by Lynsay Sands
Sister Blanche stared at him wide-eyed. She still wore Lady Helen's clothes, which explained the confusion.
"Ahem." The bishop cleared his throat, drawing her attention to the fact that Lord Rolfe was not alone. "We were just searching for Sister Blanche. You would not know where we might find her?"
Sister Blanche glanced quickly over the array of men before her. The bishop, Lord Rolfe, Lord Blake, the large one she had heard them call Little George, and at least a dozen other men stood there, all waiting expectantly. Having spent most of her life in a nunnery, Blanche was not used to being the center of attention of so many men. Swallowing nervously and feeling herself flush, she shook her head helplessly and took another nervous step backward.
Lord Rolfe's gaze narrowed slightly. "Where were you coming from?"
The alarm on her face was telling. Frowning, Rolfe glanced past her, his gaze going first to the gate, then to the stable entry not far away. Without a word, he moved past her toward the stables.
Biting her lip, Sister Blanche watched with some distress as he entered the stables.
Blake watched curiously too, then glanced toward the bishop as he spoke.
"It really is necessary we find Sister Blanche. After speaking with Lady Elizabeth and the others, it has been decided it might be best if Lady Elizabeth resigns her position. She is preparing to leave. I would like Sister Blanche to take her place until another abbess can be found. If another is needed. The rest of the nuns seem to think this Sister Blanche would fill the position quite satisfactorily."
Blanche forgot about Lord Rolfe, her mind filled with wonder. "Truly?" she asked breathlessly.
"Aye." The bishop frowned slightly and glanced briefly around the garden. "I should like to tell her of my decision and speak with her myself."
"Oh, of course, I--" Her words were cut off by a sudden shout from behind her. Recalling Lord Rolfe's foray into the stable, she whirled to peer at the man as he hurried toward them.
"I think they have fled," he announced grimly, coming to a halt beside Sister Blanche and facing the other men.
"Who?" the bishop asked with dismay.
"Lady Seonaid and Aeldra. There are at least two horses missing from the stables. Mayhap three."
Every gaze turned on Sister Blanche, and she felt the position as abbess slipping from her grasp. For a moment she struggled with herself, ambition and what was right battling within her. Then she straightened her shoulders, faced them grimly, and did as her conscience bade; she lied to save the women who had sought shelter and been betrayed. "They were my horses. I sold them to one of the lords from a neighboring estate. He just left after collecting them."
"You are a poor liar, Lady Helen," Lord Rolfe told her gently. "But the fact that you bothered to lie tells as much as the truth would have." His gaze turned to Blake and he smiled widely. "It appears we shall not be forced to try to talk your errant betrothed into leaving the abbey. She has flown the cavie again."
Far from looking pleased, Lord Blake grimaced at the news and muttered under his breath as he moved toward the gate. Little George and the rest of the men followed.
Sister Blanche was desperately searching her mind for some way to detain them when the bishop suddenly paused at the gate and turned back, his expression distressed. "Pray, find Sister Blanche and explain what I told you, Lady Helen. If she can see her way clear to running the abbey until an alternative arrangement is decided, it would be appreciated. I shall return as soon as I am able to assure all is well."
The man whirled and followed the others as his words sank slowly into her stunned mind. Only the click as the gate closed, reminded her that the men were leaving to seek the three women. Giving a little gasp of dismay, Blanche rushed forward, running to the gate and tugging it open. It was too late. The men had mounted their horses and were already riding off. The only thing that kept her from calling after them was the direction they had taken. The men were headed the wrong way. Sister Blanche's anxiety immediately gave way to a slow, relieved smile, and she slipped back inside, then pushed the gate closed.
"Thank you, God," she murmured as she slid the bar back into place. "You are truly most wondrous and merciful."
"Where are we heading?" Helen had been wanting to ask the question for the past several hours but had convinced herself Lady Seonaid and her cousin knew what they were doing. But at last she could not ignore her instincts any longer. All the signs seemed to indicate they were heading east, rather than south toward her home. Seonaid's answer made her heart sink in dismay.
"Fer the moment, east."
"East? But my home is in England. In the south."
"Aye, but that's also where Cameron'll expect ye to head," Seonaid reasoned calmly.
"But what is in the east?" she asked at last.
"Dundee."
Helen raised her brows. "And what is at Dundee?"
"Nothin'."
"Nothing?" She gaped at her. "Well, if there is nothing there, why--?"
Sighing, Seonaid drew her horse to a halt and turned to peer at the woman. "We're bein' pursued by two groups of men, are we no?"
"Well, as to that, who can say?" Helen murmured. "Cameron may or may not be on our trail, and as for Lord Blake, he may still be at the abbey."
" 'Tis doubtful Sherwell is still at the abbey. Even if Sister Blanche manages to keep our absence secret, a mere glance into the stables will tell him that we've fled."
When Helen's eyes widened in realization, Seonaid continued. "As fer Cameron, he may not be on our trail yet, but he's certainly seekin' ye. Now," she began with the attitude of someone teaching a lesson, "should Cameron trail ye to the abbey an' find ye've fled, he'll expect ye to flee south, straight fer England, and no doubt by the most direct route, like a fox seekin' its hole. Blake, if he kens yer quandary from Sister Blanche and that we intend to see ye home, will expect us to take the same route. If he doesna find out about ye, he'll most like expect us to head west, toward me father's castle, or possibly north, where I've some relatives who might be of assistance, and where there's another abbey, one without Lady Elizabeth. Neither of them have any reason to think we might go east, hence, we'll go east toward the coast, then follow the coast southward to England."
Lady Helen smiled suddenly. "That is very clever."
Seonaid smiled slightly at the praise, then turned to urge her horse into a trot again.
"Anything?"
Little George peered up from the area he was surveying to meet Blake's gaze and shake his head.
"Damn." Blake sank back on his saddle with a frown. "I do not understand it. We have ridden hard for several miles. We should have overtaken them, or at least have seen some sign of them by now."
"Mayhap they did not head this way," Rolfe suggested with a frown.
"Where else would they go?" Blake muttered.
"There is another abbey farther north," the bishop suggested when everyone else remained silent.
When Blake glanced at him hopefully, Rolfe frowned. "You do not think she left one abbey for another?"
" 'Tis more likely than that she returned home."
"She's gone east!"
They all whirled around at that shout to find the speaker was a mounted Scot on the trail behind them. Alarmed by not having heard his approach, the men-at-arms whirled furiously, drawing swords as they faced the man. A shout from Lord Rolfe made them still where they sat, but every man retained his grasp on his sword as Rolfe urged his own mount through theirs to face the sandy-haired Scot.
The man had not reacted to the threat of all those swords being drawn, but sat his horse with a slightly amused expression on his face, calmly meeting Rolfe's gaze as he stopped his mount several feet away.
"Who the deuce are you?"
"Gavin. The Dunbar sent me to follow ye to be sure Sherwell didna get himsel' killed 'ere catchin' up with Seonaid." He waited just long enough for the insult behind the words to sink in, then grinned widely and announced, "Yer goin' the wrong way. T
he lass an' the other two headed east on leavin' the abbey."
Rolfe sensed rather than heard Blake's shifting impatiently in his saddle and could sympathize. He himself was a bit annoyed at the insult but managed to keep the irritation from his expression as he asked, "The other two?"
The Scot nodded. "Aeldra an' a nun were with her. They headed east. I started to follow, but recalled 'twas Sherwell I was to be tendin' to an' turned back to the abbey to be sure ye followed. Ye must have left 'ere I returned, fer yer horses were gone when I arrived back. I asked at the abbey an' was told ye'd gone south. I headed in that direction, but it took little time to realize ye hadna gone that way, then I backtracked an' checked the road. I soon saw ye'd headed back for Dunbar. So I hurried after ye. Yer headin' the wrong way."
"Who told you we had headed south?" Blake asked, urging his mount up next to Rolfe's.
The Scot shrugged. "A lady. I doona ken who she was, but she werena dressed like a nun."
"Lady Helen. She most likely lied to protect the women," Rolfe murmured, then sighed and considered the man's words. "Why would Lady Seonaid head east?"
The Scot shrugged. "Most like she headed the way ye'd least think she'd go. She's a smart lass."
The men glanced at each other.
"Do you believe him?" Blake asked.
Rolfe shrugged. "I do not suppose there is any reason for him to lie."
"Nay."
" 'Sides, we had already decided she did not head this way."
"Aye."
"I suppose we shall have to head east and find out."
"Aye." Blake sighed, and wondered why he did not simply turn and ride for home. Surely that was within his rights? A groom was not generally expected to chase his betrothed all over the country just to marry her. On the other hand, he did not wish to explain his thinking to the king. He would head east. He urged his horse to follow Lord Rolfe and the bishop as they rode toward the waiting Scot.
"Is it Cameron?"
Seonaid glanced sharply at Aeldra when she asked the question, then supposed she should not have been surprised that her cousin had also realized they were being followed. Seonaid herself had sensed they had company even as they had ridden out of the abbey. She'd thought then that it must be Cameron, and had hoped that after following them for a while, the fact that they were headed east rather than south--not to mention Helen's disguise--would fool him and make him turn back to wait outside the abbey. He had not turned, though, but had continued to follow them for the entire day and now into the night.
"I doona ken," she admitted on a sigh. "If 'tis, then he wasna fooled by Helen's dress."
Aeldra grunted her agreement as Helen wearily urged her horse up between them.
"Will we stop for the night soon?" the Englishwoman asked hopefully. "I am fair sore from being on horseback."
Seonaid remained silent for a moment, considering their options. They could not continue to ride the horses indefinitely; the beasts were already showing signs of tiring and she disliked riding them too hard. On the other hand, if 'twas Cameron following, he would make himself known once they stopped. At least he would not catch them unawares. In fact, she and Aeldra just might take him by surprise. Doubtless he would not expect much of a fight from three lone women.
"Aye. There's a clearin' jest ahead. We'll stop there," she decided aloud, then glanced toward Aeldra. "Be ready."
Ignoring Helen's confused expression, the two women nodded at each other solemnly.
" 'Tis lovely," Helen murmured as they slid from their horses moments later and peered around the small clearing.
"Magnificent," Seonaid agreed, her gaze running over the area with satisfaction. One side was taken up with a small rock cliff, another by the river running along the clearing. That left only two sides for attackers to approach from. It would be easier to defend, especially if they blocked off one other side with the horses. She did not like doing so, since it placed the animals at risk of being injured. But she had no idea how large a party Cameron had with him, or just how much danger they were in.
"We'll settle here for the night," she announced, unhooking the satchel of food from her horse's back and handing it to Helen. Nodding, the other woman moved at once toward the spot she indicated and began digging through the contents of the bag. Seonaid and Aeldra saw to the horses, leaving their saddles on in case they had need of a speedy escape, and settled them where they made a third barrier against their would-be attackers. The women washed their hands in the river and sat to eat, their eyes and ears alert to any sound or sight that might warn them of an oncoming attack.
Once they had finished eating, they all stretched out to rest. Or at least Helen did. Seonaid and Aeldra insisted she sleep with her back snug against the cliff, then lay down before her, situating themselves between the woman and the world at large. But they had no intention of sleeping. They were waiting for the attack they were sure would come, now that they appeared at rest and vulnerable.
Chapter Five
"Wake up, sleepy heads."
Seonaid came awake with a start at Helen's call, her body and mind immediately alert. Sitting up, she glanced sharply around and spotted the Englishwoman approaching from the river. Seonaid gaped. Morning had dawned, there had been no attack, and she'd fallen asleep. Worse yet, so had Aeldra, she saw with dismay, as the other woman sat up beside her and frowned around the clearing.
"How the devil did ye slip by us?"
Helen's brows rose at the question. "I stepped over you. You were sleeping so soundly, I did not wish to wake you."
"Ye stepped o'er us?" Seonaid asked with disbelief, then glanced toward Aeldra. "She stepped o'er us."
"A fat lot of good we would have been had we been attacked," Aeldra muttered, getting to her feet. "Why didn't they attack?"
"Who?" Helen asked wide-eyed as she reached them.
"I'd be thinkin' she means us."
All three women whirled toward the deep baritone voice. Seonaid and Aeldra both grabbed for their swords, but they sagged and sighed when they saw who it was.
"Gavin!" Seonaid snapped as she set her sword back down. "What're ye doin' here?"
"Makin' sure the Sassenach doesna get hissel' killed."
Her eyes narrowed. "Is he with ye?"
For answer, Lord Blake stepped out of the trees and into view. Seonaid shook her head with disgust. "Ye could have let yer presence be known last night. Then we wouldna have had to stay awake the night through thinkin' we were about to be attacked."
"It looked to me as if ye slept jest fine," Gavin commented with amusement. "An' so ye should have; ye were watched ower throughout the night."
"Not the whole night," Lord Rolfe corrected, joining the other two men. "We only arrived a couple of hours ago. We stuck to the woods to avoid disturbing your rest."
Seonaid frowned, her gaze moving to Aeldra. The other woman appeared just as worried. They were both convinced someone had trailed them all day. They had felt that presence as they had settled down here for the night. Yet Lord Rolfe claimed the men had arrived only hours earlier.
"Why are you looking so worried?" Blake's question drew Seonaid's gaze back to her betrothed. He did not look overly pleased to have found her. Truth to tell, he looked about as cranky as she felt on the little sleep she'd had. Not that she'd expected anything else, but still it rubbed her pride the wrong way.
Gavin saved her from having to comment by giving a harsh laugh. " 'Cause she kens we're no' the only beasties in these woods."
Before either Englishman could ask what he meant, the Scot pursed his lips and released a piercing whistle. Seconds later the bushes on either side of the men rustled as two Scots slid out into the open. Both of them were from Dunbar. Gavin nodded, then explained, "I left them to trail Seonaid an' Aeldra while I returned to fetch ye."
Seonaid glared at her father's soldier as he made the admission, knowing now who to blame for her betrothed finding her. Turning, she fixed another glare on the Englishman. "What
do ye want?"
"What do you think?" he snapped back.
"I think ye want to go home an' forget ye ever heard me name," she admitted. "An' since that's what I'm wantin' as well, why don't ye do it?"
Blake blinked at her surly words in confusion. "What?"
"Ye heard me. I don't want to marry you an' you don't want to marry me, so go home an' leave me be."
Blake gaped at her in astonishment. Her mettle amazed him. The women he knew, and he knew a lot of them, did not often speak so bluntly. They would have mewed and sighed and hinted, but would never have said something so unpleasant straight out. He couldn't believe she'd done it. And had he heard her correctly? Many women had begged Blake to marry them, and still others had threatened to kill themselves for love of him. He supposed in his mind he'd imagined the chit--if he'd ever thought of her at all--pining away the years, wondering when he would come to claim her and praying nightly to God that he should. This was not wholly because of the way women threw themselves at him; it was also because a life of spinsterhood could be so unpleasant. Yet here she claimed to desire nothing more than to be left to that sad state. It must be an act, he decided, and actually smiled at the realization. Women often played games to attract his attention, and--Amazon or not--Seonaid Dunbar was still a woman. Relaxing as he regained some of his confidence, Blake tossed her a charming smile, "Careful, my lady; one would almost think you were not pleased to see me."
"One would think correctly."
Blake's gaze narrowed. "If you expect me to believe you have not been pining away these last ten years--"
"Pinin'?" Seonaid interrupted with a harsh laugh. "Do I look the sort to pine? No, indeed, m'laird, I've been quite enjoyin' my freedom ... in many an' diverse ways."
Blake's eyes widened, then his face flushed angrily at the suggestion behind her words. "You--"
"Enough," Lord Rolfe interrupted sharply. "We have wasted enough time. Let us head back to Dunbar and see the deed done."
"Go ahead," Seonaid muttered, turning toward the horses. "Aeldra an' I'll meet ye there after we go to England."
"England!" Rolfe and Blake echoed the word as one.
"Aye, England," Seonaid said firmly. "We promised." She gestured toward Lady Helen, taking in the nun's habit with new eyes. "We promised the sister we'd see her home to England. She wishes to visit her family. We promised we'd see her safely there." She turned to peer at them sweetly. "Ye'd not wish us to break our word to a woman of God, would ye?"