The Highland Henchman (Highland Force Book 2) by Amy Jarecki

Author:Amy Jarecki
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Publisher: Rapture Books
Published: 2014-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Enya inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. The abbot had finally seen fit to pay her a visit, and subsequently allowed her to walk the secured cloisters of the abbey—with a meddling monk trailing five paces behind. Would there be no chance for escape?

She’d also asked the abbot to send for some clothing. Had Lord and Lady Ross forgotten she still wore her dressing gown? She walked a bit faster. Her parents most likely cared not about her state of dress now she was imprisoned away from Halkhead.

On Enya’s fifth trip through the airy hall, Heather bustled in, her hands clasped to her breast.

Hit with a myriad of emotions, Enya wanted nothing to do with the disloyal maid, but then, Heather was her only contact with the world outside the abbey and she might have news from Bran. She planted her fists on her hips. “Good day, Mistress Heather.”

Heather reached out her arms, but pulled them back, bowed her head and curtseyed as a serving maid ought. “I’ve brought you some clothes and have had them placed in your cell, Miss Enya.”

Enya looked to the archaic arched ceiling and sighed. It was a small act of kindness, but it meant a great deal. “Thank you.” Enya outstretched her arms and beckoned Heather in.

The matron welcomed the gesture, her matronly frame providing comfort that brought tears to Enya’s eyes.

Heather trembled, obviously holding in her tears. “I begged Lady Ross to allow me to bring you a kirtle and undergarments.”

“Would she prefer her daughter be seen in her nightdress?”

“Nay, but your father insisted you have no visitors—said you should be wearing a habit and wimple by now. He doesn’t know I’ve come.”

“I wouldn’t think they’d have nun’s clothing here, and it would be rather embarrassing attending mass in a monk’s habit—or my dressing gown.”

“Aye, Miss Enya.”

Enya grasped Heather’s shoulders. “And have you news of Sir Bran?”

“I dressed his wounds last eve. Though the welts are grave, he was in far better condition than I would have expected after spending three days in the pit with no food or water.”

“Did Master Rodney release the eagle?”

“Yes, and I had him attach an arrow so Sir Bran would know it was your doing.”

Enya’s heart soared. Though Heather had betrayed her to her parents, she’d given Enya a warning, and then acted on her word. “That was very thoughtful of you.” Unable to hold a grudge, Enya slid her elbow through Heather’s arm and continued on her walk. “With Griffon released, Bran would not have starved—though I doubt he’d savor an uncooked bit of meat.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Heather’s brow creased.

Enya’s insides churned with unease. “You’re not telling me everything, are you?”

“The men left for Rutherglen this morning.” Heather squeezed Enya’s arm. “I suspect we shall have news of fighting soon.”

“If only I could break free of these walls. I could find a vantage point and fire arrows to protect him—protect all our men.”

“Well then, ’tis probably best you’re here. For if you take up a weapon, you must expect to have it used against you.

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