Page 65 of Highland Slayer
Mother Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Ah,” she murmured. “Lucifer in the flesh.”
Estevan ignored the comment, mostly because he’d heard it before and it didn’t bother him. He’d long gotten used to what his father was called. “My mother is here also,” he said. “I’d be honored tae introduce ye.”
He was already on the move before she could answer, opening the rear door of the carriage when his father unbolted it. Lares stepped through, hugging Estevan tightly in greeting. Then he moved on before Estevan could stop him to find Zora to ensure she’d not been injured. Behind him, Mabel stepped out, looking like she’d just been tossed around within an inch of her life.
She was moving slowly.
“Estevan,” she greeted him, straightening her wimple as he kissed her on the cheek. “You are well?”
“I am,” he said. “And ye?”
“Well enough,” she said, though she was more disheveled than she would have liked from the rough ride. “I must say, I’m surprised to find you here.”
His brow furrowed. “What do ye mean?”
“I was certain I would find you at The Butcher’s.”
Estevan’s expression shifted to one of complete innocence. “Of course not,” he said. “Ye dunna like us tae gamble. I wouldna disappoint my favorite mother.”
“Youronlymother,” Mabel said, eyebrow cocked. But then she started to look around. “Where is Zora?”
Estevan pointed to the sanctuary. “In there,” he said. “Papa has gone after her, but she is without a scratch, I swear it.”
Mabel exhaled in relief. “Praise the saints,” she said. “I would see my daughter, please.”
Estevan could see that she was shaken, but he needed to make an introduction before he connected his mother with Zora and the scolding began.
“In a moment,” he said, taking her by the arm and gently pulling her with him. “Mama, this is Mother Michael. She is the mother abbess of St. Margaret’s.”
Mabel straightened up, unwilling to show weakness in front of another woman of power. “Your Grace,” she greeted her. “I hear we have you to thank for giving my sons and the others shelter when one of them became ill. You have my gratitude.”
Mother Michael dipped her head in acknowledgment. “My lady,” she said. “We are honored by your visit.”
Mabel grunted. “’Tis not a visit,” she said. “From the welcome we received just now, I would say you have a problem. May I be of assistance?”
Mother Michael wasn’t sure how to take that. Criticism? Or was the countess simply stating the obvious? There was something strong and icy about the woman, something Mother Michael recognized.
She, herself, had those very same traits.
“It is possible,” she finally said. “Your son brought an injured women to us and, evidently, she has a past.”
“So I was told,” Mabel said. “And those men we just saw?”
Mother Michael shrugged. “The very men who held her captive, we think,” she said. “I am grateful for your assistance in sending them away, but I suspect they may be back.”
“May I see the woman they seek?”
Mother Michael led her away, toward the sanctuary, where Zora also happened to be so Mabel could also see to herdaughter. She was nearly to the door when someone else caught her attention over near the carriage. Her eyes narrowed at the sight.
“Mateo de Wolfe!” Mabel called. “Come to me this instant.”
Mateo had been helping with the horses who had been pulling the carriage, but a command from Lady Torridon was not meant to be disobeyed. Promptly, he went to her, smiling as he bowed his head respectfully. He genuinely liked Lady Torridon, who was a friend of his mother’s.
“My lady,” he said. “It is good to see you.”
“Cease your flattery,” Mabel snapped softly, putting her hand gently on his forehead, his cheek, feeling for a fever. “Kal said you were ill. Well? What are you doing out here?”
On the spot, Mateo cleared his throat quietly in preparation for speaking but ended up coughing a little. His chest was very congested. Mabel heard it and so did everyone else within earshot.
