12 AT THE GATE
12: AT THE GATE
THE ABBESS CAME out to meet them at the gate.
Of course, Lennox hadn’t expected to be given access—he was a man, after all—but he’d hoped the nuns might let Davina enter the abbey alone.
They didn’t.
Abbess Anna was a tall woman of around forty winters.
She had well-drawn features and might have been considered pretty if her expression hadn’t been so stern.
The black tunic and veil, and the white wimple that surrounded her face, removed all traces of femininity from her.
The woman’s face and hands were the only skin she revealed to the world.
Earlier, Lennox had rung a bell and waited until a small wooden shutter pulled back and a reserved female voice enquired who was calling.
Davina had asked to speak to the abbess on a matter of great importance, and the shutter had whispered closed.
It had taken Abbess Anna a while to respond—but here she was.
Two small terriers had followed her outdoors, and the dogs now played behind her, their growls drifting across the compound as they fought over a scrap of bone.
Ignoring the noise, the abbess cast a cool look over the man and woman standing before her.
“How can I help ye?”
Davina stepped forward, her head bowed in respect.
“Reverend Mother. My name is Lady Davina Campbell, daughter of the Lord of Glenorchy … and I am here to request entrance as a postulant into this order.”
A brief silence followed before the abbess replied.
“I had no word from yer father of this.”
“No, Reverend Mother. The decision was taken quickly … there was no time to send a letter ahead.”
Lennox’s gaze shifted between Davina and the abbess.
The older woman was observing Colin Campbell’s daughter with interest. But that was to be expected—for she hadn’t heard the rest yet.
Lennox admired Davina’s determination, although on the boat ride here, he’d refrained from pointing out that he didn’t hold much hope that she’d gain entry to Iona—not without those two bags of coin.
Davina had a hard enough task before her as it was without him dampening her spirits.
“We brought a fine dowry from Kilchurn Castle,” Davina said, keeping her gaze bowed.
“But yestereve, in Oban, I was robbed. Now, I have nothing but a small purse of coin and this brooch.” She reached up, her finger stroking the amber that gleamed gold in the sunlight.
She paused then. “It belonged to my mother, a Maclean, like ye, Reverend Mother.”
The abbess inclined her head, while her expression had shuttered.
“Is that so?”
“Aye, we are second cousins, I believe.”
Lennox fought a smile.
Davina was a wily one.
He wondered if that was the truth; even so, it was a clever ploy.
If Campbell’s daughter could appeal to this woman’s compassion, and clan loyalty, she might just overlook her lack of dowry.
But Abbess Anna didn’t comment on their kinship.
Instead, she huffed a sigh.
“That is ill news indeed about ye being robbed.”
“Aye, Reverend Mother,” Lennox spoke up then.
“A man we rescued from brigands on the road ended up betraying our trust.”
The abbess’s gaze snapped to him, her blue eyes narrowing.
“Can ye not hunt him down?”
“Three of my men are doing so as we speak … but he got a head start on us and has headed north.”
The abbess shook her head slowly, her mouth pursing.
She then turned her attention back to Davina.
“Ye have been unfortunate indeed, my child,” she said softly.
“And I wish I could welcome ye. But without a dowry, I cannot.”
Lennox stilled, while beside him, he heard Davina’s swift intake of breath.
“I will work hard,” she assured the abbess huskily, “and be a credit to this order.”
“Of that, I have no doubt … but if I break the rules for one, others will follow.” The abbess paused then and shook her head once more.
“We live in isolation here and rely on the patronage of clan-chiefs and chieftains to survive. If I start accepting postulants without dowries, we shall be overrun.”
Lennox’s mouth thinned at this flimsy excuse.
That wasn’t the real reason.
The truth was that for all their talk of abstinence and austerity, the church hoarded its riches.
It loved gold and silver as much as everyone else.
“Reverend Mother.” Davina sank to her knees then, her hands coming up to clasp before her.
The sight made Lennox’s pulse quicken.
He didn’t like to see Davina like this.
Her voice had cracked then, revealing her desperation.
He wanted to step forward, haul her to her feet, and tell her that she kneeled to no one—but that wouldn’t help matters.
And so, he watched as Davina started to plead with the abbess.
“I beg ye to grant me yer compassion and mercy.” The words tumbled out of her.
“To make one exception.”
“Perhaps ye can return home and collect another dowry, my child,” the abbess replied, irritation creeping into her voice now.
She wasn’t appreciating Davina’s display.
“We will speak again then.”
“My father emptied his coffers to give ye such an offering, Reverend Mother,” Davina replied.
“The Lord of Glenorchy will not be short of funds, I’m sure,” Abbess Anna sniffed.
Meanwhile, her dogs started yapping as they now chased each other around the yard.
Davina looked up into the abbess’s face, tears glittering in her eyes.
“He has washed his hands of me,” she whispered.
The abbess’s tall frame stiffened.
“And why would that be?”
Lennox’s pulse quickened further.
Christ’s teeth, why had Davina mentioned that?
Abbess Anna was looking for a reason to deny her, and she’d just handed one over.
Realizing this, Davina dropped her gaze once more.
Tears trickled down her cheeks, and something deep inside Lennox twisted.
Davina didn’t deserve this humiliation.
“I refused to take a husband … and he lost his patience. He has cast me out. I have nowhere else to go.”
The abbess’s finely drawn eyebrows arched.
“I have the feeling there is more to this tale than ye are telling me. Unfortunately, I’m not here to provide refuge from family squabbles. Not once during yer pleas have ye mentioned yer piety, yer devotion to the Lord. Ye will have to return home and throw yerself at yer father’s mercy.” She gave a heavy, irritated sigh then and stepped back, making it clear that she didn’t wish to continue the conversation.
“I wish ye a safe journey home, my child. May the Lord bless ye and keep ye.”
And then, with a swish of heavy robes, Abbess Anna turned, called to her terriers—who took off yipping excitedly across the compound—and strode back inside the abbey.
A moment later, the heavy wooden gate swung shut in their faces.
Silence fell, broken only by the whine of the rising wind around them—and then Davina covered her face with her hands and started weeping in earnest.
Lennox watched her for a moment, his gut clenching, before he moved.
He couldn’t bear it.
He couldn’t let her cry as if her heart were breaking.
Shifting close, he slid his hands under Davina’s arms and lifted her to her feet.
The feat was an easy one, for she was slender and as light as a child.
Sobs shook her body as he put his arms around her and pulled her close, letting her weep against his chest.
Under normal circumstances, he was sure Davina would have shoved him away and torn strips off him for being so bold.
But such was her upset, she merely clung to him, as if he were a rock and she were drowning.
And there they stood, the wind eddying around them and snagging at their clothing.
Lennox didn’t speak.
There was nothing he could say to ease Davina’s upset.
All he could do was hold her and wait for the storm to pass.
She would be disappointed, for she’d been pinning all her hopes on beginning a new life at Iona Abbey.
But fate clearly had other plans for Davina Campbell.
It seemed she wasn’t meant to be a nun.
Lennox cast a dark look at the closed gate.
That woman could have bent the rules for her, yet she wouldn’t be moved.
“Come, lass,” he said eventually as Davina’s sobs quietened.
Her face was buried against his gambeson; he could feel the dampness of her tears soaking through it and the léine he wore underneath, yet he didn’t mind.
On the contrary, it felt strangely right—as if she belonged in his arms.
Panic jolted through Lennox at this realization, and he gently drew back, pushing her away from him.
Maybe holding her like this wasn’t a good idea, after all.
It roused sensations he didn’t know how to deal with.
Davina sniffed loudly before reaching up with a shaking hand and wiping at her wet, flushed cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she rasped.
“I don’t know what came over me. I don’t usually make such a display.”
“Ye were disappointed,” he replied, resisting the urge to reach out and brush away the tears that still trickled down her face.
“That’s all.”
“The abbess is right,” she admitted roughly, glancing across at the closed gate.
“I’m not devout enough.”
Lennox’s lips pursed.
“I fear that was but an excuse, Davina,” he replied, unable to prevent skepticism from rising in his voice.
“It’s the gold she cares about, not yer piety.”
Davina’s gaze met his, her eyes glittering.
“Maybe ye are right,” she murmured.
Lennox sighed. “Let’s go down to the pier,” he said gently, putting an arm about her shoulders and steering her away from the abbey.
“There’s no point in remaining here.”
Davina nodded.
Stumbling at his side, she allowed Lennox to lead her down to the water.
“Well?” the birlinn captain greeted them, his gaze traveling from Lennox to Davina.
“I take it things didn’t go well?”
Lennox shook his head.
He then glanced over at where Fergus and Elliot were watching him.
Meeting Fergus’s eye, Lennox’s mouth curved into a humorless smile.
“Lady Davina is coming back with us.”