his words. Turning away, she reentered the chamber, frustrated by the delay. Regardless of the fact that the bishop had recognized her, naught had changed. As planned, she would wait a few moments and then slip out.
Colyne reached the docks as the first wisps of dawn cut through the layer of clouds. The scent of the sea hung in the air, thick with the promise of rain. He gave a rueful smile. He’d outmaneuvered the English duke’s men again.
Beneath the wavering torchlight, Logan’s sailors hustled to load crates aboard the Kincaid. Several paces away, another man staggered up the plank, as if having celebrated too much throughout the night.
From the shadows, Colyne studied the ongoing activity, taking in every nuance but hunting for . . . there. In the far corner, near a stack of crates, several English knights lurked, and three more stood guard near the ship.
He’d anticipated the English duke having instructed his men to keep watch over the port, but he’d hoped he was wrong. Their presence complicated everything.
