A Cruel Courtship by Candace Robb Read Free Book Online

called.’ Andrew immediately regretted how his words snapped with irritation. More softly he added, ‘I cannot remember when I did not know that God called me to serve Him in the Kirk.’
    Obert’s smile seemed guileless. ‘It is good when a priest has a sincere vocation.’ He adjusted his sleeve, a fussy gesture. ‘Abbot Adam sent you here as someone Master Thomas could trust in this circumstance – the English using this as their camp and spital. Do you favour King Edward’s claim over John Balliol’s?’
    ‘I strive to be indifferent.’
    ‘You say that as if it is virtuous.’
    ‘You would counsel me to represent myself as devoted to King Edward?’
    ‘I would counsel you to tell the truth.’ Obert’s gaze held Andrew with such intensity he felt like wood.
    Yet who was Obert to speak to him in such wise? ‘Abbot Adam and Master Thomas have chosen me to assist you. Do you question their choice?’ Andrew spoke quietly.
    Obert sat back with a play of horror. ‘I see I have touched a wound. Or at least a tender scar. But I meant my comment as advice.’ He rose, revealing a crooked back, and reached for a stick to assist his walk. ‘It is time for introductions in the hall.’
    Andrew reached out to halt the old priest. ‘Why do you distrust me?’
    Father Obert did not raise his head at once. He seemed to consider his reply. Then his sharp eyes met Andrew’s. ‘You are Abbot Adam’s secretary, the one he trusted to gather the treasures of this country from the abbeys and kirks. Tell me I am being unjust and I shall believe you.’
    Andrew had done so, turning his head when the soldiers accompanying him beat those courageous enough to defy them in the name of their king, John Balliol. His cowardice in that time would haunt him to the grave. The old man had thrust right into Andrew’s deepest wound, baring his terrible shame. He could not trust his voice.
    Obert rested both hands on his stick and straightened a little. ‘What is this? Remorse?’ His mouth was pinched, from irritation or pain, Andrew could not guess.
    ‘Might we talk?’ Andrew managed, though he did not know what he would say.
    Obert inclined his head. ‘Later. There will be time to speak of many things.’
    ‘Now, I pray you,’ Andrew said, inexplicably desperate to explain himself, wanting Father Obert to believe in his decency.
    Obert shook his head. ‘Master Thomas awaits us.’
    The elderly priest led the way to the master’s hall. Master Thomas and several of the men Andrew had noted in the hall the previous day rose to greet them as they entered the room. They rose not for Andrew, but for Father Obert. All greeted him with respect. Then Master Thomas introduced Andrew.
    Sensing this to be a significant gathering, Andrew worked to set aside his irritation with Obert so that he might concentrate on memorisingeach name. Sir Francis seemed uncomfortable in his finery, as would be St Francis of Assisi. Sir Marmaduke – the name was Irish, servant of Madoc – though the man’s accent was like Father Obert’s, that of Yorkshire. But he also dressed more simply than the others – servant, Marmaduke. And thirdly Sir Simon Montagu – this name was familiar.
    ‘Perth, did you say?’ Sir Simon studied Andrew closely as if he, in turn, thought he should remember him.
    As Andrew’s memory found the connection, he tried to cover any sign of recognition with a simple, ‘A fine trading port, Sir Simon. I’ve always thought it deserved a cathedral – and an archbishop.’
    The English made polite but amused noises. Scotsmen were always complaining of their lack of an archbishop.
    Andrew tried not to stare at the thick-necked, broadly built man who had been the lover of Ada de la Haye. This was the man whose wealth had bought Margaret’s friend a house in Perth as well as some property in the west. Her family had arranged for her to meet him when he was an influential emissary between King Edward and the much mourned King