Page 4 of Laird of Flint
“You think I should join him at Darragh.”
Hew was fine with that. Now that he’d lost his ladylove, there was nothing to stay for anyway.
Besides, the west of Scotland was wild and beautiful. Darragh was an enchanting castle perched on a cliff overlooking the firth.
It would be refreshing to wake up to the sound of waves lapping on the shore and gulls screeing through the air. To breathe in the crisp scent of the sea. To see the sun set upon the gentle waves, gilding the crests with golden light. Or to watch from the parapet as a storm raged like a dark beast, lashing the rocks below with untamed force.
It would be good to see his cousins. He owed Feiyan a visit. And it would be fun to challenge Gellir the Tournament Champion to a skirmish or two.
Indeed, the more he thought about it, the more he looked forward to it.
Nothing was quite as invigorating as change. And after the heartache he’d endured in the last several months, Hew could use a change of scenery.
Perhaps he wouldn’t have to consider chastity after all. Darragh would undoubtedly offer him a whole new array of eligible ladies. Ladies who wouldn’t scoff at his sentimentality, laugh at his passion, or crush his heart.
Aye, Darragh could be the answer he sought.
“Nay, not Darragh,” his mother said.
His enthusiasm sputtered out like a spent candle. He frowned. Not Darragh?
“Where then?” he asked.
“West of here. I’ve had a request for a warrior.”
“Right.” A good fight would keep his mind off of his broken heart.
“Someone very good with a weapon.”
Good with a weapon. That was flattering. Especially in a clan full of warriors good with weapons. “Who will I be fighting for?”
“You’re not going to like it,” she warned, “though it may make your vow of chastity easier.”
His frown returned. God’s bones. Just how much worse could this day become? He sighed. “Where do you plan to send me, Mother?”
“To Kildunan.”
“What’s Kildunan?”
“A monastery.”
He blinked.
A monastery.
A quiet, dull, boring place where he would be surrounded by quiet, dull, boring men who led quiet, dull, boring lives without so much as a glimpse of a woman?
No doubt his mother expected him to explode with rage.Shewould have. Indeed, she’d already moved one hand to the hilt of her dagger, as if anticipating his resistance and planning to convince him at the point of a blade.
But Hew’s spirit was too weary for resistance. Too broken for outbursts.
He’d jested with Logan about taking a vow of chastity. Now it was no jest.
“Perfect,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “When do I leave?”
A fortnight later, on a cold and drizzly day, a quiet, dull, boring abbot with sparse white hair welcomed Hew to Kildunan monastery. Kildunan was exactly what Hew expected. Remote. Isolated. Lady-less.
At least he wasn’t expected to actually take vows as a monk. He was only feigning an interest in the monastery with an eye toward higher ranks in the church.
