Page 23 of Laird of Smoke
A profound longing for human connection.
A connection she would never be allowed to forge.
This easy camaraderie could lead nowhere.
She was a nun.
Living in a convent had always been her destiny.
As the fifth daughter of a wealthy merchant, she had no other choice.Her father had no sons, just an apprentice.Her sisters had all married well.It was up to Eve as the least useful daughter to secure her clan’s place in heaven by devoting herself to God.
She’d never questioned that duty.Indeed, she found life at the nunnery rather freeing.Her father’s generous donations to the convent ensured she could come and go as she pleased.
She didn’t mind the small sacrifices.The boring sermons.The long days.The manual labor.Waking up at all hours to pray.She was making her father and her clan proud.She was on her way to achieving a Greater Purpose.
But now she was beginning to have doubts.This encounter was testing her faith.
“Where were ye plannin’ to stay tonight?”he asked, jarring her from her thoughts.
She opened her mouth, preparing to say “the convent.”Then she remembered she’d had no opportunity to change into her habit.Rich Lady Aillenn certainly wouldn’t seek lodging at a convent.
And for some reason, she suddenly didn’t want to admit to him she was only a nun.She wanted to keep pretending she was an entitled Irish noblewoman.She wanted to wear her scarlet gown and gold jewels and pearls in her hair.
“I…haven’t decided,” she said.
“There’s a decent place just up ahead.Anne Campbell’s.’Tis where I plan to stay.’Tis a simple inn.But I can show ye the way.”
Her breath caught.
Did she dare stay at the same inn?Wasn’t that inviting Satan to work his wiles?
What if there was only a common room for sleeping?
Or what if there was a chamber, but the two of them were forced to share it?
And what if that chamber had only one bed?
She was grateful for the dark of night.Her face reddened with such shame at the direction of her thoughts, it felt like flame upon her cheeks.
Adam supposed it was too much to hope there was just one room left at Anne Campbell’s.That they’d be obliged to share it.And there would be but one bed.Still, he couldn’t help wishing it.
He’d never felt so drawn to a woman before.So enchanted.So fascinated, not just by her beguiling beauty, but by her nimble mind and her saucy tongue.
He’d had sweethearts before.Fleeting and frivolous affairs with giggling maids and sighing lasses.They had been entertaining.Delightful.Thrilling.
But in Aillenn, he felt as if he’d met his match.A woman with whom he could exchange jests.Have adventures.Share experiences.A woman who understood him.Who appreciated the challenges of a vagabond life and enjoyed, as he did, the freedom of anonymity.
The fact that she was also lovely enough to rouse the beast in his trews only made her more irresistible.
When they arrived at Anne Campbell’s, however, their circumstances were made all too clear.
As soon as the humble proprietor beheld the lady in scarlet step into her inn, dripping with valuable gold and pearls, she fussed over Aillenn as if she were a queen.And when Aillenn pressed a silver coin into her palm, Anne became her loyal servant.
He couldn’t blame Anne.Lady Aillenn did look regal.She held her head high, and her mouth bore a vague suggestion of a well-bred smile.
Indeed, he began to wonder if she was telling the truth about being the daughter of Irish nobility, perhaps even royalty.Maybe she’d run away to Scotland out of boredom.Or fleeing the law.Was her father looking for her?It was hard to tell when the lass flitted so seamlessly from lies to truth and from identity to identity.
“Ye’re in luck, m’lady,” Anne confided to Aillenn.“I have one room left, and ’tis my finest.”
