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Lachlan signaled to Evan and he hurried over. “Evan well knows the scent of the hunt in the woods.”
Piper tapped her chest. “These are my woods.”
Lachlan grinned. “Would you mind sharing them with Evan?”
Piper scrunched her nose and looked Evan up and down. “You can keep a good pace? I won’t have to hold your hand?”
Terese kept herself from laughing and noticed that Lachlan did the same. She was glad to see that he wasn’t insulted, but rather found Piper’s remarks amusing.
Evan was quick to assure her. “No, Sister, you’ll find me knowledgeable of the woods. There’ll be no hand holding.”
“There better not be,” Lachlan said seriously, though his deep brown eyes twinkled with merriment.
Evan’s pale cheeks turned scarlet while Piper shook her head and said to Evan, “Follow me.”
“The lad is susceptible to your teasing,” Terese remarked, watching the pair walk away and wishing that Piper could know how it felt for a young man to hold her hand. At nineteen, she was the youngest of the women and had confided in Terese that she knew nothing of men, but that sometimes she found herself curious.
“A teasing reminder,” Lachlan said. “I want my men to remember that while you are all beautiful women, you are nuns.”
“Are you saying that I’m beautiful, sir?”
For a moment he startled, presumably realizing he had just complimented a nun on her beauty. But he caught himself and delivered a charming smile.
“I meant no disrespect, Sister Terese, but when a woman is beautiful there is no denying it, whether a nun or not.”
She felt her heart catch. While he was obviously a quick-witted charmer, she couldn’t help think that it was the first time anyone had ever told her that she was beautiful. Usually, it was the opposite. An ugly shrew, that’s what she had been called far too often.
Terese briefly savored the special moment then took control of the situation. “I will allow your compliment, but in the future, please refrain yourself.”
Lachlan bowed his head respectfully. “As you wish, Sister.”
“I did wish to discuss with you the contents of the message you intend to send to church officials,” she said, reminding herself that there were more important matters to consider than being told she was beautiful.
“I thought you would, so my men stand ready to leave as soon as we finish discussing the matter.”
“Your thoughtfulness is appreciated,” she said. While she would have preferred to be more blunt, she had to remember she was supposedly a nun; a pious and patient woman. How far from the truth that was.
“I plan to inform the officials of your present status,” Lachlan said.
“Which is?”
“That five of you are left out of the”—he paused a moment—“I believe I was told Mother Abbess, plus eight nuns and Alyce Bunnock had been sent here.”
“That’s correct,” Terese said.
“That would mean that five succumbed to the sickness.”
“Again correct.”
“Then why ten graves?” he asked.
“We picked up a few women in need along the way,” Terese answered, having prepared herself for his questions. She realized from the first that Lachlan Sinclare might appear a charmer, but he was far from a fool. Besides, she knew somewhat of the Sinclare brothers having heard her father speak with respect about them. They were well-honored and courageous warriors, which was probably why he requested help from the laird Sinclare in fetching his daughter.
“Perhaps one of them brought the sickness with them.”
“It’s possible,” she agreed, though it had been one of the nuns who had fallen ill before the other women had joined them. “I don’t think the church will be interested as to what caused the sickness.”
“It isn’t only the church I’ll be answering to,” he said. “As I told you last night, Angus Bunnock might have questions.”
The image of her father rushed into her head. He was big and broad with a booming voice and snow white hair down to his chest and a bushy mustache that tickled her whenever he would pick her up and cuddle her when she was little.
She didn’t know what happened to change things between herself and her father, or perhaps she did. She had developed a willful mind, though it had been he who encouraged it. She felt she merely was truly her father’s daughter. She would do as she pleased, not as she was told and her mouth was sharp with retorts. Her father had warned her that no one would seek a union with her if she didn’t watch her mouth. She was fine with that, for she wanted no master for a husband. Her father thought differently.
“As I told you, she is at peace. That should make him happy,” Terese said.
“You spent time traveling here with Alyce Bunnock, what did you think of her?”
Terese wasn’t sure what to say about herself. Did she tell him that Alyce was an intelligent woman, brave, adept with weapons, and could sit a horse with skill? Did she tell him that Alyce was good at tactics, having helped her father plan his battle strategies? Or did she confirm what he probably had heard; that Alyce Bunnock was not the easiest person to befriend?
