“I would enjoy Andrew’s company another day.”
“I assume we are finished here?” Terese asked of Lachlan. “I have duties to see to and I wish to speak with Sister Megan before she takes her leave.”
Lachlan nodded. “You have been of great help. We will speak later.”
“As you wish,” Terese said and walked off with Megan at her side.
“What were you thinking?” Lachlan asked once the sisters were far enough away not to hear him. “Wait.” He held up his hand and shook his head. “I knowwhat you were thinking. Do you realize she is Sister Megan?”
Andrew shrugged and shook his head. “What can I say? She’s beautiful, even more so when she smiles, and she’s so damned petite. You know how I love petite women.”
“She is a nun !”
“I know. I know. I’m going to burn in hell for my wicked thoughts.”
Lachlan empathized with Andrew; since he’d probably be burning right along side him.
“Maybe it’s better if you keep your distance from her,” Lachlan suggested, thinking that he should take his own advice.
“I was afraid you would say that.”
“And I’m afraid of what may happen if you don’t,” Lachlan said sternly.
“I understand, but you can’t think I’m the only one looking at these women as women. Since not a one of them wear the traditional robes, it’s hard to think of them as nuns.”
He was right about that, not that Lachlan intended to agree, though neither could he appear blind to his men’s plight. “Regardless, they are nuns and are due respect. Do I make myself clear?”
Andrew hung his head and sighed. “I will be ever vigilant.” He raised his head. “But Sister Megan does need protecting, and I’d like to protect her.” When Lachlan rolled his eyes, Andrew was quick to add, “You can trust me.”
“For two maybe three months?”
Andrew looked stricken, but reassured him. “I give you my word.”
That was good enough for Lachlan, since Andrew’s word was his honor. “Then I shall take you at your word. Now go get five men, though not Kyle or Patrick, they will be the two who return home.” He nodded to the cropping of woods. “Take the men and cut down what is needed for a shelter. The laborious chore will help clear your mind.”
Andrew didn’t argue; he did as he was told.
Lachlan remained where he was, glancing out over the convent. The time spent here would not be easy on his men, though he knew they would treat the nuns with respect, even if they silently lusted after them.
He cringed at the sinful thought, especially since he was no different. But that would stop this moment. There was work to do: men to send home, a shelter to build, hunting to see to. And then there were the mercenaries.
Alyce Bunnock wasn’t his only reason for this mission. Cavan had gladly agreed to Angus Bunnock’s request for help once he learned that mercenaries frequented the area.
Lachlan had come here to see if by any chance his brother Ronan was connected with them. He and his brothers Cavan and Artair had been searching two years now for their youngest brother, Ronan.
Cavan and Ronan had been captured in a battle with a northern barbarian tribe. Soon after, they had been separated. Cavan had found his way home after a year of captivity. Ronan was still missing.
Zia, Artair’s wife and a healer, had tended their brother. The most shocking part of that news was that Ronan had left Zia’s village, but where he had gone no one knew. They had been told by Zia’s grandmother that if they found the barbarian’s daughter Carissa, they would find their brother.
The brothers all agreed that there had to be something that kept Ronan from returning home. Though they didn’t believe him chained or sequestered in a cell, somehow he remained a prisoner. But to whom?
Lachlan hoped the band of mercenaries might have some knowledge about his brother. Cavan had made certain that Lachlan had enough coins on him to buy such information, or if he was
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