Page 107 of Laird of Flint
“Question me about what?”
“The same thing everyone has been wonderin’.”
He furrowed his brow. What was she talking about?
She told him. “Why an illustrious warrior o’ Rivenloch would wish to take holy vows at a Highland monastery.”
He sighed. Of course hawk-eyed Father James would want to know that. “What did the abbot say?”
“He said yedomean to join the order, that ye were only staying at Dunlop because o’ the accident.”
He nodded. That was good. But he still had to convince Father James he was sincere in his monkish pursuits and not doubling as a spy. It put him in an awkward position, keeping the abbot’s secret. Hopefully, when he uncovered the perpetrators, he would be forgiven for not being entirely forthcoming.
“Did you learn anything from the monks?” he asked.
“Aye, though not enough to completely eliminate any o’ them. Brother Michael is likely too feeble. But ’tis quite possible he’s committed previous crimes. Brother Robert is a jovial fellow. But he seems irreverent enough to sin without battin’ an eye. Brother William is quiet and tenderhearted. But he fled when Father James showed up, as if he had somethin’ to hide.”
Hew nodded. He knew all three monks, and he could guess what Brother William had to hide. Within the church, it was a sin worse than theft. But Hew wasn’t going to be the one to expose the poor man.
“So what’s next?” she asked.
“I return to the monastery.”
She placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him with her wide violet eyes. “I don’t want ye to go.”
He enfolded her hand in his. “I don’t want to go.”
But Carenza knew better than to argue with him. She was bright enough to recognize it was a matter of safety.
“How can I help?” she asked. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. Not for a while. Perhaps a fortnight or two. We have to put Father James’s fears to rest. Convince him my intentions are sincere.”
She nodded and lowered her head. When she looked up again, there was a probing intensity in her gaze. She said softly, “What about your intentions as far as I’m concerned?”
That he could answer. He was even more sure of it now than ever. Now that he’d spent half the day pacing the wall in worry over her.
He lifted her hand to place a kiss on her palm, enclosing it there by folding her fingers over.
“You already have my heart,” he said. “I intend to give you my hand.”
It was a bold promise. One neither of them had the power to keep. After all, their futures were in the hands of the king. But Hew meant every word of it.
Carenza’s eyes brimmed with tears of joy. “Then I shall have patience.”
He kissed her brow. “What is a fortnight or two when we have our whole lives ahead of us, aye?”
A fortnight seemed like an eternity to Carenza. She’d never been in love before. And she’d only just begun to sample the joys of courtship. How could she survive without his smoldering glance, his warm embrace, his heart-melting kiss, his breathtaking caress?
“If we must starve for so long,” she murmured, lowering her eyes to linger on his delectable lips, “then let us feast tonight.”
Regret etched his face. “Och, lass, nothing would please me more. But we dare not.”
“Why? No one will know.”
“I will know.”
“But ye mean to marry me.”
