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The abbess found excuses to keep Eve at the convent for a full month more. Probably to punish Eve for her impertinence. Or perhaps in the hopes that Eve’s impulsive spirit might be tamed with several more weeks of thoughtful reflection.
Of course, Eve could have escaped at any time. She’d done it before. But if she was doomed to live a loveless life as a nun, she supposed she should accustom herself to the discipline and self-restraint the profession required. A few weeks wouldn’t make that much difference.
On the last day of her captivity, however, Eve was itching to leave. She bid the abbess a quick farewell and started out on foot just after Prime. She changed into her red gown in the woods and left her satchel with her habit behind a tree.
It was satisfying to have a Greater Purpose again. To be doing something more significant than laundering habits and polishing crucifixes. What she did today would change the course of history. She was helping mend a rift in the powerful Rivenloch clan.
Surely that was God’s plan.
And He’d chosen Eve to be a part of that plan.
At the moment, all the Rivenloch clan knew was that one of their own, Sir Hew du Lac, had stolen his cousin Gellir’s bride, Lady Carenza of Dunlop, intending to reunite her with her true love. What they didn’t know—what only Eve knew—was that Carenza’s rescuer was her true love.
Naturally, they also didn’t know what had become of Hew after his mission.
But Eve knew. She occasionally used the secluded byre herself as a safe haven.
From the outside, it appeared to be a rotting shed tucked into the deepest part of the forest and covered with vines.
But inside it was quite hospitable, clean and dry.
It was possible to live comfortably there for months.
Of course, they didn’t want to be there for months.
But since the abduction had arguably been a crime, they dreaded the shame it would bring upon their clans.
And since the marriage had been accomplished without the king’s approval, they feared Malcolm’s wrath.
Worse, they worried the king might dissolve their union.
Eve couldn’t help but smile as she sauntered through the woods, imagining their delight when she told them all was repaired and forgiven.
Now she could reveal to the couple what had happened in Perth. She could tell them Gellir had married his true love, Merraid. Merraid had been knighted by the king for her bravery, and she’d secured the king’s forgiveness of Hew and Carenza for their disobedience.
All would be set aright.
Eve took a deep breath. It was good to be out in the world again, smelling the summer flowers, feeling the warm breeze on her face and the spongy path beneath her feet, hearing the birdsong and…
She stopped.
She’d heard something behind her. The loud snap of a twig.
She turned. No one was there.
She slowly turned back and continued down the path. But this time her ears were attuned to every sound.
There it was again. The crack of a branch, as if a heavy boot stepped on it, followed by a shuffle of leaves.
This time she didn’t stop.
Someone was traveling behind her. Not on the path. Just off the road. Moving through the trees.
She kept her pace steady and began humming as she walked.
As she suspected, her air of nonchalance made her pursuer less guarded. His footfalls became careless, and she could tell he was growing closer.
Was he an outlaw?
It was likely. But she knew how to handle outlaws. She didn’t have her dagger, but she had her wits, which were almost as sharp.
Several moments passed. She got through seven verses of the song she was humming. Still he made no move to intercept her.
What were his intentions?
There was a large alehouse just around the bend. Smoke rose from the roof. A donkey and two mules were tied outside. She’d be safe inside.
She ducked under the sign of the broom above the alehouse entrance and pushed the door open. The interior was dark, but she could make out the figures of several travelers who were quenching their thirst at tables scattered about the room.
She quickly headed for a bench in the shadows.
A maid emerged from the kitchens. Eve flagged her down to take her order.
“An ale, please.”
Before she could receive her cup, the door opened to admit a new visitor.
The man immediately scanned the room. In the dark, his eyes skipped over her. Then he frowned and turned to hang up his cloak.
Was he the one who’d been following her?
She drew in a sharp breath when she saw the insignia on his tabard. It was a red lion rampant on a gold field. The king’s crest. This man was a royal guard.
Was he here for her?
Several dire possibilities raced through Eve’s mind.
Her part in Carenza’s abduction had been revealed.
Someone had discovered the silver she’d given to the outlaws was counterfeit.
She’d been accused of murdering the bairn who’d died in her arms.
The king had found out she possessed the stolen Rivenloch medallion.
Adam had reported her as a fugitive outlaw.
She shrank farther into the corner as the man settled himself at a bench beside the door, a spot where he could survey the whole room.
He looked fierce, just the sort of strong and ruthless bear of a man that a frail ruler like King Malcolm would use to enforce his commands.
“Here ye are, m’lady.”
Eve jumped, startled by the maid as she set a mazer of ale down on the table.
The action drew the man’s attention. When Eve swiftly lifted the cup to her lips, mostly to hide her face, his gaze followed her movements.
With two fingers, he summoned the maid. He motioned her close and murmured something in her ear. Eve was certain he was inquiring about her. The maid glanced her way and shook her head.
He stopped looking in her direction then. But Eve knew better than to assume he was no longer interested in her. He simply knew he no longer needed to keep his eye on her. She couldn’t go anywhere without him noticing. So he could dally over the ale.
What he’d asked the maid, she didn’t know. But she could almost always rely upon the sisterhood of women when she needed a quick escape.
She summoned the maid again and rose on shaky legs, feigning illness.
“Miss,” she gasped, “I fear I’m goin’ to be sick. Do ye have a chamberpot in the kitchens?”
“Och! Come with me then, m’lady.”
Eve didn’t look at him, but she felt the man at the door stiffen as the maid led her from the common room.
Once she passed into the kitchens, Eve turned to the maid with an urgent plea.
“Miss, that man at the door, the one in the king’s colors?” She grasped the maid’s sleeve. “He’s been followin’ me. I fear he’s after my virtue. Prithee let me out the back door.”
The maid’s mouth went round. She blinked in surprise. In that moment, Eve knew they’d found a womanly connection. The maid would usher her out the kitchen door now to escape into the woods.
But then the maid turned her head and screeched, “She’s tryin’ to get away, sir!”
So much for the sisterhood of women. Left no choice and begging God’s forgiveness, Eve bit out a curse and gave the maid a hard shove backwards toward the common room. The lass collided with the king’s man.
While they tussled, Eve scrambled for the back door, intentionally knocking a pot of pottage onto the floor behind her. She turned once at the door, just in time to see the guard go sprawling in the slippery mess.
Then she tore away from the alehouse. She sprinted down the main road, getting some distance on her pursuer before ducking into the shelter of the trees.
Fortunately, the byre wasn’t far off. But one had to know the way. The king’s man from Perth would get lost in the dense woods before he ever found it. Or her.
It was familiar landscape to Eve, however, so she stopped a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the trunk of a pine.
Now that she had time to reflect, she realized how much she’d missed this. Narrow escapes. Subterfuge. Quick thinking.
It made her feel alive.
She couldn’t believe that wicked maid at the alehouse had turned her in at the first opportunity. Still Eve had managed to escape. She had to grin. Watching the fierce guard slide through the pottage like an otter on ice had been entertaining.
“Och, Eve,” she scolded. “Shame on ye.”
That wasn’t the way for a nun to behave.
Perhaps she wasn’t fit to be a nun.
Still, she wasn’t exactly an outlaw. No matter what the king’s guard thought.
She wanted to do good. It was just more fun doing good when her heart was beating fast.
When she reached her destination, her interaction with the exiled Rivenloch couple was hurried. With the king’s man tracking her, she didn’t dare linger.
She was impressed with what they’d done with the byre. Love had turned the hovel into a home. And Hew had turned Carenza into a glowing mother-to-be.
Eve experienced a wee twinge of envy over their contentment as a couple. Painful memories flashed through her mind. Adam’s kiss. His gaze. His smile. His touch.
But she didn’t let it show. She couldn’t let anything—even a royal guard on her trail—diminish their happiness.
She told them what had happened since they’d become fugitives. That King Malcolm had returned to Scotland. That there had been a brief siege by some of the lairds at Perth, but peace had been made.
She gave them the good news that they were forgiven by the clan and shocked them with the fact that the king had knighted the maidservant Merraid and then married her to Gellir.
She said they could go home safely now.
Hew, however, was a Rivenloch through and through. He wouldn’t accept anything that wasn’t properly executed. So he tasked Eve with getting their wedding document officially signed by the clan lairds of Rivenloch and Dunlop and sealed by the king. Only then, he said, would he feel safe to return.
She agreed, but warned him it might take time.
First, however, she had to make it back to the convent.
Table of Contents
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- Page 35 (Reading here)
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