Page 34 of Claimed
Drew’s throat thickened then. Aye, Carr was right. But with this woman as her mother, was it any surprise? Part of her had hoped that she’d arrive at Inishial to find her mother changed, that life in the priory might have softened her somehow. But it had not. If anything, it had made her even bitterer.
“Does thatbastardstill rule Dunan?” Her mother said then, her mouth pursing.
Drew inclined her head. “Craeg?”
“Who else do ye think I’d be referring to?”
“Aye … he’s now the MacKinnon clan-chief.”
Sister Lorna’s face went taut at this admission, and she hurriedly crossed herself. “Ill news, indeed,” she muttered. “Yer father would turn in his grave to see such a day.”
Drew held her tongue, although she had the urge to point out that Craeg MacKinnon wouldn’t exist if it hadn’t been for her father’s dalliances. Instead, she favored her mother with a wintry smile. “Craeg is an able clan-chief … a far better one than Duncan ever was. The people love him.”
The nun’s step faltered at this, her grey eyes turning hard. “How dare ye?” she hissed, and her hand actually raised as if she wished to strike Drew across the face. Drew didn’t flinch away. If her mother dared hit her, she’d return the gesture. “Yer brother was the rightful ruler of Dunan,” Sister Lorna snarled. “Not this … thiswhoreson.”
“Duncan made a poor clan-chief … and don’t pretend that ye liked him,” Drew countered. “We all knew why ye left. Once Da died, ye were afraid of what Duncan might do … for ye knew he hated ye. And ye were right, he did.”
Sister Lorna’s head jerked back, as if Drew had indeed just slapped her. She moved back a few paces, her shoulders rounded, her face a mask of fury.
“Ye will learn to curb that viper’s tongue here,” she hissed, her gaze gleaming with spite. “I have told the prioress of yer wickedness, and she’s promised me that she will make ye penitent by the year’s end.”
With that, Sister Lorna spun on her heel and stalked toward the dark bulk of the dormitories, her spine as stiff as an outraged cat.
Drew watched her go, suddenly rooted to the spot.
Her mother was wrong; she already regretted her sins. She didn’t know what had possessed her to throw Duncan’s hate in her mother’s face. Perhaps she too had a latent need for vengeance, for a chance to get even with this cold, cruel woman.
A sickly sensation rose in Drew’s throat. The problem with revenge though, was that the pleasure it brought was short-lived.
I’m turning into her.The thought made her shudder. This was what bitterness did. It poisoned.In a few years, that will be me.
Even now, the warmth that Carr Broderick had brought her during this journey, the joy, was starting to fade. Once again, he was right. She was a prisoner of her own fears. For a few short days, she had seen what life could be like if she had the courage to leave the past behind—yet she’d turned her back on it, on him.
Her mother had almost reached the door to the dormitory, and Drew knew that she should go after her, should bend her head and ask forgiveness for her angry words.
But, once again, she couldn’t summon the will. It was as if her limbs had turned to stone.
Carr poked the embers with a stick, watching as a spray of sparks shot up into the night. He’d found a dry birch branch for his fire, but it wasn’t throwing out much heat. The air was damp and cold tonight—although it was nothing like the chill in his heart.
It felt as if a lump of ice had settled there and would never dislodge.
She’s not coming.
Carr didn’t want to admit it to himself, and he’d tried to cling onto hope ever since riding away from the priory, but as the night wore on, the truth was becoming clear.
She’s not coming, and I’m a fool.
Aye, he was a fool alright, but he’d been a hopeful one. Carr shoved the stick into the embers again, sending more sparks shooting into the heavens. He’d had to take the risk. He’d had to know that all hope was lost.
And now he did.
Muttering a curse, Carr scrubbed a fist over his face. His chest, belly, and head all hurt. He’d ripped himself open before Drew, and he’d been brutally honest with her out there before the gates of the priory.
She probably hates me now.
He couldn’t believe how roughly he’d spoken to her. He’d told her she was a coward, for pity’s sake. Did he really think that was going to win her over?
If it wasn’t the middle of the night, he’d pack up right now and ride away.
