Page 142 of Laird of Flint
But there was much to do.
Chapter 25
When the day of the wedding arrived, and Carenza still hadn’t heard from Hew, she feared his plan had failed.
She still couldn’t tell Gellir her secret. Not quite yet. Not while he could call off the marriage in disgust and leave her to bear a bastard.
She’d tell him tonight. After they retired to their bedchamber. And before they consummated the marriage. That was the only right thing to do.
But first, unable to endure the pressure of her guilt a moment longer, she decided she had to reveal the tragic truth to Merraid. That Carenza was pregnant by her lover.
The maidservant was understandably mortified. To Merraid, Sir Gellir had always been the perfect hero. Gallant, courteous, brave. He even wrote romantic verse. She couldn’t comprehend how Carenza’s heart could belong to anyone else.
She begged Carenza not to ruin his wedding night by breaking his heart.
Carenza argued that it was far worse for her to swive her bridegroom without telling him she was carrying another man’s bairn. Indeed, it was because Gellir had been so sweet and patient with her, writing her verse that had been honest and kind, that she couldn’t imagine deceiving him, even for a day.
Merraid suggested Carenza could perhaps delay the wedding night until they made the journey to Rivenloch. She could claim a few more days of illness. That way she and Gellir would have time to get to know each other—and perhaps fall in love—before she disclosed her secret.
It seemed a reasonable compromise, until Carenza realized she would be alone with Gellir. Merraid was not returning with them. How could Carenza break such devastating news to Gellir without his old friend Merraid nearby to soften the blow and soothe his broken heart?
It took some persuading. But the maidservant reluctantly agreed to come with her to Rivenloch, at least for a fortnight or so.
Then, resigned to her fate, Carenza picked up her mirror and began pinning pearls between her tiny looped braids. No matter how fraught she was with despair, she had to keep up appearances. She must look like a radiant and happy bride. The Rivenloch and Dunlop clans had already arrived.
Someone scratched at the door.
She checked her reflection, practicing a brilliant smile, one that would please her father.
Then she answered the door.
It wasn’t her father.
It was a nun.
She dropped her smile. What was a nun doing here? Had she sensed Carenza’s sin? Had she come to take her confession?
The nun gave her a perfunctory perusal from head to toe. “Lady Carenza?”
“Aye.”
To Carenza’s surprise, the nun pushed her way into the chamber and shut the door behind her. She scoured the room.
“Ye have things?”
“Things?”
“Items ye wish to take?”
“Take?” Carenza asked. “Take where? Who are ye?”
“Sister Eve.” She gave Carenza a decidedly saucy smile. The combination of her fresh face and the twinkle in her brown eyes made her look more like a courtesan than a nun.
Apparently, she expected Carenza to recognize her name. Could she be a Rivenloch clan member Carenza had forgotten to memorize?
Before Carenza could inquire further, Sister Eve rolled her eyes in self-disgust. “Och, Eve! Ye’d forget your own wimple if ’tweren’t attached to your habit. I meant to say I’ve come from Sir Hew.”
Carenza gasped, pressing a hand to her bosom. “Hew?”
