Senga spotted Noah, and her chest warmed. He grinned at her, shuffling up on the wooden bench to make room for her.
“There ye are,” he whispered. “I waited to get drunk before ye got here.”
She snorted. “Ye are kindness itself.”
“I thought so. Now. Ale?”
“Aye, I’ll have ale.”
She took a sip, leaning against his shoulder and closing her eyes.
“What are ye thinking?” Noah murmured, his voice soft and his breath warm against her ear.
“I was just wondering what we’ll do with our time now that there’s no Clan Murray. After the celebrations are over and life is back to normal. I couldn’t decide myself,” she confessed. Senga thought it over for a long moment. “We could travel,” she said at last. “The Highlands are beautiful, but the world is wide. There’s a lot to see.”
Noah gave a slow smile. “Aye, I like that idea. And I like yer way of looking at it.The world is wide.I’ve never even left Scotland. We could go to England?”
She pulled a face. “We might as well. It’s a good place to start, but we’ll go further afield, aye? Go across thesea. What do ye think of that?”
“I think that it’s a grand plan for a woman who once never thought of leaving her convent,” Noah teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her head.
Senga chuckled, closing her ears. The warmth and pleasant noise of the feasting room caught her, lulling her almost to sleep.
Of course, sleep wasnevergoing to come at a time like this, in a place like this.
“I wish the Abbess could see all of this,” Senga murmured.
Noah snorted. “I am quite sure that she can see. And hear, too.”
“She never did miss a trick.”
Changes had been made in the Highlands. Struan was Laird Dickson now, and Una was Lady Dickson. Kyla was happy enough to release her claim to the title, content with her books, her husband, and her unborn baby.
More and more guests came in, crowding the already full seats with more people. Chatter and laughter filled the air, people jostling for room and leaning across the table to speak to friends and acquaintances.
Senga was happy to stay quiet, leaning against Noah and letting it all wash over her.
Then Brendan rose to his feet again, his fingers laced in his wife’s, and yelled for quiet.
“I think we are all here now,” he said, laughing, “so perhaps it’s time to offer a toast. We have much to be thankful for, but we have a great deal of work to be done. I can think of nobody better than the woman to whom we owe all of our thanks.”
His expression turned serious, and he lifted his goblet towards the end of the table.
All eyes turned towards the end of the table, Senga’s included.
“Abbess,” Brendan murmured, his tone turning reverential, “will ye speak to us?”
A hush fell over the table.
Senga craned her neck, tightening her grip on Noah’s hand.
A slowtap-tapapproached the wide-open doors of the feasting room, and a woman came limping into sight.
The Abbess.
She paused in the doorway, then shuffled forward to where a space had been left for her at the head of the table.
She always did love to make an entrance,Senga reminded herself, biting back a smile.
