Page 30 of A Plaid Case of Loving Ye
Chapter 6
Warriors did not become embarrassed.They did not feel chagrin, or even a vague sense of unease. Warriors were strong and tough and faced life without fear.
Ramsay was fooking glad he was a warrior, because if any situation called for all of the above, ‘twas now.
He stood, his hands clasped behind his back and his legs braced, in front of the hearth in what had once been the great hall. The Mother Superior—the current one at least—stood before him, a faint smirk on her lips, as Sisters Mary Novella and Mary Margarita quietly conferred to one side.
Sister Mary Verbena stood beside Nicola, blinking rapidly.
Nicola, for her part, had her hands clasped in front of her in what looked like a death grip. She might’ve thought she appeared serene, but Ramsay could see the panic in her warm brown eyes, and he ached to go to her, to hold her.
To tell her everything would be aright. He would ensure it.
“So, milord, ye made a miraculous recovery last night?” Sister Mary Titania prompted him.
He refused to blush. “Aye, I had a miraculous healer,” he drawled, and held the older woman’s gaze, daring her to make another quip. “Lady Nicola told me my name yesterday morning, which ye ken helped me remember my past. And last night, I remembered why I was attacked.”
The Mother Superior made a little coaxing gesture. “By all means, Ramsay, do tell.”
“I am a McIlvain, the eldest son of the laird. My father is still hale and hearty—at least he was when I last was with him—and thus I joined the ranks of the King’s Hunters until such a time as I am needed again.”
“A laird’s son.” Sister Mary Verbena blinked at Nicola. “A fine catch.”
Well,thatwas the wrong thing to say, judging from the way Nicola’s chin went up, her glare suddenly hot enough to melt butter.
Ramsay’s lips twitched at her response, but when Sister Mary Titania cleared her throat, he gave her his full attention once more.
“As ye ken, the King’s Hunters are given the most difficult missions. We hunt down men wanted by the Crown and bring them to justice.”
Sister Mary Margarita, with her back to all of them—of course—said, “I thought Hunters wore fearsome masks?”
“Some do,” Sister Mary Novella corrected, “to hide their identity. ‘Tis no’ required, though, and ‘twould be a sin to cover such a fine-looking countenance asthat.”
When he glanced at her in surprise, the nun who refused to bend her knees winked at Ramsay. For some reason, he shifted his gaze to Nicola…and was surprised to see her glaring at Sister Mary Novella.
Was that…jealousy?
Interesting.
“So, was yer attack somehow related to yer mission, Ramsay McIlvain?” the Mother Superior prompted.
He immediately nodded, flexing his forearms behind his back, remembering the anger when he’d realized he’d been tricked.
“I was on the trail of a particularly vile creature. A man who stood accused of raping the daughter of one of the King’s personal friends.”
When the gathered nuns sucked in startled breaths, Ramsay shifted his attention fully to Nicola. “Henry MacDonald,” he intoned. “The younger son of a minor lord who was feuding with the Douglasses.”
He could tell from the way her eyes widened that she understood. Her lips formed the words “Lady Helen”,but no sound emerged. He nodded, unwilling to speak the connection out loud; he didn’t know if the nuns had known Lady Helen Douglass’s history, but if they hadn’t, there was no need to worry them.
“He kenned I was after him,” Ramsay explained, holding her gaze. “And he arranged an ambush.” There was more to it than that, but he left out the details. “The bastard brought five henchmen, and I was alone.”
Slowly, Nicola raised her hands—her fingers still twined together—to her lips. He watched those warm brown eyes fill with tears and had to tighten his hold on his wrist behind his back to keep from reaching for her.
In the moment after he fought down his instincts to comfort her, he realized her tears were forhim.
When was the last time a woman had cried for—worried for—him?
Besides Mother, I mean.
