Scoundrel Of Dunborough. Margaret Moore

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      “It’s nearly time for the evening meal,” Lizabet repeated more firmly, as if she thought Celeste hadn’t heard her. “You’re a guest of Dunborough.”

      With sudden understanding, Celeste replied, “Only for last night. I should have made it clear that I had no intention of imposing on Gerrard’s hospitality for any longer than that.”

      The maidservant frowned with concern, or possibly dismay.

      Celeste gave the young woman her most pleasant, placid smile. “Please convey my thanks to Gerrard for the invitation, as well as my assurances that I’m quite content to remain in my family’s house while I’m here.”

      “If you say so, Sister,” she hesitantly replied.

      “I do. Now you’d best be off before you catch a chill.”

      Lizabet did as she was told and, thinking Gerrard would likely be as glad of her absence as she was relieved not to see him again, Celeste went back to searching the larder for any sign of money hidden there.

      Albeit with a heavy sigh.

      * * *

      The sun was setting when Gerrard and his men returned from their patrol. There was no reason for them to go so far that frigid day except that Gerrard wasn’t eager to return to Dunborough.

      This time, though, it wasn’t his irate, cruel father he was reluctant to see. It was a nun.

      He handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy and went to the hall. A few of the hounds trotted toward him, eager for a pat and a good word. The trestle tables had been set up for the evening meal and the servants and soldiers not on duty or seeing to the horses and other tasks were already assembled.

      Gerrard removed his cloak and hung it on a peg beside the door, then scanned the hall.

      He scanned it again, thinking he must be mistaken.

      He was not.

      Celeste—Sister Augustine—was not there.

      Gerrard sighed with relief, then frowned. It would look bad to the soldiers and servants if she kept to her room a second night, and rumors would start circulating in the castle and probably the village, too, that she refused to have anything to do with him.