Sister Tabitha stumbled upon the steps as she bobbed her head at Sister Agnes, the poor woman clearly beside herself. Sister Agnes willed her trembling legs to move and approached the gate as the shouting outside the moss-covered walls grew more insistent.
“Is there no one tae open the gate? Laird Gabriel MacLachlan rides over the hill! What sort of welcome—”
“Peace be with you, sir, and have patience for an old woman!”
Her hands shaking, Sister Agnes cast a last despairing glance over her shoulder but spied neither Magdalene nor any of the nuns.
Distantly she heard fresh shrieking from the direction of the chapel, which only made her fumble with the iron bar across the gate.
* * *
“By God, what folly…?”Gabriel squinted against the bright sunlight, his hands tightening on the reins.
He had sent several of his men ahead to announce their imminent arrival, but still they waited in front of the convent gate, their horses snorting and impatiently pawing the ground.
“Something must be amiss.”
Gabriel threw a dark look at Finlay, who rode beside him.
Aye, damn Seoras MacDougall and his accursed devil’s bargain, somethingwasamiss.
Starting with a marriage by proxy because his mad sister had been deemed incapable of answering for herself at the wedding. Gabriel chose for the moment not to dwell on the fierce thoughts plaguing him and focused instead on the gate to the Carmelite convent that remained shut.
His gaze swept the surrounding countryside, but his instincts remained quiet.
He sensed no danger. He saw no fire, smelled no smoke.
He glanced at the aged nun who rode at his left, but Sister Therese appeared as somber-faced as when they had begun their journey two days ago. Her expression gave no indication that some trouble brewed. She caught his gaze, her watery blue eyes filled with a stoic resignation that he had first glimpsed in the tower chapel.
“The gate, Sister Therese. Mayhap we have caught your house at prayer?”
She didn’t answer him, her gaze flicking ahead to the walled convent.
She began to whisper to herself instead, while Gabriel, to his growing irritation, caught the words, “Poor wee lass,” that he’d heard more than once from the woman. Her sudden plaintive sigh proved louder, and she jutted her chin.
“The gate opens, Laird.”
Gabriel gave her a brusque nod and prodded his massive, silvery gray steed into a canter, his men following suit.
Grim purpose filled him, mixed with impatience to see his entourage soon on their way home to Argyllshire. The gate was thrown wide by the time he reached the entrance, a sole figure dressed in solemn nun’s garb standing there surrounded by the men he had sent ahead.
“W-welcome, Laird MacLachlan,” came her distracted greeting. The older woman, whom Gabriel judged to hold a distinguished place at the convent for the gold chain and cross she wore around her neck, met his eyes only briefly before glancing behind her at the courtyard.
Gabriel saw her stiffen at the same moment he heard frenzied cries, which made him grasp the hilt of his sword. He spared no glance at Sister Therese reining in her mare beside him or his men reaching for their weapons at the raucous commotion.
Instead, Gabriel stared in disbelief as a petite young woman dashed from a walkway without a stitch of clothing, her tangled golden hair flying behind her. A flock of disheveled nuns spilled into the courtyard in close pursuit.
“Forgive me, Laird MacLachlan, if you would allow me tae explain,” began the ashen-faced nun. She looked from him to the naked beauty who made two wide circles around the courtyard and then jumped with a noisy splash into the fountain.
“Och, God help you, cousin, might that be…?” began Finlay, the bearded warrior staring as wide-eyed as the rest of Gabriel’s men.
“Your bride, Laird,” finished Sister Therese with a deep sigh. “Magdalene.”
Chapter 2
“Mad Maggie, you mean,” Gabriel muttered, voicing the name he had overheard Seoras’s pompous, overfed courtiers calling the young woman he had agreed to take as his wife.
Under duress.Extremeduress.
