“These men are Richard and my guests for as long as they need to stay. We came inside because we wanted to pray. I hope you are not displeased by it.”
“Of course I do not mind, Lily.” He smiled at her and her guests. “Why would I? Church is for the sick, not those who are already well.”
“None of us are well,” Brother Simon grinned. “That is why…” He turned and presented them to the altar where a sculpted cross rose out of the ground. “I am Brother Simon of the Carmelite order and this is Elias MacPherson of Invergarry.”
Father Benedict balked and turned his stern dark gaze on her.
“We are no friends of Bertram Chisholm,” Elias was quick to reassure him, “and if he were here, I would kill him.”
Everyone, including Lily, turned to Elias. Father Benedict looked stunned and appalled that such talk left Elias’ lips in the house of God.
“I think our prayers are over.” She offered them all a smile and left the bench on the other side of Brother Simon. “Come please, let us continue speaking outside.”
All the men followed her out into the brisk air.
“Father, Richard has asked them to stay at the house and help him move all the pots and sacks. You know how difficult ‘tis for him, especially this time of year.”
“Aye, “ the priest began, “but where is—”
“My husband went to speak with Osbert about a matter of grave concern.”
“What is this matter you speak of?” Father Benedict asked curiously, and then became more authoritative when he asked again.
“We heard rumors of a terrible sickness overtaking France. Richard thought to ask Osbert if he had heard anything more on the matter, and these two men fought beside soldiers in Sénanque Abbey in Provence. When they heard this rumor, they wished to pray for their brothers.”
Father Benedict wanted more facts. When Lily told him she didn’t have anymore yet, he insisted on going back to the shop with her to wait for word.
They all walked back and on the way, Lily thought to ask why her guests had no horses.
“We do,” Elias answered her, coming a bit closer while Brother Simon asked Father Benedict a host of questions. “They are at a stable near The Pheasant Inn. After we spoke to Estrid, we decided to leave the horses there. ‘Twas a good day fer walkin’. A bit warm though.”
She angled her face at him and smiled. “Aye, Scotland is colder, is it not?”
He nodded. “I almost grew overheated walkin’ back.”
She laughed softly then covered her mouth with her hand and threw Father Benedict a guilty look. But he was too busy arguing doctrine with the younger brother and hadn’t taken notice of them.
“The Highlands are even colder.”
“Is that where you live?” she asked. “In the Highlands? It sounds very far away.”
“’Tis, and the journey can be taxin’ at times.” His smile deepened. “But ‘tis worth the effort. Our land is breathtakin’ and majestic, with jagged mountain ranges that go on fer what seems like forever. It can be dauntin’ to look upon if ye are lost.”
She lifted her hand to her chest and drew in a breath of air, then smiled. “Just hearing of it robs me of breath.”
His gaze went soft on her, as did his smile. “Once ye grow familiar with yer surroundin’s the landscape becomes even more wildly breathtakin’.”
She let out a small laugh. She wasn’t expecting him to pull even more air from her. “You make me regret that I will never see it.”
She was glad and relieved that he didn’t ask her foolish questions like how she knew she would never see it. He knew she was correct, and he knew why. She liked him all the more for not pushing.
“What aboot ye,” he asked while the two men of God began to find some common ground behind her. “How do ye like livin’ here fer the past…”
“Two years,” she supplied. “I love it here. These people are my family. I do not know where I would be without them. I will likely live and die here.”
As grateful as she was to Richard—as much as she loved him for saving her, she felt a bit sad that she would die here. She loved everyone in the village and would miss them and likely finally cry herself to sleep for a month over them if she left, but some innate sense within her wanted to fly away from everything.
And Elias MacPherson had awoken it.