woman was slight in
body, but in spirit she was a giant. She had stored away the hurt he’d just
caused her and was gallantly facing her future. Pride swelled dangerously
within his chest.
The priest nodded as he withdrew a
white cloth from his robes and dabbed at his forehead. “Your full name?” he
asked Iain.
“Iain MacLeod,” he replied. “And
Angus MacLeod will be the witness,” he added in an effort to hurry the priest.
Father John frowned at Iain before looking
to Angus. “Angus, are you a willing witness, or do you fear the MacLeod will
kill you if you decline?”
“Father,” Marion chided. “That was
not very fair. Iain would never kill a man for such a thing. He has assured me
he only kills those who try to kill him first.”
Iain laughed at the priest’s
suddenly pale face and Marion’s attempt to defend him. He was pleased she was
showing such faith in him and such understanding already. “Go on, priest,” Iain
commanded. “We must escape this place presently.”
Angus came to Marion’s other side.
“Father, I willingly witness for Marion.” She quickly hugged Angus, who patted
her back.
Father John nodded and rushed
through the rest of the ceremony, sighing when it was over. Iain glanced at the
priest, deciding what should be done. “Ye better come with us,” he said. “Baron
de Lacy will likely kill ye when he learns that ye married us.”
Marion nodded. “Yes, Father John,
you must come.”
“No,” the priest said stubbornly,
surprising Iain—and Marion, as well, by the way her jaw dropped open. “I swore
long ago to save your father’s soul, my dear, and I’ll not abandon my sacred
vow, even if it means my own death because he’s angry that I married you.”
Marion threw her arms around the
priest, who looked distinctly uncomfortable with the contact. “I’ll pray for
your safety, Father John, and for my father to stay his hand and his temper.”
Father John nodded as he
disentangled himself from Marion’s hold. “You should go.”
“It’s daft for ye to stay, vow or
nae,” Iain said. “The baron will kill ye, I’m sure.”
The priest shook his head
disapprovingly. “I would think a man such as you would understand a sacred
vow.”
Iain scowled. “I do, but in this
case, I dunnae think getting yerself killed is the best way to keep the vow of
reforming the baron. Ye kinnae reform the man if ye’re dead.”
The priest frowned at Iain. “I’m
willing to risk such things.”
“There are smart risks,” Iain said,
“and then there are dim ones.”
Marion gasped, and Angus laughed.
Marion patted the priest on the arm. “I’m terribly sorry, Father John, for Iain
calling you dim.”
Iain frowned. “I did nae—”
“In my bedroom,” she continued,
cutting Iain off with words and a sharp look, “in the gold cup are my coins.
Please take five—no, you better make that six—and give the rest to the poor
tenants.”
The priest mumbled his agreement,
and Iain’s patience snapped. He grasped Marion’s hand and tugged her toward the
door. “Why did ye tell the priest to take the coins?”
“I’m buying indulgences,” she
explained. “One is for your sin of pride. One is for the knights you killed.
One is for when I lied to my father. Two are for Angus—” She glanced at Angus
with a grin and then eyed him with reproach. “ He refuses to take up the custom
of indulgences and he is almost as proud as you are. And I bought two more for
whatever sins you commit during our escape.”
Iain shook his head at her strange
ideas of forgiveness as he pulled her to his side and stepped through the exit
and into the bailey.
Noise and thick smoke from the
burning kitchens hit him like dual waves, and his eyes watered. A white cloud
seemed to blanket the entire bailey, which was helpful in that it made it
harder to see them, but it also made it more difficult to see their enemies.
As they headed toward the wall they
needed to scale to gain the moat, he
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