Page 91 of Intrigued By A Highlander

“You can’t get the innocent women—like Reena—out of your mind and those who may suffer because of your plight.”

“Aye. How do I prevent that?”

“First, by quelling rumors about Autumn while we search for who wants her dead and secondly, which you are not going to like, we seek Torrance’s help.”

“I feared you might say that,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“We have no choice. He is the only one powerful enough to help us.”

“And powerful enough for him to take me away from you,” she reminded.

“Trust me when I tell you that I will not allow that to happen.”

“Trust me when I tell you that my step-brother won’t care. He will have his way.”

“We will see,” Knox said. “Tomorrow is a new day. We will tackle our problems then, for now we sleep in peace.”

Peace.

She had found it in Knox’s arms, but would she be able to keep it?

CHAPTER 24

Soft kisses and tender touches woke her the next morning, and while last night was rushed, this morning they shared a gentle, lingering lovemaking. It was a memory Dru would always cherish.

However, they were reminded soon enough of their present dilemma and hurried to ready themselves to face the day when a knock sounded at the door. The monk from the night before delivered food and drink and informed them that Brother Edmund would be with them shortly.

Dru had no appetite. She nibbled on a piece of bread at her husband’s insistence as restless thoughts kept her pacing around the fire pit.

It wasn’t long before Brother Edmund arrived.

“I will take you to him now,” he said, then stepped outside and waited for them to follow.

Knox swung his cloak over his shoulders then grabbed Dru’s cloak off the bed and draped it around her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as he eased her out the door. He felt her tension, her worry, and he shared them.

Brother Edmund led them through the maze of makeshift shelters and soot-darkened camps, a makeshift world cobbled together in the shadow of the partially built abbey. Around it now stretched a sprawl of tents and lean-tos, and smoke curling into the gray sky. Men in plain, brown robes moved quietly, some tending fires, others hunched in silent prayer. The MacTavish brothers snored loudly around one fire all except Atley. He slept with his arms around Reena.

They stopped before a sagging tent stitched from scraps of wool and canvas. Brother Edmund hesitated, then drew back the flap.

“He’s in there,” he said. “But I warn you—he’s not well.”

Knox stepped inside without a word. Dru followed, her heart tight in her chest.

The stink of old blood, urine, and damp earth hung heavily in the air. On a mat of straw lay a figure barely recognizable—Cleric Freen, the man who forced a marriage between them. Now he looked like a ruin of himself. His robe was filthy, his face a map of bruises, one eye swollen shut, the other dull with pain. A strip of cloth bound one arm to his chest, crusted with dried blood.

When he turned toward them, his good eye flickered wide in surprise, narrowed with something that looked far too close to fear.

“You…” he rasped. “What are you doing here?”

“We came for answers,” Knox said, his voice low and controlled. “You’re going to give them to us.”

Freen made a pained sound and turned his face away. “I’ve nothing to say to either of you.”

Knox took a step forward. “Try again.”

Brother Edmund touched his arm. “He’s injured. Whatever you’re hoping for?—”

“I said we came for answers,” Knox repeated, more sharply this time, ignoring Brother Edmund. “About Autumn. You made it known that you have information about her.”

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