Sister Clare started to protest, Sister Luca let out a whimper, but Caitlin would not be swayed. She strode quickly out into the sunshine, winding through the banks of azaleas, wild rose, and yarrow that lined the garden path.
The building was dim after the glare of the sun, and Caitlin blinked, her eyes fighting to pierce the shadows as she made her way through the abbey by an instinct bred in countless childhood games. But even as she approached the familiar cell, her vision had not fully cleared. Silence emanated from the abbess's chamber—not the usual quiet serenity, rather a silence far too thick that pressed on Caitlin's chest. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to step inside.
He stood against the wall, hands clasped behind his back, face as unreadable as the ancient writings on the druid stone. Reverend Mother sat upon her chair, fingers folded in prayer. Shadow veiled them both.
"My child." A slender, capable hand reached out to Caitlin. She took it, comforting herself with the strength in it, the familiar warmth.
"Is—is everything settled?" Caitlin asked.
"Aye. It seems..." The abbess's voice broke a little. "You are to have an adventure."
Caitlin could not stop herself from backing away a step. "I do not understand."
"This man is the messenger of the chieftain who gave you into our care so many years ago, and he has come to reclaim you. Take you back to court."
Caitlin drew her innate regal aura about her like a robe, praying it would conceal the terror thrumming inside her. "I thank you for bringing your chieftain's offer, Niall of the Seven Betrayals. And I am sorry for your trouble, trying to find me. But—"
"You! The wench from the woods!" Recognition flared in those fierce eyes, the great hulk of a man suddenly seeming uncomfortable as if someone had thrust a bunch of nettles down the back of his shirt. "You are Caitlin of the Lilies?"
"Aye." Caitlin shifted uneasily, remembering all too clearly the feel of those hard muscles, the strength in those large hands, and the rage in him when she had escaped his grasp. A man as fiercelyproud as this one would not deal well with the humiliation of being bested by a woman. She swallowed hard. "Please thank your chieftain for his concern, but inform him that I choose not to return to court,"
"The choice is not yours to make," the warrior ground out. Caitlin sputtered in outrage, but he merely plunged on. "Now, gather whatever belongings you can in the time it takes me to ready my horse, and leave the rest behind. We depart at once."
"At once?" The words slammed into Caitlin's stomach like a fist, and she glanced at the abbess, feeling betrayed.
Yet Reverend Mother looked as stricken as she felt. "Surely you cannot mean to leave so soon."
"I have no time to waste," Niall said with an impatient sweep of his scarred hand. "I must deliver her to the chieftain."
"The chieftain will have Caitlin for the rest of her life," the abbess objected. "Caitlin and I will have this night."
Niall started to protest, and Caitlin was terrified he would haul her out of the abbey no matter what Reverend Mother said.
"You claim your chieftain is a just man. Thenhe can afford to be a merciful one. This night will mean nothing to him, or to you. It will be the most precious one of my life and gentle the parting for this girl who has harmed no one."
"I have my duty to perform." His jaw was set at a stubborn angle.
"That is true. Yet if all you cared about was performing your duty, why would you care about your name? Cleansing yourself of the stain of past deeds not even your own?" the abbess asked.
A flush spread up the cords of his neck, his eyes gleaming like sword points as they flashed to Caitlin's face, then away again. "A man is nothing without a proud name."
"No. A man is nothing without his honor. But honor and duty are not the same. Honor demands sacrifices you believe you cannot bear." A faraway look wreathed the abbess's face. "You have been willing to bleed, to risk death for honor. Now I appeal to that honor. In twenty years of loving this girl, watching her grow, have I not earned this one night of farewell, as you will earn the right to change your name when you return to the fortress?"
Was it possible that the warrior's features softened just a little? He quickly shuttered it away, masked it with frustration.
"I beg of you." Caitlin spoke the words, certain the warrior knew just how much it cost her.
He cast her a blistering scowl, then swore under his breath. "Meet me beside the gate at dawn, then. We will make up the time we have lost by traveling at a warrior's pace, and I vow if I hear one scrap of wailing—"
Small chance of that! Caitlin thought. She would sooner be roasted over a slow fire than admit any weakness to this man! "Nay. I give you my word," she said.
The warrior gave her one final, piercing look, which sent shivers skittering down Caitlin's spine. Then he spun on his heel and stalked from the room.
She shivered, suddenly cold. She should have felt relief, but as she turned back toward Reverend Mother, the pain in her breast stabbed deeper. Betrayal. That was what she felt—an unfathomable blow from the abbess's hands. "He is a brute!" Caitlin cried. "How can you even think of forcing me to go with him?" She scrambled wildly for some explanation she could accept. "Did he threaten the abbey?"
"Nay."
"Then why—" Caitlin's voice broke, and shehated herself for that weakness. "You promised you would not let him take me!"
