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

her core, but she did not want Henry to know. She had learned long ago—the less Henry knew the better. She took a sip of wine to wet her dry lips. The lamp of the wicked will be put out . What could he have meant? Had he glimpsed wickedness in her? Or did he reveal a flaw in his own character? Either way, she would not soon forget Brother Augustine.

Chapter Three
    Quinn stood in the rear of the chapel, seemingly in quiet reflection when, in truth, he awaited the arrival of Lady Catarina. He had learned from Father Kenneth—right before the good father put himself to bed with a stomach complaint—that following the evening meal and entertainment in the great hall, the lady always went to the chapel to pray before retiring to her chambers for the night.
    The chapel doors swung open. Candlelight illuminated Lady Catarina’s profile. Her olive skin stood out in contrast to the stark white of her wimple and headdress. Eyes solemnly downcast, her thick lashes shadowed her cheeks. Behind her, equally as solemn, trailed two maids, followed by two castle guards. Quinn cursed under his breath as he stepped further into shadow. Catching Lady Catarina alone was going to be no small feat.
    Quinn silently shuffled to the left to have a better view of the lady, who was now hidden behind her entourage. Her rich tunic trailed behind her, dragging across the stone floor until she reached the altar. Kneeling with head bowed, she made the sign of the cross. After several quiet moments, she stood and turned around. The guards and ladies bowed to her and then stepped to the side. With her company following at her heels, she unknowingly walked past Quinn, her head still piously bowed.
    The chapel doors closed behind them. “God’s bones,” Quinn muttered before remembering where he was. Every day blasphemy was one thing—God may have made man in his image, but man’s tongue was all too human. However, blasphemy in His house—that was a different matter entirely. Quinn crossed himself, muttering a quick prayer before he hurried outside, his long stride easily overtaking hers.
    “Forgive me, my lady, I would beg an audience.”
    She did not slow her pace as she turned to meet his gaze. Even in the dim light of dusk and torch, her eyes shone a vibrant amber. Their lightness stood out against the backdrop of her perfectly arched black brows.
    “You may speak, Brother Augustine,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
    Quinn smiled. “Ye remembered.”
    She nodded but offered no more pleasantries.
    He looked at her full lips and watchful eyes. She was beautiful. There was no denying that. In fact, she could have been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His eyes shifted from her lips to the rich, dark skin of her cheeks, then lower to the full curve of her chest, which even her wimple could not hide. She had the body of a woman, rounded and sensual. Her trim waist flared out to full hips. His thoughts strayed to what it might feel like to stroke that curve.
    “Brother Augustine, you wanted to tell me something.”
    Her words rushed over Quinn like a bucket of cold water. He shook his head, banishing his wandering thoughts. He glanced at the guards standing just behind her. Then in a low voice he said, “My lady, could we speak in private?”
    Her eyes grew wide, but before she could utter the refusal Quinn instinctively knew was on the tip of her tongue, he leaned close. “Yer sister, Bella, has sent me. The matter is urgent. Meet me after dark upon the battlements.” He turned away, heading back toward the chapel, confident he had said all that was needed for her ladyship to risk a secret rendezvous.
    ~ * ~
    Catarina slowly rounded her way up the narrow stone staircase, which led from the east wing to the battlements. She had waited until her brief nightly visit with her newborn son was over and her ladies were asleep in their chamber before setting out. Given the late hour, she treaded the steps with some confidence that she would not