The Angel and the Highlander Page 5

  “Aye, that we are, and I can offer you my protection if you will have it.”

  Tears stained her soft blue eyes, and she fought bravely not to let them spill. “Truly, you can?”

  “I give you my word as a Sinclare warrior,” Lachlan said strongly.

  “Will you offer the same to my brother?” she asked, her bottom lip quivering.

  “I will protect both of you with my life,” Lachlan said.

  The little girl threw herself into his arms and wept.

  Lachlan wrapped a firm arm around her, stood and held out his hand to the lad.

  “We are grateful, sir,” the lad said then took his hand.

  Piper sniffed back tears, Rowena let hers fall, and Hester smiled through tear-stained eyes. Megan remained her stoic self and they all walked to the common shelter.

  “Food,” the lad said with desperation when he spied the table with nearly empty platters.

  “I think it would do well if we feed them all before seeing to their care,” Terese said and nodded to Hester and Rowena to bring more food.

  As they settled the four at the table, Terese heard Lachlan whisper orders to Boyd.

  “Take some men and check the area for others or for trouble,” he ordered, sending Evan as well.

  Terese looked to Piper and she took off, though not in the same direction as Evan.

  The little girl sat on Lachlan’s lap while she ate; grabbing hold of his hand every now and again as if to make certain he was still there.

  While the children and two adults ate their fill, Terese and Lachlan talked with them. The other women prepared to tend them and provide them with fresh clothes.

  “I am Beatrice and my brother is Harry,” the little girl informed them.

  The older woman was Frances and the man Henry.

  Beatrice glowed when Megan handed her a sweet cake. She was about to tear it in two to share with her brother when Megan handed him one.

  “All for me?” Beatrice asked with wide eyes.

  “All for you,” Megan assured her.

  Beatrice said no more, too busy enjoying her treat.

  It wasn’t until the children went inside the common shelter, Lachlan having had to walk Beatrice in and promise her she would be safe, and that he would be right outside, that Terese and he spoke freely with Frances and Henry.

  “Once the sisters are done with the children, they will tend you both,” Terese said. “At the moment, however, we’d like to know what happened to all of you?”

  Henry explained. “Frances and I found each other along the road in the wake of two warring clans. They’re taking food and whatever else they need from the farmers while they wage their war.” He wiped tears from his eyes. “I lost my wife.”

  “I, my husband of thirty years,” Frances said sorrowfully.

  “I’m so sorry for your losses, but I must ask, does the fighting spill past the boundaries?” Lachlan asked.

  Henry shrugged. “They’d have to make it past the mercenaries.”

  Lachlan leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a band of mercenaries who are making their presence known in the area,” Henry said. “From what’s been heard they’re fierce warriors and claim what they will. It’s really what started the clans to warring.”

  “How so?” Lachlan asked.

  “One thought the other hired the violent band to help conquer.” Henry shook his head. “But it was the clan leaders’ fears and hatred for each other that provoked the start of it all and then…” He shrugged again.

  “It escalated out of control,” Lachlan said knowingly.

  “Now the mercenaries sit by and wait,” Henry said.

  Frances nodded in agreement. “And then they will finish it all and our lands will be forever lost to us.”

  Night settled over the land. The children had long fallen asleep, exhausted from their ordeal. Frances and Henry had also dropped into a dead sleep after the sisters had seen to their care, offering baths and clean garments. Lachlan’s warriors had found nothing, and Evan confirmed the same when he returned. Not a trace of anyone in sight.

  Still Lachlan could not sleep. He felt unsettled, as if there was something he should know, but could not grasp. He sat by the campfire warmed by its flames, the night having chilled considerably. His men slept around him, with a few standing sentry around the convent.

  He caught the moving shadow out of the corner of his eye, and it took him a moment to realize that it was Sister Terese. She blended with the night shadows to slip silently along the edge of the woods.

  Lachlan didn’t give it a thought; he followed her. It was much too late for her to be up and about, especially going off alone. He worried over her safety, but more he wondered where she was going and why.

  He came upon her sitting on a boulder looking over the entrance of the woods and what he imagined would be a perfect spot to be at sunrise. But it was far from sunrise, so why was she here?

  She sat with arms wrapped around raised knees, a dark green wool shawl draped around her and her hair was free of the usual braid she wore. It fell to her waist and glistened like strands of shimmering silk in the full moon’s light.

  His tightening loins suddenly warned him to leave, get away, do anything but approach her.

  “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like,” Terese said.

  Oh lord, that was all he needed…an invitation.

  Of course, he accepted and was soon sitting next to her. “Is this a favorite spot of yours?”

  “I come here when I can’t sleep or at sunrise,” she answered, on a yawn.

  “I know the feeling,” he admitted and found himself wanting to draw closer to the heat of her body, but respectfully kept his distance.

  “There’s a distinct chill in the air tonight,” she said and stretched out her legs to wrap her shawl more tightly around her.

  How he wished he could wrap his arm around her, draw her near and keep her warm against him, wrapped solidly in his arms.

  You will definitely burn in hell, Lachlan Sinclare.

  He continued to heed the warning and asked, “Why can’t you sleep?”

  She shrugged.

  He sensed she knew, but didn’t wish to discuss it.

  “And you?” she asked. “Why can’t you sleep?”

  Because you haunt my thoughts. He couldn’t speak the answer aloud so he also shrugged.

  “Too many thoughts that need vanquishing?” she asked.

  “Precisely,” he agreed and wondered if her musings were as improper as his. He became curious and asked, “Why did you join the convent?”

  She took a moment to answer him. “I truly had no choice.”

  “Why?” he asked, now even more curious.

  “I had no place to go, no place to feel safe.”

  “Why?”

  She turned and smiled softly. “Now it is you who ask why too much.”

  “Guilty,” he admitted. “But also curious.”

  She hesitated.

  “I don’t mean to pry.”

  “No, it’s all right. It’s just a bit difficult for me to talk about,” she said and continued. “My family didn’t want me. I was a burden to them.”

  Damn if he didn’t feel a stab to his heart. How could someone so beautiful and selfless be a burden? He didn’t think when he blurted out, “That’s utter nonsense.”

  Her smile brightened. “You say what a friend would say.”

  Since there could be nothing more than friendship between them, he was grateful for the acknowledgment and wanted her to know the same. “I am your friend.”

  “That is good to know.”

  “You can count on me if ever you are in need,” he assured her.

  “That is generous of you, I shall remember that.”

  “You have not heard at all from your family?” he asked.

  Again she hesitated, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest as if protecting herself. He could only imagine the painful
memories that must haunt her.

  She shook her head. “You are lucky to have such a loving family.”

  “They have their moments,” he admitted with a laugh.

  “Your mother and father must be proud.”

  His smile faded along with his laughter. “My father has passed.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, her hand gently resting on his arm, offering comfort.

  Her warm flesh and tender touch tempted, but it was her sincere empathy that caused his desire to soar…much too high. That she truly had a caring heart fired his passion beyond belief, and he wanted nothing more than to bury her in his embrace.

  Instead he maintained control, though with great difficulty.

  “You must miss your father,” she said.

  “I do,” he admitted, realizing it had been the first time he had voiced it. “I truly do. He was a loving father, a great man and a wise laird.”

  She patted his arm. “He must have been a loving father, for you spoke it before anything else.”

  “You’re right.” He nodded slowly realizing how true it was. “My father always had time for me and my brothers, and especially my mother. They were inseparable.”

  “Raised with such love, I’m surprised you don’t look for it yourself. Or perhaps you do and don’t know it.”

  Her hand drifted away from him and he suddenly felt chilled, as if all warmth had gone with her. And oddly enough, he wondered if she could be right. In his endless quest of women, could he truly be searching for love?

  She yawned and rubbed the back of her neck. “I should be able to sleep now.” She turned to him. “Thank you for the company and the conversation.”

  “You are most welcome,” he said standing and reaching out his hand to help her up.

  She hesitated briefly before accepting, and once she stood she walked away without saying another word.

  It was just as well for in that brief moment when her hand rested in his, he was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her.

  The flames of hell are waiting for you, Lachlan Sinclare. You’re going to burn, burn, burn!

  “Shut up!” he yelled at himself and stomped off, knowing that sleep would not come easily tonight.

  Chapter 6

  Piper woke Terese about an hour before sunrise. She knelt next to Terese’s bed and whispered, “There is something you must see.”

  Rowena was already up busy making honey bread.

  “Keep our absence secret from our guests as long as possible,” Terese instructed Rowena and with quick, silent steps followed Piper over the convent grounds and into the woods.

  The sun was a bright, half orange ball on the horizon when they reached their destination, Terese knowing she had slowed Piper down. It amazed her how familiar the young woman was with every inch of the woods, and it was that way with any forest. Once in it, Piper was as comfortable with it as with an old, dear friend.

  Piper dropped to the ground and carefully brushed leaves out of the way to reveal tracks. “There were two of them, one heavy-footed and one nimble. They’re scouting.”

  A chill ran through Terese as she bent down alongside Piper to take a look. “Do you know who?”

  “Look here,” Piper said, pointing to one hardy imprint in the ground. “This was made by a sandal. Mercenaries mostly wear boots.”

  Terese frowned, leaning back on her haunches. “This confirms a fear I had. At first when Henry mentioned the mercenaries, I wondered if perhaps the gossip we perpetuated about our little group had grown out of hand. Then I wondered what if…What if it had nothing to do with us at all?”

  “It doesn’t bode well,” Piper agreed, then added proudly, “but we are warriors. You have seen to that.”

  Perhaps so, but Terese worried regardless.

  “I would guess that the warring clans sent scouts to see if a surprise attack against the mercenaries was feasible,” Piper continued.

  “And if they’re successful, they may just keep going, claiming everything in their path.”

  “A very good chance that’s exactly what they’ll do,” Piper said.

  “Is this as far as the scouts have gone?”

  “They circle for the moment, concerned with their plan of attack,” Piper explained. “They will probably continue to scout the remaining area afterward.”

  “And come upon the thriving farms,” Terese said shaking her head. “Once they discover the farmers don’t belong to any liege lord, their lands will be confiscated and they’ll be free no more.”

  “And the convent?”

  “They will not hurt us, but we will find our activities restricted.”

  “What can we do?” Piper asked anxiously.

  Terese paced, the dried leaves swirling around her scuffling feet. She stopped suddenly and one or two leaves attached themselves to the hem of her brown skirt. “There’s only one solution to this problem.”

  Piper waited expectantly.

  “I go see the mercenaries.”

  Lachlan woke just after sunrise and following a hurried stretch he made his way to where he was certain he’d find Sister Terese enjoying the morning sunrise. He stopped when he saw that she wasn’t there. He grew concerned that perhaps something happened to one of the children, or possibly Henry or Frances.

  With quick steps he made his way to the common shelter. He almost collided with Sister Hester when she hurried out the door, a basket on her arm.

  “Good morning, sir,” she said with a nod.

  He had given up on trying to convince the nuns to call him Lachlan.

  “I’m taking fresh honey bread to the men.” Hester pulled back the cloth for him to see.

  The delicious aroma had his stomach crying out.

  Hester smiled and handed him a slice, which he gratefully accepted.

  “I’m looking for Sister Terese,” Lachlan said before popping a piece into his mouth and relishing the sweet taste.

  “I’m not sure where she is, though I believe Sister Megan knows.”

  “Where can I find her?” he asked.

  “She’s left for one of the farms. A babe needs delivering.”

  “What farm? Where?” Lachlan asked.

  “Sister Piper would know that,” Hester said, slipping him another slice before walking away.

  “Where’s Piper?” he called out.

  Hester turned and shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  He stood eating the bread and wondering over his next move. “Evan!” he said aloud.

  “He’s off in the woods,” Andrew said, causing Lachlan to swerve around at his unexpected arrival. “He’s holding the work up again.”

  Lachlan cringed. “What this time?”

  “Fresh nests. Evan says the trees with the nests we can’t disturb. He’s marking the trees we can use. So, what are you going to do about it?” Andrew challenged.

  “You’re going to do as he says,” Lachlan ordered.

  Andrew shook his head. “Why do you allow him such fancies?”

  Lachlan raised a brow. “You question my command?”

  “Never,” Andrew assured him. “I will get the men to work as soon as Evan finishes.”

  Lachlan placed a sturdy hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Evan tracks like none I have ever seen.”

  “True,” Andrew nodded. “Very true. The men even talk about his exceptional skills.”

  “Now tell me, have you seen Sister Megan this morning?”

  Andrew shook his head vehemently. “I keep my distance when at all possible.”

  Lachlan grinned. “I am not accusing you of anything. I need to know if you’ve seen her today.”

  Andrew answered reluctantly. “I saw her for only a moment. She was in a hurry, clutching her basket, telling me she had to be on her way. She smelled like freshly blossomed flowers and her cheeks were flushed pink and—”

  “Enough!” Lachlan ordered. “How many times am I going to have to remind you that she is a nun?”

  “She does not look nor doe
s she act as a woman who has avowed herself to God, and you can’t tell me you haven’t thought the same watching the women.”

  “I can understand your apprehension. The women do not dress in the proscribed robes or act as piously as we would expect, but their reasoning makes sense. How could they possibly do the required work in such cumbersome garments or be lax in their chores?”

  “Now you sound like your brother Artair,” Andrew argued with a grin.

  Lachlan shook his head and laughed. “Never will I be that practical.”

  “Thank the heavens,” Andrew said with a smirk and playfully folded his hands in gratitude to the heavens.

  “Back to more important matters,” Lachlan instructed, anxious over Sister Terese’s absence. “You’ve seen nothing of Sister Terese this morning?”

  Andrew rubbed at the back of his neck. “Come to think of it, I don’t recall seeing her at all.”

  A shout from one of the men had Andrew running off to get the shelter work started, leaving Lachlan to stew in worry. If sisters Megan and Hester were accounted for, all that was left was for him to see if Rowena or Piper knew anything.

  He assumed Rowena to be in the common house tending the recent arrivals, but a quick peek inside found the room empty. A squeal of laughter had him smiling. Beatrice evidently was feeling safe enough to laugh.

  He walked around the side and saw Beatrice running in circles, her brother Harry chasing her with a worm that looked to have been plucked fresh from the garden. He was glad to see their pale cheeks colored pink and while sadness remained in their young eyes, they had found the resiliency to play as carefree children once again.

  When Beatrice spotted him, she reached her arms out to him and called out with a smile, “Save me, brave warrior, save me.”

  Lachlan understood her actions were more than simple play. She was testing him to see if she truly could depend on him. He immediately went to her rescue; scooping her up then playfully grabbing hold of Harry and ordering him drop his weapon. Harry giggled and dropped the worm to the ground.

  “You are my hero, brave warrior,” she sighed and wrapped her small arms tightly around his neck.

  She stole his heart right there and then, and he hugged her, wanting her to know that she was safe. She looked so much better than yesterday, all cleaned up and with fresh clothes, a little too large, but tucked and tied in places that made them fit reasonably well. She was actually very pretty with a spattering of freckles across her small nose and bright red hair that curled nicely with all the grime gone.