IntoEternity (16 page)

“She is in good hands, Alexander.” Davin’s voice broke the
awkward silence that had settled over the occupants of the small room.

“She is in God’s hands, my son. Come. I will show you to a
room.”

Alexander gathered Gusty into his arms and placed a soft
kiss on her now cool brow. He then turned and followed Davin and the old nun
down the dark, silent hallway.

“Open the damn gate!” Malcolm Sinclair followed his demand
by pounding his fists against the outside of the heavy wooden portal.

The spyhole opened and a pair of eyes appeared in the
opening.

“Who goes there?” A muffled voice sounded from the other side.

“Malcolm Sinclair of Clan Sinclair. Open the gate!”

“Ah, Laird Sinclair, it is you. A little too early to be
visiting don’t you agree?” The sarcasm in the voice was apparent. “Or perhaps
you are in need of medical assistance?”

The snicker in the old woman’s voice caused Malcolm’s face
to burn with resentment. He was a frequent visitor to the abbey. But he had
thought that he and his love had been discreet in their meetings. Obviously
not.

“Of course not. I have come to see my daughter.”

“Come back when the sun is up then.”

“Nay, damn it! Open the bloody gate now!”

Sister Margaret, who guarded the abbey gate, refused to
budge in her resolve. She refused to let the giant chieftain who pounded his
fist against the wooden barrier. She had dealt with this Highland laird on more
than one occasion and knew he had an explosive temper. But he was on the
outside of the very sturdy gate and she was on the inside. His threats did not
bother her. It was her duty to turn him away at this hour. She was not about to
break the rules set down by the Mother Abbess by allowing a man into the
sanctuary at such an inappropriate hour.

“Nay, Laird, you will not disturb the peace of the abbey.
You may come back in the light of day for a visit. Be off with you, you know
the rules.”

She put her eye to the spyhole and studied the frustrating
man. The set of his jaw told her he was not about to give up.

“My daughter is in there, perhaps dying, I want to be with
her.”

The passion in the deep timbre of his voice almost changed
Sister Margaret’s mind and she raised her hand to slide back the bolt. In all
the years she had known him she had never heard such desperate fervor from him.
But alas she had the safety and rules of the convent to abide by and she would
do her duty. Her hands fell back to her sides.

“I am sorry, Laird, you will have to come back in a few
hours.” Not wanting to prolong his agony, she closed the spyhole door, latching
it with resolve. It was really for the best, she told herself over and over as
she made her way back to her own cell.

If he wasn’t so frustrated and angry, Malcolm would have
laughed at the little old nun whose head did not even reach his waist. He had
faced far more dangerous and intimidating foes in his life but none as
formidable or stubborn as the nuns who resided in this abbey. He felt impotent when
faced with their prevalence. They held on to their strict rules and disciplines
with the tenacity of starving dogs that had found a meaty bone. They would not
give a bit. He shook his head in frustration and paced back and forth before
the heavy wooden gate, muttering curses. He had never felt so helpless.

He had been riding for hours through the cold night only to
arrive here and be denied entrance. With nothing else to do he wrapped his plaid
about his shoulders and sat down beside the gate, settling in until sunrise. He
only hoped his sweet child was well and safe inside.

Disoriented, Gusty lay in the semi-darkness. Slowly she
turned her head to take in her surroundings as she lay on her narrow bed. A small,
bare window high in the wall let in the first rays of morning sunlight. The
room was tiny and square with no decorations other than a lonely crucifix hanging
on the wall next to the door. On the table by the bed sat a pitcher, a bowl, a
candle and a cup. Her mouth felt suddenly dry and she looked longingly at the
pitcher, hoping it held water.

When she first awoke nearly a week ago Gusty had been so
weak she had been unable to leave her bed. It had taken several days of nothing
but meat broth with soggy bread for some of her strength to return. When she
did show some interest in leaving her bed the kind nuns brought her a tray of
real food. She had been sharing her meals with Alexander as he sat with her. At
first the dear sisters frowned on his insistence that he should help nurse her
back to health. Grudgingly they accepted his presence. More than once they had
chased him from her room when they bathed her or she needed to use the
facilities—chamber pot. She’d been amused watching the fight between her
faithful nurses and her demanding significant other. Alexander was a most
stubborn man. Gusty smiled at the thought.

Gathering what little strength she had at her disposal,
Gusty threw back the covers and strained to sit up. For a moment she thought
she had overestimated her recovery from whatever had ailed her and that she was
indeed still too weak to move. But then she realized she was being held down by
a weight that lay across her middle. When her hand came into contact with a
large, hairy limb she squeaked with terror. But as her gaze followed the line
of the arm up to a very broad shoulder she relaxed.

Alexander lay on his side behind her on the narrow bed
wedged between her body and the wall. She’d discovered the reason she felt so comfortably
warm. His body was like a furnace at her back. She sighed and lay quietly,
absorbing the wonderful feeling of euphoria that settled over her. But the loud
rumbling noises coming from her stomach reminded her how hungry she was. Her
throat was also fiercely dry. She glanced at the cup and pitcher on the small
table again and decided to get up and help herself to a drink of water.

A light knock at the door had her head whirling around and
she sat up as best she could. She pulled the covers up to her chin and waited
as the door opened slightly and a small covered head appeared.

“Ah you are awake. Good. Mother Abbess instructed me to look
in on you to make certain you were comfortable and to see that you have
everything you need. Is there anything I can get for you?”

Before Gusty could open her mouth to ask for something to
eat the old nun rushed on.

“Mother Abbess would like to come by later and speak with
you. She regrets she did not get to talk with your husband but he has
disappeared at the moment. When he does return I will let you know.”

Before Gusty could point out that Alexander had not
disappeared at all but was in fact in bed with her at that moment, the nun
withdrew her head and closed the door.

“Oh my Go—”

She clapped her hand over her mouth and turned to stare down
at Alexander. He’d slept through the whole conversation, clearly exhausted.

She had to bite her bottom lip to stop the giggles. Clearly
the nun who’d come to check in on Gusty hadn’t noticed Alexander lying next to
her. Oh God! How much trouble would they be in if one of the nuns found them
together? She managed to crawl out from under his arm without disturbing him
and then pulled the blanket up to cover all but the top of his head. She took her
pillow and placed it sideways along the bed to camouflage the outline of his
body under the covers. She then stood back and surveyed her handiwork, sighing
with satisfaction to discover she’d done a good job disguising his presence. She
would let Alexander sleep and hope he had enough sense to stay hidden. Another
bout of laughter rose in her throat at the thought of an unsuspecting nun
coming in to clean her room and finding the large Highlander stretched out on
her bed.

She picked up one of the plaids that were draped over the
end of the bed and flung it over her nightdress to use as a shawl. On her way
to the door she stopped and helped herself to a long drink of cool water from
the cup on the bedside table. The liquid felt so wonderful to her parched
throat and she poured a second cup and downed it also before leaving the room.

Once outside her door Gusty stopped and glanced up and down
the corridor, trying to determine which way she should go. She shrugged and
headed off to the right but after several minutes she wondered if she’d made
the right decision. The hallways and foyers seemed to go on forever as if she’d
entered a maze. Before long she sensed she was utterly lost. As panic began to
set in she turned one last corner and released a sigh. The corridor opened up
into a breathtakingly beautiful garden.

As she made her way down one of the paths that cut through
the rows of greenery she quickly realized she’d entered a service garden. Every
single plant, shrub and tree—although beautiful—served a specific medicinal
purpose. Chamomile, cornflower, yarrow, caraway, fennel, coriander, anise, thyme,
chives, dill and more grew in abundance. Their color and aroma was a feast for
both the nose and the eyes…indeed the loveliest garden Gusty had ever seen. Under
the gentle rays of the morning sun the plants sparkled with glistening dew. The
pungent smell of mint teased her nose, overpowering the lesser fragrances of
lavender, thyme and roses. Gusty stopped beside a bush of the spear-shaped mint
leaves, plucked one of them and popped it into her mouth. As if it were a piece
of candy she chewed the leafy pulp, relishing the refreshing taste after the
sour mouth she had awoken with that morning.

She walked along one of the many paths that crisscrossed the
large, walled garden, soaking up the crisp morning air until she spotted a
sun-kissed bench—the only one she’d encountered and so unexpected, she could
believe it had been placed there just for her. She sat down and sighed with
relief. She was weaker than she’d realized and the short stroll through the
garden had nearly used up all her strength. Stretching her legs out in front of
her, she leaned back against the wall to enjoy her surroundings.

She let her gaze wander around the width and length of the
garden until she noticed a woman coming toward her from the other side. The
woman carried a hoe and stopped several times here and there to pull weeds from
between the plants. When she drew to within a few yards of the bench, she
stopped her labors and turned to look at Gusty. Wiping the back of a hand
across her sweaty forehead, the lady blew out a puff of air. She then leaned
the hoe against a nearby tree, pulled off her leather gloves and removed her
wide-brimmed hat, performing each task with grace and precision.

“It is a beautiful morning, is it not?”

At the sound of the lilting voice Gusty raised her gaze to
the woman’s face.
Absolutely
lovely
, Gusty thought, taken aback
by the woman’s beauty. She was in fact the most beautiful woman Gusty had ever
seen. Though not young, the woman’s beauty was an eternal kind that had allowed
her to age gracefully. Her black hair, braided into a thick rope, hung well past
her hips, its beauty only enhanced by the few silver strands at her temples. Her
gentle expression mesmerized and the wisdom in her eyes spoke of long years of
self-discipline and sacrifice. Yet Gusty sensed a loneliness in her even as a
small smile lifted the corners of her lips.

“Yes it is. I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I didn’t realize
anyone else would be up this early.”

The woman laughed. “My dear, this is a convent. Everyone is
up the moment the first rays of the sun light the eastern sky. Matins has come
and gone.”

“Oh then I guess compared to you, I am a slugabed.”

“In my opinion, you should still be in bed. You were not in
the best of health when you first arrived.”

The woman’s expression showed her deep concern but her smile
did not falter.

“Forgive me if this is intrusive, but aren’t nuns supposed
to wear a veil? Aren’t you supposed to keep your hair covered?” Gusty hoped the
woman would not think her too presumptuous.

“Aye, Gusty, they are. But I am not one of the dear sisters.”

“Oh…I did not realize…” Gusty glanced down at her lap and
then back up at the woman. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage… I do not
know your name.”

“That’s quite all right, dear. You were in no condition for
introductions the last time I saw you. My name is Isabelle and I am as close to
being a nun as you can get without taking the vows. I have lived here for many,
many years.”

“Ah I see. Well it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,
Isabelle.”

They fell silent for a few comfortable moments.

“Would you like some help?” Gusty finally asked.

“Nay, my dear. You are straight out of your sick bed and you
should be doing no more than resting on that bench. How are you feeling this
morning?”

“Much better, thank you. A little shaky but I felt the need
to get some fresh air. I did not realize until I finally left my room just how
extensive this place is. It is really different here. So tranquil and quiet.”

“Aye you are correct, it is peaceful here. May I sit with
you?”

Gusty moved to leave a spot for the older woman to sit when they
were distracted by a commotion at the gate of the private garden. The morning
birds, which had been chirping in the trees above them, took off in flight at
the loud bellowing just beyond the wall. A moment later a very large, very
angry man came charging through the opening, a distraught-looking nun following
at his heels, one hand on the man’s arm as if trying to hold him back.

“I’m so sorry, Isabelle,” she called. “He would not wait for
me to come and get you.” The nun apologized as she and the formidable man came
to a stop.

“It’s all right, Mother, Malcolm has come to keep us
company.”

“All right, dear, but you just kick him out if he gets too
ill-mannered.”

“Oh I have no doubt he will be on his best behavior while
inside such sacred walls.”

Isabelle’s tone held a note of warning for the large man and
after a moment her words seemed to penetrate his anger. He nodded brusquely and
the old woman released him.

“Isabelle.” He started toward her but then his gaze turned
toward Gusty and he stopped.