“Something’s bothering you,” Braden said, as he emerged with a second turkey leg. He waved it toward the hearth, indicating they should make their way over to it. “’Tis the only reason you do not sleep, cousin. What is it?”
Roddy ran his free hand down his face as they settled in front of the hearth, its embers still warm. “I had another nightmare.”
“About dying?”
“Aye, dying and drowning,” he replied, exasperated. Though he had only recently shared his shame with Connor, he’d told Braden a while back, after his friend met Cairstine. He’d needed to tell someone. “I cannot shake this fear of dying. I do not understand it. I could have lost my life to that boar earlier. I was paralyzed with fear. The boar was ready to go for my neck and I froze.” He attacked the turkey leg as though it had caused all his problems.
“But you regained your senses and killed the beast, did you not?”
He sighed, unable to explain how helpless—and useless—he’d felt in that moment. “Aye, but I did it on reflex. It might have gone verra differently. If I don’t figure out a solution to my problem, I’ll have to request to be taken off the traveling warrior group. I’m afraid I’ll not be of any help to anyone. I cannot explain how powerless I become in those moments.”
“Do you have something else on your mind that’s keeping you from focusing clearly?” The look in Braden’s eyes told him his cousin thought he already had the answer.
He took the last bite of the turkey leg and dropped it onto the table in front of him, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Aye, you’re not wrong. I hardly know Rose, but I cannot get her out of my mind.” He tugged on the lock of hair that insisted on falling forward into his eyes.
“Have you seen her again?” They’d arrived at Braden’s castle late, after he and his family were abed, and both had been too disturbed by the incident with the boars to seek an audience with their cousin. They’d agreed to do so the next morn.
“Nay, but—”
Braden held up a hand. “Mayhap the story will go down better with some mead.” He had finished his own turkey leg, and he took the rubbish to the kitchens and returned with two goblets of mead, handing one to Roddy before he sat down to listen.
“She wasn’t there when we returned to the castle,” Roddy said. “Her mother informed us she had taken her to Sona Abbey to take her vows.” Roddy could tell by the expression on Braden’s face that he was as surprised as they had been at this information. “Aye,” he continued. “Her mother said she went to the abbey willingly. That she wishes to become a nun. She’s in training.”
Roddy rubbed his hands together, waiting to see his cousin’s reaction.
Braden whistled. “’Tis a tough situation. But if you wish to talk with her, you should seek her out.”
“Our next stop was the abbey. They claimed she wasn’t there, but I fear they may be holding her there against her will.”
“And so you left?” Braden’s gaze narrowed on him.
“What else was I to do? We needed to finish our mission of searching the area for other possible places for the Channel.”
“Let me explain something to you. I had a bad feeling about Greer Lamont and his wife, or the woman I thought was his wife.”
“Cairstine.”
“Aye, Cairstine. I didn’t like the way he treated her when I first saw them together. And there was something about Cairstine that grabbed me. So I followed them. I waited until Lamont was out of sight before talking to her. She was still guarded, but I understood why. Steenie was with her. The lad had too much fear in his gaze to suit me. Still, she refused my assistance and returned to Muir Castle.”
“But you didn’t let that stop you.” Roddy knew exactly where his cousin was going with this tale. Greer Lamont had controlled Cairstine and their son, Steenie, with an iron fist. She’d been too afraid to leave him—and she hadn’t wanted to abandon her castle to the man.
“Nay, I did not. Had I ignored my gut feeling, had I stepped away from her, she would not be my wife now. She would still be a prisoner in her own castle.”
“So what should I do?” Roddy asked, getting out of his chair to start pacing, his fingers still playing with the lock of hair that would not stay put.
“Find a way to sneak in and search the premises,” Braden said. “Daniel sent word that he’ll arrive on the morrow. We’ll bring him with us. There will be four of us. We can find out if she’s there, and if she’s not, we’ll find out where she is. We have to uncover anything we can about the Channel of Dubh. We won’t have much time, but we can do what we can for Rose.”
“And if I find her? What do I do? Kidnap her? What if she doesn’t wish to come with me? There is a wee communication issue between us.” Was he daft to be this entranced by a lass who couldn’t speak with him?
“Nay, you’ll not kidnap her until we have a slew of warriors there to protect us. First you must find out if she’s being kept there against her will. Then we must find out why. We also need to find out how many guards they keep at the abbey. ’Tis an abbey, so we must be verra careful. But this abbey and the abbey south are the only two possibilities we have at this point. One or both of them could be part of the Channel. Once we have all the information we need, we’ll return to Clan Grant and make a plan. You’ll get no support from Uncle Alex without answers.”
Roddy thought about everything his cousin had said, then nodded his agreement. “Aye, you speak wisely, Braden. We’ll await Daniel’s arrival, then go back.”
“You feel better already, do you not? Now that the decision has been made.”
He smiled. “Aye, I do feel much better.”
“Then follow your hunches about Rose MacDole.”
***
Rose stared into her friend’s eyes. How she wished she could ask her friend what she meant. Did she know that God made her bleed every month? Did she know what kind of sin she’d committed to make it so?
“I have my courses, too. ’Tis why I’m here,” Constance said, pulling Rose down to sit on the bed next to her. “I get terrible cramps every month. I moan in my sleep.” She continued to hold Rose’s hand. “Do you have cramps, too?”
Rose shook her head no, squeezing Constance’s hand to let her know she felt badly about her cramps.
“I hate it, but all lasses go through it. There’s naught we can do to stop it, though they do cause me terrible pain,” she said, holding her belly to show her where the pain was the worst. “Right here is the pain. Constant.” Then she looked at Rose. “I hate the bleeding worst of all. ’Tis disgusting, is it not?”
Rose was so excited she didn’t know what to ask first. She’d believed her mother without question, thinking all along that the bleeding was her punishment for being weak and bad.
Taking her time, Rose traced the word “mother” on the bed. Then she imitated kissing, hoping her friend would comprehend her meaning. Lastly, she pointed to her feminine parts.
Constance frowned, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry, Rose, but what would kissing have to do with your courses? You’re not married, so I don’t think you did what married couples do.”
Rose mouthed the word “bad.” Then she pursed her lips in a kiss again.
Constance grinned and whispered, “I don’t think kissing is bad. With the right lad, ’tis quite nice. I kissed one boy I really liked. His lips were warm and sweet and he held me in his arms as though he’d never let me go.” Her eyes lit up with the memory. “He was so nice, but he returned to England.”
Rose mouthed, “God?”
Her friend shook her head. “God wouldn’t think kissing is bad. God wants couples to marry and have children. Kissing is part of love. It’s how you know if you and the lad you fancy suit. Who told you that?”
She mouthed the word “mother.”
“Oh, Rose. Are you saying that your mother told you that God thinks you’re bad for kissing a boy?”
Nodding frantically, Rose pointed again to her female parts.
Rose wanted so badly to explain the entire situation to her friend. Who else could she talk to about it? This entire fabricated tale had come from someone who should have loved her. Someone she should have been able to trust.
Rose picked up a book beside the bed, and her hands flew from word to word, from picture to picture, as she tried to explain everything to her friend.
After watching Rose for a few minutes, Constance finally stopped her by grasping her shoulder. “Rose, are you saying your mother told you that you bleed every month because you were caught kissing a boy? That kissing is bad, and God is punishing you by making you bleed?”
Rose closed her eyes and fell onto the bed with exhaustion. She nodded briefly, sighing with relief that her friend had understood her. Then, wanting to express one final thought, she sat up and pointed to the picture of the abbey on the wall.
“And she sent you here because she thinks you were bad?” Constance said with a gasp. “Not because you wish to be a nun?”
Rose nodded, tears running down her face.
Constance pulled her up to stand. She embraced her, then pulled back so she could explain everything to Rose without being overheard. She whispered, “Nay, those are lies. Mayhap you misunderstood what she was telling you, but ’tis not true at all.” She pointed back and forth to the pictures and words, shaking her head vehemently. “We only bleed because Eve…never mind. I’ll explain that to you later.” She paused for a moment while she gripped Rose’s hands. “Do you know how babies are made?”
Rose shook her head.
“We have much to discuss, my friend. But that can wait until another day. I’m tired.” She pointed to her bed. “Sleep now?” she put her hands together next to her head and closed her eyes. “We’ll talk more on the morrow?”
Rose nodded. She needed time to process all she’d just learned. She gave Constance a squeeze, made the sign they’d agreed upon to mean “thank you,” then moved to her own bed.
Twenty minutes later, she was still awake. She listened to Constance’s soft, rhythmic breathing, telling her that her friend was sound asleep. Rose stared at the ceiling, an unusual feeling coursing through her, very different than anything she’d ever experienced before.
Instead of fear, she felt strength.
Instead of doubt, she felt confidence.
Instead of feeling anxious, she felt calm.
Her mother had lied to her. She’d created a cruel story to justify mistreating her and sending her off to the abbey.
And she’d done it all with a smile and a gleam in her eyes.
When she was certain Constance was sound asleep, Rose climbed out of bed and moved over to the small window, staring up at the nearly full moon and the surrounding stars. In that moment, she made a vow to herself.
She would never be weak again, nor would she bend to her mother’s will.
Rose MacDole had just been reborn as a woman of strength and conviction.
A woman who had a plan.
It was about time she used her disability to her advantage. Though she was still confused by her mother’s motivations for treating her so cruelly, she clearly had a reason for wanting to get Rose out of the castle. She’d find out. She’d become a spy to all that took place whenever her mother was around. Perhaps she’d sneak out one night, borrow a horse, and spy on her mother, or go to the caves and see if there were any more boats. Something odd was taking place near MacDole Castle, and she hated to admit it, but she suspected her mother knew all about it. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of someone sneaking around in the gardens below the window.
About to start her new mission, she made the decision to begin by sneaking out of the infirmary.
Who was slinking about in the gardens?
Chapter Nine
Roddy took a deep breath, staring up at the moon, wondering if there was too much moonlight for their venture. Daniel had arrived yesterday. They had informed him of the situation, they’d all searched the area the next morning, and now they were returning to the abbey. Daniel had insisted they wait until nightfall.
Connor and Braden had agreed to patrol the periphery of the abbey. Daniel would join him inside the abbey. Roddy only hoped his nickname, Ghost, would prove accurate.
“Ghost, you lead the way,” he said, “I’ve not done much spy work.” He couldn’t stop one side of his mouth from curling up. Perhaps instead of being a warrior he could work for the Scottish Crown like Maggie and Will did. They weren’t true spies. Their purpose was to carry out instructions made by King Alexander, who was dealing with so many family matters that he wasn’t often heard from of late. At least as a spy, he wouldn’t need to face death regularly.
Daniel said, “You must be like a deer—graceful yet quick.”
“Uncle Logan is graceful and quick?” he asked with a snort. The last thing word he would use to describe the man was graceful. He was more like a bull, stomping and grunting his way through everything.
“Nay, not like Uncle Logan. Have you ever watched Aunt Gwyneth? She runs like a deer and is as graceful as any dancer. Uncle Logan wouldn’t be much of a spy without her. You must travel without being seen or heard. ’Tis the trick.”
“I’ll do my best. Where do we start?” They stood outside a fence near the rear of the abbey. The curtain wall didn’t extend all the way around the abbey. The only barrier was a tall fence, which would make their task that much easier.
“This is easy to climb,” Daniel said. “Better than a curtain wall, though that hedge may be a bastard to get through. I’d say the lasses probably sleep on the second floor and the monks in one of the separate buildings. What’s in the building outside the fence? Do you know?”
“That building houses guests. You don’t want to go inside. Trust me.”
“Then we ignore it. We’d do best to start at opposite ends and move toward the middle. So the lass won’t be able to talk to us, eh? It must be a struggle for her to communicate. ’Tis unfortunate or she could spy for us on the inside of the abbey.”
Roddy glanced down at Daniel’s arm, the one he’d lost below the elbow to a sword injury at a young age. “You’ve learned to get along with your issues. Can she not do the same?”
“Well said, my friend. I’ll start at the front because ’twill be a wee bit difficult getting past the guards. You go to the garden in the back and see if you can find a window to climb into. Meet me back at this location in one half hour.”
Roddy nodded. “Godspeed.”
He watched as Daniel sprinted away without making a sound or moving a blade of grass. Graceful as a deer, indeed. When Daniel slipped out of sight, Roddy proceeded through the garden to one of the trees, hoping he could climb it to gain access to the second floor. The garden, full of flowering vines, fragrant fruit trees, and well-placed benches, would be quite beautiful during the day.
He’d just made it to the tree when he heard a door open not far away, one well hidden behind the hedge bushes. He froze, hiding as best he could, but his future as a spy was clearly ill-fated—he’d barely managed to conceal himself when a young lass emerged from the door, closing it silently behind her.
Rose.
He would know her profile anywhere. Not wishing to frighten her, he waited until she was nearly by him before stepping out in front of her.
He startled her, but her face broke into a wide grin instantly, something that pleased him immensely. He couldn’t stop a smile from rising on his own face. He held his hand out to her, hoping she would take it, but instead she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around him in a most unladylike bear hug.
When he broke away, he whispered, “Are you hale?”
She nodded, rubbing her hands up and down his arms, showing him how glad she was to see him.
He took her by the hand and led her away from the abbey to a bench at the edge of the large
garden. Though it was dark, the moon was bright enough to guide them. Once he sat down and she nestled in close, he whispered, “I have so many things I wish to ask you. Someday, I’ll teach you how to read and write. Most of my cousins know because my aunt Maddie insisted on teaching all of us.”
Out of nowhere, a tousled head popped up from the plants near the doorway Rose had used to leave the abbey. Rose wasn’t bothered at all, instead waving the lass closer to them. He lifted her gaze with a finger under her chin. “Do you know her?”
“Aye,” the girl said as she came closer. “I’m her friend, Constance.” She set her hand on Rose’s arm until she had her attention, then asked, “Does he know the truth?”
Rose nodded, her eyes misting.
“Know the truth about what? I came because I wish to know if she’s here against her will.”
“Hush, and I’ll tell you what she’s told me. First, you know she can hear, correct?”
“Aye, she told me that already. But I have many questions I’d like answered.”
Rose patted his hand, tugged on his earlobe, and pointed to Constance. Listen. “Go ahead,” he said.
Constance began, “Rose joined us about a sennight ago. I’ve been teaching her how to read, and we’ve also made up some of our own signs for words. I’ve also been able to use picture books to help Rose get her words across.”
He squeezed Rose’s shoulder and said, “Good.”
“We just had quite a conversation, if you will. Rose’s mother saw her kissing a lad some time ago, and she made her think that it was bad. She said God would punish her, and then…” She paused. “Are you the lad?”
Rose held both of her hands up, palms facing out, shaking them to indicate he was not the lad. He couldn’t help but wonder who it had been. A sudden feeling of jealousy surged through him. But he forced himself to pay attention to the matters at hand since he didn’t have much time.
Highland Lies (The Band of Cousins Book 4) Page 8
