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He thought she was appalled by what had just happened. Clarissa was nothing of the sort, but she dared not repeat her husband’s words. Nay, her former husband’s words.
“Do not apologize,” she said, taking a step back and looking down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze. “I . . . enjoyed it.”
Very much, she added silently.
“That may be so”—she looked up as he spoke—“but it was not the most honorable way to distract you from the current situation.”
“As to that—”
“We cannot travel this eve. It is much too dangerous.”
“We?”
She wanted nothing more than to fall back into Aidan’s arms. That would certainly do more harm than good, but she really couldn’t remember ever wanting anything quite so much . . .
“Lawrence and I will escort you to Dunburg Abbey.”
“Nay,” she said, shaking her head. “I cannot let you do that. If my father finds out—”
“He will not. We will leave before dawn.”
“If he learns of your visit and then finds me at Dunburg—”
“The few who saw us here tonight will be paid handsomely for their silence.”
“You will bribe my men to keep quiet?”
“Aye,” he said, without apology. “I trust no one else with your safety.”
Aidan neither smiled nor backed away from his assertion that only he could be trusted to see her safely installed at Dunburg. For all she knew, it might be true. She hardly knew the men of Sutworth, and if what Aidan had said was true, her father could be on his way here now.
She could not risk staying any longer. But neither did she want to risk Aidan’s safety.
“You cannot . . . your clan—”
Aidan’s frown deepened. “I told you of Allie?”
“Aye, the one who relayed the message to you.”
“She knows I’m here.”
“She does?”
Aidan looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he kept silent. A moment later, he said, “None in my clan would see a woman unprotected. I will escort you to Dunburg Abbey.”
“But I am sure there is someone—”
“I am going.”
Stubborn Scot.
“I need to speak to Father Patrick. Tonight.” She moved past Aidan once again. This time, he allowed her to pass. When he did not argue with her, she thought perhaps he had stayed behind. But halfway down the corridor, a very real presence behind her made her turn around.
He stood there, stalwart and fierce, and an overwhelming surge of warmth washed over Clarissa. She had never felt so protected. He would not let anyone hurt her, she realized. Except . . . if she managed to reach Dunburg and was accepted by the nuns there, the loss of Aidan de Sowlis, again, would be the very thing that hurt her most.
Chapter 12
“The abbess is dead.”
