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someone had told him that the feisty, sensual woman he’d loved more than life itself had been a nun, he’d have laughed them all the way to hell. Was he damned for loving her? For the things they did together? Beautiful, sinful things.
    Had he somehow entered an alternate universe? Where the hell had she been? She’d not been at Melrose this whole time. He’d have found her. He’d searched months for her. Still looked for her when he traveled to Eilean Donan, crossed a loch or passed a fairy glen.
    She’d simply vanished, and yet, here she was.
    Right behind him.
    Not six feet away. Alive. Full of life. Just as feisty even covered in her gray wool nun’s gown.
    The blood running through his veins grew cold. He didn’t know whether to be relieved, grateful, to leap from his horse and kiss the ground then raise his hands to the sky and thank the divine she was still alive, or to rage at her for simply walking out of his life, no matter what untruths he’d spewed the night he pushed her away.
    Samuel cleared his throat expectantly beside Gregor, obviously wanting an explanation that Gregor wasn’t ready or willing to give.
    Samuel had not been with them when Kay had been at the castle. He wasn’t even certain Catriona would remember. She’d been a young girl then, spending most of her days with her tutors and the other young girls of the clan, practicing how to run a castle, and not keeping tabs on him as she did now.
    They cleared the trees, the heath opening out before them and the bell tower of Melrose within full view. The sun had fully risen, not a cloud in sight. The mist had melted away leaving a dew that glistened on the grass like diamonds. Like the sparks of light that would shine in Kirstin’s eyes when candle flames lit a room.
    Behind them he could hear Kirstin and her companion draw in a breath. Was this her first time seeing it? The abbey was something beautiful to behold. Bigger than most and the windows elegantly carved. He’d seen it many times before, but never had he tried to look at it through the eyes of another.
    Doing so made him angry.
    And there was the kicker, he was angry.
    He might have pushed her away, but she didn’t have to disappear like that, simply vanish, making him fear for her life.
    How many nights of sleep had he lost over the past nine years? Last night included?
    By the time they reached the wooden gates, Gregor was ready to rip her from her horse and demand answers. His muscles were clenched, veins at his temples throbbing. Unable to speak, he simply nodded to Samuel, asking him to take the lead.
    Without question, though his eyes were filled with plenty, Samuel dismounted, disarmed and knocked on the doors. A moment later a small square opening was pulled back and the slim, aged face of an elder nun appeared.
    “Sister,” Samuel started. “I am Sir Samuel de Mowbray, loyal to the Scottish crown, brother-by-marriage to three of your countrymen, Laird Gregor Buchanan, the Earl of Sutherland and Lord Blane Sutherland. We have been summoned by the Bruce. Along our way, we found two of your sisters accompanied by Warriors of God.”
    The woman’s eyes shifted, taking in each member of the group.
    “Where is the laird?” she asked, her voice brittle with age.
    The abbey was certainly trusting to have such a frail creature manning the gate.
    Gregor dismounted and approached, finally able to move without fear of pulling Kirstin from her horse, though the urge was still strong. “Sister, I am Laird Gregor Buchanan. The Bruce is expecting us.”
    She nodded. “Ye know the rules. Leave your weapons.”
    Gregor disarmed, adding his weapons to the pile Samuel had already created. “My men will wait outside, save for Sir Samuel. He comes with me.”
    “Them, too,” the nun nodded in the direction of the warriors flanking Kirstin and her companion.
    The one who seemed to be in charge, who’d argued with Gregor before, quickly dismounted and joined him at the gate.
    The