My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands #1) - Miriam Minger Page 0,2
as a lamb to her bed at night.
Yet sometimes she would erupt into unpredictable fits of wildness where they never knew what she might do. Fearing this afternoon’s chaos was one of those occasions, Sister Agnes reached out her hand in another attempt to coax Magdalene from the water.
“We’ve important visitors drawing near tae the convent, child. It wouldna be a fit thing for them tae see you unclothed. Please take my hand. Magdalene…please.”
Sister Agnes could not guess whether the quiet urgency in her voice or that Magdalene had begun to shiver made the young woman wade toward her. Chilled fingers touched hers, and Sister Agnes grasped them with firm gentleness.
“Good, good, that’s my sweet lass. Climb out and Sister Hestia will cover you with a cloak.” Sister Agnes nodded to the tall nun, who approached cautiously.
The rest of the women stood frozen in place, no doubt holding their breath for fear Magdalene might defy Sister Agnes at the last moment. To her immense relief, she watched as Magdalene threw one lithe leg over the edge of the fountain and then the other. Sister Agnes held fast to her hand as Sister Hestia whisked the black garment around Magdalene’s shoulders.
“That’s fine, Sister Hestia, now step away. Here, child, hold the edges together tightly and soon you’ll be warm.”
With sea green eyes as wide and trusting as a babe’s, Magdalene did as she was told while Sister Agnes allowed herself a long, slow breath of relief.
Yet the battle was not won. She still had to tell Magdalene about her marriage, and those riders would surely arrive at any moment.
Sending a silent prayer heavenward, Sister Agnes drew the young woman toward a stone bench close to the fountain. “Come and sit with me, Magdalene. We must talk.”
At Sister Agnes’s words, the nuns scattered to the recesses of the courtyard and huddled in groups, some wringing water from their sodden clothes while others folded their hands to pray.
Sister Agnes drew Magdalene down beside her, very much aware of the nervous glances thrown their way. She ignored them and focused upon the innocent soul who had grown so very dear to her after four years at the convent. Intense maternal feelings welled inside her, and she enfolded Magdalene’s free hand in her own.
“Dearest child, where shall I begin? I told you visitors were coming soon. They ride here tae see you, Magdalene.”
Sister Agnes felt her throat close with emotion. She waited for some response, but a trio of brown swallows dipping and darting high above the convent roof had distracted Magdalene. Urgently, Sister Agnes touched her cheek to regain her attention.
“You must listen tae me, Magdalene! The riders come for you. They must take you away with them—”
“Away?”
Sister Agnes nodded and held on tightly to Magdalene’s hand as she tried to pull away her fingers. Her stunning eyes, a moment ago so clear and untroubled, had darkened to a deep emerald as if a tempest suddenly brewed inside her.
“Aye, child, away,” Sister Agnes said in a rush, eager to have the weight of the news lifted from her breast. “Your brother, Earl Seoras, has wed you tae one of his barons. An honorable man I’m told, Laird Gabriel MacLachlan, and very powerful, so you mustna be afraid. Sister Therese stood in your place at the wedding, and she returns tae the convent, too. You’ve been asking about her, remember? Now you’ll see her again and your husband has come as well tae fetch you and take you tae your new home—Magdalene!”
Sister Agnes lunged to catch her but she was too late. Gripping the cloak with fingers as white as her face, Magdalene ran like a frightened rabbit to the center of the courtyard, where she spun in confusion.
“Away? Aaaaway?”
Her frantic wail pierced Sister Agnes’s heart, and she hurried toward her. “Child, there’s no need tae be afraid! Gabriel MacLachlan is known tae be a fearsome warrior, yet he is much respected by his people. Surely you will be well treated—”
“No, not go! Not go!”
Sister Agnes’s heart sank. Magdalene’s eyes were so stricken that she knew the battle had been lost. Sister Hestia and Sister Tabitha rushed forward to help but Magdalene eluded all of them, the damp cloak clutched in Sister Agnes’s hand after a vain attempt to catch her before she fled.
Bedlam erupted anew.
A host of shrieking nuns led by Sister Hestia dashed after Magdalene as she scurried stark naked up the steps leading from the courtyard and disappeared down the walkway.