Conveniently Wed to the Viking by Michelle Styles

Author:Michelle Styles
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-04-08T12:31:40+00:00

Chapter Nine

At the sound of her aunt’s voice, Ceanna jumped away from Sandulf. Her cheeks burned as if she had been standing in front of a hot cooking fire. Ceanna rapidly straightened the folds of her gown and tried to concentrate. Her aunt’s words confirmed her worst fears. She had failed.

Sandulf gave her an unrepentant look before he stepped away.

‘Aunt.’ Ceanna stuffed the nerves back down her throat and held out her arms. ‘How I’ve longed to see you. Come, do not be stand-offish. Let us hug. I’ve travelled a long way to see you.’

‘Niece, it is really you.’ Her aunt awkwardly caught her to her bosom. Her aunt smelt of wildflowers and incense, but it wasn’t a comforting scent, more overpowering and cloying. ‘I feared for you, child. What were you thinking, coming all this way? You should have sent word that you wished my counsel instead of making the journey on your own.’

‘I needed to see you, Aunt. I wanted to explain in person...why I’ve taken this course.’ The words that she wanted to become a holy maid stuck in her throat. She might have practised the speech many times in her head, but saying the words aloud was impossible. Lying to her aunt was wrong. And in this holy place, too! If she could see any other future, she’d take it, particularly after witnessing the silence the sisters were forced to endure. ‘I wanted your advice on my future.’

Her aunt released her and stepped away. Her face became remote and fearsome. Ceanna sighed inwardly. She’d conveniently forgotten what her aunt could be like—it was her way or no way, her mother used to say.

‘I do hope you’re not going to be tiresome, Ceanna. You know I’ll advocate you doing your duty. Always. Prayerful contemplation—something which you’ve been singularly lacking in—always grants me my solutions.’

Ceanna crossed her arms. ‘My duty as I see it, or what my stepmother thinks is my duty?’

Her aunt’s thin lips turned up. ‘Your father has your best interests at heart, Niece, even if his ways can seem brusque. Your stepmother is devoted to me. She would never counsel anything I’d disapprove of.’

It was worse than Ceanna had imagined. Her aunt had already made up her mind. She was going to return Ceanna to Dun Ollaigh without listening to Ceanna’s side. But she couldn’t give up so easily, not when her life was at stake. Ceanna cleared her throat and began again.

‘With respect, Aunt, my father is dangerously ill. Or weren’t you aware that he can barely string a coherent sentence together? His frame shakes when he coughs. His brow burns with fever?’

‘Your stepmother keeps me informed with regular messages. If there was a real problem, she’d send for one of my priests. This monastery has an excellent reputation for healing the sick.’

‘My stepmother has changed greatly in the past fifteen months. Feradach, my father’s new captain of the guards, has rapidly wormed his way into her confidence. Why are you willing to believe

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