Page 147 of Laird of Flint
Her chestnut hair was long and loose and lush, hardly a short-cropped holy tonsure.
And nothing of the calm, cool, collected nun was visible in her manner as she charged toward the byre.
“I…don’t have…much time…” she panted as she slid to a halt, scattering hens in her wake.
Not much time? She hadn’t seen Sister Eve since the night they’d left the convent. And Carenza had so many questions. Not only about what had happened to Sister Eve’s habit, but…everything.
What had become of Gellir? And her father? And the maidservant Merraid?
Had the Rivenloch clan returned home?
What was the disposition of the king?
Was it safe to leave the byre now?
Sister Eve was the only one who could tell them.
Eve glanced nervously over her shoulder. “May I come inside?”
Carenza welcomed her in.
Eve perused the interior and gave an impressed whistle. “Not bad.”
Carenza smiled. It might not be a castle. But it was far nicer than any rotting byre deserved to be.
Hew dragged up tree stumps for the ladies and poured a cup of water for Eve, who was still casting an occasional glance toward the covered doorway.
“Were you followed?” he asked.
She shook her head and took a sip of water. “Not by anyone lookin’ forye.”
Carenza wondered who would be pursuing a nun. Maybe the abbess?
“Ye seem hale,” Eve noted with a twinkle in her eye, swiftly changing the subject. “Motherhood looks good on ye.”
Carenza blushed. She was still getting accustomed to this new and fascinating Sister Eve.
Eve drained the cup and handed it back to Hew.
“First things first.” Eve came to her feet, arching a brow at Carenza. “I don’t suppose ye have that habit I loaned ye?”
“The nun’s habit?” Carenza said. “I do. ’Tis right where I packed it that night.”
She went to the satchel that slouched beside the hens’ roost and pulled out the folded bundle of gray linen. But when she handed it to Eve, several pieces of parchment slipped out, scattering on the ground.
Her breath caught. She’d forgotten all about Gellir’s verses. She certainly hadn’t meant for Hew to ever see them. She hadn’t even meant to keep them. She’d only meant to remove all the incriminating evidence from Darragh.
Mortified, she blushed as she hurriedly scooped them up.
“What are those?” Hew asked.
Eve immediately sensed her discomfiture. “Och, those are likely mine. I’m always tuckin’ scripture into my habits.” She held out her hand to take the pages from Carenza.
Carenza shot her a glance of gratitude.
“Do ye mind if I change while we talk?” Eve asked.
Hew, whose patience would soon run thin, glowered. “Fine. I just need news from home.” He turned his back so she could undress. “Gellir got my message after the wedding, aye? He knows I took the fall for Carenza’s disappearance? He knows he’s free from blame, right?”
