The Enchantress Read Online Free PDF Page B

through an encroaching patch of dark clouds and sink toward the western mountains, and the chill wind of the Highland winter began to bite into her skin. Her passenger had not stirred once since they began, and only the warmth of his body against her legs kept her anxiety at bay. Then, just as dusk began to descend in the forest, they broke out of a grove of trees, and Laura spotted the shimmering waters of the loch. The setting sun reflected warmly on the buildings of the small convent across the silvery body of water.
    Luck was with her, she thought with a smile, for the Highlander had indeed taken them to the west of Fearnoch. Riding around the loch, past the ruins of the old castle on the western shore, would take no time at all.
    It was nearly dark when they drew close to the convent, and Laura eyed the chimney above the chapter house with curiosity. The mother superior was extremely frugal with her fires, and yet the clouds of smoke billowing from the top of the chimney showed that she was still burning a fire there.
    Knowing how little these nuns spent in terms of their comfort, she found that sign of extravagance somewhat alarming. But that was not the only thing that made her pause as she approached the convent’s low stone walls. As she peered through the small orchard past the outbuildings and the chapter house beyond, she could just make out the shadows of a number of horses tied by the convent gates.
    Laura reined the steed to the left, off the path along the loch, spurring the animal along the wall toward the back gate, which led into the orchard and to a small stone hut just inside the walls.
    The Convent of St. Agnes was not like so many other religious houses that entertained a steady stream of travelers. Though the nuns there were not cloistered, the meagerness of their existence was generally known, and better food and lodgings could be readily found nearby. As a result, with the exception of a weekly visit of a few Sinclair warriors coming to escort Laura and the other nuns to market, no one ever stopped here.
    Climbing down from the horse to open the gate, Laura had a vague sense that these visitors were not the neighboring Sinclairs coming to report the news of her abduction at Fearnoch.
    As she led her mount through the gate, Laura was delighted to see Guff, the convent’s laborer, come out of the hut and shuffle hastily toward her.
    “We have visitors?”
    “Aye, mistress. And a miserable lot, if ye ask me!” the farm hand grouched irritably.
    As he took the reins from the young woman, he eyed the horse and the blanket covered body suspiciously.
    “There’s not a man among ‘em, mistress, with as fine a steed as this ‘un. Did you commit murder to get ‘im?” he asked, hitching a grizzled chin at the unmoving body.
    She smiled at the question and pulled the blanket off the Highlander.
    “Haven’t the Sinclairs returned from Fearnoch?” Laura moved around to the other side of the horse to look at the wound on the Highlander’s head, and Guff followed her.
    “Nay, not a soul has returned as yet! I was thinking you got ‘em tied up in one of your ideas. ‘Tis hardly a...”
    Glancing at the farm hand, she frowned to see him standing beside her, his mouth hanging open in shock.
    “He is not dead, Guff. I just laid a small rock against the side of his thick skull...for his own good.”
    “The laird!”
    Laura looked from the farmer’s shocked face to the Highlander and back. “What did you say?”
    “The laird, mistress! The Ross himself! William...William Ross of Blackfearn. His brother’s the new head priest at St. Duthac’s. They are a mighty family to the south--a good one so long as ye’re not a Sinclair. But I do not think murdering their laird will set well with ‘em, mistress!”
    Laura winced at the sudden knotting in her stomach, accompanied by the certain knowledge that something had indeed gone terribly wrong. Glancing back at the Highlander, she hesitantly pushed back