Page 23 of Awoken
She had no other choice. She’d now throw herself upon the mercy of the priest.
“No!” Her choked cry echoed through the now silent kirk. “I won’t take his hand … I won’t wed him.” Leanna’s gaze snared the priest’s, holding him fast. “This wedding is a crime, Father … I am a Bride of Christ and am being forced against my will.”
Shocked gasps and murmurs rippled through the kirk, yet Leanna didn’t take her gaze from the priest. She watched his face stiffen, his gaze widen, and realized with a jolt that he hadn’t known.
A nerve ticked under one eye as he slowly shifted his attention to MacKinnon. The clan-chief stood, stone still next to Leanna. She hadn’t looked his way, hadn’t dared to.
“This woman is anun?” Father Athol asked, his voice rising.
“Shewasa novice at Kilbride,” MacKinnon replied, his tone hardening. “But as ye can see, she isn’t now.”
“He abducted me!” Leanna gasped, the words rushing out of her. She had an audience at last—a kirk full of people who needed to know what a villain this man was. Maybe they were ignorant of all of this? Perhaps they’d turn against him once they knew? “He brought me to Dunan by force.”
Father Athol went still, and his dark brows knitted together. “Is this the truth, MacKinnon?”
“Of course not,” MacKinnon replied. “The woman lies … she is merely nervous … pay her no attention.”
Leanna did tear her attention from the priest then, and stared at MacKinnon. He stood there calmly, a faint smile upon his lips. However, those grey eyes of his were wintry. She’d angered him, although he was doing an admirable job of hiding it.
Father Athol cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “But … if this woman is a nun, ye cannot wed her.”
“I told ye, Father … she was merely a novice. It was her father’s will that we should wed. I am merely carrying out his wishes.”
“Filthy liar!” Leanna’s temper exploded. Fury pounded against her ribs. Suddenly, she didn’t care what happened to her. “How dare ye use my father’s death as a shield? My father hated ye … he sent me to Kilbride so that I mayavoidbeing wed to ye … and the moment ye heard he was dead, ye sent yer men after me.”
She swiveled around, meeting the priest’s stunned gaze once more. “Please, Father … ye must believe me. Send word to Mother Shona at Kilbride, she will confirm what I have just told ye.” She dropped to her knees before him then, clasping her hands before her. “Please don’t wed me to this man.”
A brittle silence descended upon the kirk. All the whispering and muttering ceased, and suddenly the only thing Leanna could hear was the rasp of her own breathing. She’d taken this as far as she could now—she’d placed her fate in the priest’s hands.
Father Athol stared down at her, and she saw the conflict upon his face. “This is indeed wrong, lass,” he said finally, his voice held a rasp of outrage. He hastily made the sign of the cross. “I cannot allow this union to take place.” He looked over at where the clan-chief had not yet moved. “I apologize, MacKinnon, but I won’t sanction this union. Ye must send this woman back to Kilbride Abbey where she belongs.”
Hope jolted through Leanna at these words. Like the parting of the clouds after days of rain, sunlight filtered into her dark world. Finally, someone saw the madness of all of this and was willing to help her. The tension that had wound itself into a tight knot within her released. She was saved.
It took MacKinnon a while to answer, so long in fact that Leanna dared to look his way.
He stood, hands by his sides, his face carven from granite, and when he finally spoke, there was a rasp to his voice. “I must have misheard ye, Father. Surely, ye are not refusing me?”
The priest nodded, his shoulders squaring as resolve settled upon him. “I am … this wedding cannot take place,” he replied. His hand reached up, his fingers curling over the crucifix around his neck. “It is against God’s will … against what is right.”
“And that’s yer final word on the subject?”
“Aye … I am sorry.”
“Not as much as I am.”
And then, Duncan MacKinnon moved.
One moment he was standing there, staring at the priest—and the next he drew the dirk at his hip, leaped forward, and sank his blade into Father Athol’s belly.
11
His Word is Law
THE PRIEST’S SCREAM echoed through the kirk.
Father Athol reeled back, but MacKinnon went after him. And to Leanna’s horror, he yanked his dirk from the man’s belly and stabbed him thrice more—once to the belly, once to the chest, and then to the neck.
The priest crumpled, and this time MacKinnon let him fall. And as the man lay dying at his feet, the clan-chief kicked him in the ribs.
