Page 5 of Awoken
Tears trickled down Leanna’s face, but she didn’t move to brush them away. Instead, she remained seated upon her pallet, like a statue carven from ice.
And yet heat flushed through her as the long moments stretched out. Her hands, which lay upon her lap, balled into fists, her nails biting into her palms. Anger swept over her, warring with the knot of grief that twisted in her breast.
How could God let this happen?
She’d never wanted to take the veil. She’d never felt the ‘calling’ that many of the other women here had. But she’d wanted to wed Duncan MacKinnon even less. Her father, determined to keep the MacKinnon clan-chief from his first-born daughter, had sent Leanna here. She’d been upset with her father at first; she had felt betrayed. She wasn’t interested in dedicating her life to serving God, to giving up all her possessions and any hope of taking a husband and having children. It seemed like a great sacrifice indeed.
Her mother and younger sisters all wept when they heard the news, but Niall MacDonald had been resolved. MacKinnon had developed an obsession with Leanna after meeting her at a gathering between their two clans the previous summer. Her few conversations with him had left her shaken and him determined to have her. He wouldn’t let it go.
Leanna squeezed her eyes shut, but still the tears flowed, burning down her cheeks. The ache in her chest increased, and she raised a hand, rubbing at her breast bone with her knuckles.
Her father had been a good man. He’d deserved to live to an old age.
Leanna clenched her jaw so tightly that pain lanced through her ears. Indeed, there was no fairness, no justice at all in this life—when men like Duncan MacKinnon lived and her father died.
The door to the dormitory creaked open, causing Leanna to snap out of her grief-induced trance. Sister Coira had come to check on her. The nun’s violet eyes were shadowed with concern, her proud face taut. She approached Leanna without a word before settling down upon the pallet next to her.
Still silent, Coira reached out, placing her hands over Leanna’s.
Leanna’s breathing hitched, a sob escaping. It was easier to cope, easier to keep a leash on her sorrow when she was alone. But in the face of Coira’s kindness, she crumbled.
Leaning into her friend’s shoulder, she wept.
Coira didn’t speak. Instead, she merely sat and held her, and Leanna gave herself up to the sorrow that swept over her in a tempest.
Eventually, her sobbing ceased, and she moved back from Coira. Drawing in a shaky breath, Leanna wiped at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her habit. “I can’t believe he’s actually gone … it all seems like a dark dream.”
“I’m not surprised,” Coira replied softly. “He died so suddenly … may the Lord rest his soul.”
Leanna looked up, her gaze meeting Coira’s for the first time since she had broken down. Her father had been a God-fearing man. Part of him had been proud to gift his eldest daughter to the abbey. She hoped that Coira was right, that he was at peace now, and that God was watching over him. Her throat constricted as tears welled once more.
It was no good—she couldn’t see the positive in this. The two years she’d spent at Kilbride had not given her the same faith her father had.
“We should go to the kirk and pray for him,” Coira said after a pause. “Do ye feel strong enough to do so?”
Leanna swallowed hard. “I can’t, Sister Coira. My father’s men are waiting for me. I’m supposed to be in here gathering my things. They’re preparing Da for burial in Duncaith and awaiting my arrival.”
Coira’s gaze widened. “Ye are going away?”
Leanna nodded. “Just for a couple of days … Ma wishes me to be there when they bury him.”
“Has Mother Shona agreed to this?”
Something in Coira’s voice made Leanna tense. “Aye,” she replied warily. “Although she isn’t happy about it … ye don’t look pleased either?”
Coira sat back, expelling a long breath as she did so. “It’s not a good idea for nuns to leave the abbey,” she said, holding Leanna’s eye steadily. “Look what happened to Sister Ella.”
A strange thrill went through Leanna at these words, momentarily overshadowing her grief. How she’d been jealous of Ella’s new life as wife to Gavin MacNichol—a man as kind-hearted and strong as he was handsome.
“I won’t be away for long,” she replied, shoving aside the sensation. Resolve caused her spine to straighten and her shoulders to square, even as the loss felt like a kick to the chest. “I have to go … I must say goodbye to my father.”
A group of nuns had gathered in the yard before the kirk when Leanna finally emerged from the dormitory. She carried little with her, just a leather satchel slung across her front.
Many of the sisters wore sad expressions, their gazes full of empathy. However, there were some, such as Sister Elspeth, who looked disapproving. The older woman folded her arms across a flat bosom and fixed Leanna with a stern stare.
Leanna ignored her. Sister Elspeth had never been a friend of hers. More often than not the nun wore a sour look, as if the whole world offended her. She’d disliked Sister Ella, and as Leanna had been close to her, she had also received Sister Elspeth’s jaundiced eye.
“Ye are yet a novice,” Sister Elspeth greeted her. “It is not seemly for ye to go riding off … with a company ofmen.” The nun spoke that last word with clear distaste. Her gaze shifted then, to the group of horses that were being saddled outside the stables near the gates. “A sister with true devotion to the Lord would remain here.”
