Daniel forced himself to sit down again and played with the edge of his goblet as he stared at it. “I’ll tell you why she’s leaving. Because I can’t protect her. What is a Highlander supposed to do but protect the innocent? And I failed her in that.” He dropped his hand from the goblet and passed his gaze from one cousin to the next, ending with his brother. “What have our sires all taught us since we were out of the cradle? Protect the innocent. Protect those who cannot help themselves. I did a pish poor job of it, did I not?”
David shook his head adamantly, leaning toward him. “You are not thinking clearly, Daniel. I know you’re young, but if you’ve found someone you have strong feelings for, you need to pursue her before you lose her. Has my experience with Anna taught you naught?”
Daniel did his best to keep his voice level, but he failed. “If she doesn’t reciprocate those feelings, what is the point? Besides, for now, I’m needed in the Band of Cousins. As soon as I take her back to the abbey, I’m going to head to Ramsay land, look for Gavin and Gregor. We need to stop those men. Forget I ever mentioned her. We’re not right for each other. Connor, will you travel with me?”
“Aye,” he said in his usual calm tone. “But you should have a serious discussion with Constance before you go. If you have any feelings for her, you should tell her before she takes her vows, but more importantly, you need to find out what she’s afraid of and why. Else you might go back for her, only to learn she’s gone—and you can’t find her because you don’t even know her true name.”
Daniel glared at his cousin, irritated with everyone for telling him what to do. He was also irritated that Connor had thought of something he hadn’t. “Connor, why should I take your advice when you’re not married? What do you know about lasses?”
Connor locked his gaze on Daniel’s and said, “Mayhap I don’t know much, but there’s one thing I do know. When I find the lass I wish to marry, I’ll never let her go. I want a marriage like my parents’, and I’ll settle for naught less. If I must wait, I will. But when I find her, she’ll never get rid of me.”
“Daniel, you need to stop thinking your missing hand is causing your problems. It isn’t. It’s your head that’s misleading you,” David said. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
Daniel said nothing. What could he say? He wouldn’t let on how strong his feelings were for Constance because they’d spend another hour trying to convince him to marry her. But how could he build toward a future with a lass who didn’t trust him enough to tell him her sire’s name?
But worse than that, she didn’t trust him to protect her. He could see it in her eyes.
Without trust, they were nothing together.
***
As soon as Constance arrived back at the abbey, she went directly to her chamber and cried her eyes out. Rose was gone and so was Daniel. She’d probably never see him again. She’d slept late, because it had taken so long for her to fall asleep, and when she’d awakened, the group of guards and cousins was ready to travel. She’d barely had the chance to say goodbye to Cairstine and Anne and Celestina. She’d hoped to get the chance to speak to Daniel alone, but the opportunity never arose. The journey had been wrought with tension, the guards all on edge every time a twig cracked, but there was also tension between the two of them. She knew she’d hurt him by holding back her true sire’s name.
She just couldn’t risk revealing the truth to him yet. He had to trust her on that, and the obvious truth was he didn’t.
A knock sounded on her door, so she wiped her face with a linen square and sat up. “Enter,” she whispered.
To her surprise, it was Ada, one of the lasses whom Daniel and his friends had saved. “What’s wrong, Constance?”
Constance shrugged her shoulders, then said, “I miss Rose.” It wasn’t a complete falsehood because she did miss her dear. “Ada, I’m so sorry for all you endured on that galley ship.”
Ada sat on the end of the bed. “When Father Seward gave me to those men, I wanted to cry, but then they gave us something that put me to sleep, so I don’t recall much else. That was wise on their part. If I’d been awake during the thunderstorm on the water, I would have been screaming and heaving over the side of the boat. I don’t know how Rose saved us. Some of the other lasses are jealous, but I’m happy for her.”
Talking about her dear friend would only bring her tears back. It was all just too raw at the moment. “How have things been here?”
“Pretty quiet, but they’re bringing some young orphans here to be cared for.”
Sister Murreall appeared in the doorway. “Welcome back, my dear. The abbess would like to see you when you are ready.”
“All right. I’ll go see her now.”
The nun nodded to her gown. “You might wish to put on your novice clothing instead, lass. There are two clean gowns and shifts in the chest.”
Constance sighed and stood up. “I’ll be right along as soon as I change, Sister.”
“Child, are you limping? Are you hurt?”
Constance wouldn’t lie about this. “I took a fall at Muir Castle and sprained my ankle, but do not worry. ’Tis much better. It only aches if I walk too much.” She’d leave out the part about her headaches. Those she could manage.
“Do you need assistance?”
“Nay, I just move slowly, but my thanks, Sister Murreall.”
“If you change your mind, you need only call my name. I’ll hear you.” The sweet woman smiled before she ushered Ada out.
The two left and Constance did her best to improve her appearance for the abbess. She washed her face after she changed, though the redness around her eyes would probably remain. She took a deep breath, said a quick prayer, and slowly padded down the passageway and the stairway until she reached the abbess’s office.
Surprised to see the door open, she paused in the entryway and rapped lightly on the wood. The abbess had her back to Constance, perusing something written on parchment, but she whirled around, skirts billowing. When she saw it was Constance, her expression cleared. “Good day to you, child. Welcome back. Please sit down, Constance, but close the door first.”
She did as instructed and took the chair opposite the desk. The abbess sat across from her in her usual chair.
“You miss your friend, I see. I’m assuming that’s the cause of your swollen eyes?”
She nodded, sniffling a bit as she struggled to hold her tears in. Why did she have to discuss Rose?
“And Sister Murreall tells me you’ve sprained your ankle?”
“Aye, but ’tis much better.”
“Take your time wherever you go.” The mother abbess cleared her throat before she began her lecture, or what she guessed would be a lecture. “I’ll not remind you of Rose, my dear, so let’s move on. We’ve been advised that we will have a small group of bairns brought to the abbey. They are orphans of various ages ranging from two to eight summers. I was wondering if you would be willing to teach the lasses and also watch over them during meals and chapel. I’m sure they’ll be quite frightened when they arrive.”
Constance could feel just a wee bit of excitement over this possibility. “I would love to help with the young ones.”
“That brings me to another issue I wish to discuss with you.” The abbess sat forward in her chair, now leaning toward Constance with her hands folded on the desk. “Your heritage. I allowed you the chance to think about it, but now I wish for you to tell me who your sire is.”
Constance stared at her fingers, a sudden panic tearing through her. What should she do? Tell the truth? She could not. If the abbess knew the truth, she would probably turn her over to her father, and she couldn’t let that happen. She wished to live a normal life, or as close to normal as possible.
“Constance, only lasses born of noble blood are taught to read, and many times the nobility only teach their lads, not their lasses. Why were you taught?”
She decided the truth would not give away her identity. “My eldest brother taug
ht me to read, so my parents asked me to teach the others. My sisters were allowed to watch from the back of the chamber.”
“My thanks to you. I believe you tell the truth. It makes me proud to see lasses who are not afraid to use their minds. And since I believe in lasses learning to read along with lads, I’ll ask you to teach the older bairns their letters.”
She clasped her hands together and smiled. “Many thanks, Mother Abbess. I will not let you down. I promise to work verra hard.”
The abbess held her hand up, indicating that Constance should stop. “I’ll allow it under one condition. I need to know who your sire is.”
What could she do? She wracked her brain for a solution but came up empty.
Forgive me, God, for I am about to sin. I see no other way. Please don’t punish me for lying.
“Constance? What have you decided? Do you wish to work with the bairns or not?”
She tapped her feet, alternating right and left, and fiddled with her hands.
Memories assailed her in spite of herself. Her sire had always treated his guards well—until the day he had ordered one of them to be flogged in front of everyone. The man’s name had been Mungo MacKenzie. So furious was her sire that he did not dare hold the whip himself, instead pacing and bellowing behind the man as he was punished for something Constance still did not fully understand. That had been the last day they’d ever seen Mungo. She only knew he’d committed an indiscretion.
The very word one of her brothers had used to describe what she herself had done.
She hadn’t been allowed to watch the man’s beating, but she’d snuck out to the stables with one of her brothers, peeking out of the opening between the wooden slats. The fury on her sire’s face had terrified her.
“Lass, are you hearing my words?” Mother Abbess asked, leaning forward on her desk before she slapped her hand down on the wood surface, the harsh sound bringing Constance’s attention back to the present.
Tears sprang to her eyes and threatened to flood her face. “I’m sorry, Mother Abbess. You ask a difficult question.”
“Lass, I wish you would trust me. I’m certain I could find a way to help you, whatever troubles you believe you have. Just give me the name for now. ’Tis all I ask.”
She kept her gaze down, unable to look at the woman. She had no choice but to tell another lie, and while the name she was about to give would be discovered, she could think of no others at the moment. Every other name that came to mind was certain to cause a quick response. This one she hoped could buy her time, especially since it was a total fabrication on her part, so she gulped and whispered it aloud.
“MacKenzie. My sire is Mungo MacKenzie.”
Chapter Nine
Daniel and Connor arrived on Ramsay land two days later, pleased to see Gavin and Gregor riding out to greet them.
“Why are you here and not off with your sister, Gavin?” Daniel asked.
“Maggie and Will have gone to the royal castle to deal with Jean MacDole and her accomplices. Papa went with them. Once they return, we’ll decide where to go next.”
Jean was Rose’s mother—an awful woman who’d schemed with Father Seward to sell lasses through the Channel of Dubh.
“Aye,” Connor said. “We stopped at Will’s place, but his grandsire said they haven’t been there in a while. You were next on our list. I haven’t been here in a while. Is Torrian here?”
“Aye, he, Cailean, and Kyle are in the lists if you wish to go.”
“Nay,” Connor replied. “I’m off to the keep. Aunt Brenna has the best cook. I need to eat before I start sparring.”
“And mayhap Jennet will be there,” Daniel said, smiling. His wee cousin made him laugh like none other. She had a mighty mind, stronger than most adults, though she didn’t have a strong sense of social niceties. Jennet would shock everyone and not have a care about it. She’d been kidnapped before—and had even frightened her kidnappers.
“Aye, she’s eager to see you,” Gregor said, giving him a significant look. Jennet was his wee sister, though the two did not seem much alike. “Wait until you see what she’s been working on. You must be a favorite of hers, Daniel.” He flicked the reins of his horse and led the way across the small bridge leading to the open gate in their curtain wall.
Daniel had no idea what Gregor alluded to, but he looked forward to finding out. He lifted his face to the light wind, breathing in the hint of Scottish pine always in the air, something he loved. Once they entered the bailey, the aroma of flowers greeted him, and that reminded him of someone he was doing his best to forget.
But he couldn’t forget her, not even for a moment. Already he missed Constance.
The others were talking, Gavin’s voice audible above the others, but he found he couldn’t pay attention. He rode along in his own world, thinking of Constance’s red curls and the way she’d looked at him before he left her at the abbey, a mix of sadness and regret in her eyes, when Gavin cried out, “Do my eyes deceive me or do I see some lovesickness on your face, Daniel?” The next thing he did shocked Daniel. Gavin tipped his head back and let out his best combination of a Ramsay, Grant, Drummond war whoop.
Connor guffawed. “What the hell was that?”
Gavin laughed. “That was a love whoop. Daniel’s got the love whoops. We all saw him with Constance.”
Connor couldn’t stop himself and broke into a full belly laugh. “Gavin, you’re not wrong, but you better run when you dismount.”
The three cousins laughed as they approached the stables. They hopped down before Daniel, who took his time. When he finally dismounted, he marched past the three of them, whose shoulders were still shaking with laughter. He stopped next to Gavin and said, “Sad to see you’re so jealous.” He patted Gavin’s shoulder and said, “Mayhap someday, wee laddie.”
A horrified look stole over Gavin’s face, as if Daniel had cursed him, but the other two let out a loud, satisfied whoop.
The door to the great hall flew open and Aunt Brenna stepped out. “Are those two of my favorite nephews? If so, you better hurry up for a hug or I’ll tell Cook you aren’t hungry.”
Daniel loved his aunt Brenna, Gregor’s mother, the best healer in all the land. She’d married his uncle after curing his two bairns of a strange illness. She’d acted as mother to Lily and Torrian ever since, and they’d rarely been ill.
He left his cousins to their jests and hurried up the steps to greet his aunt. Connor let out a final laugh and climbed up after him. “Greetings to you, Auntie.” He hugged her and stepped back so his cousin could do the same.
“Daniel, you look more and more like your father every day, and Connor… Oh my, you look so much like your father I find it haunting. And will you ever stop growing? Are you as tall as your sire yet?”
“I think I’m a wee bit taller, Aunt Brenna. He won’t allow me to stand next to him anymore.”
She chuckled. “Oh, ’tis definitely a sign you’re taller. He doesn’t like to be bested in anything, though he would prefer to be surpassed by one of his sons than a stranger. Come inside. I’ll find you some stew and mayhap a pastry or two.”
It wasn’t a normal mealtime, so the hall was largely deserted, but the four cousins sat down at one of the trestle tables and ate, sharing tales of their travels, boasting about their strengths as they often did, and discussing what had happened at Braden’s castle. Daniel had just refilled his goblet with ale when two voices carried across the balcony.
“Daniel! Connor!” Jennet and Brigid flew down the stairs to greet them, together as usual. They were as inseparable as their brothers, Gregor and Gavin, were.
After greeting the lads, Jennet and Brigid sat at the table with them, waiting for them to finish their meal. Jennet seemed rather impatient, and when Aunt Brenna emerged from the kitchens, she jumped to her feet and said, “May I, Mama?”
“Of course. Now would be a wonderful time to show him your creation.” Aunt Brenna came up behind Daniel and set her hands on his should
ers. “Daniel, do you recall the last time you visited, and Jennet expressed her concern about your plight of only having one hand?”
“Aye.” Her questions had impressed him, demonstrating a wisdom rarely seen in a young lass of only ten summers. She’d asked him about the feeling in his arm, his shoulder, even in his missing fingers. She was a most curious lass.
“Go ahead, Jennet. Fetch it and show it to Daniel,” Aunt Brenna said.
Daniel had no idea what she referred to, but he was definitely curious.
Aunt Brenna said, “Daniel, she was so taken by the seriousness of your situation, losing your hand and, more importantly, your fingers, that she set a goal for herself. We’ve heard of armorers attaching hooks to limbs, but we wanted to be more creative. She designed something she hopes will be helpful to you.”
Now Daniel’s interest was definitely piqued. The Drummond healer had suggested that he put a hook on the end of his arm, but he hadn’t wished to look any more outlandish than he already did.
Jennet had disappeared into Aunt Brenna’s healing chamber. He stared at the door, trying to imagine what his wee cousin could possibly have conjured up for him. But nothing could have prepared him for what Jennet carried in her hands when she rejoined them.
In fact, his cousins had started chattering on about sword fighting, but all conversation came to a halt as soon as she returned to the great hall.
Daniel was so stunned, he found himself standing, never taking his eyes off the lass and what she carried in her arms. She set the contraption she carried on the table beside him.
“Allow me to explain, Daniel,” she said in a serious tone. “After discussing this with my mama and papa, I concluded that what you need most is something to grip with, and that it was important for it be the same length as your other arm. I may have to make some adjustments,” she said as she picked up her creation. “But I do believe this could assist you with a few of the most basic tasks in your life.” She turned it over to show him.
He picked up the leather sleeve she’d created, presumably to slip onto his forearm and act like a new hand. As he stared at it, he did something he hadn’t done in years, and he didn’t care. Tears formed on his lashes, and he let them fall, only bothering to swipe them away when they interfered with his vision.
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