The Angel and the Highlander

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The Angel and the Highlander Page 3

by Donna Fletcher


  That day Alyce carved her own name in the cross that marked Sister Terese’s grave and took her identity. She was finally free.

  Chapter 3

  Terese always rose just before sunrise. She loved to greet the dawn, watch as the first ray of light peeked on the horizon then slowly spread over the land. She felt as if the heavens touched her anew and it gladdened her heart each morning.

  However, this morning her heart was a little heavy. Lachlan and his men were up at first light and asking permission to build a shelter much too close to the compound. They would hear everything the women were up to, and that wouldn’t do.

  Terese kept a pleasant smile as she walked Lachlan nearer to the entrance of the convent, away from the common shelter and the woods beyond. “I believe this area would better serve your purpose.”

  Lachlan glanced around.

  Terese offered an explanation before he could protest. “It is the only entrance to the convent.” She crossed her fingers behind her back for protection against her small lie, for she and the women had forged a significant entrance through the woods.

  Lachlan nodded. “Then it will do.”

  She pointed to woods opposite from where the weapons were hid. “You will find sturdy trees there to be build your shelter.”

  “Thank you and my men will hunt and provide fare for tonight’s meal,” he said.

  Piper caused Lachlan to jump, startled by her sudden appearance. Not so Terese, she was used to Piper popping up when least expected. The wiry young lass was quick-footed and silent in her approach, though she made herself known when she wanted to.

  “I’ll show your hunters the best hunting ground,” Piper offered.

  Lachlan signaled to Evan and he hurried over. “Evan well knows the scent of the hunt in the woods.”

  Piper tapped her chest. “These are my woods.”

  Lachlan grinned. “Would you mind sharing them with Evan?”

  Piper scrunched her nose and looked Evan up and down. “You can keep a good pace? I won’t have to hold your hand?”

  Terese kept herself from laughing and noticed that Lachlan did the same. She was glad to see that he wasn’t insulted, but rather found Piper’s remarks amusing.

  Evan was quick to assure her. “No, Sister, you’ll find me knowledgeable of the woods. There’ll be no hand holding.”

  “There better not be,” Lachlan said seriously, though his deep brown eyes twinkled with merriment.

  Evan’s pale cheeks turned scarlet while Piper shook her head and said to Evan, “Follow me.”

  “The lad is susceptible to your teasing,” Terese remarked, watching the pair walk away and wishing that Piper could know how it felt for a young man to hold her hand. At nineteen, she was the youngest of the women and had confided in Terese that she knew nothing of men, but that sometimes she found herself curious.

  “A teasing reminder,” Lachlan said. “I want my men to remember that while you are all beautiful women, you are nuns.”

  “Are you saying that I’m beautiful, sir?”

  For a moment he startled, presumably realizing he had just complimented a nun on her beauty. But he caught himself and delivered a charming smile.

  “I meant no disrespect, Sister Terese, but when a woman is beautiful there is no denying it, whether a nun or not.”

  She felt her heart catch. While he was obviously a quick-witted charmer, she couldn’t help think that it was the first time anyone had ever told her that she was beautiful. Usually, it was the opposite. An ugly shrew, that’s what she had been called far too often.

  Terese briefly savored the special moment then took control of the situation. “I will allow your compliment, but in the future, please refrain yourself.”

  Lachlan bowed his head respectfully. “As you wish, Sister.”

  “I did wish to discuss with you the contents of the message you intend to send to church officials,” she said, reminding herself that there were more important matters to consider than being told she was beautiful.

  “I thought you would, so my men stand ready to leave as soon as we finish discussing the matter.”

  “Your thoughtfulness is appreciated,” she said. While she would have preferred to be more blunt, she had to remember she was supposedly a nun; a pious and patient woman. How far from the truth that was.

  “I plan to inform the officials of your present status,” Lachlan said.

  “Which is?”

  “That five of you are left out of the”—he paused a moment—“I believe I was told Mother Abbess, plus eight nuns and Alyce Bunnock had been sent here.”

  “That’s correct,” Terese said.

  “That would mean that five succumbed to the sickness.”

  “Again correct.”

  “Then why ten graves?” he asked.

  “We picked up a few women in need along the way,” Terese answered, having prepared herself for his questions. She realized from the first that Lachlan Sinclare might appear a charmer, but he was far from a fool. Besides, she knew somewhat of the Sinclare brothers having heard her father speak with respect about them. They were well-honored and courageous warriors, which was probably why he requested help from the laird Sinclare in fetching his daughter.

  “Perhaps one of them brought the sickness with them.”

  “It’s possible,” she agreed, though it had been one of the nuns who had fallen ill before the other women had joined them. “I don’t think the church will be interested as to what caused the sickness.”

  “It isn’t only the church I’ll be answering to,” he said. “As I told you last night, Angus Bunnock might have questions.”

  The image of her father rushed into her head. He was big and broad with a booming voice and snow white hair down to his chest and a bushy mustache that tickled her whenever he would pick her up and cuddle her when she was little.

  She didn’t know what happened to change things between herself and her father, or perhaps she did. She had developed a willful mind, though it had been he who encouraged it. She felt she merely was truly her father’s daughter. She would do as she pleased, not as she was told and her mouth was sharp with retorts. Her father had warned her that no one would seek a union with her if she didn’t watch her mouth. She was fine with that, for she wanted no master for a husband. Her father thought differently.

  “As I told you, she is at peace. That should make him happy,” Terese said.

  “You spent time traveling here with Alyce Bunnock, what did you think of her?”

  Terese wasn’t sure what to say about herself. Did she tell him that Alyce was an intelligent woman, brave, adept with weapons, and could sit a horse with skill? Did she tell him that Alyce was good at tactics, having helped her father plan his battle strategies? Or did she confirm what he probably had heard; that Alyce Bunnock was not the easiest person to befriend?

  “I spent limited time with her.”

  “Your choice?” Lachlan asked.

  “Circumstances.”

  “Or is it that you wish not to speak ill of the dead?”

  “Alyce Bunnock was not a bad woman,” she said, no longer able to stand there and not defend herself. “And it is not appropriate to speak callously of the dead.”

  Her reprimand wiped the smile off his face. “I meant no disrespect. I only—”

  “Wanted to satisfy your own curiosity,” she finished for him and held up her hand to prevent further protest. “Alyce Bunnock is dead and buried. Let her rest in peace.”

  He nodded, though she could see he wasn’t pleased by her command. He let a gentle smile surface and graced his tone with charm.

  “I will inform the church officials of how dedicated you all are to the convent and how you all wish to continue your work.”

  “Please also add that we have worked diligently with the pagans in the area and they are prospering through our efforts.”

  “You have converted many?” he asked.

  “Yes, we have converted many to our ways,�
�� she answered, not bothering to define our ways for him.

  “The church, I am sure, will be happy to hear this.”

  She was counting on that and hoped the next couple of months would not prove as difficult as she feared. “Then let your men be off, so that this matter may be settled as soon as possible.”

  “I hope that our stay here will prove more of an asset than a hindrance.”

  She hoped the same herself, but a little help from the heavens wouldn’t hurt. “God willing all will go well.”

  A raised voice caught both their attention. When Terese turned to see Megan marching toward her, her dark curly hair bouncing madly around her flushed face, and with one of Lachlan’s men close on her heels, she feared the heavens might finally be upset with her never-ending string of lies.

  “Tell this man…” Megan shook her finger at the warrior who now stood beside her.

  Lachlan supplied his name. “Andrew. He is trustworthy and courageous.”

  “That may be the case, but I am in no need of him,” Megan insisted.

  Andrew offered an explanation. “She is, that is Sister Megan is, going to visit a few farms and I thought perhaps she could use help.”

  Megan looked to Terese. “And I told him I don’t need his help, thank you very much.”

  Terese knew from the brilliance of Megan’s green eyes that she was annoyed. It was a trait all the women were aware of and they treaded lightly around her at those times.

  “It is very thoughtful of you, Andrew,” Terese said and hoped her excuse would prove viable. “But Sister Megan always goes alone. She enjoys the solitary walks.”

  “But she’s so-so-so—little,” Andrew finally spit out.

  Terese almost rolled her eyes, knowing his remark would only provoke Megan’s annoyance more. And sure enough, Megan turned on Andrew with a flourish.

  The six foot, lean-muscled man took a step back as Megan, all five feet three of her, vehemently shook her finger in his face, though she had to stretch her hand up to do it.

  “You think size makes a difference? Why—why I could—”

  Terese stepped in before Megan said something she would regret and would make matters worse for them. She grabbed hold of the waving finger. “Sister Megan, Andrew is merely trying to help, while here.”

  A reminder of who the man thought her to be had the desired affect and the color of Megan’s eyes instantly softened. She was quick to offer a suitable apology. “Forgive me. I thought only of myself and the walks I so enjoy.”

  Andrew hastily offered a compromise. “I could keep a distance from you so that you feel as if you walk alone.”

  Megan smiled and all the women loved to see her smile, since it had taken almost two years after she had joined them for her smile to return. But her smile obviously had a different affect on men, for Andrew looked as if he had been punched in the gut, his soft blue eyes popping wide.

  Terese looked to Lachlan and nodded.

  He shook his head and with a sigh addressed the matter. “Perhaps another time, Andrew.”

  He didn’t respond; he simply continued to stare at Megan.

  “Andrew!” Lachlan said firmly.

  “Huh?” Andrew said, turning his head so sharply that his black shoulder-length hair whipped him in the mouth and with a quick swipe he shoved the strands away.

  “You can join Sister Megan another time,” Lachlan repeated, then looked to Terese before turning his attention to Megan. “Of course, that is if Sister Megan doesn’t mind.”

  Terese nodded at Megan to agree. Aware that Lachlan had gently ordered her to concur with him and being that it would give Megan time to inform the farmers of their situation, she happily complied with his silent command.

  Megan understood and smiled once again. “I would enjoy Andrew’s company another day.”

  “I assume we are finished here?” Terese asked of Lachlan. “I have duties to see to and I wish to speak with Sister Megan before she takes her leave.”

  Lachlan nodded. “You have been of great help. We will speak later.”

  “As you wish,” Terese said and walked off with Megan at her side.

  “What were you thinking?” Lachlan asked once the sisters were far enough away not to hear him. “Wait.” He held up his hand and shook his head. “I know what you were thinking. Do you realize she is Sister Megan?”

  Andrew shrugged and shook his head. “What can I say? She’s beautiful, even more so when she smiles, and she’s so damned petite. You know how I love petite women.”

  “She is a nun!”

  “I know. I know. I’m going to burn in hell for my wicked thoughts.”

  Lachlan empathized with Andrew; since he’d probably be burning right along side him.

  “Maybe it’s better if you keep your distance from her,” Lachlan suggested, thinking that he should take his own advice.

  “I was afraid you would say that.”

  “And I’m afraid of what may happen if you don’t,” Lachlan said sternly.

  “I understand, but you can’t think I’m the only one looking at these women as women. Since not a one of them wear the traditional robes, it’s hard to think of them as nuns.”

  He was right about that, not that Lachlan intended to agree, though neither could he appear blind to his men’s plight. “Regardless, they are nuns and are due respect. Do I make myself clear?”

  Andrew hung his head and sighed. “I will be ever vigilant.” He raised his head. “But Sister Megan does need protecting, and I’d like to protect her.” When Lachlan rolled his eyes, Andrew was quick to add, “You can trust me.”

  “For two maybe three months?”

  Andrew looked stricken, but reassured him. “I give you my word.”

  That was good enough for Lachlan, since Andrew’s word was his honor. “Then I shall take you at your word. Now go get five men, though not Kyle or Patrick, they will be the two who return home.” He nodded to the cropping of woods. “Take the men and cut down what is needed for a shelter. The laborious chore will help clear your mind.”

  Andrew didn’t argue; he did as he was told.

  Lachlan remained where he was, glancing out over the convent. The time spent here would not be easy on his men, though he knew they would treat the nuns with respect, even if they silently lusted after them.

  He cringed at the sinful thought, especially since he was no different. But that would stop this moment. There was work to do: men to send home, a shelter to build, hunting to see to. And then there were the mercenaries.

  Alyce Bunnock wasn’t his only reason for this mission. Cavan had gladly agreed to Angus Bunnock’s request for help once he learned that mercenaries frequented the area.

  Lachlan had come here to see if by any chance his brother Ronan was connected with them. He and his brothers Cavan and Artair had been searching two years now for their youngest brother, Ronan.

  Cavan and Ronan had been captured in a battle with a northern barbarian tribe. Soon after, they had been separated. Cavan had found his way home after a year of captivity. Ronan was still missing.

  Zia, Artair’s wife and a healer, had tended their brother. The most shocking part of that news was that Ronan had left Zia’s village, but where he had gone no one knew. They had been told by Zia’s grandmother that if they found the barbarian’s daughter Carissa, they would find their brother.

  The brothers all agreed that there had to be something that kept Ronan from returning home. Though they didn’t believe him chained or sequestered in a cell, somehow he remained a prisoner. But to whom?

  Lachlan hoped the band of mercenaries might have some knowledge about his brother. Cavan had made certain that Lachlan had enough coins on him to buy such information, or if he was lucky and Ronan was among them, he could buy his freedom.

  The warriors were aware of this and were prepared to battle if necessary to free Ronan. Lachlan’s one concern was the nuns. If things didn’t turn out well, they could suffer for his actions, which was a
nother reason he was sending a message to church officials. Surely when they discover only five survived these past five years and were living more as peasants than nuns, the church would recall them home.

  Besides, they should all be in the safety of a proper convent, clothed in proper garments. He couldn’t understand how they had survived, actually thrived, this long on their own. With claims of mercenaries in the area, how had these women avoided being attacked by them?

  He scratched his head, thinking there were many questions he needed answers to.

  Chapter 4

  Late that night the women once again sat around the table to discuss and plan.

  “Evan is attuned to the secrets of the woods. If we are not careful he will learn of our activities there,” Piper said.

  “He may be attuned to them, but you know the secrets. And you know how to cover our tracks,” Terese encouraged. “And with vigilance we can succeed.” She looked from one woman to another. “These men respect our status as nuns. We need to use that to our advantage.”

  “I agree,” Megan said. “It is that very status that has kept us safe so far, and when I informed the farmers of our situation, they were deeply concerned. They do not want us to leave here, and they eagerly offered their help.”

  “It is good to know we can count on them,” Hester said. “Good to know we have friends.”

  “That is all well and good, but what if the church recalls us home?” Rowena asked. “I, for one, have no plans of leaving this area. This is my home.”

  Each woman echoed the same sentiment.

  “I feel the same as all of you,” Terese said. “This is my home now and I don’t want to leave it, but as Rowena has suggested there is always that possibility. In fact, it is inevitable. This land belongs to the church, not us.”

  “Just as these men are temporary residents here, so are we,” Megan said.

  Hester was the first to say what all the sisters felt. “What we need is a permanent home.”

 

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