Page 4 of Claimed
“What is it, Drew?” At the end of the table, Craeg put down the wedge of bannock he’d been about to take a bite from, his handsome face tightening.
Not for the first time, Drew marveled at just how much he looked like their dead brother. The same wavy peat-dark hair, arrogant bearing, and chiseled jaw. Yet unlike Duncan, who’d had iron-grey eyes like Drew—a legacy from their mother—Craeg’s eyes were a warm moss-green. He also bore a long, thin scar that stretched down from temple to cheek, narrowly missing his left eye. Duncan had given him that.
His mother must have been a kind woman, for a great sense of humanity tempered the MacKinnon arrogance in Craeg.
No wonder the folk of this land love him.
“It’s a message from my mother,” Drew replied, lowering the parchment.
“Ill tidings?” Coira asked softly.
Drew shook her head and forced a smile. “No, actually … welcome news. She has spoken to the Prioress of Inishail Priory in Argyll … as I’ve asked. And they will admit me as a novice.”
Craeg’s gaze drew wide. “Ye are taking the veil?”
The incredulity in his voice made Drew stiffen. It didn’t surprise her that found the idea preposterous; most folk who knew her well would.
Lady Drew MacKinnon wasn’t the sort of woman one would expect to find in a convent.
“Aye,” she replied calmly.
“But why?” Coira asked. Meeting the woman’s eye, Drew saw the consternation there. Of course, Coira knew what it was to live as a nun—for she’d resided at Kilbride Abbey for a decade—before war and pestilence uprooted her life forever.
Drew inhaled slowly. She was aware then that Craeg and Coira weren’t the only people present staring at her—she could feel Carr Broderick’s gaze boring into her too. Glancing his way, she saw that he wore a stunned expression, as if she’d just slapped him.
Drew’s lips parted. She was about to offer some lie about how much she missed her mother and how the woman had begged her to come join her at Inishail. The words rose within her, but then they choked in her throat.
She cared for these people—the realization jolted through her—and they deserved honesty.
“I never expected to be welcome here after Duncan’s demise,” she said finally. “I thought that ye would cast me out for being his sister.”
“But ye aremysister too,” Craeg reminded her, frowning. “And I am glad of it.”
Drew’s throat thickened as she shook her head. Craeg’s kindness made this harder than she’d expected. “Dunan isyerhome now,” she said, her throat aching, “but I no longer belong in this broch … I haven’t for a while. The truth is that I feel useless here.”
“Of course ye belong here.” Craeg’s frown deepened. “Dunan was yers long before it was mine.”
“Aye, once. But every chamber, every corner, is a reminder of the past,” Drew replied. It was true. She had grown up within these walls, the daughter of a callous father and shrewish mother—and then had lived under her cruel elder brother’s rule for far too long. Duncan MacKinnon’s presence still lingered here, a stain on her conscience.
She had to make a new start elsewhere. As a nun, she could do some good perhaps. Here in Dunan, she felt like an encumbrance, even if Craeg and Coira would never admit as much.
“The last few months have changed me,” Drew admitted with a half-smile. “I feel a stranger within these walls.”
“Give it time,” Craeg said after a pause. Her brother was no longer frowning; he just looked worried. “It might just be the winter’s gloom getting to ye … ye’ll feel different once the weather warms.”
Next to him, Coira watched Drew, a thoughtful expression upon her face. She’d said little since her sister-by-marriage’s news, yet Drew knew that Coira understood how she felt.
Sometimes folk just didn’t fit into their old life anymore.
“Time won’t change how I feel … or my decision,” Drew answered, stubbornness setting in. “The decision has been made. Space has been made for me at Inishail, and I will leave as soon as I’m able.”
Coira’s gaze widened. “So soon … can’t ye wait till the spring thaw at least?”
Drew shook her head. “I’m not fond of farewells … I’d rather not prolong this one.”
Silence fell in the solar. It was another chill morning, and a fire roared in the hearth as the wind whistled against the walls of the broch.
“I will organize an escort for ye,” Craeg said finally, his voice heavy, his gaze shuttered. “I can’t have ye traveling to Argyll alone.”
