“What on earth is happenin’ here?” Taran asked Auntie Lili.
Auntie Lili led them through the great hall into a corridor and then into a sumptuously furnished, oak paneled drawing room. A large writing table with ornately carved drawers was pushed against one wall. It was covered with parchment papers, writing pens, and important looking documents. At the far end of the room, Rowena saw a large stone fireplace. A crest of arms hung above it. The crest matched exactly the insignia on the ring given to her by Sister Prudence.
She glanced at Taran, who had been watching her reaction to the sight. They locked eyes for a moment, then she nodded and looked away.
Auntie Lili motioned to them all to sit down. Rowena sat demurely on a long bench, and Taran sat next to her. Malcolm sat in a wooden chair, and Auntie Lili remained standing up.
Taran asked again, “Auntie Lili, what in the devil is goin’ on here? I’ve only been gone a fortnight, and I barely recognize the place now!”
As she started to speak, tears again welled up in her eyes. “While ye were gone, Taran, the English armies came. They ravaged the city of Glasgow, and the town of Frenich. They ransacked most of our farm buildings, but the sheep were scattered about so we did nae lose many of them. While the armies were here a-raidin’, people had to flee. Many of them came here for shelter. I did nae have the heart to turn them away.” She paused to wipe away the tears from her face.
Taran could feel the bile of anger rising up into his throat. Again, his clan had lost so much to the English invaders. When would it all stop? Such waste! Such destruction, and to what purpose?
Auntie Lili composed herself and continued. “A few days ago, we had hundreds of people here seekin’ refuge. We could see the English comin’ right up the lane. And what did the people dae? Ye’d have been proud, Taran. They grabbed anythin’ they could to use as a weapon. Men, women, children, all of ‘em. They marched out into the street and faced those English bastards. When the English saw the Scottish folks massed together, ready to give their lives in defense of their country, the English turned on their heels and went the other way!”
Taran clenched his jaw. “Where was the Scottish army? They had an alliance with the French, and we saw plenty of them in Carneluke.”
Auntie Lili said, “They were busy fightin’ in Glasgow, I’m told.”
Malcolm said, “Makes sense. We saw people pourin’ out of Glasgow on our way here. They must have been tryin’ to get away. We saw lots of destruction there, too.”
Auntie Lili sighed. She said, “Many of our laborers and merchants have nowhere to go now. They have lost their homes, everythin’. Many are shelterin’ here until it’s safe to travel about and they can make other arrangements.”
Taran said, “Aye, tis’ the right thin’ to do, Auntie Lili.”
Auntie Lili plopped down onto a wooden arm chair. She said to Taran, “Now tell me how ye came to be in the company of Sister Rowena here. I dae nae imagine ye as the sort who spends his time cavortin’ with English clergy!”
Taran and Malcolm both laughed at that remark. He and Malcolm told Auntie Lili about how Sister Rowena had rescued them from the English soldiers, her desire to become a full nun at St. Columba’s at the Isle of Iona, the English search party looking for her, her courage to travel alone, and her determination to overcome whatever obstacles God or the devil put in her way. From the way he spoke about Sister Rowena, it was clear to Malcolm and Auntie Lili that he had developed quite a soft spot for her.
Taran finally got around to telling Auntie Lili about the ring Rowena was carrying with her. “When I saw the ring she has, there was nay doubt in my mind that ye needed to see it, too. Show her yer ring, Sister Rowena.”
Rowena reached into her bag and retrieved the ring. She handed it to Auntie Lili who gasped. “Och, me dear Lord! It looks like me brother’s ring! How did ye come to possess this, Sister Rowena?”
Rowena said, “A very special friend gave it to me. That is all I can say about it, as I am sworn to secrecy about the circumstances and I cannot tell you anything more about it. Only that I must take it with me to St. Columba’s. I am sorry I cannot be more forthcoming. Our very lives could depend on it.”
Impatient with Rowena’s secrecy, Malcolm asked, “Sister Rowena, why the need for yer mystery? Ye ken ye can trust us.”
Taran said, “Aye, ye can trust us. The question is, can we … should we … trust ye?
Rowena shot him a hard look and said, “Just what are you insinuating, Taran?”
He looked her right in the eyes. “I’m questionin’ whether we ought to trust ye. Ye will nae tell us anythin’ and what you dae tell us makes nay sense!”
Rowena looked at him with fury in her eyes. It was the first time Taran had seen her truly angry, despite everything they had been through in the last couple of days. “Are you accusing me of lying to you?” Her voice sounded as hard as iron.
Taran said, “I’m sayin’ that I dinnae ken what to think.” He started to rattle off all of the events of the last couple of days. “Ye happen to appear in the middle of the night in the border lands all alone at just the moment that Malcolm and me fend off the robbers and then taken prisoner by the English. Ye manage to rescue us right out from under the noses of the English soldiers, showin’ the prowess not of a nun but of a trained warrior. Then ye tell us ye’re a nun travelin’ to some remote abbey in the Hebrides. While we hide ye at me lodge, a gang of English fighters come lookin’ for ye, callin’ ye ‘Lady’ Rowena, nae ‘Sister’. They were ready to kill us for ye, and instead they burned me place down. Next, I see ye talkin’ to a French soldier in Carneluke, a French soldier who just happens to be allied with the Scottish army durin’ the very week the English decide to invade Scotland. Then I find this ring. A ring that I believe once belonged to me own faither.”
Taran paused, waiting for her to offer an explanation that would make sense to everyone. Rowena said nothing.
Awkward silence hung in the room. Everyone stared at Rowena, but she kept her eyes lowered. Taran had to do something to get answers from her. He looked at Auntie Lili and Malcolm and said, “Will ye excuse us for a moment? I’d like to talk to Sister Rowena in private.”
Auntie Lili said, “Aye. I need to tend to our guests. Malcolm, me love, we could use yer help.” The two got up and left.
Taran turned to Rowena. She got to her feet, but said nothing. He took a deep breath and said angrily, “I think ye’re a spy, Sister. A spy for the English. And the English are searchin’ the countryside for ye because they think we’ve taken ye prisoner. So ye must be someone important to them. Or perhaps they think ye’ve betrayed them. And now they’re lookin’ for ye. They’re lookin’ for all of us, and if they find us, they will nae spare us our lives.”
Rowena could hardly think of how to respond to his wild accusation. She felt her fury rising up inside her. Her honor was something she held dear. Never in her life had she been accused of such betrayal. Did he not know that he was accusing her of treason! That was a hanging offense! “A spy! How dare you accuse me of that?! Taran, you cannot really believe that about me!”
He felt helpless. He was struggling to understand this most uncommon beauty. He said, “I dinnae want to believe it, but I am findin’ it difficult to think anythin’ else. What respectable woman would be roamin’ around by herself the way ye dae? It is simply nae done. Ye must be pretendin’ to be a nun so ye can move about freely... and talk to anyone ye meet without anyone wonderin’ about yer motives.”
His allegations left Rowena flabbergasted. Her emotions reeled because in reality, she just wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him close, cover him with kisses to reassure him that he could trust her. She composed herself and said, “I have no interest in the intrigue of your king’s men or mine, no interest in their conquests, or in their quests for power. I serve only the Lord God.” She stepped closer to him, took his hand, and looked up at him in earnest, “Taran, I would never do anything to hurt you.
I need you to trust me. To believe in me. What can I do to prove it to you?”
Taran searched her beautiful face, seeking clues that she was lying to him. Yet he saw only love light in her spell-binding eyes. Her touch, her closeness, filled him with desire. She seemed to want him, too, but he could not be sure. He felt stiffening in his groin and tried to shake it off. He thought, Her beauty is making it hard for me to think clearly. I want to believe her, but she continues to hide something very important from me. Why? Finally, he said, “I dinnae ken, Sister.”
She examined the ring, marveling at the strange coincidence that had connected it with Taran, a man she had not known two days ago but who was now the most important man in her life. An idea began to take shape.
She said, “Taran, you are needed here with the people of Frenich. Stay here, and let me continue to St. Columba’s in the escort of one of your most trusted knights. He can then return here with your father’s ring.”
Taran thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Nay, I cannae entrust yer supervision to anyone, nae even me most loyal servant. Nae even Malcolm. Ye will write a letter to the abbess seeking her approval for ye to join them. Me knight will deliver the letter along with yer ring. Ye will await her answer here, with me, under me own supervision.”
Rowena was silent. “I’m givin’ ye nay choice in this matter, Sister,” Taran said in a somber tone. He pulled a chair over to the writing table and motioned her to sit down. “Right now,” he said, as he grabbed a pen and held it out to her.
She nodded. “Of course,” she said. She sat down and thought about what the letter would say. I must be careful not to put too much information in this letter lest it fall into the wrong hands, she realized. After a few moments, she wrote a short letter. It said:
To the Abbess of St. Columba
Isle of Iona, Scottish Hebrides
Dearest Mother:
I have been referred to you by a sister in faith of the abbey of St. Martha in Jarrow, of Northumberland. Our sister advised me to contact you to express my desire to complete my service as a novitiate nun and enter into full sisterhood under your guidance at St. Columba. I am enclosing a ring that she gave me to assure you of my good faith and my commitment to the service of our Lord God.
With this letter I beseech you to grant my request. I fear that my life is in danger here.
Please entrust your response to my messenger along with the enclosed ring. If you are amenable to my request, I shall travel to St. Columba with all haste so as to begin my new life there.
Yours faithfully in Christ our Lord,
Lay Sister Rowena Cran
She handed the letter to Taran so he could read it. He nodded his approval, then folded the letter, sealed it, and put it in a breast pocket. He felt a twinge of heartbreak at the idea that Rowena belonged to God and would never be his. He ignored the feeling and said, “Thank ye, Sister. I will have it sent out first thing in the morning.”
What she said next surprised him. “Thank you, Taran. While we wait for an answer, I insist on helping you and Auntie Lili tend to the needs of your many refugees. The women and children need consolation. They are terrified. I can also help restore the farm in whatever way I can.”
Taran looked at her with a sparkle of hope in his green eyes. What a blessing she is, he thought. “Aye, I think that may work.”
Rowena’s expression brightened. “Wonderful! I will get started immediately!”
Taran smiled and said, “Nay. Tonight, ye need to rest. Ye’ve had a time of it the last couple of nights. Let me fetch Auntie Lili. She can show ye a place to sleep. I’ll have her draw a warm bath for ye and get ye some fresh clothes, too. If ye’re goin’ to stay here, ye need to get out of the nun’s tunic. Too many people will see ye and talk about the bonnie English nun stayin’ at Frenich. Word will get out.”
Rowena agreed. Earning her keep in the safety of Taran’s castle while she waited for word from St. Columba’s was a fair price to pay.
That night, Taran was the last to turn in. He could not get Rowena out of his mind. Her beauty haunted his mind’s eye. The sound of her voice melted his heart. He felt an indescribable joy when she was near. His instincts told him that she was incapable of the duplicity he had accused her of, but nothing else explained the extraordinary way she burst into his life.
He regretted being so harsh to her; he was mostly expressing his frustration at her unwillingness to tell him her secrets. Malcolm had warned him several times that this was a sign she could not be trusted. But to Taran, Sister Rowena was pure of heart.
It dawned on him that she is in the middle of something dangerous, and she needs protection. But from what? Or is me judgment just clouded by this inexplicable attraction I am feelin’ for her?
He downed the last of his ale and headed for his bedchamber. Though the castle was dark, Taran needed no lights to find his way. The place had been his home for his whole life. He knew every stone, every window, every inch of it by heart.
His soft leather boots made no sound on the stone floor. The way to his chamber took him right past Sister Rowena’s. Taran paused in front of her door and stared at the handle. Behind the door he would find Sister Rowena, dressed in nothing but her night dress. Just like she was that night in Carneluke.
The memory of the night before had been haunting him. He longed to look at her, to murmur good night to her, to kiss her lips, to once again feel her body against his own. It had been too long since he had been with a good woman, and never had he known any woman like Sister Rowena. But he would never force himself on her.
He touched the handle and let his fingers rest on it, then grip it. Perhaps she is awake and would welcome me into her arms. Och, this is madness! She is devotin’ herself to the Lord. And I am nae crooked nosed knave! This churlish behavior would bring shame on me clan as well as Sister Rowena.
With all of his inner strength, he shook off his profound desire for Rowena. He forced his hand to release her door handle. He stepped back from the door and went straight to his own bed.
19
Earl Strongbow had no doubt that they would find Lady Rowena and liberate her from her Highland captors. He had convinced himself that she had been taken against her will by enemies of the crown—whether Highlanders or traitors, he did not know. He did not care. Once they were found, he would kill them. Of course she had been taken against her will! What possible reason could she have had to run away? Earl Strongbow felt a surge of confidence as he led his search party north alongside the river on the very same trail that they had followed only yesterday.
Just before noon, Earl Strongbow ordered the men to spread out and proceed at a slow walk. They needed to look for the path that led to the Highlanders’ hideout. He glanced over his shoulder at his men in the rear. At the very rear, he noticed Squire John chatting with two of the knights that had nearly caught their quarry the day before. Earl Strongbow turned his horse around and cantered back to them. When the men saw him coming toward them, they cringed.
Earl Strongbow shouted at them gruffly. “You dobbers! Stop your dawdling! Ride ahead and find that path!”
The three did what he ordered, studying the side of the trail as they went, looking for the path that had taken them to the Highlanders hideout. Meanwhile, the rest of the men and Earl Strongbow himself scanned their surroundings and studied the ground for clues. They tried in vain to find anything that would indicate Rowena and the two Highlanders had been there recently.
With each minute that passed, Earl Strongbow became more impatient. It was another minute for Lady Rowena and her captors to get farther away. He muttered curses under his breath. He cursed his knights for their incompetence, cursed the ignorant people of Scotland, cursed the king, and cursed Lady Rowena for being so careless. His men tried to distance themselves from him as best they could, not wanting to be the target of his ire.
About thirty yards farther up the trail, Squire John called out, “Lord Strongbow, it’s here! We foun
d the path!”
Earl Strongbow grumbled, “At last!”
He trotted his horse forward and peered at the place where the path branched off from the riverside trail. The junction was almost completely obscured by shrubs. Earl Strongbow deduced it could not have been that overgrown after his men’s horses had ridden through only yesterday. They would have trampled all the plants that were in their way. Someone must have concealed it deliberately. He reached out and grabbed a branch of a shrub. He gave it a sharp tug. An entire bough of a scrub oak tipped over and fell to the ground. Just as I thought, someone had piled brush here to try to hide the path. Did Lady Rowena’s captors know they were being tracked by Earl Strongbow?
Earl Strongbow urged his horse through the brush onto the path. Clearly the path was not heavily traveled. It was not rutted by cart and wagon traffic, nor was it pockmarked by animal hooves other than fresh hoof prints which could have been left by his own knights, or by any other band of thieves that infested this part of the country. Moreover, all of the farms used their own paths and trails to crisscross the landscape. Earl Strongbow had to be sure they were on the right track here. He shouted, “Squire John, there must be hundreds of these footpaths around here. Are you certain this is the right one?”
Highlander's Sinful Desire (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance) Page 14