Page 29

It was a distraction. But was that so bad? Now, even worse than creating a lifetime of insatiable thirst for pleasure of the flesh, her heart ached as she realized a terrible truth.

She loved Adam.

Of course she would miss his kiss, his touch, his body.

Eventually, she supposed that longing would fade. She would forget how his smile quickened her pulse. How his glance heated her blood. How the brush of his fingers inflamed her senses.

But his companionship? Without that, she was going to be absolutely bereft.

Without his wit, his laughter, his passion, her life would be dull. Meaningless. Empty.

It had taken only a few days. But it was enough. Her heart belonged to him.

The tears welled in her eyes, blurring the trees lining the path. But she could hear the trickle of a burn ahead where she could get a drink of water and wash her face.

She dared not linger, of course. She knew he would try to follow her. And he would have the advantage of being on horseback.

But he’d been sleeping peacefully when she left. At least she supposed he was at peace. Though she had to wonder how that was possible when he snored like an ox.

Her lips curved into a trembling smile. The fond memory made her eyes fill even more.

She stopped beside the burn, setting aside her satchel. Then she hunkered down to splash her face with the bracing water.

With her eyes squeezed closed, she groped for the satchel, intending to use the linen rag she kept on top to dry her face. It wasn’t there. Instead, she felt something made of leather, a bit of knobby fabric, a pair of scissors.

She frowned. Then she remembered Adam had dumped out the contents rather haphazardly yesterday to search for her mint. He’d probably been just as careless returning them to her satchel.

She opened one eyelid to take a better look.

Then both eyes flew open.

It wasn’t her satchel.

It was Adam’s.

In the dark, she must have picked up the wrong one.

“Shite,” she hissed, forgetting for a moment she was dressed as Sister Eve.

Now what would she do?

Patting her face dry on her veil, she considered her options.

She couldn’t go back to exchange the satchels. He’d surely be up and about by now.

But what would he think when he found she’d taken his belongings?

She sighed. She didn’t mind being thought of as an imposter. But she didn’t like being considered a thief.

“Bloody hell.”

This would only hasten his pursuit of her, no matter what her note said.

For now she had a few advantages. She’d left hours ago. And he didn’t know where she was headed. But he could make up for lost time and guess her direction. She’d have to be looking over her shoulder all the way to her next place of refuge, the convent near Cumbernauld.

Scrambling back onto the road, she easily felt the difference now. His satchel was much larger, heavier, full of things that rattled. How had she not noticed that before?

As she barreled along the path, it occurred to her that without her satchel she was missing the tools of her survival and the tricks of her trade. Without her lady’s gown and her archer’s garb, her maidservant’s rags and her monk’s robe, her false beards and her faux blonde hair, who was she?

Apparently, she was stuck as Sister Eve. Nothing more. She found that idea surprisingly distasteful and disappointing.

Then she began to wonder exactly what was in Adam’s satchel. There was no time to look now. But he’d told her the contents were a source of fascination among his clan. Her curiosity was definitely piqued.

She passed several travelers along the way, but thankfully, no outlaws. No outlaws except for Eve, who was apparently a genuine thief now.

After a long day of travel, not daring to stop for food, she was relieved to arrive in time for dinner at the convent.

She was also relieved to have avoided interception by Adam.

At least she told herself she was relieved.

Still, there might have been a wee bit of disappointment mixed into her feelings.

That disappointment was sharpened when she retreated to her cell after dinner and opened the satchel.

It smelled like him. Leather. Chain mail. Spice. Soap.

The scent wafted over her like a cloud of yearning.

She reached into the satchel with timid hands, as if she trespassed into his secret world.

She pulled out a garment of pale linen and held it up to her face, inhaling the freshly laundered smell, hoping for a trace of Adam’s essence. Then she held it up in the candlelight.

With a startled gasp, she dropped it again.

Braies.

She stared down at the undergarment, lying like a pale flounder on the pallet.

She stifled a giggle.

Was this a spare garment? Or was Adam walking around with no braies? Had he been compelled to ride on a horse without his braies?

This suddenly struck Eve as terribly amusing. And when she thought about what she’d left behind in her satchel, it became even more hilarious.

Would he have to resort to wearing her leine? Her stockings? Her gowns?

The image of Adam stuffed into her scarlet velvet made her burst into laughter.

“Are ye all right, Sister?” someone called from the cell next door.

“Oh aye, fine.”

But she couldn’t get the grin off her face as she imagined his disgust at what she’d left him.

Eve, on the other hand, found his satchel a treasure trove of possibilities. There were useful tools, exotic weapons, leines and robes, belts and pieces of armor, assorted beards and boots, bottles and casks.

She fell asleep with the gleam of adventure in her eyes and the pair of linen braies nestled against her cheek.