Connor knew he was right. It was impossible to close his eyes, but he did eventually sit down. Quinlan fell asleep in one of the chairs near the entrance. Connor ordered him to go upstairs and sleep in one of the bedrooms. His friend didn't want to leave, of course, but as soon as the suggestion was given as an order, he was forced to obey.

For the rest of the night, Connor sat alone at the table in the darkness, waiting for dawn to arrive. He pictured every possible horror that could happen to his gentle wife until his mind rebelled and he simply couldn't take any more.

It was the longest night of his life.

The following day wasn't much better. He and Alec took turns questioning every soldier who had been left behind to guard their laird's fortress. No one knew anything that could help them.

Connor was going to leave for home to question his own people in the hope that Brenna might have said something to one of the servants that would help him find her, and as impatient as he was to get going, he also wanted to hear what each Kincaid soldier had to say.

The soldiers in charge of the drawbridge entered the hall just as Quinlan stepped forward to offer a suggestion. "Could she have gone to Faith?"

Connor rejected the possibility. "She didn't know her sister was in any danger. By the way, where did you put Faith, Alec?"

His brother didn't know what he was talking about. Quinlan explained while Connor continued to pace about the room.

Jamie came into the hall and sat at the table to listen to what the soldiers told her husband.

"Of course Brenna knew. I would know if anything happened to my sister. How she found out isn't important now. Oh, Lord, the medallion," Jamie cried out. She ran over to Connor. "I thought she lost it, but when the priest gave it back to her, he told me it had never been lost at all. Don't you understand? Brenna must have sent Father Sinclair to her sister. She gave him the medallion to show Faith so she would know she was to do whatever the priest instructed her to do. I knew Brenna was clever, but this amazes me. I know I wouldn't have thought of it."

Alec questioned his men then, a strenuous undertaking because of Connor's ranting and raving, and in little time at all they knew how Brenna'd managed to leave.

Only one priest was reported coming inside the keep under Douglas's watch, but two priests had left when Niell was in charge.

Connor weighed the damnation of his soul for eternity against the temporary pleasure he would get if he throttled a man of the cloth.

"With your permission, Laird?" Niell asked.

"What is it?"

"I don't think the priest knew she was following him. He went out first, riding his speckled gelding, and pulling the reins of a packhorse behind him. The second priest walked well behind the horses."

"And you didn't think this was peculiar behavior?" Alec roared.

"He was small, Laird. I thought he was yet to be ordained and that he was required to walk as penance."

"Now all we have to do is find out where the priest was going," Alec said.

"Dunkady Abbey," Jamie blurted out.

"You're certain?" Connor asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"If he was telling the truth," her husband said.

"For heaven's sake, Alec. He's a man of God. Of course he was telling the truth."

"I'll leave immediately," Connor said.

"I'm going with you," Alec and Jamie both announced at the same time.

Connor shook his head. "I have to do this alone."

"Not without your men, you don't," Alec warned.

Because he didn't want to waste time arguing with his brother, he told Quinlan to go to the keep and get the others. "You can catch up with me," he told him.

The monastery was only a short day's ride away by his measure. If Brenna was riding the packhorse, God only knew how long it would take her to get there.

He forced himself to block all thoughts but one. He had to get to his own sweet Brenna. He was lost without her.

Brenna was inconsolable. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and couldn't stop crying long enough to make any sense to her sister.

Faith soon threw her hands up in despair. After she handed Brenna a dry cloth to wipe away her tears, she tossed the soaked square in the laundry box with the others, and then sat down next to her sister on the narrow cot in her bedroom. For what she swore was going to be the last time, she tried to get her sister to listen to reason.

"You really have to stop this mourning. We've already been thrown out of chapel because you were making so much noise."

"We weren't thrown out. We were just encouraged to go back to our rooms."

"What about dear Father Sinclair? He can't pay attention to his daily vespers, thanks to you. Why won't you listen to us? You told me you love your husband."

"Don't you understand? He made his choice when he left me. He doesn't want me or my love. He never did. She's part of his past, and he's never going to let go of what happened. No, I can't go back. It would hurt too much."

The need to blow her nose ended her protests. Faith still didn't understand. "You never used to cry. If loving someone makes a woman miserable, I swear I'm never going to fall in love. I wish I never had to get married either. For the love of God, will you stop crying? Perhaps if you went back and tried once more… If you told him how you feel…"

"He knows how I feel even though I didn't give him my declaration. He's intelligent, Faith. And so am I," she added. "I know when I'm not wanted. I can't talk about this anymore."

"What if he comes for you?"

She shook her head. "He won't."

"But what if he does?"

She let out a sigh. "I would think his pride forced him to come here. I wouldn't go back with him. Can't we talk about something else?"

Faith ignored her suggestion. "Gillian might not let you come back with us. Then what will you do? Stay in the abbey for the rest of your life, making these poor monks miserable?"

"My brother won't deny me. Did I tell you Connor doesn't even know how many brothers and sisters I have?"

"Yes, you've mentioned that fact to me about a hundred times now. You want children, don't you? If you go back…"

"I do want children, but I'm not about to leave them with Connor."

"Now what are you talking about? Go back to him, Brenna. Please, before it's too late. He's your husband."

"Must you nag me?"

Faith decided she had pressed enough for the moment. "Perhaps some fresh air will make you feel better. Let's go outside and stroll about the gardens."

"If we stray from the path, we aren't on sacred ground anymore."

"I don't understand."

"The path in front of the abbey. There's a wooden cross where it ends on the south side and another on the north side. If we step off the path, we aren't safe. I think we should just stay here. Besides, Gillian should be here any time now if Father Sinclair's estimation was right."

"If you insist on hiding here, then we'll hide. At least pull the fur coverings off the windows so the sun can come inside. It's like a tomb in here." Faith didn't wait for her sister to agree or disagree with her. She ran to the window, unhooked the cotton loops, and pulled the thick fur down.

Closing her eyes against the bright sun, she reached behind her head and lifted her hair away from the nape of her neck. "The breeze feels wonderful," she whispered, her face aglow with pleasure. She stayed silhouetted against the light until her arms began to ache. And then she looked out at the landscape.

"Oh… my… God… they're… they're… huge."

"Is something wrong?" Brenna asked.

Mesmerized by the sight before her, Faith couldn't even manage a nod. At the northern end of the abbey were giants for as far as the eye could see. Faith guessed at least forty men rode with the fierce-looking warrior who had separated himself from the others and had ridden closer to the path. Every one of the men was bare-kneed and would have been bare-chested as well if it weren't for the wide strip of material that was pulled up from one side of his waist and draped over his opposite shoulder. Some of them were scarred; others were not. All of them were in dire need of a good scrubbing, haircuts, and decent clothes.