Chapter 25
Chapter 25
When the day of the wedding arrived, and Carenza still hadn’t heard from Hew, she feared his plan had failed.
She still couldn’t tell Gellir her secret. Not quite yet. Not while he could call off the marriage in disgust and leave her to bear a bastard.
She’d tell him tonight. After they retired to their bedchamber. And before they consummated the marriage. That was the only right thing to do.
But first, unable to endure the pressure of her guilt a moment longer, she decided she had to reveal the tragic truth to Merraid. That Carenza was pregnant by her lover.
The maidservant was understandably mortified. To Merraid, Sir Gellir had always been the perfect hero. Gallant, courteous, brave. He even wrote romantic verse. She couldn’t comprehend how Carenza’s heart could belong to anyone else.
She begged Carenza not to ruin his wedding night by breaking his heart.
Carenza argued that it was far worse for her to swive her bridegroom without telling him she was carrying another man’s bairn. Indeed, it was because Gellir had been so sweet and patient with her, writing her verse that had been honest and kind, that she couldn’t imagine deceiving him, even for a day.
Merraid suggested Carenza could perhaps delay the wedding night until they made the journey to Rivenloch. She could claim a few more days of illness. That way she and Gellir would have time to get to know each other—and perhaps fall in love—before she disclosed her secret.
It seemed a reasonable compromise, until Carenza realized she would be alone with Gellir. Merraid was not returning with them. How could Carenza break such devastating news to Gellir without his old friend Merraid nearby to soften the blow and soothe his broken heart?
It took some persuading. But the maidservant reluctantly agreed to come with her to Rivenloch, at least for a fortnight or so.
Then, resigned to her fate, Carenza picked up her mirror and began pinning pearls between her tiny looped braids. No matter how fraught she was with despair, she had to keep up appearances. She must look like a radiant and happy bride. The Rivenloch and Dunlop clans had already arrived.
Someone scratched at the door.
She checked her reflection, practicing a brilliant smile, one that would please her father.
Then she answered the door.
It wasn’t her father.
It was a nun.
She dropped her smile. What was a nun doing here? Had she sensed Carenza’s sin? Had she come to take her confession?
The nun gave her a perfunctory perusal from head to toe. “Lady Carenza?”
“Aye.”
To Carenza’s surprise, the nun pushed her way into the chamber and shut the door behind her. She scoured the room.
“Ye have things?”
“Things?”
“Items ye wish to take?”
“Take?” Carenza asked. “Take where? Who are ye?”
“Sister Eve.” She gave Carenza a decidedly saucy smile. The combination of her fresh face and the twinkle in her brown eyes made her look more like a courtesan than a nun.
Apparently, she expected Carenza to recognize her name. Could she be a Rivenloch clan member Carenza had forgotten to memorize?
Before Carenza could inquire further, Sister Eve rolled her eyes in self-disgust. “Och, Eve! Ye’d forget your own wimple if ’tweren’t attached to your habit. I meant to say I’ve come from Sir Hew.”
Carenza gasped, pressing a hand to her bosom. “Hew?”
“Aye. He bids ye come with me. We must make all haste.” She glanced around the chamber once more. “If ye don’t have any things…”
“Take me to him.” What did things matter when the man she loved was waiting?
“Hold on. I’ve got somethin’ for ye.”
To Carenza’s astonishment, Sister Eve reached under her habit, fiddled with some ties, and pulled out another habit. She tossed it onto the bed.
“Put this on.”
The nun wandered to the window and peered through the crack in the shutters.
Carenza hesitated. A disguise? This seemed altogether too rash and mad and dangerous. She gulped.
“Where are we goin’?” she asked.
“Why, back to the nunnery, o’ course.” The nun turned and gave her an amused wink.
Carenza bit her lip. Running away. Was she sure she wanted to do that? Desert her bridegroom? And her clan? Risk everything on…
“Come.” Sister Eve gestured her over with a wave of her hand. “Look.”
Carenza joined her at the window and peered through the crack of the shutters. The Rivenloch clan was gathered in the courtyard. The men were bold and imposing. The warrior maids were impressive and intimidating. Seeing them made the breath stop in her chest. Was she sure she wanted to make foes of them?
Then her gaze landed on the Rivenloch man Eve was trying to point out.
It was Hew. He looked amazing. Dressed in resplendent attire for the wedding, with his hair pulled back into a formal braid, he might have been a Viking king.
He was mingling with the rest of his clan. But as she watched him, he crossed his arms and casually lifted his eyes to her window.
Her breath caught. Maybe he couldn’t see her. But he knew she was there, watching.
He gave a subtle nod of his head.
“That’s our signal,” Eve said. “Hurry now and dress.”
Her mind was made up. Aye, she would risk everything on the man she loved. She hastily donned the drab habit, hiding her meticulously plaited tresses under the ash-colored veil and leaving her intricately embroidered wedding gown in a pool on the floor.
Eve scooped up the gown, folding and concealing it under her own habit.
“We’re to leave no evidence,” she explained, though Carenza wondered if “Sister Eve” meant to keep the garment.
“Are you even a real nun?” she asked.
Eve pretended affront, but then admitted, “Sometimes.”
Carenza felt a shiver of misgiving. Should she trust the lass? But then she remembered she herself had once feigned to be a cateran. She let out an uneasy sigh and straightened her spine. “I’m ready.” Then she reconsidered. “Wait.”
She went to the small wooden chest where she kept the ring Hew had given her and the verses from Gellir. She slipped the ring on her finger. She didn’t have the heart to burn the pages. But she dared not leave them behind. She stuffed them down the top of her habit.
“All right.”
They didn’t dare interact with Hew for fear of drawing attention. Eve said he would meet them later at the convent. Still, it surprised Carenza how easily she could pass through the halls of Darragh as one of a pair of nuns. Clothed in dull colors, with her head covered and bowed, she moved through the crowded courtyard almost invisibly. And with all the flurry of preparations for the wedding, their departure out the gates of the castle was scarcely noted.
The journey south was taxing. Though her reasons for fleeing were noble, Carenza was all too aware that defying the king’s will was treason.
But when she’d seen Hew’s face, when she’d tried to imagine a life without him, she knew she had to take a leap of faith.
Now she’d leaped too far to turn back.
Riding away from Darragh through the woods on a stolen horse, Hew questioned whether he was doing the right thing.
He’d arrived for the wedding just this morn with the rest of the Rivenloch clan. But he’d begun plotting the daring escape days before then.
He’d secretly enlisted the services of an old acquaintance, Sister Eve.
Sister Eve was a nun with whom he’d accidentally—and temporarily—fallen in love years ago. Despite their mishap, they had remained friends. And though she was a less-than-devoted nun whose abbess had a hard time containing her within convent walls, when Eve put her mind to something, especially when there was adventure to be had, she was highly reliable and good at what she did.
It seemed as if all was going to plan. Sister Eve had replied to his signal. She would slip out of the castle with Carenza, and they would flee to her convent. Once the two of them were safely away—but before Gellir noticed his bride was gone—Hew would ride out after them.
But while procuring weapons for the journey from Darragh’s armory, Hew had been waylaid by Gellir, who was already looking for Carenza. Anxious about his missing bride, Gellir was eager to alert both clans so a wider search could be started.
That was the last thing Hew needed. So he begged Gellir not to tell anyone just yet. He explained that the laird of Dunlop would go mad if he thought he’d lost his daughter, having already lost his wife. He said there was no need to panic the clans. Hew would volunteer to ride out and look for her quietly himself.
His cousin, however, was stubborn and principled. Gellir deemed it was his fault his bride had run away. Therefore it was his responsibility to recover her.
In the end, since Gellir refused to take nay for an answer, Hew had to resort to brute force. He imprisoned his cousin in the armory.
Gellir was naturally furious.
Hew understood. He felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to let him go.
So he assuaged his cousin with a partial truth. He gently explained that Carenza was in love with someone else. He told Gellir he meant to reunite her with her lover. And in the meantime, he pledged to keep her safe.
Gellir, however, sternly reminded Hew he was not only aiding a runaway bride. He was defying the king.
Hew didn’t need reminding. The idea already chilled his blood.
But despite all his misgivings, at that instant, Hew felt he was doing the right thing. He recited the Rivenloch motto back to Gellir. Amor vincit omnia. Love conquers all.
He doubted Gellir or anyone else would see things his way. But Hew’s intentions were honorable. Carenza needed to have a father for her bairn, and she deserved to have a husband she genuinely loved. Gellir needed a wife who wouldn’t mar his impeccable character, and he deserved to have a firstborn that actually belonged to him.
As for Hew, he cared little about his reputation. He wasn’t important enough in the Rivenloch clan to worry about a fall from grace. As long as he could live with the woman he loved and be a father to their child, he would stay inconspicuous until the king’s wrath blew over.
Still, when he thought about defying the will of two famously powerful clans—Rivenloch and Dunlop, absconding with the bride of the tournament champion of all Scotland, and disobeying the king’s orders, he wondered if he’d brought enough weapons.
Carenza paid little heed to her traveling companion as they tramped along the rocky southern road. Sister Eve seemed awfully chatty for a nun, especially considering their perilous circumstances. She was going on and on about her sundry adventures, which seemed like more than one could squeeze into a lifetime.
As for Carenza, she was too nervous for conversation.
Sister Eve’s gift of prattle and unruffled demeanor, however, were a blessing a few hours into their trek. A trio of Rivenloch men rode past, asking about a runaway bride. Eve did all the talking, pretending to give their questions long and thoughtful consideration, until they gave up and rode on.
From then on, Carenza had new respect for the woman. She wished she’d listened more closely to the young nun’s colorful stories.
Indeed, she had to admit she was rather surprised when, a few hours before nightfall, they arrived at an actual convent.
“Sister Eve.” The abbess looked weary, as if she’d been worn to a shadow. “What a lovely surprise.”
“I told ye I’d be back. This is my cousin, Sister Agnes,” she said without flinching, indicating Carenza. “She’ll be stayin’ with me for a wee bit.”
The abbess actually looked pleased to see Carenza. “Welcome, Sister. I’m glad to see Sister Eve has kin for company. Someone to keep her on the straight and narrow path.”
Carenza felt sick. She was hardly the one to keep anybody honest. Now she was defying royalty and deceiving the church. Nonetheless, she managed a weak smile.
Eve rubbed her hands together. “We’re starvin’. Is Sister Eithne makin’ her famed leek pottage this eve?”
Sister Eithne was making her pottage. Carenza was so hungry, it tasted as good as her favorite roast salmon. Fortunately, her hunger and Eve’s chattiness prevented “Sister Agnes” from having to answer awkward questions. The nuns conversed in hushed tones around her, and soon Carenza grew sleepy.
Her eyes had almost drifted shut when Eve clamped her thigh under the table, bringing her awake again.
“Your pardon, Abbess,” Eve said, “but Sister Agnes and I have had a long journey. We can scarcely stay awake. May we retire?”
The abbess gave her a pointed glare. “Will ye join us for matins?”
“Ne’er fear,” Eve said. “My cousin has insisted upon it.”
The abbess gave Carenza a smug grin. “Good.”
As far as Carenza knew, Eve kept her promise.
Carenza, however, did not.
Well before matins, while it was still dark, Hew arrived at the convent on horseback.
Carenza could scarcely contain her relief and joy. How she’d yearned to fall into his arms. To feel his heart pumping with hers. And how she’d feared this day would never come. They embraced wordlessly, letting their eyes and hands and lips convey their longing.
“Och, ye two,” Sister Eve admonished in a whisper. “Save it for after the weddin’.”
Hew withdrew from their kiss. “How can I thank you enough, Eve?”
“Just give this wee one a proper da.” She ambled close enough to place a tender palm atop Carenza’s belly.
“I will,” he promised.
Eve gave him a scrap of parchment. Then she handed Carenza’s wedding dress, neatly folded, to her.
Hew read the parchment. “This is the place? In Mauchline?”
“Aye. I’ve told the father to expect ye in the morn.” She winked at Carenza. “He’ll marry ye then.”
“On the morrow?” Carenza asked.
Her first thought was that wasn’t enough time.
After all, she was Lady Carenza of Dunlop, daughter of the laird. She was representing the Dunlop clan. She had to look her best.
“The sooner, the better,” Hew said, gazing down at her with love.
She squirmed. She wore a nun’s gray tunic and a grayer scapular that was stained with leek pottage. Her once freshly bathed feet were caked with dirt. The pearls she’d pinned so carefully into her hair were lost. What remained of her braids had escaped her wimple in haphazard coils and springs.
Yet she knew he saw none of it.
He saw her shining eyes. Her gleeful grin. He saw The One he wanted to make his wife. The mother of his children.
And she knew in her heart of hearts that she would never be more beautiful to him than she was right now.
She gave him a smile so full of love, there was room for nothing else.
“What are we waitin’ for?”