Chapter 26 #2
Though she’d been Gellir’s betrothed, Carenza claimed she’d never been in love with Gellir.
She said he was good and kind, noble and valiant.
But he wondered. Did she regret leaving him now?
Now that they were forced to hide in a dark, dank cavern of a byre without proper food or clothing or even a marriage bed?
Did she ever wish she’d wed Gellir instead of him?
He glanced again at the page. It appeared to be some sort of verse. Love verse. What would a nun be doing with love verse?
“What is this?” he asked, holding it aloft.
“I told ye—” Eve began.
“Nay!” Carenza interjected. Her voice wavered as she said, “I can’t lie to him, Sister.
” She came to him then and placed a hand on his forearm.
“I can’t lie to ye, Hew.” She lowered her eyes, looking as if she was begging for forgiveness.
His heart sank as he wondered what terrible sin she’d committed.
“That is verse that Gellir wrote for me when we were courtin’,” she said. “It means naught to me. I swear it. I only took it from the castle so there would be no written record of his humiliation. No evidence left to shame him. And I didn’t have the heart to burn such earnest and clever verse.”
“Gellir?” Hew blinked. Clever verse? From his cousin? The idea was ludicrous. He snickered.
That reaction was clearly the wrong one. Carenza looked shocked and appalled.
He explained. “I hate to disappoint you, but these are not Gellir’s words.”
“What? O’ course they are.”
“Nay.” He was sure of it. “My cousin has no talent for verse.”
“Is this not his hand?”
“Maybe. But they’re not his words.”
“But he sent them to me,” she said.
“Through a servant?”
“Aye, but…” She looked uncertain. “If he didn’t send them, who did?”
From behind them, Eve let out a charmed giggle that made them both turn around.
Thankfully she was fully dressed. “I think I may know.” She skimmed the other pages, nodding as if verifying her theory.
“By the way,” she said, casually fluttering her hand, “Gellir is fine. More than fine.” She looked up from the pages.
“Ye see, at the siege, Gellir had an unlikely rescuer. A warrior maid.”
“His sister Feiyan?” Hew guessed. “Laird Deirdre?”
Eve grinned. “His maidservant.”
Carenza’s jaw dropped in wonder. “Not Merraid?”
“Och aye. The wee lass not only fought at Gellir’s back, she earned the respect o’ King Malcolm himself.” Eve began bundling up her discarded clothing. “The king gave her an audience, and somehow, with the help o’ the Pope’s emissary, peace was brokered between the king and the lairds.”
Hew furrowed his brows. What was the Pope’s emissary doing in Scotland?
“But the best part?” Eve teased. “When the king wished to reward Gellir for his loyalty, Gellir asked him to bestow a knighthood upon Merraid.”
Carenza gasped. “And did he?”
Eve nodded.
Hew let out a low whistle. That kind of noble gesture was the stuff of legends.
“Merraid must be elated,” Carenza said. “’Tis all she’s e’er wanted.”
“Och, that’s not all she’s e’er wanted,” Eve said. “Since Merraid had just been dubbed a noble knight, Gellir asked permission from Laird Deirdre and King Malcolm…” She paused to wiggle her brows. “To marry her.”
For a moment, neither he nor Carenza could speak.
When they finally found their voices, they both spoke at once.
“Gellir and Merraid?”
“Merraid and Gellir?”
And then Hew recalled when he’d left Gellir imprisoned in the armory, he’d been shackled to the redheaded maidservant. He hadn’t had time to ask why.
Eve laughed in delight. “So ye see, ye’ve all come to happy endin’s.” She ruffled the pages in her hand. “And I’d wager the alms o’ St. Andrews, ’twas Merraid herself who wrote these verses on Gellir’s behalf.”
“A maidservant writing verse?” Hew scoffed. “And why do that if she was in love with Gellir?”
Eve shrugged. “She probably didn’t think she had a chance at him herself. But if she cared for him, she wanted him to be happy.”
Carenza clapped a hand to her heart and let out a sigh.
“The words were written from the heart,” she said wistfully. “Just not for me. How difficult it must have been for Merraid to be kind to me all that time when I was betrothed to the man she loved.”
Hew knew just how she felt.
“We have to save these verses,” she decided. “They truly are wonderful. ’Twould be a shame to lose them.” Then her eyes lit up as she turned to him. “Perhaps one day we can return them to Gellir and Merraid ourselves, Hew.”
He felt the weight of sorrow crush his shoulders. Eve had said they’d all come to happy endings. But that wasn’t quite true. He and Carenza were still fugitives.
“’Tis not yet safe for us,” he said gently. “The king—”
“Och, Eve!” Eve chastised herself. “Ye left out the best part again.” She clasped prayer hands under her chin and smiled. “Merraid made sure ye and Hew would be forgiven for fleein’.”
Carenza and Eve cheered in celebration.
Hew furrowed his brows. “That’s good news. But I’m not sure it changes much. We might be forgiven for fleeing. But fleeing isn’t the same as defying our lairds and king by marrying without permission.”
Sister Eve flapped her hand at him in unconcern. “I’m sure ’twill be fine. The king’s a romantic, after all.”
But Hew knew affairs were seldom easily solved where royal decrees were involved. At the moment, all he and Carenza had was the wedding document they’d been provided. Not even clan marks were attached to give it authority.
He didn’t wish to dampen their spirits. Eve had come to his aid when he needed her most.
But he questioned how much he should rely on her judgment as to safety in matters of life and death, considering a few things he knew about the nun.
For one thing, she seemed to be Sister Eve only when it suited her.
She somehow had an endless supply of clothing and seldom wanted for coin.
For a woman on her own, she traveled fearlessly far and wide.
And he had to wonder why she’d arrived in a sumptuous velvet gown and was fleeing again in a humble nun’s habit, rushing off as if the Devil were after her.
But he didn’t want to ask too many questions and risk offending her.
Instead he said, “I’m sure you’re right. But I’d feel safer if we had the clan seals and royal approval on the wedding decree.”
Eve shrugged. “Done. Do ye have the document?”
He fetched it from his satchel.
She took the scroll, lifted up her scapular, and stuffed it down the front of her leine.
Before he could utter another word and while Carenza’s jaw still hung open, Eve whirled and headed for the door.
“You’re leaving already?” he asked. Her hasty departure was highly suspicious.
“Aye.”
“But you’re coming back?”
“O’ course.”
“But your gown,” Carenza said.
Eve took a considerate glance at the precious garment. “Hold onto it for me, will ye?”
Then, before Carenza could even close her gaping mouth, Eve peeked out the door and slipped out, continuing on her way, scurrying rapidly across the glen.
To Hew’s surprise, Carenza was first to bring up doubts about their guest.
“How well do ye know Sister Eve?” she asked.
He didn’t want to tell her how close he’d come to swiving Eve when he hadn’t realized she was a nun. “Not terribly well.”
“Do ye trust her?”
“To be honest, not completely.”
“I know, aye? Where did she get such an expensive gown?” she asked, stroking the soft velvet as if it were a pet. “There was definitely someone chasing her.”
Hew nodded. “I don’t think she’d hurt a fly. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”
“And she’s a nun.”
“Right.” Hew didn’t want to have that complex discussion right now. “But I’m not sure she always has her facts right.”
“I’m glad she’s goin’ to get the permissions.
” She looked up at him with creased brows, as if she didn’t want to disappoint him.
“I know ’tis miserable for ye, living alone in the woods with only birds and squirrels for company.
But I’d rather live here with ye till I’m old and gray than come out o’ hidin’ too soon and risk losin’ ye. ”
Hew’s heart melted at her touching words. If she realized how much he’d enjoyed sharing this laborious but rewarding adventure with her, she wouldn’t have apologized. Mostly he was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to dampen their plans to return to Dunlop.
“I love it here,” he said. “You know that, aye?”
Her face blossomed into a pleased smile, as sunny as the primroses blooming in the glen.
“The fresh air,” he said, stepping close to caress her cheek.
“The peaceful woods.” He wound a lock of her beautiful chestnut hair around his callused finger.
“Sparrow song. Morning dew.” He tugged gently on her curl, bringing her close.
“Sleeping when we’re weary,” he murmured.
“Waking whene’er we wish.” He lowered his gaze to her delectable lips. “Trysting when the mood…”
He never finished the thought.
Carenza finished it for him.