Noah gave a decisive nod, straightening up. Senga forced herself to speak.
“I want to go with ye.”
Noah glanced at her sharply, and Brendan frowned.
“I’d rather ye stay here, lass,” he said gently. “The infirmary is filling up, and yer skills?—”
“The convent is the only place that has ever felt like home to me,” she insisted, her voice trembling. “My sisters are there, my friends, the Abbess. I want to go to them. That place was a sanctuary for me when I needed it the most. Let me protect it, please.”
She met Brendan’s eye, glancing between him and Freya. To her horror, Senga found that her throat was tightening, tears pricking at her eyes.
“Very well,” Brendan said at last, and Senga gave a sigh of relief. “We leave soon, though. Be ready.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Before we leave, however,” Noah chipped in, suddenly flushing, “we wondered if ye would… well, I suppose…” He took a breath, glancing over at Brendan. “Senga and I want to be wed.”
There was a brief silence. Then Freya gave a strangled gasp of delight.
“Wed? Oh, that’s wonderful, wonderful!” she cried, clapping her hands. “Senga, I’m so happy!”
Freya rushed around the table, wrapping her arms around her friend. Senga laughed, exhilaration bubbling through her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brendan shaking Noah’s hand, a wide beam on his face.
“A handfasting is all we’ll need,” she explained. “We can do that now, before we leave.”
Moments later,the ceremony was ready. Freya had collected small posies of flowers and herbs for Senga and Noah to hold, and Brendan found a long, black ribbon.
A handfasting was a simple thing, and it seemed exactly what they needed. No more, no less.
Noah held out his hand, palm up. Heart skittering in her chest, Senga laid hers on top of it. His fingers closed around her hand, and she let out a shaky exhale. Brendan stepped forward, winding the ribbon round and round their clasped hands, the ends of the ribbon trailing off along her wrist and his, binding them together. Then he stepped back and stayed silent. Freya took his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.
“I take ye, Senga, to be my wife,” Noah whispered, his eyes finding hers. “I vow to love ye and to protect ye. I will share eachsip of water and each bite of food with ye, if need be. I vow to be yers, for as long as ye will have me.”
Senga let herself smile. It was a wide smile, but tinged with sadness, too.
I never thought I would stand here. I never thought I would see him again. How much longer will our happiness last?
There was no sense in thinking that, however.
“I take ye, Noah, to be my husband,” she responded, her voice wobbling just a little. “I vow to love ye with each breath in my body. I vow to share my secrets with ye, and I vow that I’ll hold my love in my heart till death takes it from me. I vow to be yers, for as long as ye will have me.”
There. It was done. They were bound. Noah gave a short, incredulous laugh, and Senga found herself grinning like a fool. He bent down to kiss her, and Senga eagerly rose up on her toes to meet him.
The council room, Brendan, Freya, and the world itself simply melted away. There was only Senga and the man she loved. Perhaps there had only ever been the two of them.
If I’m destined to die at the convent, at the hands of Laird Dickson or even my own father,Senga thought,then I shall die happy.
Chapter 14
A Nun No More
Struan Dickson eyed the chessboard for a long moment. A lot rested on his next move.
He had a tendency to move too rashly. In his youth, he had played games with his father, but Laird Dickson hated to lose. Struan very quickly learned not to win a game, or else he would soon regret it. He got used to looking for ways to lose.
Not so with the Abbess, though. Her mind was sharp and keen; there was very little she did not miss. She liked to win—after all, who didn’t?—but she would not kick up a fuss if she lost.
Not that he had ever properly beaten her.
