“I-I heard enough,” she confessed.
Brendan glanced around, as if afraid they might be overheard.
“Walk with me,” was all he said. Then he strode off, not waiting to see if she followed him. Biting back a sigh, Freya broke into a run to catch up.
“I know who ye are, which I think ye must have guessed,” Brendan said, once they reached the end of the hallway. “Ye are Freya McInnes, Laird Grahame’s escaped betrothed, and yer name is on everybody’s lips at the moment. I can’t imagine that this is news to ye, but ye are in terrible danger.”
Freya swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I had guessed, aye. And… are ye going to give me up? To Laird Grahame?”
Brendan glanced down at her briefly. “No, I am not. And neither is the Abbess. But we have different motivations. The Abbess wants to keep ye safe because she believes she has a duty of care to ye now. I want ye to stay hidden because it would be catastrophic for the convent if ye were found here. If I had my way, ye would be sent on yer way with supplies.”
Freya bit her lip. “Thank ye for yer honesty. Why do ye care so much about the convent?”
Brendan stopped dead, and she nearly walked into his back. “What do ye mean? It’s a convent, a holy place. Why should I not care about it?”
She narrowed her eyes, walking around him to look properly up into his face. “Nay, I think there’s something more. I’m just curious, that’s all.”
A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Aye, ye strike me as a curious type. Let’s just say that at a low point in my life, the convent and the Abbess herself did a great deal to help me. They probably saved my life. I owe them.”
“I see,” she managed.
Brendan began to walk away down the hall, more slowly this time. She hurried to catch up.
“And here I was thinking that ye came here to check up on me,” she said, half-smiling.
It was meant to be a joke, but Brendan did not smile.
“With the greatest respect,” he began slowly, “ye seem as the sort of lass who always gets what she wants. Spoiled, in a way. Never had to face any difficulty, or ever heard the wordnay.”
Freya winced. “I’d like to deny it, but it would be a lie. Ihavehad an easy life, I know that. Until my father forced me to become betrothed to the worst man in Scotland.”
Brendan acknowledged that with a grunt. He kept shooting quick, curious looks at her out of the corner of his eyes, and every time their eyes met, a shiver rolled down Freya’s spine. Whatever the feeling was, it most certainly was not appropriate for a convent.
“I still think ye haven’t been honest with me,” she said, darting ahead of him and walking backwards so that he was obliged to look at her. “Come now, I’ve told ye my secrets. We’ve already established that I’m a spoiled wee rich lass, standing on her own for the first time in her life. Can’t ye tell me one ofyersecrets?”
He sighed. “Lass, I think ye have bigger problems to worry about than me and my secrets.”
“I don’t know. I think ye are pretty interesting,” she grinned, tilting her head to one side. “I’m making friends here fast, ye know. I might be here for a while.”
Brendan stopped, placing his hands on his hips. “If I were ye, Freya, I’d keep my head down for a while.”
“I’m already hiding in a convent. How much more quiet could I be?”
He snorted. “If ye wanted to lie low, ye have chosen the wrong convent.”
“May I remind ye thatyesent me here?”
“Aye, that was before I knew ye were an escaped fugitive!”
She flushed at that. “Fugitive? Ye make it sound like I’m some sort of criminal. I’m just a woman who doesn’t want to marry a powerful man.”
Brendan looked away. “I’m sorry, ye are right. Ye have done nothing wrong, but ye are in danger. Are ye sure ye don’t want to take yer chances and run?”
She shrugged. “I’m already running. Besides, I like a mystery, andyeinterest me very much, Brendan.”
He blinked at that, a little taken aback. “I think ye have yer own problems to consider.”
“I think I need a distraction.”
