Read Online Flame by May McGoldrick - Free Book Online

had responded to his man in the same way that they had
responded to him. They had simply vanished.
    Beyond what had been the gates of the abbey,
Gavin could see the ruined walls of the kirk. While much of the
stone from the abbey walls had apparently been used to construct
the village cottages, the kirk’s walls rose high above the rest.
There was no roof on the building, though, and it had clearly gone
unused for ages. A circle of stone huts, ruder than the thatched
cottages of the village, sat to one side of the church, and as
Gavin rode past the first one, he spotted the old woman.
    She sat on a stone, feeding twigs into a
fire. Yellow flames licked the bottom of a small cooking pot. Gavin
dismounted, tossing the reins of his horse over the branch of a
scrub oak, and approached her, watching keenly as she never once
lifted her head or acknowledged him in any way.
    “Good day to you,” Gavin called out
pleasantly.
    Finally, as she continued to work, the old
woman’s gray eyes lifted slowly and fixed critically on his face.
The Lowlander returned her appraising gaze with one of his own. She
wore a veil of white, but a cross on a leather thong about her neck
was the only indication of religious vocation. Her direct stare
told him that she had no fear of him, though beyond that, a guarded
expression hid any hint of what emotions lay beneath.
    He came to a stop before her fire and
crouched down across from her. “Your face is the first cheerful one
I have come across since leaving Ironcross this morning.”
    The arching of one thin eyebrow and a
narrowing gaze made him retract his words. “Very well,” he said.
“Yours is the only face I have come across to since leaving
this morning.”
    She lowered her eyes, seemingly directing her
whole attention to preparing the fire.
    “Are you Mater?” he asked bluntly.
    “I am.” Her voice was strong, confident.
    “I am Gavin Kerr,” he returned. “I come
from...”
    “I know who you are, laird,” she interrupted,
lifting her gray eyes again to his face. The piercing quality
emanating from their depths gave Gavin the impression that she knew
more than just his identity.
    He realized immediately that this was no
woman for idle small talk. He also knew that she was not one to be
questioned. There was something quite different about Mater, and he
knew in his gut that it would be difficult to win her over. And it
was true that he wanted to win her over. She was the first
soul outside of Ironcross that he’d crossed paths with, but as the
religious leader of the region, right now it was very important to
Gavin that she accept his lairdship. From all he’d gathered from
those at the castle, it was clear that the way to winning the trust
of his folk was through Mater.
    Mater’s attention was focused on her task. As
she stirred the contents of the kettle, the picture of Joanna
MacInnes flashed into Gavin’s head. It was so strange that he
couldn’t shake her free of his mind. This morning, before departing
Ironcross Castle, he’d followed his impulse and gone back to his
room simply to look again at her portrait. It was there where
Edmund had returned it, upon the hearth .
    Gavin was certain now that none of his men
had taken the painting. He knew that the three warriors would have
taken more pleasure in gloating over their daring move than in
actually stealing the portrait out of his chamber. But the whole
thing still puzzled him. It was so strange to have someone go to
the trouble of stealing that painting and putting it back where it
had always been. The act served no purpose.
    Gavin shook his head and tried to tear his
eyes away from the fire.
    “She would come here, you know, and do
exactly as you have done.”
    Mater’s words pierced Gavin’s thoughts like a
bolt of the lightning. His eyes snapped up and stared into her gray
eyes. “Who?” he asked unsteadily.
    Mater’s eyes drifted toward the direction in
which he’d come. “All alone, she would come to us,