“Lady Ilisa,” Prioress Matilda rose from behind her desk and walked around it to reach for her.
Her warm embrace had Ilisa blinking back tears.
“We’ve been so worried about you and your family.” The prioress’s wise blue eyes studied her closely. “How do you fare?”
“We are well, thank you.”
“You may go, Sister Maria,” the prioress said to the curious nun. The woman’s hopeful expression fell as the prioress shut the door of her office.
“Sit, please,” she bid Ilisa. “Was it wise of you to venture here? Where are the others?”
“We are all safe. Sophia and Garrick were married and left for England.”
The prioress’s eyes widened with interest and delight. “How lovely. I thought there were some feelings on both sides with them.” She nodded in satisfaction. “That pleases me. And young Alec? He is well?”
“Aye. We’re staying at Hilda’s cottage while Sir Braden recovers. Do you remember him?”
“Of course.” A smile tilted her lips. “Sir Garrick and his two cousins would be difficult to forget.”
Ilisa’s cheeks heated. She’d been embarrassed more often in the past sennight than she had in the past year, and it centered around Braden. How ridiculous. “Chanse escorted Garrick and Sophia to their home but will return afterward.”
“I only heard bits of what was rumored to have occurred at Sir Gilbert’s. I could hardly believe what passed my ears, nor did it make sense.”
Ilisa recounted how she and Sophia had ended up at Sir Gilbert’s keep, that Thomas the butcher had intended to kill her and Sophia along with Sir Gilbert, making it appear that the governor had murdered both of them before dying from injuries they’d inflicted during the supposed fight. Sir Gilbert’s steward had been part of the plot and stabbed Braden in the struggle, but Braden had killed him.
“Braden is recovering?” At Ilisa’s nod, the prioress scowled. “I never cared for the man who served as Sir Gilbert’s steward. Thought himself better than anyone else. I can’t believe he attempted to kill Sir Braden.”
Considering how small the steward was compared to the knight, Ilisa understood her meaning. “We were all shocked. It was a terrible ordeal.”
The prioress reached across the desk to take Ilisa’s hand. “One of many you’ve been through of late. Are you recovering from the fright?”
“Aye. Though I confess I’ve felt terribly unsettled of late.” Ilisa wanted to state the reason but now that she was here, she couldn’t seem to bring herself to do so.
“I think that is only natural. Once again, you’ve had to leave home as your life is in danger. Anyone would be unsettled. I’m so pleased you have Sir Braden to protect you. Or you will, once he’s recovered.”
The image of him in the creek filled her mind, causing her to shift in her seat. She couldn’t imagine living with him when he was any more recovered. “He is up and about, longing to train and rebuild his strength.”
“Ah.” The light of interest in Prioress Matilda’s eyes surprised her. “That must be a sight to behold.” As she caught Ilisa’s stare, the older woman grinned. “I might be a prioress, but I’m a woman first.”
Ilisa appreciated her honesty. “The past few days have not been easy.”
“How so?” the prioress asked. “Is he making you uneasy in some way?”
“Aye.” Her answer released with a breath. “I mean, nay. I don’t worry about my safety or any such thing. ’Tis just that I—” She halted unable to force the words from her lips.
The prioress raised a brow. “You?”
“I think kindly of him.”
“Kindly?”
Why had she ever thought to bring this up? ’Twas far too awkward to discuss. “He is a nice man.”
The prioress leaned back in her chair. “How does that make you feel?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’ve mentioned your aversion to knights. ’Tis logical that once you realized Sir Braden is unlike anyone you encountered before, you might be confused.”
“Oh, I’m very confused.”
The prioress nodded, a small smile curving her lips. “No doubt with time, it will sort itself out.”
“How do you mean?”
“Merely that the longer you spend in his company, the clearer your feelings for him will be.”
“But I don’t have feelings for him,” Ilisa protested, trying not to wince at the lie. “I want him to leave so I can go on with my life.”
The prioress held her gaze. “Unfortunately, your life has once again changed. I don’t see how you can return to the way ’twas before. There’s no going back.”
Ilisa latched onto her statement for dear life. “I don’t want to go back. In fact, that is the reason for my visit. I wanted to advise you that I’m ready for the next step in taking my vows.”
“Oh?”
“Very much. I know this is the best course for me. I look forward to giving my life to God and to service.”
“I see.” She eyed Ilisa closely as though weighing Ilisa’s words. “However, I must decline your wish.”
Hurt struck Ilisa hard. “What? But you said—”
“I said if the time and circumstances were right, taking your vows might be the right path for you. Nothing would please me more than for you to find your way. But making decisions like this one in times of stress is unwise.”
“Please know that I’ve prayed on this for a long time. I assure you ’tis what I want.”
“Ilisa,” she said as she rose and walked around her desk to take Ilisa’s hands to help her rise as well, “I care a great deal for you. So much so, that I don’t want to see you make any decisions you might regret.”
“I won’t. I’m sure of it.” She couldn’t imagine going through the next few weeks without knowing she’d be taking her vows soon. Where did that leave her?
Adrift, where no one wanted her.
“If you haven’t changed your mind after the harvest, we’ll speak on the matter again.” The prioress hugged her tight. “Trust me to have your best interests at heart.”
The lump in Ilisa’s throat prevented her from speaking. She could only nod as a heavy cloak of despair washed over her.
~*~
Braden paced the meadow, his anger building with each step. Ilisa had disappeared soon after they’d broken their fast and had yet to return. The afternoon sun eased toward the horizon. Where could she be?
Alec had come back from fishing, surprised when Braden told him she’d been gone so long. He didn’t know where she’d gone either.
Braden ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the pain the movement caused his shoulder. How could she have gone somewhere and not told either of them? Had something happened to her? Had she been taken, leaving him no way to trace her? Should he attempt entry into Berwick and see if someone had seen her?
He shook his head. That might very well get him caught and then he truly wouldn’t be able to aid her. Yet what choice had she left him?
Though he knew she was uncomfortable around him, whether it was because of that damned kiss or her seeing him in the creek, he didn’t know. Probably both. Did she think it hadn’t caused him unease or a sleepless night?
Well, they had. The whole reason he’d washed was because of their kiss. She’d tasted so sweet and was so appealing. From her long blonde tresses to the caution in her eyes, she twisted him in knots. She was a puzzling mix of fire and ice.
He’d hoped the cold water would bring him to his senses and ease the passion that continually simmered under the surface when she was near. His hope had been dashed when he’d turned to find her watching him, both heat and wariness in her expression.
He well knew his primary duty was to protect her, not to ease his lust with her. But the very idea of doing so sent blood rushing to a part of his body he tried to ignore of late. Not that his efforts were successful.
Ilisa always seemed to say or do the opposite of what
he expected, leaving him frustrated. A vast crevice stood between them. One that he had no idea how to bridge. She despised all he stood for. Nor would he turn away from his oath or his honor. Where did that leave them or the hint of passion they both seemed to feel?
He had to find a way to treat her as nothing more than a lady in need of protection. Why was that so difficult?
As he turned to pace in the opposite direction, she emerged from the trees, her simple brown kirtle whipping about her legs, a dark cloak covering the rest of her, and a bag clutched in her hand.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, relief warring with temper at the sight of her.
She glanced at him no more than a moment, but long enough for him to see her upset. “Away.”
“You cannot leave without telling us where you’re going. How am I to protect you when I don’t know where you are?”
“I’ve done the same thing every day, whether it was to pick berries or forage. What makes this time different?”
“Because you were not picking berries or foraging.” His instincts told him she’d gone farther this day. With a purpose he didn’t know and one she had no intention of telling him.
Alec drew nearer as though intrigued by their conversation.
Ilisa lifted her chin, telling Braden he wasn’t going to like what she said. “I went to St. Mary’s.”
Braden could only stare at her in disbelief. “You do realize someone out there wants you dead?”
“Luckily, they weren’t at the nunnery.” Her sarcasm only angered him further.
“If memory serves me, St. Mary’s isn’t that far from the Berwick gate. You could’ve easily been seen.”
“I kept my hood over most of my face. I saw no one.”
“Just because you didn’t see anyone doesn’t mean they didn’t see you. Did you think you might have been followed? That your actions placed us all in danger?”
Her face paled, and her gaze shifted to Alec. Braden ignored the hurt that caused. Of course, she was worried about her brother. Braden was no one but a sword-wielding murderer to her. What had he expected?
He reined in his temper. Apparently, his recent injury had turned him into a weakling who suddenly had feelings. Chanse would be disgusted with him.
With one last glare at her, he said, “I’ll return shortly.” He strode toward where she’d entered the clearing, wanting to see if anyone had followed her.
“Wait. Where are you going?” she called.
He didn’t bother to answer. If she wanted that level of communication and trust between them, then she should’ve told him of her intent to visit St. Mary’s. He allowed his anger to overcome the weakness that lingered from his injury as he made his way through the woods, frequently pausing to listen as he searched the area.
When he reached the edge of the forest that provided a view of St. Mary’s and Berwick, he stopped, studying the valley below. While relieved no one appeared to have followed her, he knew that could easily come to an end. The longer they remained at Hilda’s, the better the chance was that they’d be discovered.
He needed to come up with a plan—one that would not only protect Ilisa and Alec but would gain further details on why Lord Graham wanted them dead and what he intended to do next.
With a sigh, he retraced his steps, arriving at the cottage winded. And annoyed. The idea that a simple walk made him short of breath proved how far his injury had set him back.
“Well?” Ilisa stood, hands on hips, watching him.
“No one—as of yet.” He emphasized the last part of his statement, making it clear he didn’t believe the danger had passed, and that he was less than pleased with her behavior.
“No one would bother to follow a person whose identity they don’t know.”
Braden’s frustration grew—at her, at himself, at the situation. He strode forward to stand before her. “You don’t know if anyone noticed you or if they followed you.”
“You just said no one did.”
He resisted the urge to shake her. “Have you forgotten what it felt like to be at Sir Gilbert’s mercy?”
“Nay, but I—”
Alec coughed loudly, catching Braden’s notice.
Braden glanced at the lad who tipped his head in the direction just over Braden’s shoulder. He turned, startled to find Hilda standing there, staring at the two of them, a look of amusement on her face.
To think he’d been so distracted by Ilisa that he hadn’t noted the healer’s arrival caused him to scowl. But he quickly masked it to walk over to the healer and relieve her of the large bundle she carried. “Welcome back.”
“Humph.” The old woman, bent with age, peered between him and Ilisa. “Bit of a tift, eh?”
Braden frowned. As per usual, he had no idea what she was saying. Her English peppered with Scottish or Gaelic or whatever it was many of the locals spoke was beyond him. He glanced askance at Ilisa.
“Aye, we’re arguing. Nothing serious.” She glanced at Braden as though wondering if he agreed.
He nodded.
“Let me see yer looves.” Hilda held out her hand, palm up.
Again Braden looked to Ilisa for interpretation. “She wants to see your palms.”
Though uncomfortable what the healer might be about, he set the bundle he’d just taken from her on the ground and held out his hands for her inspection.
“Ah, tch.” She took his hands in hers and ran her fingers along them. “Ye be well lo’ed. No lither fer ye. I see a lick.”
“You’re well loved. No idleness for you. But apparently there’s a thrashing in your future.” Ilisa couldn’t hold back a smile as she delivered the bad news.
Braden had no idea how to respond. The woman continued to examine his palm, her thumb tracing along one line in the center.
“Soon ye’ll feel a splang, then ye’ll know ye’ve found yer neach-gaoil.” She nodded at Ilisa with a sudden grin. “I believe ye already have. Loue is crazed, aye?”
Ilisa’s mouth dropped open, her amusement long gone. “Nay.” She shook her head vehemently then raised her hand and waved it through the air to dismiss Hilda’s words.
“What did she say?” Braden asked, more confused by the moment.
“Nothing.” With one last shake of her head, she stepped forward to retrieve the bag from the ground and marched into the cottage.
Hilda only cackled, patted his hands, then followed Ilisa into the cottage.
“Splang.” Braden repeated, wondering why the words had upset Ilisa. “Neach-gaoil.” They felt awkward on his tongue, and he was certain he didn’t say them correctly.
Alec came to stand beside him, staring at the closed door. “Ilisa didn’t care for that, did she?”
“What did Hilda say?” Braden glanced down at Alec.
“I can’t say for certain. I know little Gaelic. Something about exploring and the next gable.”
Braden pondered the words. If Alec was correct, Braden had no idea what had upset Ilisa so.
“Women.” Alec grinned up at him.
Braden ruffled the lad’s hair, returning the smile. “Indeed. They are a mystery.”
“But we need them more than they need us.”
Braden couldn’t help but laugh at the lad’s reminder. “Remember that always, Alec, and you’ll do well in life.”
Chapter Six
Ilisa unpacked the bag the prioress had sent with her containing meat and cheese, glancing at Hilda as the healer entered the cottage. Ilisa drew a deep breath to hide her upset. They owed the healer more than they could possibly repay after she’d allowed them to stay here. Ilisa had no right to be angry with the woman merely because she made some crazed prediction about Sir Braden and her becoming lovers.
“Sir Braden is not interested in me,” she told Hilda in a tone barely above a whisper. “Nor am I interested in him. This is a temporary arrangement.”
“Aye, fer certain.” Hilda nodded with a knowing smile, which only served to rile Ilisa’s anger
further.
The woman had told Braden he’d feel a splang. A sparkle? Truly? A falsehood, of that Ilisa had no doubt.
Mayhap the word fit what she’d felt during that brief kiss. And mayhap again at the creek when she’d seen him bathing. But truly, it had been surprise more than anything else. She’d most likely feel the same if she kissed any man or came across one naked.
Though try as she might, she couldn’t imagine the same feeling pouring through her with Sir Gilbert instead of Braden in those situations.
Hilda had also said he’d find his beloved, or rather, already had. How could their argument possibly suggest that? What the people of Berwick said was true. Dear Hilda was a loon.
“The way ye two were bickerin’ was as if ye were long married. Sparks a’ flyin’. Splang.”
Ilisa’s hands stilled. “A difference of opinion doesn’t suggest—” She stopped herself mid-sentence. What purpose would be served by arguing with a crazed woman? It didn’t matter what the healer believed, even if it couldn’t be further from the truth. “There is nothing between us.”
“As you say.” Hilda nodded as she assisted in putting away the items, the smile never leaving her lips.
Hilda had brought many needed things, including barley flour, cheese, several loaves of bread, a jug of wine, and some vegetables. The people she helped often paid with supplies.
As they worked, the healer shared the news she’d learned about people Ilisa knew. It was surprising how hearing such day-to-day details made Ilisa feel less isolated and took her mind off recent events.
Braden and Alec had hunted rabbits while Ilisa visited the nunnery. Those, along with the supplies Hilda had brought, made for a wonderful supper and a nice change from fish.
“I heard something else ye might find of interest,” Hilda said as they gathered around the small table to eat.
“Oh?” Ilisa responded.
“Lord Graham’s havin’ a ceilidh.”
At Braden’s questioning look, Ilisa added, “Celebration.” She wasn’t certain how to feel about the news, though she noted Hilda now had Braden’s full attention.
“Lord James Graham?” he asked.
A Knight's Temptation (Falling For A Knight Book 2) Page 6
