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“His Lordship has sent Mr. Dixon, here, to escort you to Dublin. You are to prepare yourself to leave, and be ready to embark no later than the day after tomorrow.”
“What?” Sabrina’s gaze snapped back to Ard-siúr. “No! I mean I can’t leave. Not now. It’s impossible. There must be a mistake.”
Ard-siúr cleared her throat. Adjusted her spectacles. Read the letter again, with only the slow tick of the case clock breaking the silence. “It all seems quite clear. Lord Kilronan requires your presence as soon as it can be accomplished. He says he must have you with him and his wife in Dublin as soon as can be arranged.”
“But why? He certainly never made any push to see me before.”
Ard-siúr glanced at the dwarf shifting uncomfortably in the corner. “If you go with Sister Anne, she’ll see that you’re housed and fed. Our guest quarters are simple, but”—her gaze fell on the dripping hat—“dry.”
He bowed, and with a final stream of water trailing from his hat brim, squelched after Sister Anne.
Ard-siúr straightened the clutter of papers on her desk. Actually now that Sabrina was noticing, the clutter extended to the whole room. Not in a noticeable way. But in jarring incremental pieces. An echo of intrusion. A lingering violence in the overwarm air. Even the cat seemed restless. Pacing the floor. Sniffing at a stain that hadn’t been there on Sabrina’s last visit. Brown. Fresh. And hastily cleaned.
I remember blood. And the mud as I fell.
What had Daigh really been doing the night she’d found him in here? Was it connected in some way to his disappearance this morning? Had she been a gullible little fool? She breathed through her sudden light-headedness. Focused on Ard-siúr to keep the room from spinning.
Ard-siúr removed her spectacles, her gaze long enough to make Sabrina squirm. “I would imagine His Lordship’s recent convalescence has spurred this new resolve. Many who glimpse their own mortality as your brother did this spring attempt to set their lives in order. Right past mistakes. Amend what they see as failings.”
“So am I mistake or failing?”
“You’re his sister. I’m sure he wants to assure himself of your happiness here and be certain that your heart remains committed to a life among us.”
“Or does he want to use me to achieve the advantageous marriage he scorned when he married that . . . woman?” She still couldn’t bring herself to call her new sister by name. For some reason Aidan’s hasty, ill-thought marriage rankled, though she couldn’t say why. It wasn’t as if she begrudged her brother his happiness. Only that . . .
“Sabrina, you came to us a wounded child. And we allowed you to hide among us. Use the peace you found here to recover. And you have. But now you’re a woman, full grown. You must test your strength. Return to a life beyond our walls. Only in that way can you make your choice and be sure of your path.”
“But what if he doesn’t allow me to return?”
“I’m certain your brother will not hinder you from following your heart and finding the future that is right for you.”
“Then you’ve never come up against Douglas determination. If Aidan wants something, he pounds away until he gets it.” Her imminent departure a case in point.
“Ahh, but you share that same tenacity. The irresistible force meeting the immovable object.”
How could this be happening? How could Aidan do this to her? Didn’t he know what the order meant to her? Didn’t he understand her need to remain here among the bandraoi? Where she felt a sense of belonging and community? Where she felt safe? But Aidan had never understood her. Never taken the time. It had been Brendan who strove to nudge her out of her shell. Or when needed, crawled into the shell with her and simply let her be her without criticism.
Sabrina clenched the chair back. Focused on the wood, cool and smooth under her hands. The draft of air moving the tapestries. All but one. The wall behind Ard-siúr’s desk gaped empty but for a frayed edge of wool caught on a nail. She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from that torn tangle of cloth. Daigh’s crime drifting on a breath of wind.
One more man she’d built up in her mind. Though at least this one had fallen from his pedestal over the space of a few days rather than a lifetime.
“Go, child. I will send someone to assist you in packing.”
“Yes, ma’am.’ Sabrina turned to go, but, struck with sudden inspiration, swung back. “Ard-siúr, did Kilronan send a maid to accompany me?”
“I’m not aware of anyone besides Mr. Dixon. Perhaps His Lordship assumed one of the sisters would travel with you.”
“Might I request someone?”
“If we can spare them. Who did you have in mind?”
“Jane Fletcher.”
Drumming her fingers, Ard-siúr considered the request. “She has been distracted since the attack. Not quite herself. Perhaps a change of scenery would do her good.” Nodded her assent. “Aye, she may accompany you to Dublin and remain until you are well settled.”
“Thank you, Ard-siúr.”
“I am sure Lord Kilronan feels he’s acting in your best interest. You’re his only remaining family.”
