Page 66 of Fallen
The outlaw leader—who’d been talking to the abbess in a low voice, his hands wrapped around a goblet of wine—glanced up at Coira’s arrival. His gaze rested upon her, lingering for a heartbeat longer than was necessary, and heat rushed to Coira’s cheeks in response. Fighting down the instinct to adjust her clothing or check her hair, she crossed the flagstone floor to the hearth and lowered herself onto a stool.
“Good eve, Coira,” Mother Shona greeted her with a tired smile. She rose to her feet, placed her goblet on the mantelpiece above the fire, and poured a third goblet, passing it to Coira. “How are yer patients?”
“They all worsen,” Coira replied. “I don’t think Sister Morag will last the night.” Her words were bald in their honesty, yet she was too weary to soften them. “The illness has attacked her lungs.”
Coira’s attention shifted to Craeg then, to find him watching her. The warmth in her cheeks intensified. She hadn’t gotten used to being ‘seen’. Indeed, her habit had provided a shield from men’s eyes. “Have Gunn and Fenella arrived yet?”
He shook his head. “It’s too soon … they’ll be here tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
Coira glanced back at the abbess. “I tried out a new treatment with an outlaw woman … if it was successful, I should like to try it here.”
Mother Shona nodded. “We are lucky to have yer skills, Coira. The Lord has indeed blessed us.”
Coira offered the abbess a weak smile in reply and lifted the goblet to her lips, taking a gulp of wine. It was rich and smooth, not at all what she expected. Her eyebrows raised. “This is good.”
The abbess’s mouth quirked. “Aye … I was saving it for a special occasion. Now seems appropriate.”
Coira’s smile faded. “I can’t believe ye are sending the nuns away … it seems so … drastic.”
Mother Shona sighed. “Drastic … but necessary. If there had been another path, I’d have taken it.”
“But—”
“Enough talk of this.” The abbess waved her silent. “I’ve already gone over and over this with Sister Elspeth. My mind is made up … and it’s for the best. Now, ye must focus upon yer own futures.”
27
Undone
“KILBRIDE WILL CLOSE for the moment,” Mother Shona continued. She crossed the hall to her desk, where a platter of food awaited. It was simple fare—bread, cheese, and boiled eggs—yet Coira’s mouth watered at the sight of it.
She was starving, so hungry in fact that she couldn’t summon the effort to argue with Mother Shona. It was clear the woman wouldn’t be moved.
I’ll speak to her alone tomorrow.
The abbess carried the platter across to them and set it on a low table within easy reach of them all. She then helped herself to some food and took her seat. Mother Shona ignored her companions as she began to peel an egg.
Wordlessly, seeing that the conversation had halted for the moment, Craeg and Coira helped themselves to supper. Coira took a large bite of bread and cheese, forcing herself to chew properly before swallowing. Likewise, Craeg ate with the appetite of a famished hound, inhaling two huge slices of bread and cheese, before he eventually broke the silence between the three of them.
“Someone will have to let MacKinnon’s kin know he’s dead,” Craeg said, his voice heavy. “I suppose I should send word to his sister in Dunan.”
The abbess glanced up, her gaze spearing him. “Yersister. This land needs a new clan-chief, Craeg … and ye are MacKinnon’s closest surviving male relative.”
Craeg’s face went taut, his gaze shuttering. “What?”
“Don’t pretend ye don’t understand me or that ye haven’t thought on the possibility before.” The abbess lowered the slice of bread she’d been about to take a bite of. Her face developed that steely look Coira knew only too well. “Ye are a born leader … and the people of the MacKinnon territory need someone to guide them, especially now when times are bleak.”
“I can’t become clan-chief.” Craeg’s voice turned rough, his green eyes hard.
However, the abbess wasn’t a woman easily intimidated. “Why not … ye are MacKinnon’s brother?”
“I’m hisbastardbrother.”
“It matters not. Blood is blood.”
“It matters to me!”
Coira cleared her throat. She sensed an argument brewing; something she really didn’t have the stomach for tonight. “Would the folk of Dunan ever accept Craeg as heir?” she asked the abbess.
