his mount
to move faster, he straightened away from her ear and growled. “As ye wish.”
Every moment spent between them in silence echoed like a drum in Rob’s ears. Whatever secrets Davina knew, she’d made it clear
that she was not going to tell them to him. He knew she couldn’t be happy about going to another convent, one without an army,
but she would rather see him off than tell him the truth. He would have found such courage admirable if he wasn’t so offended.
At the campsite, he’d found it endearing that she lied to him for his “safety.” But the truth was always right there in her
eyes—always present when she spoke to him. She didn’t trust him, even though he’d risked his life to save her. He was surprised
that it should prick his anger so. She had no reason to trust him, but he wanted her to.
Still, how could she when he was delivering her to more nuns instead of taking her to the only place she would be truly safe?
Hell, he couldn’t bring her to Camlochlin. Doing so would likely lead her enemies there.
He gritted his teeth against the bracing wind and all the uncertainties roiling within him. He knew what he should do—drop
her off and get the hell away from her before there was an army on his arse. But how could he run and still claim the right
to be called Chief someday? Fleeing from the unknown was cowardly. But more than that, Rob didn’t want to leave her. The thought
of it, her suggestion of it, made him want to wrap her in his plaid and head for Camlochlin.
Had Asher loved her? God help the man if he had, for losing one’s heart to this lass would cost a man much. Did she love him
in return?
Why the hell should he care? The man was dead, after all. Besides that, even if two armies hadn’t fought over her—even if
she hadn’t promised her life to God—which he now believed she had—the last thing Rob needed in his life right now was a lass.
He worked all day with his father and practiced his fighting skills at night. He had no time for wooing, and even less inclination
to do so. But damn him, the way her expression softened with affection when she spoke of the captain made Rob’s jaw clench.
Jealousy was a useless emotion and one that Rob had never wasted his time on. He might as well be jealous of God for binding
Davina to Him. May the Almighty strike him dead if he ever became
that
pathetic.
Asher was a fool to fall in love with her, and had paid the price for it. Rob would not make the same error.
Chapter Eight
T he cross above the bell tower of Courlochcraig Abbey rose high over the old town of Ayr, casting shadows on the five faces
looking up at it.
Rob surveyed the perimeter carefully while Colin dismounted and swung open the heavy iron gate that barred their entrance.
The Abbey sat perched atop an old motte and bailey foundation, probably built in the days before the Norman invasion. From
the vantage point along the tower, one could see in every direction, from the majestic peaks of Arran to the Mull of Kintyre
behind. There were few trees to obscure the presence of an enemy, and the Auld Brig, being the main crossing into the port
town, was well in sight. He had no army, but at least he could see one coming for leagues.
“Rob?”
He cut his sharp gaze to his brother standing beside the gate, waiting for him to bring Davina through.
“The Abbess approaches.” Colin gestured toward a tall, thin woman exiting the convent with four other nuns hurrying to keep
up. All were garbed from foot to crown in gray and white habit, arms folded across their waists, hands tucked into their wide
sleeves.
Women, Rob reminded himself glumly. Who would protect them if Davina’s enemies found her here?
“Good day, Mother,” Colin greeted with a reverential bow.
The Abbess stepped past the young Highlander without a glance in his direction. Her gray eyes were as pale and as cool as
the stone walls behind her, and they were
to move faster, he straightened away from her ear and growled. “As ye wish.”
Every moment spent between them in silence echoed like a drum in Rob’s ears. Whatever secrets Davina knew, she’d made it clear
that she was not going to tell them to him. He knew she couldn’t be happy about going to another convent, one without an army,
but she would rather see him off than tell him the truth. He would have found such courage admirable if he wasn’t so offended.
At the campsite, he’d found it endearing that she lied to him for his “safety.” But the truth was always right there in her
eyes—always present when she spoke to him. She didn’t trust him, even though he’d risked his life to save her. He was surprised
that it should prick his anger so. She had no reason to trust him, but he wanted her to.
Still, how could she when he was delivering her to more nuns instead of taking her to the only place she would be truly safe?
Hell, he couldn’t bring her to Camlochlin. Doing so would likely lead her enemies there.
He gritted his teeth against the bracing wind and all the uncertainties roiling within him. He knew what he should do—drop
her off and get the hell away from her before there was an army on his arse. But how could he run and still claim the right
to be called Chief someday? Fleeing from the unknown was cowardly. But more than that, Rob didn’t want to leave her. The thought
of it, her suggestion of it, made him want to wrap her in his plaid and head for Camlochlin.
Had Asher loved her? God help the man if he had, for losing one’s heart to this lass would cost a man much. Did she love him
in return?
Why the hell should he care? The man was dead, after all. Besides that, even if two armies hadn’t fought over her—even if
she hadn’t promised her life to God—which he now believed she had—the last thing Rob needed in his life right now was a lass.
He worked all day with his father and practiced his fighting skills at night. He had no time for wooing, and even less inclination
to do so. But damn him, the way her expression softened with affection when she spoke of the captain made Rob’s jaw clench.
Jealousy was a useless emotion and one that Rob had never wasted his time on. He might as well be jealous of God for binding
Davina to Him. May the Almighty strike him dead if he ever became
that
pathetic.
Asher was a fool to fall in love with her, and had paid the price for it. Rob would not make the same error.
Chapter Eight
T he cross above the bell tower of Courlochcraig Abbey rose high over the old town of Ayr, casting shadows on the five faces
looking up at it.
Rob surveyed the perimeter carefully while Colin dismounted and swung open the heavy iron gate that barred their entrance.
The Abbey sat perched atop an old motte and bailey foundation, probably built in the days before the Norman invasion. From
the vantage point along the tower, one could see in every direction, from the majestic peaks of Arran to the Mull of Kintyre
behind. There were few trees to obscure the presence of an enemy, and the Auld Brig, being the main crossing into the port
town, was well in sight. He had no army, but at least he could see one coming for leagues.
“Rob?”
He cut his sharp gaze to his brother standing beside the gate, waiting for him to bring Davina through.
“The Abbess approaches.” Colin gestured toward a tall, thin woman exiting the convent with four other nuns hurrying to keep
up. All were garbed from foot to crown in gray and white habit, arms folded across their waists, hands tucked into their wide
sleeves.
Women, Rob reminded himself glumly. Who would protect them if Davina’s enemies found her here?
“Good day, Mother,” Colin greeted with a reverential bow.
The Abbess stepped past the young Highlander without a glance in his direction. Her gray eyes were as pale and as cool as
the stone walls behind her, and they were
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