Highland Sanctuary (30 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Hudson Taylor

Tags: #“Highland Sanctuary is a wonderful medieval tale fraught with rich, #and satisfying romance. In other words, #a plot with depth, #excellent characterization, #a page turner., #compelling drama, #beautifully described backdrops

BOOK: Highland Sanctuary
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It took a moment to gain her balance. She straightened and glanced up at the towering fortress. A silent prayer escaped her whispering lips. Only God could help her now.

 

John led her by the elbow, following Father Kendrick up the stone steps. She counted each one, twelve in all. He opened one side of the double oak doors, holding the heavy structure for their entrance.

 

A long aisle faced them down the center to the altar, with rows of wooden benches on each side. Serena stared up at the ceiling that seemed to be miles high. Plain candlebras hung from the rafters with unlit candles. The only light radiating throughout the sanctuary was from the lit candles on the walls and at the front altar. Three confession booth doors were on the left side behind the pulpit.

 

She had always wondered what grand images lay behind these stone walls. Now she knew. A painted mural of Mary, the Mother of Jesus, kneeling by the cross where her son was being crucified covered the front wall.

 

The hundred or so benches were empty, but a priest stepped out from behind one of the confession doors. He was young, mayhap Gavin's age. The priest wore a black robe with a silver cross around his neck, resting on his chest near his heart. He greeted Father Kendrick with a smile and a nod.

 

"Good evening, Father George." Kendrick said. "I'll escort Serena Boyd to the guest chamber on the second floor beneath the bell tower. That room has a door with a lock. Would ye tell Father Devlin Broderwick of our arrival?"

 

"Aye." Father George nodded. He left through the confession booth.

 

Father Kendrick led Serena and John through a small door on the other side of the pulpit to a dark staircase at the end of a hall. A cool draft brushed her face. She blinked and kept walking as a shiver passed through her.

 

They stopped outside a door and Father Kendrick sifted through a set of keys hanging on his rope cord belt. He pulled out a long, thin key and unlocked the door.

 

"Do ye have further need of me?" John asked.

 

"Aye. Stand out here in case she tries to escape again."

 

Father Kendrick walked to a far corner, struck some kindling, and lit a candle. He then lit two candelabras on the walls and another candle on a dresser. The furniture was simple, but more than Serena was used to having. A wardrobe sat in one corner, a dresser on the other wall, a simple fireplace, a small table and chair was by the box bed. It would serve well as a writing desk or a place to eat a meal. No windows. At least, they hadn't brought her to a dungeon—yet.

 

Footsteps marched toward the room as the door still stood ajar. A tall man entered also wearing a black robe and a silver cross on a chain around his neck. He rubbed his hands together.

 

"So, you must be the girl I've been hearing about. Are you Serena Boyd?" His English accent surprised her.

 

"Aye." An eerie feeling swept through Serena along her spine. She tried to hide the tremble, but her shoulder shook.

 

The man leaned close. He had black hair with silver streaks throughout his head. His eyes were dark and piercing as he watched her. She longed to look away, but dared not.

 

"Are you sure?" He raised a thick black brow. "I've an idea that you might have another surname."

 

This was the last question she expected. "That is the only name I've ever been told." Serena gave him a questioning look.

 

"Who's your father?"

 

"I don't know. My mither refused to speak of him."

 

"What do you know of him?" he asked.

 

Serena glanced at Father Kendrick, wondering what these questions about her parentage had to do with her fits. He bent his head in a small nod, and she turned her attention back to the man questioning her.

 

"I know he didn't want me when I was born and so my mither took me and left. She refused to give up her only child."

 

"So you may have inherited a rebellious streak from your mother." It wasn't a question, but a statement. He folded his hands behind him and circled around her, taking measure.

 

Serena closed her eyes and swallowed, wishing this would soon be over. Devlin Broderwick was the name Father Kendrick had mentioned earlier.

 

"They tell me you're possessed. Do you agree?"

 

"Nay, I do not. I love God. I've always loved the Lord. Satan cannot love God and be Satan."

 

"So your fits are unwanted." He raised a dark brow.

 

"Aye." Serena looked down at her feet in shame. She had always hated her fits. They shamed her, ruined her life, and made her an oddity among others.

 

"What of your mother?"

 

"What of her?" Serena met his gaze.

 

"Where is she and how has she handled your fits all these years?"

 

"She wanted to come, but they left her at Braigh Castle with Iain MacBraigh, the laird. Please . . . will she be allowed to visit? May I write her?"

 

"Perhaps I'll benefit from speaking with her as well. The better I understand these fits of yours the better I may rid you of them. I make no promises. If we don't succeed, you'll have a public inquisition. If you're convicted, you'll die by burning at the stake. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

 
18

E
velina told Gavin the tale of Serena's birth. Reliving the horror of trying to save her newborn from a murdering father brought fresh tears to her eyes and renewed fear she thought she'd overcome.

 

"I'm amazed ye were able to escape," Gavin said, shaking his head in disbelief. He folded his arms as he stood facing Evelina and Doreen sitting side-by-side on the bed.

 

"I couldn't have done it without Gunna. She hid and fed Serena until I was well enough to travel."

 

"Do ye think he'll figure out that Serena is his daughter?" Gavin asked.

 

"'Tis possible, if he remembers her given name. The Boyd name may throw him off a wee bit. He'll be thinking of my maiden name—Anderson. Boyd was my mother's maiden name." Evelina smiled, remembering her mother's goodbye kiss on the top of her head at Evelina's wedding. Neither of them had known it would be the last time they would see each other. "Serena is named for my mother's mother. She was Spanish."

 

Tilting his head, Gavin gave her a curious glance. "Are ye from the Boyd family connected to the royal family?"

 

"Aye." Evelina nodded. "My great-grandfather was a duke."

 

"Oh my, a duke is a grand thing, to be sure," Doreen mumbled in admiration.

 

"I thought it best if Serena not know these things. I feared the temptation to discover more of her kin would overcome the logic of staying here where it's safe." Evelina sighed, and looked out the window at the sea. "But all that has changed now. She's no more safe here than anywhere else."

 

Gavin approached Evelina, bending to her eye level. "Ye're all the family Serena has. Ye may be the only one they'll allow to visit her. Would ye be able to do that knowing ye might come face-to-face with Devlin?"

 

"Aye, I've naught to lose. He already has her." Evelina licked her bottom lip in thought. "Mayhap I'll be able to help change his mind—to help her. Twenty years is a long time to dedicate to the kirk. I'd like to think that some of God's word has taken root in Devlin's heart and softened him."

 

"Do ye think ye're well enough to ride?"

 

"Aye." Evelina nodded.

 

"Good. Then ye're coming with me." Gavin turned to Doreen. "Can ye occupy Iain for a while and give us time to escape?"

 

"I'll do my best." Doreen nodded.

 

"Take only what ye can carry," Gavin said.

 

A few minutes later, they were ready. Evelina hugged Doreen. "Thank ye for everything."

 

"I wish I could've done more," Doreen said. "Take care an' let me know when she's safe."

 

 

 

 

 

They left the chamber, keeping quiet as they passed through the hall. With Serena gone, no guard watched the chamber. Gavin led Evelina through a back entrance that Leith had discovered a fortnight ago. She waited outside the stable by a cart so she wouldn't be seen. Gavin prepared Sholto and walked him out to where Evelina stood. He mounted, and lifted her up behind him. Once she was settled, they were off.

 

Philip would be their only obstacle at the gate. An idea came to him and Gavin guided Sholto toward the barracks. He hoped the men would be heading toward their quarters now that most of the day was gone and they would be ready to wash and clean up for the evening meal in the great hall. A few were walking in pairs and threes from the well to the barracks.

 

Gavin pulled up beside three young men not much older than Leith. "Have ye seen Craig or Roan?" The taller one tilted his dark head behind them. "Roan is waiting for a turn at the well, but I canna recall seeing Craig."

 

"Nay, me neither," said the one in the middle.

 

"Thank ye," Gavin said. As he approached the well, Roan noticed him and stepped out of line to meet him. Gavin leaned over. "I'm taking Evelina to see Serena, if they'll allow it. I don't want Iain to discover our absence for awhile—I need enough time to give us a good head start."

 

"Ye think he'd try to stop ye?" Roan raised a wrinkled brow.

 

"I don't know, but I canna take a chance. He seems awfully concerned about losing favor with the kirk. He's given Serena his word to protect Evelina, so he might demand to travel with us. I'm afraid he'll slow us and I'm concerned he wouldn't deny the kirk information if pressed. I plan to stop and discuss an escape plan with Father Tomas since he's been to the cathedral. So try to detain Philip so we can get past the gate. I'll wait about twenty minutes. Send someone to raise and lower the gate and tell Leith."

 

"Aye." Roan reached up and slapped Gavin's arm. "I'll take care o' it. Ye can count on me."

 

"I know it, mon."

 

To his relief the wait didn't take long. Gavin rode out of the cover of a low-hanging tree and into the shadow of the gatehouse. The bars groaned against the stone casement as Roan cranked the rope wheel. Gavin rode through to freedom. As soon as they were beyond the huge drop in the hill and back over to the other side, their ride would be smooth.

 

Evelina clutched him tight as they descended, a gasp slipping past her lips.

 

"Ye'll be fine." Gavin assured her as he glanced over his shoulder. "I've never lost a rider—yet."

 

"I usually ride the wagon," came a muffled voice against his back.

 

The afternoon heat had cooled as the sun drifted lower. Gavin wondered if Serena could see this same view or if they had locked her away in some dark chamber. Sholto eased them up the steep incline. Once they made it, Evelina sighed and relaxed her grip around his waist.

 

Soon they arrived at Father Tomas's cottage. Tender meat roasted over a fire. The aroma drifted through the open front door, luring them inside.

 

"Tomas?" Gavin called, not wanting to barge in on him without an invitation.

 

"Come in. I'm preparing the evening meal."

 

Gavin gestured for Evelina to enter before him. He followed close behind.

 

"Have a seat and make yerself at home while I get two more plates." Father Tomas glanced between Gavin and Evelina. His expression sobered. "What's happened?"

 

Gavin told him about Serena being taken. "I was hoping ye'd be able to help me plan her escape."

 

"First, we'd have to know where she's being held, if it's locked in, guarded, and bound."

 

"I'm hoping Evelina will be allowed to see her and then she can report back to me all that we need to know. Could ye draw a map of the inside of the cathedral from memory?" Gavin asked.

 

"Mayhap, but I'd prefer to go with ye. She may need some spiritual counseling by the time they're done with her."

 

 

 

 

 

Serena woke with a start. Her dreams had been disturbing with a dark shadow chasing her through the woods. Her heart raced at a frantic pace as if it had been real.

 

She blinked, trying to open her tired eyes wider, but the chamber was cast into complete darkness. Cold hovered in the air, chilling her nose. She had slept in her clothes. No one had given her any other garments, and she wasn't given time to gather any of her own.

 

Sitting up, she ran her fingers through her tangled hair. She pushed aside the cover and smoothed her wrinkled dress. Serena slid her bare feet to the wooden floor and winced as her toes curled up at the biting air. Soon every morning would bear this chill as fall set in.

 

Her throat swollen and dry, she swallowed, wishing for some water, but they hadn't even supplied a wash basin. Reaching out her arms, Serena made her way to where she thought the door was located. She bumped into the wall, felt around until her fingers touched the iron handle. She twisted and pulled. It was locked.

 

Disappointment and frustration assailed her. Even though she knew it would be locked, she had hoped. . . .

 

She stumbled over to the table and then the dresser, seeking a candle, but felt naught. Had Devlin taken it with him? Was she to remain in this bleak darkness until someone returned?

 

Serena stifled a sob and inched back toward the bed where her right knee hit the hard box bed. She smoothed her bruised flesh, blinking back stinging tears. Lifting her chin, she crawled onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her legs.

 

"Lord, please help me." She let the tears flow. "What have I done to be plagued with these horrible falling fits? Why me? Please take them away!" She dropped her head onto her bony knees. "Please . . . please," she whispered. "I don't want to die upon a burning stake. I'm a child of God. Save me."

 

After a while her tears faded and her wet cheeks dried. Serena's stomach churned with hunger, but she tried to ignore it. Instead, she thought of the sea below the cliffside of Braigh Castle, willing her nerves to calm.

 

A key turned in the lock, startling her. She clutched her plaid at her neck, mentally preparing herself for the unknown. If only they were bringing food, her belly rumbled again.

 

A burning candelabra with five lit candles appeared around the door, and Devlin followed with a menacing scowl upon his face. He squinted, his mouth slanting as his gaze landed upon her curled up in the corner.

 

His soles made the only sound in the room as he walked toward the table and set down the candelabra with a tiny clink.

 

"Today begins your exorcism." His harsh tone sent a shiver up her spine as it had yesterday when she'd first met him. "For the time being, you'll receive no food or water. I find it best to weaken the flesh during these difficult moments. If the flesh is weak, then it'll not fight the Holy Spirit so hard, and we can work faster to remove the evil spirit taking residence inside you."

 

Serena stared at him. He was mad! Her fate was in the hands of a madman.

 

"As long as there is no violence on your part, you'll remain unbound. Is that understood?"

 

She nodded.

 

"Now, let me give you a bit of my background. I think it may be important to you." He paced back and forth, touching the tips of his fingers. "I was once wed to a young girl who bore me a child, a daughter, who had fits similar to yours. When I made it clear that I wouldn't tolerate any kind of evil in my household, my wife left with the child—along with the nursemaid."

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