Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,3

walked at a gentle pace going in a northerly direction.

Lucille frowned. “This is the wrong way.”

“Nay, it is not.”

“Yes, it is. I must go south.”

“South?”

“Aye, south.”

“Forgivin’ yer pardon, lass, but my home resides in the nor—“

“But you promised assistance! I’m but a helpless female and I must travel south. It is of the utmost importance.”

Bryce stopped, scratched his head, and pondered. Lucille watched his fleeting emotions in the extraordinary blue of his eyes. Would he help her?

****

Bare-chested and not a day’s walk from home, he was asked by a strange French lass to deviate from his course, away from what he had longed for all this time. The things Bryce had sought most in the last year were being taken away from him in the blink of an eye. What was he to do?

True, Bryce had promised assistance. But that had been before he’d known lending a hand would require him to give up his dream. The lass resting upon his horse was in need. No lady should be traipsing about without escort. Why had the burden fallen upon him? And what was she doing out alone in the first place? Dare he ask?

There were too many questions and not enough answers. With a sigh, Bryce gathered the reins and led the horse in a southerly direction. Night would be upon them soon. He hoped the young lady had a plan.

Chapter Four

France 1557

“Has there been any word?”

“Non.”

“The event has been postponed for too long already. If it doesn’t occur soon, people will wonder. They will lose hope. They will lose faith.”

“Aye, I know. But we need more time.”

“You have a month.”

“Thirty days is hardly enough time for the agent to travel so far. We need more time.”

“A month; I can give no more.”

With a respectful bow, the official left. Sir Jean Broussard paced the Admiral’s study. Gaspard de Coligny, respected military leader, was in grave danger. Or at least Jean believed this to be true. As a fellow friend and countryman, Jean feared for Gaspard’s life. His secret couldn’t be maintained forever. If the wrong people became aware then who knew what would happen. With King Henry II upon the French throne, their kind were in constant fear. Thus when Gustav entered, Jean’s concerns had not abated.

“Any news?” asked Jean.

“Non, sir,” replied Gustav.

“We have until the next full moon.”

“But if there is dan—“

“I know. They’ve been warned. They are willing to accept the necessary risks.”

“But Gaspard’s death could destroy all our plans.”

“Then we will have to pray for his ultimate safety.”

Chapter Five

Scotland 1557

Bryce walked alongside the horse. The man was huge and attractive to gaze upon. In fact, Lucille had a hard time taking her eyes away from his imposing frame. Hour after hour dragged by. The sun set over the distant mountains, leaving barely enough light with which to travel. How man and horse didn’t stumble and break their legs in the darkness, Lucy would never know.

When it seemed they would travel on until morning, Bryce said, “We will stop here.”

Beast and man stopped. Lucy was grasped upon the waist, lifted from the saddle, and placed on the ground without a backward glance. She watched as Bryce gathered scraps of wood and started a fire. The flames grew and Lucy moved closer and sat down.

Bryce untied the pack from the horse, cared for the beast, sat cross-legged in front of the fire, and handed her a hard piece of dried meat. She stuck it in her mouth and scrunched up her face at the overabundance of salt.

While she ate, he pulled a tunic from the pack and drew it over his bare form.

“You don’t talk much.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t you even want to know my name? Perhaps where we are going? Or why I’m out in the woods alone?”

Again, he shrugged.

The man’s ability to shrug off every word was the height of annoyance. “Mister Cameron, not to be rude, but I cannot travel all the way to England with someone who never opens his mouth.”

Those words garnered his attention. His mouth gaped open, and the salted meat fell to the ground. “England?”

“But of course. Why else would I need to travel south?”

“But I can’t take ye to England.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because I’m on my way home. Crissy, me sheep, they are waitin’.”

“I’m sorry but you did agree to help me. And I need an escort.”

“But to England?”

“Yes.”

The man seemed to ponder her words. His twiddled his thumbs and scuffed his boot against the ground but didn’t speak. To keep from further