Aislinn swallowed hard and nodded, though she felt a deeper chill grip her. “Aye, Cameron, I’ll not fight you… but if I should lose you—”
“Or I you,” Cameron cut her off, his darkened eyes blazing into hers, “but we willna think of it, agreed? We must trust that God doesna want us parted—Reverend Mother, will you pray for us?”
“Every moment!” Sister Agnes blurted, crossing herself and then pressing her lips to the gold crucifix she wore around her neck. “I’ll keep Sorcha here with us, aye? Until you come back for her… both of you.”
Cameron nodded grimly and led the way, Aislinn hastening with him as the piteous sound of Sorcha’s weeping followed them out the door.
* * *
Cameron had fully intended to ride hard to Dumbarton, the town and fortress a good five leagues away. Yet once outside the convent gate, he clasped Aislinn tightly against him and breathed in the sun-warmed scent of her hair.
She sat in the saddle in front of him, which is where he wanted her so that he could hold her close and whisper into her ear how much he loved her—aye, just as he did now.
In answer, she leaned her head back against his shoulder and said quietly, “I love you, Laird Campbell,” her mood as subdued as Cameron’s even though they had Sister Agnes’s fervent prayers surrounding them.
He didn’t want to think about what might come in spite of a burning hope that King Robert would not wrest Aislinn from him.
Lord Butler might support the fight for independence from England, but the king knew the character of the Irishman from his coarse words and actions. Surely that Aislinn was his wife’s cousin would grant her royal protection—aye, Cameron had to believe that it would be so!
“That’s the wall I climbed over when I ran from the convent.”
Cameron glanced to where Aislinn pointed, his stallion pricking up his ears and snorting, which made her laugh softly.
“Aye, jumping to the ground knocked the wind from me… and there’s the farm where I borrowed the pony. I’m glad Sister Agnes already had one of the nuns return him. Ah, look, he’s grazing with his companions.”
Indeed, the sturdy pony appeared to be contentedly back at home and munching grass, and looking none the worse for his adventure.
Not so for poor Jeanne, Cameron couldn’t help thinking, and Aislinn’s plaintive sigh told him she was thinking of Sorcha’s mother, too.
A well-tended cemetery lay outside the convent walls, where Jeanne would be laid to rest before nightfall. Already well into the afternoon, the sunlight that had felt so warm when he and Aislinn had mounted his steed moments ago, had disappeared behind dark clouds scudding across the sky.
Aye, why not a storm to add more misery to the day? Cameron had nevernotknown the weather to change quickly, many a battle fought in mud up to his knees when a morning had dawned bright and clear.
He no longer had his breacan, which he’d used to wrap Jeanne’s leg, and Aislinn had left her cloak spread upon the woman’s bed to give her more warmth—och, so nothing to throw over their heads.
A sudden crack of thunder right above them made Cameron curse as his stallion reared up, squealing, while Aislinn was jolted hard against his chest.
Somehow they both kept their seats, but another deafening boom and a blinding flash of lightning made him clench the reins and hold her even more tightly as he veered his horse toward a rocky outcropping in the distance.
They were nearly there when the blackened sky opened up into a lashing downpour, both of them drenched by the time they reached cover.
Aislinn, though, didn’t seem dismayed at all as they dismounted and Cameron tethered his horse under one side of the outcropping, but laughed as if with exhilaration.
He had only to draw closer to see that he’d misjudged her emotion, for tears streamed down her face, melding with the wetness from the rain.
“Aislinn…” He pulled her into his arms and let her weep, her shoulders quaking.
Aye, why wouldn’t she need to cry after Jeanne’s death and with the weight of uncertainty that faced them?
His beloved Aislinn, so bold and courageous and yet with a tender heart, too.
Such emotion overcame him as well to hear her anguish that he pressed a kiss against her damp cheek and held her even closer. A few moments more and her sobs quieted, her arms going round him to hug him as tightly.
The thunder now a distant rumbling and lightning no longer flashing, the downpour lessened to a steady soft rain that seemed to lull him even as Aislinn lifted her head to look into his eyes.
“If I lose you, Cameron, I don’t want to live.”
Och, God, he could have uttered the same thing—but instead he stroked her cheek, his throat so tight that it felt painful for him to speak.
