Page 43 of The Scottish Bride
“Truly! Does it work?”
He laughed. “Do you hear thunder? Nay? Then it works.”
She laughed too. “You know this abbey well, I think.”
“Aye.” He went silent again.
At last she saw the foggy outline of the stone bell tower and timber walls, fronted by the crown of a massive tree. Holyoak was named for the ancient giant oak that stood like a sentry outside the gates. Now, its wide canopy was golden with autumn.
“Just ahead now. Faring well, my lady?” He slowed the horse’s pace.
“Fine,” she said, even as the sleet renewed, pattering mercilessly on her head.
“Aye so?” He glanced back.
“This is the most miserable journey I have ever endured,” she blurted.
“Now she speaks truth,” he said, and laughed.
Reaching the entrance, Liam dismounted, lifting his arms to help her down. His hands were firm at her waist as he set her on the ground, holding her for a moment when she faltered, her knees trembling with fatigue, toes near frozen in her boots. Then he went to the gate, pulling a rope that clanged a small bell on the other side and would summon a porter.
Soon the wooden doors opened and two monks in black hooded robes stood there, gesturing them inside. “Welcome,” said the younger one. “We expected you, Sir Liam!”
Expected him? Puzzled, Tamsin looked from one man to the next.
“Brother Allan, greetings. So my brother and cousin arrived safely?”
“Aye, sir, with Roc.” Brother Allan and the older monk turned to Tamsin, smiling.
“Lady Thomasina Keith,” Liam said, “Brother Allan and Brother Claude.” He took her elbow as they walked into the yard, muddy with rain.
“We are acquainted. Lady Tamsin, welcome,” Brother Allan said. The older monk murmured a welcome in French.
“Thank you.Merci,” she said to one and the other; she remembered seeing both on previous visits. Brother Allan closed the gate as Liam guided her into the center of the small courtyard, usually neat, but muddied and dreary this cold day.
She glanced around, recognizing the rectory, the chapter house and abbot’s house, the large stone chapel with its main entrance outside the palisade, the hospital building at the farend, with an outside entrance as well, along with various other structures that made Holyoak a busy abbey despite its modest size.
Once a haven for her, today it seemed fraught with risk, for she did not know if she would be welcome, considering her situation. There was one monk here, however, who would be a staunch friend, she was sure. She glanced around for him.
“Brother Gideon will be here soon and will be pleased to see you,” Brother Allan said. “Sir Gilchrist said the lady will need to rest, and the small guest house is ready. This way, my lady. Such dreadful weather! Do watch your step.” The young monk began to lead her across the muddy courtyard.
“Wait,” Liam said. “Here is Brother Gideon.”
He knew him too? She turned, seeing Sir Gilchrist with a tall monk in a plain black robe who walked with a noticeable limp. He lifted a hand in greeting, the corner of his smile puckered on the left by a deep scar that curved from cheek to chin.
“Lady Tamsin—Liam!” Gideon said. Tamsin saw Liam stride toward the monk, grinning.
“Gideon!” he called, and the two embraced, standing in cold mud and icy drizzle beside Gilchrist Finley came running too, and now all four—knights and monk—were thumping shoulders, laughing, talking.
Tamsin watched in surprise, seeing how well they knew each other, what affection they shared. Smiling faintly, she waited.
On previous visits, Brother Gideon had escorted her to the abbey’s library, staying for conversations about the books and texts. He had shared a little about what had brought him to Holyoak, and she had told him a bit about her life as well. He was warm and amiable, frank about the injuries that had landed him in the hospital here, and honest about his decision to become a novitiate, possibly a monk, one day. The avowal process was slow, giving the novice time to think about the ramificationsof devoting their lives to God’s work. For now, he was moving toward that, acting as a scholar-clerk and working with the abbey’s book collection.
And she had been delighted to learn that Brother Gideon had met her sister Lady Rowena when she had visited the abbey hospital. Typical of her sister’s curiosity and intelligence, Rowena had been eager to learn healing techniques from the monks who treated and supervised there and to share what she knew.
Tamsin loved Holyoak not just for its books or the connection with her sister, but for her friendship with Brother Gideon. He was knowledgeable, insightful, humorous, and kind, and in his company, she always felt valued as a scholar, a friend, an equal of sorts.
Waiting as the men spoke, she realized then why she had thought William—and Gilchrist, too—so oddly familiar. It was not just meeting the harper before, but more than that.
