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She was Eve MacAnndra. Merchant’s daughter. Outlaw. Irish noblewoman. Archery champion. She straightened her spine. “M’laird.”

“The sister seems to have some business with you, Ma,” Isabel said.

“Is that so?”

“Aye, m’laird,” Eve said, presenting the scroll.

Deirdre looked at it, but was in no hurry to take it. “What is it?”

“’Tis a marriage document.”

Beside her, Isabel let out a gushing sigh. “I knew it! I knew it had to be something romantic!”

Ian growled and rolled his eyes. He clearly didn’t share his sister’s love of romance.

Deirdre was more practical. “A marriage document between whom?”

Eve took a deep breath and forced herself to hold the laird’s gaze. “’Tis an agreement between Lady Carenza o’ Dunlop and…Sir Hew du Lac o’ Rivenloch.”

Isabel let out a squeal of delight.

Deirdre’s face turned to ice. “Agreed to by whom? By them?”

The laird had likely had enough of her offspring marrying whomever they willed. After all, even her own marriage had been arranged.

Of course, Eve knew the story. Everyone did. Lady Deirdre had tricked the bridegroom into wedding her instead of her sister. So in a way, she’d chosen her own husband as well.

Isabel intervened. “Would that be so bad, Ma? You let Gellir marry his ladylove.”

“Let?” Deirdre bit out. “Gellir was betrothed to Carenza.”

“But she didn’t love him, Ma,” Isabel said. “You know that. And he had no feelings for her.”

Deirdre’s response was a low growl that sounded a lot like Ian’s.

“’Tis a perfect match,” Isabel said. “Everyone loves Carenza, and she’ll ne’er break Hew’s heart.”

In light of Deirdre’s continued glower, Eve decided to disclose, “King Malcolm has already approved the marriage, m’laird. It requires only your mark and that o’ the Laird o’ Dunlop.”

Isabel clapped her hands together rapidly with excitement. “Another wedding!”

“Let me see,” Deirdre said, taking the scroll and scanning it.

Isabel grabbed Eve’s arm and squeezed it, biting her lip as she awaited the good news.

Finally Deirdre sighed. “Fine. It seems to be in order. I’ll sign it. But first, I want to know how you ended up being the bearer of such news.”

Eve was afraid of that. Now she would have to disclose the whole story and hope her nun’s habit would protect her from the laird’s wrath.

While Deirdre listened in stony silence, punctuated by Isabel’s gasps of wonder, Eve said she was a close friend of Hew’s. Hew and Carenza had fallen in love and were both heartsick when Carenza was betrothed to Gellir. Hew requested that Eve escort Carenza away from her wedding to meet with Hew.

“Escort?” Deirdre asked with a raised brow. “Or abduct?”

Eve blushed.

Deirdre continued, “Was she taken against her will?”

Louder than she intended, Eve replied, “Nay! I would ne’er do such a thing.”

“And where are they now?”

“I can’t say,” Eve said, lowering her eyes. “I vowed I would not.”

Deirdre didn’t like that answer. She looked daggers at Eve. “Are they safe?”

“Aye,” Eve was quick to assure her. “They haven’t been apart. Hew has watched o’er her since that day.”

Deirdre scowled. “That was months ago.”

Eve nodded.

But what she thought was reassurance triggered something very different in Deirdre. “She’s likely with child now then.”

Eve gulped.

Deirdre cursed under her breath. Then she muttered, “What kind of nun gets embroiled in this sort of mischief?”

Isabel cooed, as if this was exactly the kind of entertaining exchange she enjoyed.

Eve, however, was getting more and more agitated. It seemed the laird was missing the point. What did it matter how the deed was accomplished? She had the document in her hands, and it was approved by the king.

Deirdre narrowed her eyes. “Are you even a real nun?”

“O’ course I’m a real nun,” Eve snapped in a tone that wasn’t the least bit nun-like.

Isabel drew in an exaggerated gasp. “You aren’t that nun, are you?”

Ian looked up to interject, “What nun?”

“The nun Hew tried to court,” Isabel told him.

Eve’s cheeks flushed hot.

“You are,” Isabel confirmed with delight. “She is.”

“That was an honest mistake,” Eve muttered. “I wasn’t wearin’ my habit at the time.”

Deirdre’s brows rose at that.

“Nay,” Eve quickly corrected, “I mean, I wasn’t wearin’ my habit, because I was wearin’ a gown.”

“So are you a nun or not?” Deirdre asked.

Eve grimaced. “Sometimes.”

Deirdre’s brow darkened.

Isabel giggled. “Och! She’s a master o’ disguise, isn’t she? Just like Adam.”

“What?” Eve felt all the air empty her lungs. Surely she’d heard wrong. “What did ye say?”

“My cousin Adam. One day he’s a monk. The next he’s a warrior. Once, at Darragh, he feigned to be a rat-catcher. He’s such a talent. He can make himself nigh invisible.”

Eve’s head was spinning. She’d somehow hoped Adam was some obscure and distant Rivenloch relative the laird barely knew.

“Are you all right?” Deirdre asked in concern. “Ian, give her your stool.”

He brought the stool, and Deirdre helped her to sit. “And bring her a cup of water. Isabel, stay here with her. I’m going to fetch the scribe.”

When Deirdre was gone, Eve dared to ask Isabel, “Adam is the laird’s nephew?”

“Aye.”

“And do ye know where is he now?” She hoped he hadn’t returned to Rivenloch.

“No one e’er knows,” she said, “though the real question is who is he now?”

Ian brought the cup of water, and she took a long drink.

Isabel asked, “Why are you so interested in Adam?”

Eve choked on the water.

Before she could answer, Isabel made her own guess. “Och! Have you met him? If you know Hew, maybe you’ve crossed paths with Adam?”

The water made a long, cold path into the pit of Eve’s stomach.

Isabel continued. “With him being a sometimes monk, and you being a sometimes nun…”

Isabel stared at her now, and Eve got the feeling she had some gift of sight that let her peer into a person’s soul.

“You do know him, don’t you?” she marveled. “You know him. And you care for him.”

Eve blanched. Was it written so plainly on her face?

Ian scoffed. “Not everyone is in love, Isabel.”

“But she is,” Isabel. “Aren’t you?”

“I’m a nun,” she said stiffly. “I cannot love any man.”

“And yet you do.” Isabel’s voice was full of a sympathy so wistful, it nearly brought Eve to tears.

Deirdre rushed up, followed by a scribe.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

Eve nodded. But she wasn’t feeling better. She was more miserable than ever.

Deirdre nodded. “Then you may return to…” She waved her hand. “Whatever convent allows its nuns to do such mischief. I plan to deliver this myself. I only pray I’m not too late.”

It hadn’t occurred to Eve that the marriage needed to be secured before a bairn was born. But of course it made sense. The laird couldn’t have a Rivenloch heir considered illegitimate.

She trusted Laird Deirdre would do the right thing and secure Dunlop’s seal.

Now all she wanted was to hurry home. The siege was imminent. And safe behind convent walls, maybe she could forget all the foolish things she’d said and done in front of Adam.

She was sure his clan would never forget her. This would make her the laughingstock of Rivenloch.

She’d accidentally beguiled Hew of Rivenloch.

Stolen Gellir of Rivenloch’s bride.

And swived Adam of Rivenloch.

Now that her task was finished, she prayed she’d never see a Rivenloch again.