Page 326 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Chapter Seven

As expected, Iain didn’t have to wait long before Father Brennan appeared from the confines of the monastery. Iain’s stallion pranced sideways, nudging a warrior’s horse to his left.

“Father,” Iain said as the priest neared where he and his men waited.

“Good day, Iain.” Father Brennan smiled. “What brings you to Montrose Abbey?”

“Unfinished business.”

Father Brennan lifted a hand and shielded his eyes against the glare of the morning sun. “Stealing tends to interfere with a man’s business.”

“No absolution for my sins, Father?” The priest started to answer, but Iain interrupted. “Thomas heard rumblings of trouble from the Menzies clan, but I have seen no sign of them.”

The priest gave his chin a vigorous rub. “I remember you asking me when…well, I have heard of no problems. What made your cousin think there was trouble?”

“You know how it is with Thomas. He has a knack for knowing these things. He instructed me to stop here, so I did.” Iain laughed. “One would think it was not I who led the MacPhersons, but him.”

“Good of you to oblige him,” the priest said with no little amusement. “I will let him know you did your duty.”

“Christ, I would almost accuse the two of you of being in league against me. With him to the north and you in the south, I feel like a puppet being pulled to and fro.”

“You, a puppet?” Father Brennan grunted. “It will snow in hell when I see that.”

Despite the Father’s mirth, Iain didn’t miss the flicker of unnamed emotion on his face. “I assume I missed your visit to Fauldun Castle?” Iain asked.

“You did. I was not sure when you would return and could not tarry long. I will return in a fortnight.”

“How did you find things there?”

“Well enough.”

“A shame the trip was for naught,” Iain said.

“Do not fret.” Father Brennan waved him off, and Iain knew the priest was purposely acting dense.

“There is always much to do when I visit Fauldun Castle. It had been some time since I have been on

MacPherson land.” He raised a recriminating brow.

“Far too many of your men havna’ had confession. Come to think of it, neither have you. God knows you could use it.”

“Perhaps it is too late for me?”

“Mayhap.”

“You saw the lass?”

The priest made a show of searching his memory.

“I believe I did.”

“How did you find her?”

“Well enough, considering.”

“Considering?” At the grave shake of Father Brennan’s head, Iain tensed.

“Considering, she is not among those who care for her.”