Page 91 of Laird of Smoke
Adam wondered if that was the real reason the king wanted to put a stop to Fergus.If the Laird of Galloway hoped to enrich himself with more and more property, he could eventually become a threat to the Crown.
A go-between could play a key role in alerting the king to Fergus’s plans.It would require stealth and deception.But those were two of Adam’s most valuable assets.
Eve sighed as she poked the final row of peas into the soil of the convent garden.
Ordinarily, she loved being outdoors in the warm spring sunlight.She liked tending to the crops while her sisters toiled nearby in the orchard.She enjoyed the sensation of damp earth crumbling between her fingers.Appreciated the small miracle of creating new food from a single seed.
But she hadn’t been happy for weeks.
The abbess had asked no questions upon Eve’s return.Eve considered this a mercy, for she was certain her sin was written across her forehead.A sin that seemed even more reprehensible in the peaceful, pious halls of the convent.
She’d wept and prayed.
She’d fasted and taken a vow of silence.
She’d isolated in her cell and foregone the pleasure of bathing.
But none of her acts of penance had brought her relief or forgiveness.
Was this how the rest of her life would be?Nothing but pain and guilt?Longing and shame?
Part of her felt she deserved it.At least shehada life, which was more than God had given poor, wee Nael.Perhaps she should accept a lifetime of sorrow with grace and dignity.
Worse, no matter how vehemently she prayed, how much she hungered, how many tears she shed, she couldn’t stop the dreams that plagued her in her sleeping hours.
She dreamed ofhim.Of the gallant, generous, exciting man who had swept her off her feet and fed her a sweet feast of forbidden delights from his loving hands.Again and again she dreamed of what they’d done.
Then she dreamed of what theymighthave done.The rapturous trysts ahead of them.Their wedding night.The children they’d have.The blissful life they’d lead.Going on adventures.Battling outlaws.Finding purpose.Doing good.
Every morn she awoke in grief over her loss.Wishing she could forget him.Wishing they had never met.
Every morn her gaze would catch at the satchel propped in the corner.And every morn she swore she would get rid of it.Banish Adam from her mind.From her heart.From her soul.
But she couldn’t.She told herself it was because taking the satchel would be stealing.His things had worth, after all.A coat of mail.Armor plate.A dagger.His medallion.They were too valuable to simply discard.Neither did she dare donate them, for fear his identity might be revealed.
In her heart, however, she knew the real reason she couldn’t part with them.
It was foolish hope.
Hope that somehow he might return for them.
Hope that when he did, God would decide she’d paid enough.
Hope that her dreams of a bright future might come true.
She straightened at the end of the row, pressing at the stiff small of her back.Shielding her eyes from the sunlight with her hand, she looked over the convent wall toward the far road.
A horse and rider were coming.
Was it…?
Her heart raced even as her brain told her she was wrong.
It wasn’t Adam.Adam she would have known anywhere.
Still, the rider looked familiar.
That was no common palfrey, but a fine warhorse.
