A Cruel Courtship by Candace Robb Read Free Book Online Page B

Andrew?’
    He thought he’d found the courage, but now Andrew felt emotion welling up within to challenge his ability to speak intelligibly. ‘You were right about my blind obedience to Abbot Adam in his service to King Edward. What you do not know is how I have since cursed myself–’ As tears rose,Andrew looked away and breathed deeply. Obert did not comment. When Andrew could again breathe evenly, he continued. ‘I have since disobeyed the abbot, defied him in a matter concerning my family, and he no longer trusts me. That is why he sent me here. He knows that a Scotsman who has heard the confessions of English troops will never again be welcome among his people, nor will he be trusted to leave the English camp. This is my penance and my condemnation.’
    Obert pursed his mouth and frowned, his gaze fixed on the air beyond Andrew. ‘I wondered about his wisdom in sending someone from Perth. I know there are canons born in my shire and others south of the border residing at Holyrood.’ The old priest sighed, shook his head slowly, and then gestured towards the food. ‘Satisfy yourself, my friend. I am glad to know your heart.’
    ‘What of you, Father Obert? Forgive my saying this, but I was surprised that the English commanders would bring such a venerable priest on campaign.’
    Obert’s face lit up as he laughed in surprise. ‘Oh, bless you, but you are right, no commander would trust I’d survive such a journey. I have served here at Soutra for many years. First the Scots, now the English.’
    This made no sense to Andrew. ‘You served my countrymen and yet the English trust and respect you. How can this be?’
    Bowing his head, Obert muttered something to himself.
    Andrew thought it a prayer. He helped himself to more of the food, some ale, and was beginning to think the old man had no intention of responding when Obert lifted his head.
    ‘ They know that I know I’m too old to do anything rash.’ Obert smiled with his mouth, but not his eyes.
    They had bonded that evening, and were now like father and son; Andrew enjoyed working with Obert. He had also been surprised by Master Thomas’s character. Abbot Adam had lately written to warn Thomas of the reason he’d sent Andrew to Soutra, advising him to keep a close watch on him. Andrew had wondered at Thomas’s reading the letter to him, until he heard the anger in the Master’s voice.
    ‘He insults me with this letter,’ Thomas growled, tossing it away from him. Then he’d looked at Andrew long and hard. ‘So you lied to me about your impartiality, eh?’ He wagged his head, his chins dancing, and then he shrugged. ‘To save your hide. I would have done the same. I have no complaints about you, Father Andrew. I believe you to be an honourable man of God. Abbot Adam is perhaps not the man of God he should be.’
    So Andrew grew comfortable at the spital. But he did not forget his conviction that God’s purpose in bringing him to Soutra was so that he might provideinformation to William Wallace, and to do that he must escape. This it was that kept him pacing at night.
    Escape. He had thought himself close to an attempt at escape, hesitating only because a Welsh archer he’d befriended had disappeared the previous week and every room and all the grounds were being searched. This morning Obert said that it was believed the Welshman had escaped out the infirmary drain, or sewer.
    ‘God help David. Who could survive such a journey through hell?’ Obert had said with an unreadable expression.
    Andrew could not spit out the curse that came to his tongue on hearing of David’s escape route. Andrew had not told Father Obert he was plotting to escape and get word to William Wallace of all he’d learned at Soutra. He could not be certain how Obert would react to the plan. But the news was maddening. Andrew had intended to use the infirmary drain, certain that no other human would be so desperate, that only a man who had forfeited his soul would