Page 35 of The Defiance of a Scottish Heart
Ilene had beautiful brown eyes, her wimple covering the color of her hair, but her smile was as warm as any Sheona had ever seen. She led them into an extensive building and stood at the doorway. “This is where the sisters eat. The kitchen is at the far end, and many help with the food.”
Then she led them out the door and into a second building. “This is where we sleep.” The nun opened the door to one large chamber and stood off to the side, holding the door while they perused the sleeping chamber meant for six or less. “There are three large chambers with shared quarters. The prioress has her own chamber. The chapel is at the far end. I can show that to you, then we’ll look for Mother Mary in her office. Please follow me.”
Sheona and her father followed. Sheona took in everything along the way. It was a simple beauty, the colors of autumn giving way to the coldness of winter, though no snowflakes had flown yet. There were a few squashes in the garden yet to be harvested.
“Have you any questions?” Ilene asked.
“Are there any men here?” her father asked.
“Nay, none. We have the few who bring supplies. There are several monks on the other side of the abbey that is down that way, but they rarely bother us. On occasion, we are invited to mass there and we enjoy it. But not often. We keep to ourselves, using our chapel except on special occasions.”
Separate from men. Never to be stared at as if she had gold coins pinned to her chest. No more lustful glances. And no worry ofthatever happening to her. That shameful act she’d learned about. The act that sent a chill down her spine whenever she thought of it.
How did women survive marriage?
She would never have to worry on it if she lived here. Perhaps she did belong at the nunnery.
They continued down the path toward the chapel when the sounds of heavy work caught her.
Ilene pointed to an area up ahead. “Oh, you can hear Brynja and Hildi practicing. Come watch for a bit.”
Sheona stepped off the path and froze at the action taking place in front of her. Two women threw spears at a target at the end of the clearing. Each had a unique grunt that could be heard whenever they launched the long weapon. But that wasn’t what caught her attention the most.
It was their dress.
Ilene waved her hand at the two women. “I just love their clothing. They honor their Norse heritage with the garmentsthey wear and the braids in their hair. Come, let’s greet Mother Mary.”
But Sheona couldn’t tear her gaze from the lasses throwing spears. They both wore leggings like Dyna and Gwyneth did, but with long tunics and boots, more colorful than the Granthams wore. They had spots where daggers clung to their clothing, as if they sewed an extra layer for their weaponry. And their braids were so striking that Sheona wished to plait her hair in the same way. Brynja had three braids on each side of her head, pinned out of her face. Somehow, the six braids were woven together into a large plait at the back of her head.
Striking, mysterious, and a bit sinister looking.
Exactly what Sheona wished to become. Convinced this was the place for her, she thought on what she would miss if she chose to stay.
Her sister, her brother, and her wee niece were the only things she would miss. Her father had become more of a nuisance, so the idea of getting away from his constant insistence on wedding quickly was most welcome indeed.
She’d miss Marta, Margret, and Sloan. Eva too. Was there anyone else she would miss?
She briefly thought of Taskill but rejected that because she knew he would be relieved to find that she was no longer available. Her father would no longer pester Taskill into something he didn’t want.
And she could live in peace and forget about a man with golden hair and a smile that could melt any lass’s heart.
They’d arrived at the office, and the nun knocked on the prioress’s door.
“Come in, if you please.”
Ilene opened the door and said, “Greetings to you, Mother Mary. We have visitors. This is Chieftain Dermot Rankin and his daughter Sheona, who is considering taking her vows.”
“Please come in. Chief, I recognize your name from the Isle of Mull.” The woman also wore dark robes, her hair covered. But she looked to be younger than Sheona would have expected. She had a warm smile and welcoming eyes, a pretty shade of blue.
“Old chieftain. My son is the present chieftain.”
“And your daughter wishes to take her vows?”
Her father looked more confused than she’d ever seen him. “I’m not certain.” He glanced over at Sheona, but she said nothing. “She’s considering it.” Then he waved his arms over his head. “What the hell do I know?”
The prioress arched a brow at him and her father quickly apologized. “Forgive me. I forgot where I am. What I’m doing. Why I’m here.” Then he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Talk to her.” Then he stepped outside.
“Your father doesn’t wish for you to take your vows, lass?”
