Page 149 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Beatrice...” Rhoslyn began, a lump in her throat.

Hildegard smiled gently. “You will see the abbess again in God’s time.”

Rhoslyn gave the nun’s hand a final squeeze and turned to Sir Ascot. He helped her mount one of the horses and she kept her gaze straight when they passed through the gates. In the dark mist beyond the convent Rhoslyn saw only Edward’s bold script commanding that she marry Sir Talbot St. Claire.

* * *

Talbot opened the door to the bower and took in the slim figure seated on the bench in front of the fire. Beautiful dark hair hung unbound about slim shoulders. Canny blue eyes met his stare. Beside her stood a tall warrior at least ten years Talbot’s senior, but fit as any man Talbot’s age. Firelight glistened off the polished hilt of the well-used broadsword at the man’s hip.

Talbot paused inside the doorway and returned his gaze to the woman. “Lady Finlay, I am honored to meet you. I understand you wanted to see me.”

She rose. “Will ye enter and close the door?”

Talbot flicked a glance at her protector.

She said, “So long as ye do no’ harm me, he will not harm you.”

“So long as he stays at his side of the room, there will be no misunderstandings,” Talbot replied.

“He will do as I bid. Please, Sir Talbot, time is short.” She nodded toward the door. “I canna’ risk prying ears.”

Talbot closed the door, crossed his arms, and waited.

“I have news concerning your betrothed.”

He tensed, but kept his expression cool. “What news could you possibly have concerning my wife?”

Her mouth twitched in indulgent amusement. “Calling Lady Rhoslyn your wife will be meaningless if a priest blesses her union with another man.”

“Are you saying an illegal marriage has been performed?”

The amusement reached her eyes. “Until Lady Rhoslyn is in your home—and your bed—there is some doubt as to your claim.”

“I make no claim, madam. She is my wife by order of King Edward.”

“Then let King Edward come here and enforce the decree. But that would be doing things the hard way. As Abbess of St. Mary’s convent, I can simplify things.”

“Abbess of St. Mary’s?” he repeated.

“Abbes Beatrice,” she said. “Forgive the deception. I could no’ risk anyone here knowing my true identity. It is best that Rhoslyn—and everyone else—never know I was here.” She paused. “I am a good woman to have as friend. Do ye wish me to be your friend?”

Talbot had found the church befriend no one but the church.

He canted his head. “I am always at the disposal of the church.”

“A wise man. I expect something in return for the favor I am about to bestow. This is no small matter, Sir Talbot. I am ensuring that your marriage to Lady Rhoslyn does not go awry.”

“That sounds like nothing short of a miracle.” And he didn’t believe in miracles.

“God works in mysterious ways,” the abbess said. “Are we agreed? A favor for a favor?”

“I give no favors that betray my king.”

She nodded. “Good. I do no’ like traitors and I trust them even less. Lady Rhoslyn has spent the last fourteen months at St. Mary’s mourning the death of her husband and son. Tonight, her grandfather’s men arrived to take her to Longford Castle where she will marry the new Earl of Melrose.”

Talbot feared something like this. Upon his arrival at Castle Glenbarr a week ago, he’d visited her grandfather with the betrothal contract. The old baron read the decree, then promised to bring Lady Rhoslyn from her convent. No blustering, no rejection of the marriage terms, not so much as a cross word. Aside from the fact he refused to name the convent, the whole affair had been too easy.

“Seward cannot be fool enough to think I will not take her by force,” Talbot said.