Wrapped within his protective embrace, the steady beat of his heart, his gentle words a potent reminder that someone cared, that she wasn’t alone. Fighting to control the swell of grief, she held in the tears.
“’Tis the third time you have offered me much-needed comfort,” she said, hervoice unsteady.
“You are naught but trouble,” he whispered, his words far from holding censure.
“I am.” She lifted her head and met his blue eyes, and the tenderness in his gaze stole her breath. Without warning, desire slid through her. Shaken by the need he inspired, she stepped back. “We should be returning. As you said, ’tis dangerous.”
“Elspet, there is naught wrong in grieving for those you love.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and wished she was still in his arms. A reckless thought. He made her care too much. “I know, but I despise the weakness my grief brings me.” Refusing to linger on her sadness, or what he made her feel, she started toward the door. “I should finish altering the monk’s robe I will wear. With my ankle well enough, ’tis best if we leave at first light.”
“I will let Father Lamond know.” Cailin strode ahead of her, opened the door, muttered a curse. Wood scraped as he shoved it closed. “Riders are coming across the field.”
“Are they the earl’s men?”
“I didna see anyone I recognized, but there is only one reason a small contingent would dare to approach a man who is rumored to have a contagious illness.”
“Because,” she whispered, “they suspect we are here.”
“Aye.”
Heart pounding, Elspet ran toward the exit.
He caught her arm. “What are you doing?”
“We must warn Father Lamond and prepare in case we need to escape!”
Cailin’s hard gaze met hers. “’Tis too late.”
Chapter 7
Cailin hauled Elspet with him across the straw-strewn floor toward a mound of hay as the steady thrum of hooves grew outside the stable.
Fear shimmered in her eyes.“We must hide!”
“Aye. Help me, quickly.” Working in unison, they shoved armloads of hay aside to create a hole in the stack. “Get in, hurry. Once I have covered the gear, Iwill join you.”
Moments later, he climbed beside her, tugged hay upto shield them.
“What if they see us?”
He ignored the sharp ends of the pungent blades poking his face and withdrew his dagger. “They may not enter the stable.” And prayed he was right.
A snort from outside announced the riders had halted. “Do you think Finnean Howe is inside?” a man’s deep voice asked. “He could be out hunting.”
“I didna know as ’tis late in the day to be out, but if he doesna answer,” another man said, “we will return in the morning.”
“’Tis said that anyone who gets within an arm’s length of him will catch his malady,” the first man said, nervousness edging his voice.
“Which is why we will wait outside until he answers our call.”
Elspet unsheathed hersgian dubh. “At least they dinna know that ’tis Father Lamond’s home,” she said, keepingher voice low.
“Aye,” Cailin whispered back. “That my uncle’s knights are brazen enough to risk confronting a man they believe is contagious exposes their desperation.”
“Finnean,” a man yelled.
A gust of wind battered the stable.
