Quinn: A Scottish Outlaw (Highland Outlaws Book 2) Read Free

she said in answer to Stephen’s questioning gaze.
    “Well, it is no wonder when you have been cooped up for the past two days.” He plunked down in the chair beside her. “Ride with me today.”
    She smiled at Stephen’s enthusiasm. As the third son, Stephen lacked the responsibility Henry shouldered and the entitlement that—as second son—drove Rupert’s jealously and ambition. Her eyes darted sidelong at Henry for a moment before she replied, “A ride is not included in today’s schedule.”
    Stephen rolled his eyes. “I would not be at all surprised if he started scheduling your visits to the garderobe.”
    Catarina choked on her smile. “Do not let him hear you or else he might.”
    Stephen’s laughter rang out just as two castle guards entered the hall from the courtyard, followed by a large cloaked figure with a black hood pulled low over his shadowed brow.
    Stephen leaned close and whispered, “A Benedictine monk. Father Kenneth will be no doubt be pleased.”
    Catarina hid her smile behind her hand. Father Kenneth possessed a pleasant enough countenance, but after nearly forty years of service to Ravensworth Castle, he found the daily rigors of priesthood overly tasking, which he never let anyone forget. The short, rather stout priest availed himself unduly of Catarina’s time with complaints about his various aches and illnesses. She did her best to hear of each new condition with a compassionate heart, but when he lamented an itchy elbow as if he were riddled with smallpox, she struggled to remain sympathetic. In truth, for a man of nearly sixty years of age, Father Kenneth celebrated excellent health.
    Catarina studied the monk’s approach. His black hooded cloak stretched across wide shoulders, the breadth of which were greater than those of either guard flanking him. She straightened in her seat when, suddenly, he raised his head just enough to lock eyes with her. Black eyes, deep-set and knowing, bore into hers.
    “He is staring at you,” Stephen whispered.
    She blushed and lowered her eyes to break the connection, but still she could feel the intensity of his gaze.
    “My lord, I present Brother Augustine of Glenrose Abbey,” one of the guards said.
    She looked sidelong at Henry. He motioned for the monk to come forward. “You may speak, Brother.”
    She tried to resist looking at him again, but curiosity got the better of her. Brother Augustine stood before Henry with his head still humbly bowed. “My Lord Ravensworth, I ask for yer charity, a modest place to rest and simple fare to ensure I might continue our Lord’s good work.”
    His voice was deep. She dipped her head in an attempt to glimpse his face.
    “Where is Glenrose Abbey?” her husband said.
    “Near Dunshire.”
    Henry sat back in his seat. “You will sleep here in the hall and take your meals here as well. Father Kenneth will require your assistance in the chapel for the duration of your stay.”
    Brother Augustine bowed to Henry and then turned, once more meeting Catarina’s gaze. “Lady Ravensworth?”
    She nodded and extended her hand. Large, warm fingers enclosed hers. She watched with what she hoped was concealed fascination as his full lips pressed against the back of her hand. She looked sidelong at Henry to see if he had noticed the monk’s lingering kiss, but he had turned his back to her and was engaged now in conversation with Stephen. She shifted her gaze, locking eyes once more with Brother Augustine. “The Lord above reminds us of something,” he said.
    She tugged her hand free. “And what is that?” she said, growing increasingly uncomfortable every second those steady black eyes held hers.
    He stepped closer. “The lamp of the wicked will be put out.” He dropped her hand and backed away. A smile curved his full lips the instant before he spun on his heel and left the hall.
    She fought to keep her mask of indifference in place. The monk’s searing eyes and threatening words had unnerved her to