As if from a deep well, she heard the door opened wider, and then the sensation of her captor running as her head bounced against his broad back.
It was the last thing she felt…a high-pitched female scream followed by another fierce curse, the last thing she heard.
Conall lunged past the startled nun who stood with her hand to her throat, muttering, “Forgive me, Sister,” as he kicked open the main door to the convent’s sleeping quarters.
Damn it all, he had hoped to get in and get out without anyone seeing him, but the older woman had stepped from her room into the hallway just as he passed by with his unconscious load slung over his shoulder.
He should have thought of something clever to explain his presence—he’d been summoned to look in on Lady Isabeau Charpentier, who was suffering from a headache, or some such excuse—but what of his cloak-wrapped bundle?How would he explain that away?It was just as well that he hoist up his friar’s habit and run like hell toward the high stone wall enclosing the convent, where a pretty novice waited for him.
Aye, thinking of hell, if he hadn’t been destined for Satan’s fiery pit already, he surely was now after cajoling the young nun-in-training to unbolt a weathered door set into the wall for him.
No more than a few moments ago, he had stood on the strong back of his horse to peer over the wall when the novice had been walking by on her way to morning prayers at the chapel—or so she had told him.
He had decided as soon as he reached the convent that he would waste no time in trying to talk his way into gaining entrance through the main gate, but would go around to the back that was nearer to the sleeping quarters.To his relief, the layout of the place was much like the convent outside Dumbarton where Gabriel MacLachlan had gone to fetch his bride two months ago, both Conall and Cameron accompanying him—which had made Conall’s task so much easier in finding Isabeau Charpentier.
That, and cajoling the pretty novice to open the creaky door so he wouldn’t have to climb over the wall…and there she still stood, just where he had left her, as wide-eyed and trusting as a spring lamb as he drew closer, slowing his pace.
“I heard a scream, Friar.”
“It was nothing,” Conall said with a glance over his shoulder, but thankfully no alarm had been raised.Had that older nun been so stunned that she still stood rooted to the floor?Shrugging, he hoped so.“I found Lady Isabeau’s chamber just where you’d said…three doors down on the left.She’s very ill, though, so I must take her into town where another healer has much more knowledge of such matters.”
The novice nodded, her fair brow crinkling with concern.“Oh, aye, Friar, please hurry.She’s tae be married in two days.Shall I tell the Reverend Mother that you’ll bring her back soon?”
“Aye, you do that,” Conall replied with a deep twinge of guilt.He hoped the novice, mayhap no more than fifteen years old, would not suffer any unpleasant consequences for so innocently helping him.He made the sign of the Cross over her and then ducked through the door.“Dinna forget tae draw the door and then on with you tae your prayers.”
“God go with you, Friar, and the beautiful lady.”
Aye, he was bound straight for hell, Conall thought grimly as the novice shut the door with a thud and drew the bolt just as he’d bade her.
It had all been so easy…too easy, but mayhap that was soon to change.The hair prickled on the back of his neck at the distant sound of riders approaching.He untethered his roan stallion from a tree stump and hoisted himself into the saddle, his unconscious burden still slung over his shoulder and the basket filled with clinking bottles over his arm.
What a strange sight he must be!As the thunder of hooves drew closer, Conall urged his horse into a gallop and rode straight for a thick copse of trees, where he pulled up on the reins and took cover just in time.
Three men headed straight for the main gate of the convent, one riding in front and the other two behind, but their pace wasn’t rushed as if there was anything amiss.
Instead the dark-haired warrior, who appeared to be the leader, threw back his head and laughed at something said by one of the others, all of them in high spirits—and then it dawned upon Conall.
Surely the one in front must be Euan MacCulloch coming to visit his bride-to-be, which made Conall curse under his breath and urge his horse deeper into the trees.
A bride-to-be that was sleeping like the dead, her dark hair streaming down his back and her slight weight no more a nuisance to him than if he’d had a child thrown over his shoulder.He lowered her to his lap all the same so he could better hold onto her, and then shook off the basket from his arm.
It occurred to him as the vials and bottles spilled onto the mossy ground that he might have had cause to use some of those healer’s potions during the journey back to Dumbarton Castle, but there was no help for it now.When MacCulloch realized his bride-to-be was missing, an alarm would be raised and a frantic search begun, which made Conall kick his horse into a hard gallop.
He had left the rest of his men and the priest that had accompanied them some ten leagues to the north.It wouldn’t take long for him to reach them, but then they would have to ride at a breakneck pace from that point to elude any searchers that might be sent out in all directions from Dumfries.
Aye, and a fruitless search it would be, too, for Euan MacCulloch would never see his intended bride again.
Conall had her now, and though it grated upon him mightily that he must marry her, he felt a heady sense of triumph to have abducted her with so little trouble at all—and won King Robert a goodly measure of revenge.
How pleased the man would be!Yet Conall’s full task wasn’t yet accomplished, for he still had to wed and bed her.
“Och, easier thought of than done,” he muttered, scowling now though he tightened his arms around his captive as he glanced down at her upturned face pressed against his chest.
Isabeau Charpentier.
Nowhisintended bride.King Robert’s description of her as beauteous hardly did her justice, for in truth, Conall doubted he had ever seen a lovelier young woman.His first sight of her had nearly undone him, his loins tightening as much at the vivid memory as that her softly rounded rump was wedged between his thighs.
Aye, he could indulge in such thoughts now that he had ridden well away from the convent, though he didn’t allow his charging stallion to slacken their pace.
