Page 150 of Laird of Smoke
She forced a smile.“I hope I haven’t kept ye waitin’ too long.”Before he could reply, she pivoted to the abbess.“I fear the mule is on his last legs, Reverend Mother.He couldn’t even carry me home.”
“Well,” the abbess said in the awkward silence while Adam stared at Eve.“I suppose I shall have to see about acquirin’ a new beast.”
Finally, Adam spoke.“The Reverend Mother tells me ye traveled to Rivenloch.”
Eve reminded herself never to confide in the abbess again.The Reverend Mother couldn’t keep a secret longer than she could hold her breath.And from the lack of impressed gasps from the rest of the nuns, everyone already knew.
But that was a rather bold comment from Adam, knowing who he was.
“Indeed,” she said.“I hear ye’re quite familiar with Rivenloch yourself, Brother.”
A crease formed between his eyes as he realized she might know his secret.
“I’ve been a few times, aye.”His voice faltered slightly when he asked, “Did ye meet with the laird?”
“Oh aye,” she assured him.
But from his sickly expression, he was not assured.
“Come sit between us, Sister,” the abbess instructed, indicating the space to her right.“Ye must be starvin’.Dinner will be served anon.”Adam sat back on the bench, leaving room for Eve, and the abbess leaned toward him to confide, “’Tis quite a feast we serve on Martinmas.”
Eve had no appetite whatsoever.Her stomach was roiling with a volatile wave of emotions.Anger.Hurt.Outrage.Sorrow.Shame.Fury.
Nonetheless, she sat quietly beside the abbess as she said a prayer of thanks for the bounty and the novices began to serve dinner.
The first offering was Sister Eithne’s famous leek pottage, served with barley rolls and butter.
The conversation around them resumed, but Eve was too angry for words.She stabbed her eating knife into her roll with a little too much force, making Adam flinch.
“Butter?”he asked, offering her the bowl.
To her humiliation, her knife had gone through the roll and linen tablecloth and stuck in the table.She tried to pry it out, to no avail.
“Allow me,” he said, enclosing her hand within his on the handle to rock it loose.
She trembled with rage.How dared he touch her with such familiarity in front of her holy sisters?
When the knife was free, she grabbed her hand back so fast, she sliced his finger with the blade.
She hadn’t meant to.
Fortunately, no one else noticed.
But he winced and covered the cut quickly with his napkin.Then he leaned close to whisper, “There’s no need for violence.We can settle this likeequals.”
His point was clear.Someone had revealed to him she was a merchant’s daughter.Bloody hell.What else had they told him?
She was too upset to speak calmly.She slathered butter on the roll and stuffed it in her mouth to stifle a curse of rage.
Meanwhile, novices brought dish after dish.A salat of parsley, sage, mint, and leeks dressed with almond oil and verjuice.A dish of roasted neeps and parsnips.Pastry coffyns stuffed with apples and onions.A great roast of beef presented on a board and decorated with sprigs of rosemary.Pears poached in wine.And darioles of milk, eggs, and cream, cooked into a tart crust.
Hard cider accompanied the meal.It was one novice’s task to refill the cups as needed.Eve decided she would keep the lass busy, for she intended to drink away her agitation.
She downed her first cup all at once and slammed the cup on the table, earning a scowl from the abbess.
“’Twas a long journey,” she explained.
“So how long were ye at Rivenloch?”Adam asked, pushing his neeps around on his trencher and trying to make the question sound casual.
