Page 11

For an instant, Eve felt like Lot’s wife. Unable to resist temptation, she’d peeked at him and been turned into a petrified pillar of salt. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe.

With a brief smile, he lifted her hand in his with care, as if he cradled a baby dove. Where their skin met, she felt a warm tingling, like the healing rays of the sun.

Then he lowered his eyes and his head. He pressed soft lips against her knuckles. His breath curled between her fingers, stirring her spirit.

“Sleep well, m’lady,” he whispered.

He was gone before she could even draw breath.

But she feared his image—his penetrating eyes, his determined jaw, his gentle smile—would be with her forever.

The touch of his hand and his lips were branded on her flesh as permanently as the marks on cattle.

And the thoughts that swirled through her head would not fade any time soon.

Indeed, it took her a long while to fall asleep. When she did, her dreams featured Adam in all his various manifestations. As a half-blind beggar. As a man of the cloth. As a noble knight. As a hunter of outlaws.

She was drawn to them all in her dream. But whenever she’d get too close to one of them, the abbess would block Eve with a scowl and a stern warning.

By the time Eve awoke the next morn, she was exhausted from battling both the abbess and her own carnal urges.

It wasn’t quite dawn when she slipped from the lovely goose-down bed and into her scarlet gown. Leaving early was a good way to avoid having to bid another fraught farewell to Adam. And arriving early at the priory was the best way to secure an audience with Prior Isaac.

She stole downstairs before the proprietor was awake and crept past the men dozing by the banked fire. One of them was Adam, she knew. But she didn’t dare peer close to see which one.

She let herself out the door of the inn with practiced stealth and proceeded along the road to the priory. The morn was yet young. But the arriving sunlight already softened the black night to pale gray. The air was chill, but her brisk pace would keep her warm until she reached her destination.

When she finally arrived outside Scone Priory, she extracted a small silk purse from her satchel, tucked the silver cross inside it, and hid the satchel behind a boulder at the edge of the wood, covering it with leaves.

Just like nuns, monks kept early hours. When she emerged from the forest, the priory was already buzzing with activity.

Monastery security was not what it was for a convent of nuns.

Though there were guards, monks freely entered and exited the gates.

And aside from a few unruly young oblates who ogled Eve with open awe, she was allowed to pass with little notice.

After all, it would have been unseemly for a monk to let his gaze dwell on a woman.

As she expected, Prior Isaac, upon hearing her title and glimpsing her jewels, was quite willing to set aside his other business and answer her request for an audience. Fortunately, he didn’t recall her as the nun who had burned down half the priory the previous year.

“Your generosity is most welcome, m’lady,” Prior Isaac said, gazing down at the silver cross.

By the gleam in his eye, she half wondered if he meant to melt the cross down and keep the silver for himself.

But his sins weren’t hers to govern. She’d done her part. She’d repaid the priory for the damages.

Still, as long as she was here, and as long as he didn’t remember her face, it wouldn’t hurt to put in a request for the nunnery. It was a risky move. But she’d learned without risk, there was no reward.

“Ye know, Prior, there’s a wee convent to the west near Mauchline. My cousin is the abbess there. If ye have half-burned books ye no longer need, I know she’d be grateful for one or two.”

“Books? Indeed, if ye don’t mind blackened chapters and ashes betwixt the pages. I’ll send them forthwith.”

Eve didn’t have to feign her smile of gratitude.

For a long while she’d bemoaned the lack of interesting books at the convent.

The other sisters seemed to be content with one Bible and a few histories of the Saints.

But how much more exciting were the kinds of books Scone Priory had—bestiaries and treatises on medicine and agriculture.

Eve could hardly keep the spring out of her step as she crossed the cloister to leave.

This was what she loved. Her Greater Purpose.

Not only had she repaid the priory. But she’d achieved what she’d failed to do at her last visit.

Procured books for the convent. Books that would enlighten her dear sisters.

Indeed, so self-involved with delight was she, she almost didn’t notice the monk lingering near the fountain in the midst of the cloister yard.

His head was covered by a brown hood. His shoulders were draped by a brown scapula. His belted cassock was brown and nondescript. To any other eye, he was simply one of a dozen faceless monks inhabiting the cloister.

But she knew instantly it was Adam.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

What was he doing here? Why was he dressed like a monk? Was he spying on her? How had he gotten here so fast? Had he followed her?

Her joy soured into anxiety.

On her own, she felt confident, sure of herself, able to take control even when things went awry.

But with Adam here…

He could easily undermine her efforts. Reveal her duality. Add peril to her mission. And endanger himself in the process.

She had to get him out of here.

“Ssss!” she hissed sharply, keeping her eyes trained ahead, but slowing her step as she passed. “Adam!”

Adam frowned in disbelief.

How the Devil had she recognized him?

He was completely concealed from head to toe. Not an inch of his face was visible. Not even his own mother would have known him.

“What are ye…?” she rasped out between her teeth, stopping and pretending to admire the fountain, but too vexed to even finish her sentence. “Begone. Now.”

“How did ye know ’twas me?” he asked in wonder.

He lifted his hand to peel back his hood. After all, there was no need to hide now.

Her eyes widened as she whispered, “Nay! Don’t!” Her fingers tightened on the stone edge of the fountain.

He froze. What was wrong with her?

Staring into the water intensely enough to boil it, she muttered, “Why did ye follow me?”

He answered with the truth. “I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

Following her had seemed a good idea at the time. Now he wasn’t so sure. She seemed very upset.

After a split-second of indecision, she said, “Follow me,” and turned on her heel toward the gates.

He gave his head a shake, wishing she would make up her mind. Then he started off after her.

“Not so close!” she hissed over her shoulder.

This was ridiculous. He reached for her arm to halt her. “Will ye explain to me what’s goin’ on?”

Her brow creased with worry. “Ye wouldn’t understand.”

She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he held tight. If something was troubling her, he wanted to help.

“Try me,” he said.

“There’s no time,” she bit out. “Just…shoo.” This time she managed to pull away.

He snatched the back of her gold girdle, hauling her up short.

“I can help ye,” he explained.

“Ye can help me,” she mumbled, straining against the girdle, “by lettin’ go o’ me.”

He did.

She would have fallen forward, so hard was she pulling against his grip. But he quickly caught her about the waist to steady her.

“Hold there!” bellowed a voice behind him. “Unhand the lady!”

Adam released her and turned to face Aillenn’s champion.

His heart plunged to the pit of his stomach.

It was the prior himself.

And this looked very bad.

Before he could explain, the prior shouted, “Guards!” to summon two strapping monks posted at the gates.

He tried to explain. “I meant no—”

“Seize him!” the prior ordered.

Adam could have fought his way free. He was fast and agile. He could have run past them all and left them in the dust. But he didn’t want to abandon Aillenn, who was clearly upset about something.

Besides, there was no point in resisting or trying to explain.

In the prior’s eyes, Adam was a monk who’d laid hands upon a lady.

A lady who, if he’d guessed correctly, had just made a very generous donation to the priory.

If Adam had been in the prior’s place, he would have made the same assumption.

Eventually, Adam would straighten things out. Meanwhile, it would serve no purpose to antagonize the guards or the prior. So he allowed them to seize him.

“Take him to an empty cell,” the prior growled.

As they lugged him away, behind him, he heard the prior speaking to Aillenn. “I must apologize, m’lady, for my monk’s inexcusable behavior. I assure ye ’twill be punished. But ye’re shakin’ like a leaf. Did he harm ye?”

“’Tis only shock,” she said.

“O’ course,” he said. “Well, make no mistake. I’ll be sure the sinner pays for what he’s done.”

Just before Adam was dragged out of range, he overheard the lady’s parting words. Her cold dismissal soured his stomach and sank his heart.

“My thanks, prior,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”

It took every bit of Eve’s willpower to put one foot in front of the other and abandon Adam at the priory.

She knew he’d meant nothing by his actions. He was only concerned for her welfare and didn’t realize he was becoming so physical. She’d done similar things herself, trying to make a point.

But to the uninformed eye, Adam appeared to be an errant monk accosting a lady. And she could think of no alternative explanation for what the prior had witnessed. Not one that he’d believe.

Could she say the monk’s hands had somehow become innocently tangled in her girdle?

That he’d been practicing for an upcoming mystery play?

Or demonstrating a wrestling match he’d seen at the fair?

It all sounded absurd. Nay, she had to walk away. She had to come up with an alternative plan to get him out of this. And an alternative persona to pull it off.