Page 80 of Wedded to the Sinful Duke

“You will atone for your sins,” Mother Superior continued, her voice laced with finality. “And that is the end of it. The path to redemption is arduous, and it is through enduring it that one finds grace.”

With those final words, Mother Superior turned on her heel, the echo of her footsteps fading as she made her way to the door. The lock clicked shut once more, leaving Ciara alone withher scant provisions and hope which was dwindling with each passing moment.

Reluctantly, she devoured the food which didn’t help at all in satiating her hunger.

As the quiet of her confinement wrapped around her like a heavy shroud, she began to hum softly, her voice barely a whisper against the silence. It was the tune of her grandmother’s song, a melody imbued with the warmth and strength of a past now distant. The notes floated through the air, a fragile bridge to a time when comfort and love enveloped her in a warm embrace.

In the solitude of her cell, Ciara clung to the memory of her grandmother’s unyielding fortitude. Ciara’s heart ached as she recalled the times when her grandmother’s words had been a beacon of hope in the darkest of moments.

With renewed resolve, she whispered a quiet promise to herself. She would endure. She would not surrender to the darkness that sought to envelop her. For if there was even the slightest chance of escape, of finding a way out of her torment, she would grasp it with every ounce of strength she possessed.

So, she kept repeating inside her mind.Hold on. Hold on. Hold on…

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Jonathan stirred from his restless sleep. The night had been fitful, without any rest. He knew that he couldn’t dally. He had to keep going because he couldn’t know how far away Ciara had been taken.

With a sense of urgency, he threw off the covers, got dressed, and hurried to the inn’s stable, his footsteps echoing with purpose in the quiet morning with no one else awake but him. The stable welcomed him with warmth and familiarity as it was bathed in the soft, golden glow of the early sunlight which seemed to beckon him to get going. Jonathan’s horse, a strong and well-bred steed, nickered softly as he approached. The animal’s coat gleamed with health and vigor, a reassuring sight for Jonathan. He ran his hand along the horse’s flank, feeling the firm muscles beneath the sleek coat.

“We’ve got a long way to go, old friend,” Jonathan said with a determined edge to his voice, “but we will find Ciara. We have to.”

With practiced ease, Jonathan mounted his horse, the animal shifting beneath him with a gentle nudge. He adjusted his reins, his eyes fixed on the northward path that stretched before him. Every mile traversed was a step closer to his goal, each stride a promise of hope and resolution.

The horse broke into a swift trot, and Jonathan urged it forward with a firm but gentle hand. The familiar rhythm of hooves against the road and the crisp morning air invigorated him. The landscape, with its rolling hills and distant forests, blurred into a tapestry of green and gold as he sped toward his destination.

As he rode north, the miles and hours melded into one continuous surge of purpose. The thought of Ciara, and the desperation to find her, fueled his every stride. With each passing moment, Jonathan’s commitment to his search grew ever stronger, driving him forward through the dawning day.

CHAPTER 39

Minutes turned into hours of riding, and Jonathan knew that he would need to stop very soon. Exhaustion was slowly taking hold of him, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He had to stop and rest, if only for an hour or so. The journey northward had been long and arduous, and he was slowly succumbing to fatigue. As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, he spotted the welcome sight of another inn, its sign creaking gently in the breeze.

He guided his horse to a halt and dismounted with a weary sigh, his body protesting the effort. The inn’s façade was modest but inviting, a beacon of respite in his relentless search. He slowly made his way to the entrance, his eyes searching for any signs of Ciara or Mother Superior.

As soon as he entered, the murmur of conversation filled his ears. Jonathan approached the bar where the innkeeper was polishing a glass, his gaze sweeping over the patrons.

In a quiet corner sat a nun, her habit a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere around her. Her demeanor was demure, her head bowed in contemplative silence. She didn’t look anything like the frightening woman he had been told about. Then again, everyone had the capability of pretending to be something they were not when circumstances forced them to.

Could it be? He wondered silently to himself. Even if it wasn’t Mother Superior, perhaps it was someone else, someone traveling with them, someone who had perhaps seen them. In any case, just seeing her offered him the confirmation that he needed that he was on the right track.

Jonathan’s heart quickened with a spark of hope. He approached the nun with a measured stride, his face etched with both fatigue and determination. “Excuse me, Sister,” he began, his voice carrying a note of urgency, “I am searching for a woman who may have passed through here. She is the abbess of St. Catherine’s Nunnery. And there is a young woman with her… have you perchance seen them?”

The nun looked up from her reflection, her eyes soft and round with surprise. She offered a small, hesitant smile. “I am sorry, sir, but I do not recall seeing any other woman in cloth apart from myself.”

Jonathan’s hopes began to wane, but he pressed on, hoping against hope that he might have missed something. “Are you certain? She is a tall, stern woman, quite distinguished. I am on a very important matter and any information about her or the young woman accompanying her could be crucial.”

The nun’s gaze lowered once more, her fingers nervously twisting the edges of her habit. “I am afraid I have not seen anyone matching that description, young man. I’ve been here but a short time myself, so perhaps you should inquire with the innkeeper.”

“Yes, I shall do so, thank you,” Jonathan nodded gratefully, turning away from the nun and heading back to the innkeeper. Jonathan’s weariness faded as he approached the man with a new sense of urgency. The innkeeper, polishing a glass behind the bar, looked up as Jonathan addressed him.

“Good evening. Have you seen a nun traveling with a young woman? I’m searching for someone very important, and any information could be vital.”

The innkeeper’s brow furrowed in thought. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen anyone fitting that description. However, just a short while ago, someone mentioned spotting a nun traveling on a jail coach not far from here.”

Jonathan’s heart raced at the mention of the jail coach. He seized upon the information with a glimmer of hope. “A jail coach? How long ago was this?”

The innkeeper scratched his head, trying to recall. “About an hour ago, I believe. The person who saw it said it was heading north.”

Without another word, Jonathan reached into his pocket, tossing a few coins onto the counter as a gesture of thanks. He turned sharply on his heel and dashed outside, his mind racing.

That had to be her! Jonathan couldn’t believe that he had managed to catch up with them. His heart was racing like mad, beating inside his throat, and he could barely breathe with excitement and apprehension. But he knew that the most difficult part of the mission still lay ahead of him. He doubted that Mother Superior would just give Ciara back to him. Regardless of what he had to do, he would bring Ciara home. He had vowed to do so.

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