A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four

by Barclay, Celeste

  “But they’re monks,” was all that Cairstine could think to say.

  “Aye, and beneath their robes, they’re men. Just like beneath yours, you’ll still be a woman.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think I’ll try to lure them to me? That I’ll have urges I can’t control? That it would be my fault?” Cairstine pushed away from Eoin, opening the door and trying to slam it shut before he could follow her. His larger frame made it impossible once he put a fraction of his weight against the door. He eased the door shut behind him.

  “Cairstine, tell me what’s going on. Tell me the truth. Someone hurt you. I already figured that out, but your reaction to me talking aboot the monks is more than disbelief. It’s fear. And your assumption that I’d blame you makes me think you’d blame yourself. What happened?” Eoin tried to remain patient, but his frustration stemmed from his own fear as much as her reticence.

  “It was a long time ago, and I refuse to discuss it. Thank you for your warning and advice. I will take it to heart. Now please leave. I’d like to make myself more presentable.” Cairstine crossed her arms but refused to look at Eoin, choosing to look at the wall to her right. Eoin swept his hand over his face and shook his head but opened the door.

  “I’ll be just outside. I’ll have our horses saddled while you change.” Eoin disappeared into the passageway, and Cairstine hurried to the satchel Eoin had carried abovestairs. Five minutes later, she was as presentable as she could make herself without a proper bath. Eoin stood with his back to the door, blocking anyone’s way in should anyone dare approach. She caught sight of the scowl that turned his handsome face menacing, but it relaxed when her hand pressed his shoulder, as if she could nudge him out of her way.

  “I’m ready,” Cairstine mumbled. She brushed her hands down the front of her plain kirtle. It was one she used to travel in since its lack of finery and adornment helped disguise her noble birth. Now it would serve as her last link to the secular world, but she hoped it gave the impression that she wasn’t as vain as others assumed.

  “You look very bonnie, Cairrie,” Eoin smiled. The plain gown suited her, as it allowed her innate attractiveness to shine without the distraction of frippery and embellishments. Eoin kept to himself that he feared it made her even more enticing than her most extravagant courtly attire.

  “Thank you.” Neither said anything more until they rode through the priory gate and introduced themselves to the prioress.

  Chapter Ten

  Eoin watched the prioress and abbot as they spoke to Cairstine, and he suspected they were shrewdly estimating Cairstine’s dowry. The prioress’s manner showed a capacity for kindness, but the abbot’s open appreciation of Cairstine’s looks set Eoin’s nerves on edge. He ground his teeth as the man glanced at Cairstine’s bosom for at least the tenth time in as many minutes.

  “You may make your way to the hospitium, if you must stay the night, or you may collect your horse from the stable and be on your way.” The abbot turned his nose up at Eoin before turning his back. Eoin hadn’t planned to spend the night, but the abbot’s suggestion tempted Eoin. The prioress accepted the queen’s terms that Cairstine was to visit for a few days before deciding, and Eoin’s intuition warned that he should stay. He’d seen how uncomfortable the abbot made her, and he wanted to be waiting if, or preferably when, Cairstine decided Dundee Priory was not the right place.

  “I shall accept your offer of hospitality, Father Abbot.” Eoin bowed as Cairstine edged closer to Eoin and away from the monk. “I will take a chamber and remain until Lady Cairstine has made her decision.”

  “There is no need for that, lad.” The abbot smiled, but it appeared more like a sneer as he reached out an arm, as if he would guide Eoin away from Cairstine. Eoin didn’t budge, instead crossing his arms and lifting his chin. The challenge was obvious, and the situation grew tense.

  “Lady Cairstine, let us retire to my solar in the Charter House,” the prioress offered. “We can further discuss your visit and what becoming a nun entails.” Despite the priory being a smaller ecclesiastical house than an abbey, the Franciscan nun had introduced herself as Mother Abbess.

  “Yes, Mother Abbess,” Cairstine demurred, but she glanced at Eoin before stepping beside the nun. The monk stepped forward to follow them, but Mother Abbess paused as if she remembered something.

  “Father Abbot, Brother Simon and Brother Peter mentioned they needed your advice on a discrepancy in the mill ledger. I believe they are taking inventory in the buttery at the moment.”

  “That can wait until after we speak with Cairstine. Alone.” Father Abbot glared at Eoin, whose jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. The rotund monk attempted to appear intimidating in return, but failed. Eoin didn’t care for how the man addressed Cairstine, and he wasn’t about to let the slight go unmentioned.

  “Father Abbot, Lady Cairstine is not a member of this cloister, so you would do well to remember who you address.”

  “I’m certain Brothers Simon and Peter noted your help was imperative, and Evensong will be upon us if you don’t meet with them now. I don’t believe the matter can wait until tomorrow,” Mother Abbess intervened. The monk squinted at Eoin, but nodded. He spun about, his robes swirling at his ankles before stalking away. “Eoin, I suppose you won’t be content to take Father Abbot’s suggestion and make your way to the hospitium. You may as well follow us.”

  Eoin nodded but remained silent. Cairstine cast a long look at him before allowing the nun to lead them to the Charter House. The building was an extension of the church, and nuns and monks moved freely as they went about their duties, many chanting to themselves, their lips moving but no sound coming forth. The Mother Abbess reached within her habit and pulled out a large ring of keys, much like a castle’s chatelaine would carry. She unlocked a door and led Cairstine and Eoin through, taking them into an antechamber with three stools placed against the left wall.

  “You may wait here,” Mother Abbess spoke over her shoulder to Eoin, who took a seat as directed. The nun unlocked a second door, which she held open for Cairstine to pass through. She cocked an eyebrow at Eoin and left the door slightly ajar. There was barely enough space between the door and the wooden frame for light to pass through, but the women’s voices carried. “Lady Cairstine, the queen instructed you to visit before making your choice. That isn’t customary. It leads me to think the queen is unconvinced that you have a calling to become a nun. She is giving you the opportunity to change your mind. Why might that be?”

  Cairstine clasped her hands before her, standing while the prioress took a seat behind her desk. Cairstine wanted to shift her weight from one foot to another but forced herself to remain still. She’d considered what she would have to divulge before she left Stirling, but now that the moment was upon her, she feared she would cast up her accounts rather than speak. She swallowed the bile that threatened to choke her before taking a deep breath.

  “Mother Abbess, I am two-and-twenty years old and have served the queen as a lady-in-waiting for the past two years. During that time, I haven’t acted in a way becoming a nun. I have been mean-spirited, even cruel with my words. I have cultivated a reputation for vanity and self-centeredness. I admit that I have sinned by not loving my neighbor as myself, but I did all of this with a purpose. I am not suitable to be any mon’s wife.”

  Eoin heard Cairstine’s voice even though it was muffled. It tempted him to move closer to the door; the abbess leaving it open as an invitation to listen. But pressing his ear to the crack seemed too great an invasion of Cairstine’s privacy, so he steeled himself against the temptation and remained seated on the stool. So far, Cairstine had said nothing Eoin didn’t already know.

  “When I was six-and-ten,” Cairstine continued. “My clan hosted the annual Highland Gathering. I’d been at the market with my mother and sister, but the sun was too much for me, and I felt ill. They had set up the market outside the bailey in an open field. I wanted to avoid the crowd, and from the booth whe
re my mother, my sister, and I stood, it seemed like walking along the trees and around the market would be faster than trying to cut through the crowd. I was nearly to the edge of the vendors when someone wrapped their hand around my mouth and their arm around my waist and arms, pinning them to my side. I thrashed and tried to headbutt whoever grabbed me, but I couldn’t. I understood what was happening, but before I could do aught, I was being dragged into the woods where three other men near my age waited.”

  Eoin could hear the tremble in Cairstine’s voice, and he wanted nothing more than to march into the abbess’s solar and pull Cairstine into his arms, carrying her away from the priory and the need to recite her story. But once more, he remained seated, his hands grasping the sides of the stool as if he could glue himself to it.

  “The one that grabbed me threw me to the ground. To do so, he let go of his hand around my mouth. I screamed as loud as I could. Two of the men grabbed my arms and held them to the ground while the other mon who’d been waiting tossed up by skirts until I was bare from the waist down. Then he was there—the one who pulled me into the trees—I could feel him there.” Cairstine shuddered as she recalled the most terrifying moments of her life. She’d once seen a wolf while hunting with Fingal, but even that hadn’t frightened her as much as that day in the woods.

  “Go on my child,” Mother Abbess’s gentle voice prompted Cairstine, but Cairstine shook her head. “Have you told no one?”

  “No, I couldn’t. I was so ashamed, and I feared anyone I told would blame me. I chose to walk alone when I should have had a guard with me. My parents warned me aboot being so foolish, and I got what I deserved.”

  Eoin couldn’t remain seated. He stepped to the door and spied the prioress looking at him. The shake of her head was nearly imperceptible, but Eoin saw it. He scowled and shook his head in response. He couldn’t allow Cairstine to continue believing she deserved the assault. No woman ever deserved that, and Eoin was determined to ensure Cairstine understood that. But Cairstine picked up her story, and Eoin waited. He knew if he entered the solar, Cairstine would never finish. He needed to know, and he sensed Cairstine needed to clear her heart of the secret she’d kept for six years.

  “It hurt so badly, but one moment the mon was there, the next Alexander Sinclair was beating him senseless, and Magnus was pulling my skirts down, covering me. Bram, my guard who accompanied me today, heard my scream as he looked for me. He pulled me away while Alexander and Magnus fought the four men. I never saw their faces or their plaids. They ran off only minutes after the fight began. The Sinclairs and Bram swore they would never tell a soul after I begged them to keep my secret. Bram escorted me back to the keep, where I combed out my hair and changed gowns.” Cairstine wiped tears from her face she hadn’t realized she cried. Eoin could see she’d wrapped her arms around her middle, as if she could protect herself and ward away the memories. “I’m no longer a maiden, Mother Abbess. That is why I can’t marry.”

  The prioress seemed to weigh her words carefully before speaking. “Your father is a very devout mon, is he not?” She waited for Cairstine to nod. “Do you fear he will cast you out? Label you a Jezebel?”

  Cairstine nodded again. “I fear it would be worse than being cast out. He would never believe I didn’t bring this upon myself. He would make an example of me before my clan. I—I—stones—” Cairstine sobbed, and Eoin could no longer bear waiting outside. He pushed the door to the solar open and pulled Cairstine into his arms. She sagged against him as Eoin met the prioress’s eyes over Cairstine’s head. His eyes dared the nun to speak against Cairstine, but once more the older woman shook her head. Eoin ran his hand over Cairstine’s hair and back as he cooed softly.

  “Shh, leannan. They aren’t here, and they can never hurt you again.” He knew his words were little consolation, and Cairstine seemed to take greater comfort in his solid body holding her up. Mother Abbess walked around her desk and patted Eoin on the shoulder before slipping out of the chamber, leaving the door wider open but not so wide that anyone could easily see in. “Shh, Cairrie. I’ll hold you for as long as you need.”

  “Forever,” Cairstine breathed, her sobs wracked her slight frame. Eoin understood she didn’t mean it, but a moment of weakness flashed through his mind, and holding Cairstine forever felt more than just appealing. It felt right.

  They stood together until Cairstine had no tears left to cry and the trembling eased to a periodic hiccup. Eoin smoothed the hair back from her face as she wiped away the last of her tears. She attempted a tremulous smile, but it looked more painful than happy.

  “Cairrie, you’re wrong aboot one very crucial thing. It was never, ever your fault. No woman asks to be attacked, and no mon has the right to take something that isn’t freely given. You are not to blame for any of this. Not then and not now.”

  “You may believe that, but few others do. What would happen to me if I went to my marriage bed, and my husband discovered I wasn’t a virgin? He could beat me. My father could beat me. My husband could annul the marriage. I would humiliate my family and my clan. They would shun me at best, stone me at worst.”

  “Cairrie, these aren’t Biblical times. No one will stone you.”

  “Maybe not, but I could end up in the stalks and labeled a wanton whore for the rest of my life.” Cairstine shook her head. “I’d end up back at a convent, but rather than come with my dignity, I would arrive dishonored and dirty.”

  “Cairrie, there are men out there who would marry you regardless of whether you’re a maiden. You aren’t cuckolding them. It was long enough ago that you’re obviously not carrying another mon’s bairn, nor did you bear another mon’s wean.”

  “But how could I have that conversation without my father finding out or risking my secret being told by a mon disgusted by the truth?”

  Eoin didn’t have an answer to the question, even though it was a fair one to ask. He remained silent as Cairstine leaned her head against Eoin’s chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat soothed her. Her eyes widened, and she froze as an idea came to her. She leaned back and studied Eoin’s face, confusion slowly clouding his eyes.

  “You could do it,” Cairstine announced.

  “I could do what?” Eoin pretended to not understand as his heart raced.

  “You could offer to marry me. I mean, only temporarily.” Cairstine stepped back from Eoin, her hands clasped before her chest in excitement. “I only need to be betrothed long enough for Fenella to marry. We could come up with a reason why we can’t wed first, then once Fenny is wed, you could call it off.”

  “No, Cairstine. No. Whether I call it off or you do, I can’t. I won’t be a party to such deception. It’s not just your family we would be lying to. I won’t lie to Ewan, Allyson, and my father.”

  “You can tell them the truth. We only need to convince my family.”

  “And when we break it off? When I walk away from you or you claim I’ve done something egregious enough to call it off, what woman would consider marrying me after that? I may have bedded my fair share of women, but I want to enter a marriage with my honor intact. I want a marriage in truth, not in name only. No woman would trust me enough to agree to marry me, nor would they believe I’m not so fickle that I would be unfaithful.”

  Cairstine’s heart sank. Everything Eoin said was valid. She hadn’t expected him to want a genuine marriage as much as his words and tone conveyed. She remembered what he’d told her about his parents’ marriage and how he wanted his to be different. She hadn’t thought far enough ahead to the aftermath for Eoin. She’d figured they would break it off, and she’d either live out her days as a spinster or end up back at a convent.

  “You’re right, Eoin. I shouldn’t have asked that of you. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Cairrie, I still want to help you, but I can’t enter a fake betrothal with you. We’ll come up with something else.” Eoin scrubbed his hand over his face. The idea of marrying Cairstine hadn’t repelled him. But once she said it wo
uld be a phony engagement and not a marriage, he could do nothing but balk at the idea. “I take it this means you don’t want to remain here.”

  Cairstine shook her head but shrugged. “I don’t know. Even if Mother Abbess accepts me, I don’t know that this is the right place for me. I will stay a few days, and then I will decide.”

  “Then I will remain too. If you decide to remain, I will return to Huntly. If you want to leave, I will escort you wherever you want.”

  “I can’t delay your family for days. You shouldn’t be inconvenienced either.”

  “They won’t be. I’ll send a message for them to go on without me. I’ll ask that two Gordon guards remain to ride with me. And it’s not an inconvenience, Cairrie. We’re friends.”

  “Friends?” Cairstine seemed to turn the idea over in her head. “I like that. Thank you, Eo.”

  Eo? I rather like that. But why the devil does it sound so horrible when Cairstine says we’re just friends. I’m the one who bluidy well suggested it. Eoin bit his tongue and escorted Cairstine out of the solar and found the prioress waiting for them in the antechamber. Without a word, the prioress led Eoin to the guest quarters before taking Cairstine to the nun’s dormitory.

  Chapter Eleven

  Over the next three days Cairstine fell into a routine. She rose before the sun, which was unfamiliar after two years at court, where many people didn’t rise until midmorning if not noon. She donned the plain brown wool gown a nun had brought her after Mother Abbess showed her the cell she shared with a postulant. Cairstine suspected the woman was younger than her, but she barely acknowledged Cairstine’s greeting, so Cairstine abandoned hope of conversation. The women would shuffle along the cloister in lines as they made their way to Mass.