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The Angel and the Highlander(4)

By:Donna Fletcher


“I must insist,” he said, locking his dark eyes with her blue ones, and damn if the color didn’t remind him of the sky on a hot summer’s day, and he felt like melting into them. He cleared his head with a quick shake and spoke forcefully. “Now! I will see the abbess now!”

Sister Terese kept her hard gaze locked with his, then blinked softly several times, closing her eyes, lowering her head, then raising it after a moment and opening tear-filled eyes. “The mother abbess is dead.”

Lachlan didn’t hide his shock. He nearly choked when he asked, “What happened?”

“Mother Abbess succumbed to an illness shortly after our arrival here.”

“I am so sorry to hear that. Have you taken over her duties?”

Sister Terese nodded. “I have.”

While the loss was certainly tragic, it didn’t change his plans and he wanted to see to them immediately. “Then it is you I need to inform that I have come for Alyce Bunnock at the request of her father. I am to return her home so that she may wed.”

Sister Terese rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly.

Lachlan assumed she expected a problem from Alyce and sought to assure her. “There is no need to concern yourself with the situation. I will handle Alyce Bunnock.”

“I’m afraid not—”

Lachlan didn’t let her finish. “Believe me, Sister Terese, whether Alyce wishes to go with me or not, will make no difference. She will return home with me. Now, please, take me to her so I can deliver the news and be done with it.”

Sister Terese stared at him for a moment and then gave a sharp nod. “Follow me.”

Lachlan was surprised when they left the compound, a torch in her hand as she led him down the pine-strewn path. They looked to be headed in the direction of the small cottages, and he immediately wondered if Alyce was so difficult to get along with that they had given her separate quarters.

His curiosity took over when they left the pine path and passed the two cottages. Had they confined Alyce to some remote dwelling to be rid of her?

They finally came to a stop in an area devoid of any dwellings and Sister Terese pointed to a spot just beyond her.

Lachlan glanced at her as if she were crazy. There was nothing there—until the woman raised the torch she carried, the flicking light casting a broader glow across the area.

Lachlan froze when he saw several crosses stuck in the ground, some tilted oddly while a few stood straight.

Sister Terese glared at him. “Not only did Mother Abbess and several of our sisters die, but so did Alyce Bunnock.”





Chapter 2


Lachlan stared at the tilted cross with crudely carved letters, the last squeezed in tightly to finish the name Alyce. It took a moment to comprehend that the grave marked the end of his mission.

“Were you with her when she died?” Lachlan asked. “Her father will want to know that…” He didn’t finish, for he didn’t know how Angus Bunnock would react to the news. Would he cry over the loss of his daughter or would he be relieved that a troublesome daughter was gone?

“I understand,” Sister Terese said softly. “You can tell him that she didn’t suffer and she truly is at peace.”

He nodded, not knowing if it would be enough to assuage Bunnock’s loss, but at least it would be something.

“Please let me offer you and your men food, shelter and rest,” Sister Terese said, “before you begin your long journey home tomorrow.”

She turned and holding the torch high to light their way retraced her steps to the compound. As he followed, he wondered if it would be wise to leave the five vulnerable women unprotected.

He hastened his steps toward her thinking to discuss the matter with her before they reached the door. He halted abruptly when he suddenly found himself too close to her. He tempered his steps to keep an appropriate distance from her, silently admonishing himself for allowing his eyes to fall on her swaying hips and rounded backside.

Looking at her as a desirable woman instead of a nun wasn’t proper, but damn if she didn’t have an attractive backside. It was just the kind he liked, squeezable, especially so when the woman was riding him.

You’re going to rot in hell, Lachlan, for such lascivious thoughts.

His silent warning did little good, since he couldn’t help but think of how her long blond hair would fall over him and tantalize his naked body as she rode him.

Burn! You’re going to burn forever in hell.

His second warning should have been like a cold splash in the face. However, with his loins lusting he’d need more than a splash. He’d need a good dunking in a freezing cold lake.

He jumped at the soft touch to his shoulder.