Page 33 of Unforgotten
A determined look settled upon her father’s face then. “I will organize a visit in a few weeks’ time … as soon as the harvest is done.”
A smile curved Ella’s lips. She hadn’t expected him to make a date now; he really was keen to spend time with her. Warmth spread through her at this realization. Of course, with everything that had happened, she’d overlooked the fact that her father had missed her all these years.
“Ready to go, Sister Ella?”
The clip-clop of hooves intruded, and Ella tore her gaze from her father to see Gavin approach upon his grey mare, Saorsa. Like the day before, his expression was shuttered. It was hard to believe this was the same man who’d pulled her close and kissed her so passionately.
But, once again, his altered manner came as a relief to Ella. If he’d put up those walls to begin with, neither of them would have ended up in such a compromising position.
Ella nodded before turning her attention back to Stewart Fraser. Her father’s eyes glistened as he watched her. Although she’d invited him to visit her at Kilbride, they both knew the truth of it. Her life was dedicated to God—they would see very little of each other in the years to come.
Stepping forward, Ella threw her arms around him one last time.
They started their journey under leaden skies. Storms had raged over the isle during the night, leaving cold, damp weather in their wake. Fortunately, although it was a dull day, no rain fell as Gavin’s party left Scorrybreac.
The clan-chief led the way out of the castle, flanked by the captain of the Scorrybreac guard—a heavyset man named Ceard. Ella rode directly behind them while the rest of the party, four MacNichol warriors, brought up the rear.
They passed through the village, hailing folk as they went, before pushing their horses into a brisk trot. Monadh had a short, bouncing gait, but Ella settled into his stride easily. It had been years since she’d ridden, yet the journey here had brought it all back.
Leaving Scorrybreac behind, the party headed south, hugging the coastline. Mid-morning they crossed into MacLeod territory and skirted the coastal village of Kiltaraglen. Yet they didn’t pause, instead continuing on their path across the rolling hills of the eastern coast of Skye. To the west rose the dark shadows of great peaks, ominous against the iron-grey sky.
“It’ll rain again,” Ceard announced, motioning west. “Those storm clouds over the mountains are headed our way.”
Gavin gave a grunt, acknowledging the comment.
Watching the two men, Ella realized that Gavin had hardly spoken since they’d left Scorrybreac. Luckily for him, Ceard wasn’t a garrulous man. But after receiving such a brusque response from his clan-chief, the captain didn’t make any other attempts at conversation.
Gavin is sore about all of this.
Ella pursed her lips. Of course he was. She wasn’t sure what he’d hoped having her return to Scorrybreac would achieve, but she’d wager he hadn’t planned on kissing her.
That had been a poor decision.
As was yer reaction to him.
Her conscience wasn’t about to let her place all the blame on him. Aye, Gavin had taken liberties he shouldn’t have, yet she had melted into his arms like hot tallow; she had parted her lips so he could deepen that kiss.
The memory of it made heat flush across her body.
Stop it.This wouldn’t do at all. A nun couldn’t have such unchaste thoughts. She needed to stop them, before they tormented her further.
“Jesus, Lover of chastity … Mary, Mother most pure,” Ella whispered a prayer that Mother Shona had taught her in her early days at Kilbride, “and Joseph, chaste guardian of the Virgin, to ye I come at this hour, begging ye to plead with God for me. I earnestly wish to be pure in thought, word, and deed in imitation of yer own holy purity.”
The other riders were far enough away that no one heard her softly murmured words. Moments passed, and still, Ella didn’t feel any more at peace. The melting sensation that thoughts of that kiss had provoked, still lay heavily within the cradle of her hips.
Heaving in a deep breath, she began to whisper another, more strident prayer. “Jesus, bless me with Yer infinite graces, That I may remain in a state of purity. Strengthen my body, spirit and soul to continually reflect Yer chastity—”
Up ahead Gavin twisted in the saddle, his gaze settling upon her. “Did ye say something, Sister Ella?”
“No,” Ella replied swiftly, her cheeks flaming. She had taken care to keep her voice low. Surely, he hadn’t heard her?
And yet there was a knowing light in his blue eyes that made the heat in her cheeks burn brighter still. He didn’t smile; his face was a study in inscrutability. Yet somehow he knew where her thoughts had been, and what her whispered words were in aid of.
Ella dropped her gaze to her hands; they gripped the reins tightly. A moment later she sensed him look away from her, leaving Ella and Monadh alone once more.
Inhaling deeply, Ella promised herself that she’d wait till she was alone in future before murmuring any more prayers.
Gavin knelt next to the fire pit, watching as the tender flames caught alight. It had taken a while, for the wood was slightly damp. However, the tinder he’d brought with him had worked.
