Page 25 of The Highlander’s Virgin Nun (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

T he Scottish midlands were almost silent for the entire journey, the only sound being the clip-clop of his horse’s hooves. Caelan knew Jayden and his other men were following him at different distances, but even he could not sense them as they moved under perfect cover.

He had already passed through the clearing where he had first met his wife. It had been the perfect spot to assassinate him, but no such attack came now. He almost slowed down, in case he missed it, but he knew he could not stir any suspicion in case someone was watching.

And so he continued towards the Abbey.

He had intended to come here after he captured more attackers, but if they had yet to come, he might as well make his cover story a reality. Miller trotted on until they reached a copse of trees a few meters from the Abbey.

Under the cover of trees and the night sky, he dismounted, and after a few moments, he called out quietly, “Jayden.”

Another few moments of silence passed, and then he heard twigs snapping underfoot. He only had to wait a minute for Jayden to emerge from the darkness.

“Nothin’,” he sighed. He saw the frustration in Jayden’s tight jaw and furrowed brow. “Nothin’. I didnae hear or see a thing.”

“Neither did we. None of the men did. We spread out after a while, but we heard nothin’ in any direction.”

“Typical.” Caelan scowled.

“Do ye think they’re on to us?”

“Nay. They have never been discreet. I have won each time because these men have nay stealth. I dinnae think they have suddenly developed the ability to go unseen.”

“What should we do then, Me Laird?”

Caelan took a moment to think. He leaned back against the tree to which he had tied Miller’s harness. He rubbed his temples with his fingers and considered his options.

“We cannae force an attack if there is nay one around to attack us. We are at the Abbey now. Let’s at least settle this matter.”

“Are we really goin’ to battle nuns, Caelan?”

He laughed. “Nay. They are horrible women capable of torture, but nay. I dinnae intend to drive me dirk through a nun’s habit. We are goin’ to investigate. I want to catch them torturin’ girls, and I want ye to witness it. Then, I’m goin’ to force me way in and show them what they should be afraid of.”

Jayden, although not looking entirely convinced of the plan, nodded. “Shall I tell the men to take cover and rest for the evenin’, then come and join ye at the perimeter?”

“Aye,” Caelan replied.

Jayden jogged off to relay the plan, and Caelan awaited his return. He had to calm himself. He was about to see what Rosaline had gone through all those years. He dreaded seeing another girl, just like her, in there and going through the same horrors that she had. He knew that he would picture her enduring such torture right away.

He had to keep his composure.

“Ready, Me Laird?”

Jayden had shed his heavy armor. He had a small sword at his waist and a knife in his sock. Caelan removed his armor too, deeming it too much for a visit to a convent, and took off.

They walked around the convent walls until they found the entrance. It was guarded by two large men, armed and strong. He could have likely thought up a way to subdue them, but he was looking for more cover than that.

Crouching, he indicated with a hand over his head that they should go the other way.

They snuck around the wall until they found what he was looking for—a tree close enough to the wall with an overhanging branch. He began to climb it, and Jayden followed without question.

It took them mere minutes to reach the overhang and drop down into the convent courtyard. From there, they stuck close to the walls, staying low and peering into every window they could reach.

“See anythin’?” Caelan asked.

Jayden was a foot taller than him, so he managed to peer into the first window best. “A nun prayin’. Exactly what ye’d expect.”

He almost chuckled, and Caelan rolled his eyes. “Keep goin’.”

They continued on, reaching more windows and gathering more information. While most rooms were empty, many had a single candle lit inside, giving Caelan a mental map of the lower floor. He saw a few nuns praying, tidying, and reading, but not a single room contained enough nuns for him to ascertain the sort of treatment they received here. Still, they carried on.

“Got it,” Jayden whispered suddenly, a hint of triumph in his tone.

Caelan scurried over and peered through the same window.

They were staring into the kitchen—a large room filled with benches, pots, utensils, and a large table laden with meat and vegetables. Two young women worked side by side. They were as skinny as Rosaline had been when he had first met her, wearing similar tattered and dirty rags. Their cheekbones were sunken, and Caelan could swear he saw a purple bruise around one of the girls’ eyes. He took in their appearances, looking for any more signs of cruelty, when the kitchen door flew open.

“What is takin’ ye so long?” the voice of a tall, old nun boomed as she walked in. The thick, old glass should have muffled her voice, and yet such yelling drifted to Caelan and Jayden’s ears. “Ye have been at this for hours now!”

The girls flinched at the reprimand, their shoulders darting up to protect their bare necks, their eyes widening with fear.

“It will be ready in a moment,” one of the girls said.

Her voice was barely audible, but Caelan had a clear view of her face, so he read her lips.

“A moment too late, as usual,” the old nun barked, grabbing her by the ears and yanking her away from her work.

The other girl kept her head lowered, forcing herself to focus on cooking and chopping vegetables. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from looking at her companion as the nun began to hit her.

“Maybe a little motivation will make ye move faster!” the nun yelled, slapping the girl across the face with the back of her hand.

The sound of the impact also traveled through the thick glass, and Caelan grew enraged. He turned to Jayden, his body itching for violence.

“Break it.”

“What, Me Laird?”

“Break the window.”

Jayden hesitated for a moment, but when they heard another smack , he jumped up. He used the pommel of his sword to smash the glass pane in the middle, and he punched his hand through to grab the inside latch and flip it open.

Caelan leaped up, placed his hands on the sill, and swung his legs up and through the opening, landing in the kitchen in a mere second.

All three women had leaped back in shock, but the old nun had grabbed her victim by the shoulders and yanked her body in front of her own. The two girls looked terrified, but not any more than they already had. As Jayden clambered through behind him and brandished his knife, the old nun turned to shout.

“Nae so fast,” Caelan warned.

“Who in God’s name are ye? This is a holy house!” the nun scoffed, attempting to sound appalled, but her fear showed through.

“What I see here is far from holy, Sister, and what ye just did to these two poor lasses arenae even half of it.”

“What do ye mean? Who the hell are ye?” she demanded.

“It isnae who I am that matters, Sister, but who I could tell.”

Caelan moved forward suddenly, scaring the nun until her hands released the girl and instead moved to shield her own body. Caelan grabbed the girl by the arms and pushed her behind him. Jayden did the same with the other.

As he did so, Caelan tried to convey with his eyes that he meant her no harm. But he knew the girl would have a hard time trusting him, just as Rosaline had. His priority for now was to keep them safe , not calm.

“I have seen what ye did to these two girls, and so has me man here. That makes four witnesses to yer cruelty. I can call on at least two more girls who had escaped yer torture. I dinnae think the Bishop will take kindly to yer savage ways. Do ye, Sister?”

The nun’s face contorted in a mix of shock and disgust. Caelan could tell that she was not used to being threatened. She was not used to getting anything other than her own way, and he somewhat reveled in being the first to show her.

“Who sent ye?” she growled, her voice lower now but her hackles still raised.

“I brought meself, Sister, and I’ll be takin’ meself and me five witnesses straight to the Bishop and the council afterward if ye dinnae do as I say.”

The woman stood tall, her chin jutted, but the fear would not leave her eyes. Her lower lip almost wobbled, and she bit it hard. He took her silence as an indication to state his conditions.

“These girls are goin’ to leave this establishment with me tonight. If they have homes to go to, we will escort them there. If nae, they can come to work in me castle for food, board, and money.”

He paused, turning to the girls to check whether they agreed to his conditions. He found them gaping at the nun, still cowering away from her.

Realizing he was awaiting their approval, they quickly nodded, their eyes wide as saucers.

Caelan turned back to the nun. “If ye have any more hostages here, ye will hand them over too. Ye willnae take in any more girls, as ye cannae be trusted to care for them. If I ever find out that ye have taken in more—and by God I will find out, Sister—I will tell the Bishop of yer crimes, and he will strip ye of yer title and habit. The council will put ye in jail, and I shall burn this godforsaken convent to the ground.”

The nun’s eyes flashed with fury, but she voiced no protest. She knew she was cornered.

“Understood, Mother Denise?”

It was a guess, but as time had gone on and her authority shone through, Caelan was fairly sure his assumption was correct, going by Rosaline’s description of the woman.

The shock on her face confirmed his suspicion.

Eventually, she nodded.

“Do ye have any more slaves here?”

“Nay,” she croaked.

But Caelan turned to the girls for confirmation anyway.

“Nay,” they echoed.

“Good. Then I will be out of here with these two. And since I dinnae live far, Mother Denise, I will send a patrol here every week so I can monitor yer devilish ways. If ye feel guilt, I will ken about it. Do ye understand?”

Mother Denise had to force the word out like vomit, squeezing it up her gullet, but she managed it.

“Aye.”

Caelan turned to Jayden and silently instructed him to help the girls climb out the window. He gave the nun one final glare and turned to leave, but not before catching her devastation as her villainous world crashed down around her.

* * *

Once they had gotten the girls safely up the tree and over the wall, Caelan took the time to reassure them. They were shivering, cowering, afraid of what would happen to them.

“I promise ye are safe. We willnae hurt ye,” he said.

But he could see how much these girls had been betrayed. Their fear was not ebbing.

He would need to try harder.

“Me wife is from this Abbey. I found her in these woods—she was tryin’ to escape. Her name is Rosaline.”

At that, the girls looked at one another, their eyes filled with tears.

“Ye ken her?”

“We didnae really ken her,” the one who had been hit squeaked. “They kept us separated, mostly, so that we couldnae conspire against them. We were only together because they needed two for dinner preparations. They like it made fast. But we saw her in passin’. We heard of her. Is she all right?”

“Aye. I am goin’ to take ye to safety in the mornin’. Tonight, we’ll stay in a camp nearby, where ye will be safe. We will get ye some furs and food.”

The girls nodded, holding each other close for reassurance, and he turned to walk them back to the camp.

The four of them made their way through the forest in the pitch black. They had to move slowly, as the girls were frail and sore. Jayden and Caelan kept an eye out for anything that might trip them up and lifted them over any fallen trees or rocks, not wanting them to waste their energy.

“What was that?” Jayden asked suddenly, his head jerking to the side farthest away from the Abbey.

Caelan had not heard a thing, but he did not dare ask. Instead, he stopped breathing, silencing everything he could in order to hear what he could not.

Breathing .

It was deep, with a grunt behind it—masculine. It was not his own, and he had trained Jayden to hold his breath when listening, so it was not his either. Then, he heard movement. Not a step, but a rebalancing of weight, enough to shift the ground beneath it. His head turned in the direction of the noise, and he could just about make out two spots of light in the pitch black.

Eyes.

“Get down!” Jayden yelled.

Caelan quickly ducked, pushed the girls’ heads down, and hauled them behind the nearest tree. Jayden drew his sword and knife, a weapon in each hand, as three men emerged from the trees ahead and charged towards them, their blades drawn. At the same time, arrows flew overhead, coming from attackers beyond, unseen.

Jayden quickly dodged the first man’s swing and slashed his shins deep enough to cripple him, but not deep enough to make him bleed out. He was thinking smart. He was keeping his cool and sticking to the plan. They were going to keep these men alive.

Caelan grabbed a rock and threw it behind him. He could tell from the angle of the arrows that the archers were too far away to see them properly in the dark. They had no idea where they were shooting.

The arrows arced higher as the rock landed ten feet away, missing their heads entirely.

“Stay put,” he instructed the girls quietly as he snuck out from behind the tree and stepped up to Jayden’s right.

The second man charged with more conviction, aiming calculated, well-paced jabs at Jayden. The man-at-arms was good. He dodged every swing, but he was not fast enough to retaliate.

Caelan came in low from the side, completely unseen, with only the small dagger in his sock. He punched the man in the head, unable to find a spot to stab that would not bleed out, and knocked him out clean.

As the third man lunged at them, two swords in hand, Caelan and Jayden exchanged a glance in the split second they had and nodded to each other. As the man swung his swords, they raised their arms as if to hit back. But at the last moment, they ducked under both swords, grabbed the man by the legs, and tossed him backward. His head hit the ground with a thud, knocking him out.

Quickly, Caelan flattened himself to the ground and bellowed, “We have all three of them trapped! If ye were better fighters, they’d have sent ye first! Surrender and retreat, or we’ll slay ye here! We only need a few of ye alive!”

They waited with bated breath to see if the archers would heed their threat. As the last arrow dropped to the ground, and not another followed, it seemed they did.