Page 13 of Fallen
The abbot’s blank look told them all that the clan-chief had not.
“Sister Leanna’s father died, and she was going to his burial when MacKinnon’s men abducted her.” The abbot’s face tensed at this, his dark gaze narrowing, yet Mother Shona pressed on. “He took a novice nun against her will back to Dunan, where he planned to wed her. Sister Leanna managed to escape, and we haven’t heard from her since.” The abbess paused there, letting her words sink in. “I can assure ye, we had nothing to do with her disappearance. It saddens me greatly that we have lost such a devoted sister.”
Father Camron watched the abbess, high spots of color appearing upon his already florid cheeks. “MacKinnon said none of this to me.”
Mother Shona’s expression grew grave. “That doesn’t surprise me. He wouldn’t wish to cast himself in a poor light.”
Coira watched the abbot’s heavy jaw tighten, although he held his tongue this time. This news clearly shocked him, and she could see he was debating whether to believe the abbess or not.
With a suppressed sigh, Coira dropped her gaze to her half-full bowl of stew.
The man’s company was tiresome at best.
A few years ago, Father Camron had spent three months at the abbey. But during that stay, he’d been a guest, not an inquisitor. And at that time, the relationship between the abbey and the MacKinnon clan-chief hadn’t deteriorated to this level. A heavy sensation settled in the pit of Coira’s belly, dulling her appetite.
She’d joined the order to embrace a life of peace, stability, and order—but the chaos of the outside world was always clawing at the door, seeking a way in.
Craeg watched the nun climb up onto a stool and peg a heavy woolen curtain to the rafters. The thick material blocked out the pale light filtering in from the infirmary’s tiny windows and the glow of the hearth. His stuffy corner of the building was now illuminated only by a guttering candle.
“What are ye doing, Sister?” he asked. The weakness of his voice both shocked and irritated him. It didn’t sound like it belonged to him. He wasn’t used to feeling this physically feeble either.
Finishing her task, Sister Coira stepped down from the stool and turned to him. Her expression was carefully composed, those startling eyes shuttered. “There’s a price on yer head,” she said, her voice low. “And as such, I’m taking precautions.”
“Surely, no one is likely to see me in here,” he pointed out.
“The abbey has visitors at the moment,” the nun informed him coolly, “and we don’t know how long they’ll stay.”
A fluttery sensation rose in Craeg’s gut. The way she’d said the word ‘visitors’ immediately made his hackles rise; years of living as a fugitive had honed his instincts. Craeg attempted to push himself up off his nest of pillows. “I should go,” he grunted. “My band will be wondering what’s become of me, and I don’t want to put ye and the others here at risk.” An instant later a wave of sickly pain crashed over him. Sweating, Craeg sank back down onto the pillows. “Maybe not … just … yet. Looks like ye might have to put up with me a bit longer.”
Sister Coira’s mouth compressed as she eyed him. “Aye, ye are in no fit state to be going anywhere.”
“These visitors,” he wheezed. “Who are they?”
The nun’s gaze met his. “The Abbot of Crossraguel Abbey … he’s here to investigate the abbess’s conduct.”
Craeg frowned as he struggled to focus on her words. The pain in his side was starting to subside although his body still quivered in its memory. “Really? What has she done to warrant that?”
Sister Coira let out a slow exhale, and he sensed her wariness around him. However, he wasn’t about to push her. If she didn’t want to speak openly, he understood. “There have been a few … incidents … here over the past year,” Sister Coira admitted finally. She folded her arms across her chest then, an unconscious defensive gesture. “Two nuns have left the order in … questionable circumstances.”
Craeg cocked his head. “Now I’m curious.”
“Aye, well some things are best not discussed.”
The clipped tone of her voice didn’t put him off. Instead, it merely intrigued him further. “Ye can’t just leave it there.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Can’t I?”
They watched each other for a long moment, and Craeg suddenly became acutely aware of every detail of the woman standing before him. The voluminous black habit she wore, along with the veil and wimple that shrouded everything except her face, did their best to cancel out her femininity. And yet he saw beyond the austerity of her clothing. She was tall, which he liked, and the generous swell of her breasts was evident despite the heavy material of the habit.
But it was her face that drew him in. The blend of strength, vulnerability, and sensuality in her features.
What a pity she’s a nun, he mused. Life had been a fight for a survival of late, and there had been no time for women. Yet he’d never met one that intrigued him like this Sister of Kilbride did.
“Around a month ago, I met a young woman who claimed she’d been a nun here at Kilbride,” he said finally, shattering his silent appreciation. “Her name was Leanna.”
Sister Coira’s lips parted, her gaze widening. “Where did ye see her?”
“She was fleeing Dunan … with the aid of Ross Campbell,” Craeg replied, his gaze steady as it continued to hold hers. “They entered the valley not far from where my band camped, and we hosted them for a night.” He paused there, aware that her expression had turned stern. Craeg made a face. “Worry not, I didn’t take them prisoner … although I made an error of judgement during their stay that cost me dearly.” His chest constricted then as he remembered the mess Brochan had made. He should have seen that coming. “One of my men tried to use Leanna and Ross to blackmail my brother … and everything went to hell.”
