Page 40

Clarissa looked from Father Patrick, who made that announcement, to her two other companions, unsure of what to say. They stood on the outskirts of the abbey.

“Dead?” Lawrence was the first to ask.

They’d sent Father Patrick ahead, a precaution the priest had insisted was unnecessary. Aidan had insisted on it anyway. Until he was sure the nuns at Dunburg were willing to take her in, Clarissa would not show her face to them.

She’d caught Aidan glancing at her as they waited—more than once. Each time, she had looked away, more from sadness than embarrassment. They’d not discussed the kiss. In fact, the last time they’d been alone together had been on the way to Father Patrick’s chamber.

“Aye. God rest her soul, she passed a sennight ago, and none have any knowledge of the missive I sent.”

He looked directly at her, and before he finished, Clarissa knew it was bad.

“It seems the abbey will be closing. Its benefactor, the Earl of Argyll, founded Dunburg after promising the Creator to do so when he survived a violent storm at sea. With the recent trouble along the borders, the nuns have been unable to sustain the abbey on its own. Their herd of sheep continues to dwindle courtesy of reivers. Without the earl’s gold, it cannot survive.” Father frowned. “The abbess had convinced the earl to keep the abbey open, but without her, all agree their cause is lost. They are making preparations to leave even now.”

It was Father’s expression that jolted Clarissa from her frozen state. He looked as if he would weep for her. She glanced at Aidan, and then Lawrence, and tightened her grip on the reins of her mount.

Nay. This could not be.

“There must be others,” she said, “mayhap not in Northumbria where my father’s influence is too great, but here in Scotland. There must be others who would be willing to—”

“She cannot return to Sutworth Manor,” Father Patrick said to Aidan.

Clarissa wanted to scream as the priest ignored her, but she reminded herself Father had been nothing but kind since she’d laid her troubles at his feet. She lived in a world ruled by men, and it would do well for her to remember it.

“Nay,” she said, attempting to keep her voice calm, “I will not return to Sutworth, but neither will I go back to England.”

Aidan watched her, his shoulders square and chin lifted.

“You will return to Highgate End with me.”

“No,” she said, as forcefully as she could. “I will not. I’ve put you, and your cause, in too much danger already. Anyone who saw you at Sutworth—”

Aidan and Father Patrick spoke at the same time.

“I’ve ensured they will not . . .”

“None will breathe a word of it.”

Both men stopped to allow the other to speak. Which was when Lawrence entered the argument. “I will escort the priest back to Sutworth, then return to Highgate End to notify your brother of your whereabouts.”

“Aye,” Aidan said, turning to his friend. “I will circumvent Sutworth on my return, which will take nearly an extra full day. Tell him I should be back at Highgate End by nightfall tomorrow.”

“Wait!” she yelled, feeling her cheeks flush with frustration. “No one is listening to me. I am telling you, I will not go with you, Aidan. I cannot—”

“Aye, there are other places,” he said. “But we cannot traipse through the countryside looking for an abbey or convent willing to take you. Our own priest will write—”

“And what of my father?” she demanded.

Aidan and Lawrence exchanged a glance. They were worried, rightly so, but did not want her to know it. Did they think she was dense?

“He will not know you are there. We will keep your visit quiet—”

“Visit?” Clarissa did not mean to yell, but she had long ago begun to panic. If forced to choose between being discovered by her father and being the instrument by which the shaky peace along the border fell apart, though she was still not convinced her father would capitulate, Clarissa would gladly sacrifice herself. “Aidan,” she started again more calmly. “Think on this. I cannot go to Highgate End with you.”

While she spoke, Father Patrick walked toward Lawrence, who held the reins to his mount. As he prepared himself to leave, Clarissa knew what would happen next. And she was powerless to stop it.

Unless . . . unless she returned with the priest. Gave herself over to her father . . .

“Do not even consider it.”