"Your hands remember what your mind has forgotten," the older nun had told her."In another life, ye would have been a warrior."
Bella had laughed at that.A warrior.Her, a lady born and bred for embroidery and courtly manners.
But in the practice yard, with a blade in each hand and her body moving through the forms Sister Beatrice taught her, Bella had felt truly alive for the first time since Boyd destroyed her.
She wrapped the knives carefully in cloth and tucked them into the bottom of her traveling case, beneath her spare shifts.Having them close made her feel less powerless.
Less afraid.
A knock sounded at her door."The laird says 'tis time to depart."
Bella took one last look around her cell."Goodbye," she whispered to the small chamber that had been her home for a decade."Thank ye for keeping me safe."
Then she picked up her meagre belongings and walked out, closing the door gently behind her.
***
THE COURTYARD OF ST.Agnes Abbey was bustling with activity as Boyd's men prepared the horses for departure.Boyd gruffly thanked the abbess and the priest.He gifted them both with a pouch of coins for their troubles.
Bella descended the steps slowly, drinking in the sight of the only home she'd known for ten years.
Boyd strode toward her, his expression hard."Where are yer things?My men will load them."
"I have everything here."She gestured to the worn traveling case and small knapsack she carried.
"Where are the rest of yer belongings?"
Bella met his gaze, her chin lifting with that pride he remembered."This is it.All I have."
For a moment, Boyd couldn't speak.He looked from her to the meagre bags and back again, then his brows drew together.
"Surely not," he said in disbelief."Isabella Sutherland with barely two bags to her name?"
He'd meant it as a jab, but the flash of hurt in Bella's eyes made him pause.
"What about all yer precious things?"Boyd pressed."Yer fine dresses?Yer jewels?"
Bella's cheeks flushed."The sisters at St.Agnes do not put stock in such things," she replied, her voice tight."I sold anything of value I had to pay for board and lodgings.My father and Bryce spared only enough for the first year of my stay here."
"What of yer dowry?"
"They would not release it fully until I married."
"How have ye managed to survive with nothing?"
"I took up work as a lay-sister.How else?"She looked genuinely confused he could not fathom it.
Boyd's eyes narrowed as he studied her.He grabbed her hand before she could pull away, turning it palm-up in his larger one.Calluses.
Something about this did not sit right.
Boyd remembered ten years ago, the night he'd been preparing to meet Bella at the chapel, he'd received word that Bella had been seen trysting in the woods with Philip Gregory, a wealthy thane from the Lowlands.Boyd at first could not believe it but when he raced to the chapel to confront her, it was empty.He waited and she never appeared.That's when he knew she had betrayed him.
But Boyd had since done his research only to find Philip had wed a woman from Moray and had several whelps running about his estate now.Which meant Philip had coupled with Bella then abandoned her.The realization sparked something hot and unwelcome in Boyd's chest.Anger, on her behalf.Which made no damned sense.
But this woman before him, with her calloused hands and threadbare belongings, bore no resemblance to the mercenary seductress he'd imagined.If she'd passed Boyd over for wealth, where was the evidence?Where were the fine things a rich man's mistress should possess?
The usual calm calculation that governed Boyd's every decision was fracturing.
