Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Find out,” Lachlan ordered.
Evan nodded and retreated to his position.
Once at the compound Lachlan ordered his men to dismount and wait while he went inside to speak with the abbess. The door opened before he reached it and two women came out carrying pitchers and tankards. They were dressed similarly to Megan though both were taller, one reed slim and the other fuller in figure though shapely. Where the slim one had a pretty face, the fuller one had a lovely face and both wore generous smiles, which added to their appeal.
“I am Hester,” the slimmer one said, and with a nod toward the other woman she introduced her: “This is Rowena and we have ale for your men, for they surely must be parched.”
“Thank you. We appreciate your generosity,” Lachlan said, giving permission to serve his men and wondering how they could have been prepared so soon to quench the thirst of ten visitors. Again it appeared they had been expected.
Suddenly out of nowhere a whirlwind of dirt and debris swirled from around the end of the compound and when it settled a wiry young woman, her red hair piled wildly on her head appeared. Her pretty face was streaked with dirt, her dark green wool skirt and tan linen blouse dusted with it.
“Haven’t missed supper, have I?” she asked anxiously, turning wide-eyed when her eyes fell on the men.
“No, Piper, but supper will wait until we see to our visitors,” Hester said, handing her a pitcher.
The young woman nodded obediently and followed the other two helping to fill tankards of ale for all the men.
Lachlan wondered where Alyce was, for none of these women appeared a shrew. They were much too accommodating and attractive to be Alyce Bunnock. And thinking of the information he had been given, there should be at least ten nuns besides the abbess. So far he had met four, though not one of them resembled or acted like a woman dedicated to the church.
Megan appeared at the open door. “Please come in. You are most welcome here.”
Lachlan almost took a deep breath in anticipation of the confrontation with the harridan, who he was certain would object to returning home to wed a stranger. However, he let a heavy breath ripple through his body and instead planted a smile on his face ready to charm the abbess, and hopefully tame the shrew enough to get her home for her wedding.
He stepped over the threshold and entered a large room. A stone fireplace covered one wall and two black cauldrons hung over the roaring fire, the contents bubbling and a delicious scent permeating the air. He had to fight not to lick his lips in anticipation of the appetizing taste.
A long table with five chairs at each side and one at each end sat in the middle of the room while a plethora of candles throughout provided the area with more than sufficient light. A soft blue wool curtain hung in a doorway that he assumed led to the nuns’ sleeping quarters.
Not seeing anyone, he was about to ask about the abbess when a woman slowly emerged from the corner shadows. He had expected to see an older woman garbed in robes of one of authority. He didn’t, though what he did see had his eyes popping wide and his loins tightening uncomfortably, not to mention the guilt that weighed heavily on him for finding a nun so damn appealing.
She was at least eight inches over five feet, her body full and curvaceous. While her face was round it was also sculpted, her soft yet defining features making her a rare beauty. Add to that sky blue eyes and wheat blond hair severely drawn back into a long braid that fell over her large bosoms and came to rest at her waist.
This couldn’t be the abbess, though she did appear a woman in charge. Her blue eyes were sharp, her head high, and her stance solid. He admired her mix of beauty and strength.
He silently chastised himself for his lusty thoughts and with a respectable bow of his head said, “Good evening, Mother Abbess.”
“I am not the abbess.”
That couldn’t be the voice of a nun. It was too deep and sultry. He nearly muttered oaths beneath his breath at his outrageous thought but caught himself only to wonder, or was it hope, that perhaps the beauty wasn’t a nun at all.
“I am Sister Terese.”
Was that a punch of disappointment to the gut he felt? Mind your thoughts, he warned himself silently, and ordered firmly, “I need to speak with the abbess.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Sister Terese said just as decisively.
Lachlan had enough. He wanted to speak with the abbess and now. He wanted to get Alyce into his custody and ready for the return trip home, leave by first light and finish this task he never wanted part of in the first place.