Sister Blanche stared at him wide-eyed. She still wore Lady Helen's clothes, which explained the confusion.
"Ahem." The bishop cleared his throat, drawing her attention to the fact that Lord Rolfe was not alone. "We were just searching for Sister Blanche. You would not know where we might find her?"
Sister Blanche glanced quickly over the array of men before her. The bishop, Lord Rolfe, Lord Blake, the large one she had heard them call Little George, and at least a dozen other men stood there, all waiting expectantly. Having spent most of her life in a nunnery, Blanche was not used to being the center of attention of so many men. Swallowing nervously and feeling herself flush, she shook her head helplessly and took another nervous step backward.
Lord Rolfe's gaze narrowed slightly. "Where were you coming from?"
The alarm on her face was telling. Frowning, Rolfe glanced past her, his gaze going first to the gate, then to the stable entry not far away. Without a word, he moved past her toward the stables.
Biting her lip, Sister Blanche watched with some distress as he entered the stables.
Blake watched curiously too, then glanced toward the bishop as he spoke.
"It really is necessary we find Sister Blanche. After speaking with Lady Elizabeth and the others, it has been decided it might be best if Lady Elizabeth resigns her position. She is preparing to leave. I would like Sister Blanche to take her place until another abbess can be found. If another is needed. The rest of the nuns seem to think this Sister Blanche would fill the position quite satisfactorily."
Blanche forgot about Lord Rolfe, her mind filled with wonder. "Truly?" she asked breathlessly.
"Aye." The bishop frowned slightly and glanced briefly around the garden. "I should like to tell her of my decision and speak with her myself."
"Oh, of course, I--" Her words were cut off by a sudden shout from behind her. Recalling Lord Rolfe's foray into the stable, she whirled to peer at the man as he hurried toward them.
"I think they have fled," he announced grimly, coming to a halt beside Sister Blanche and facing the other men.
"Who?" the bishop asked with dismay.
"Lady Seonaid and Aeldra. There are at least two horses missing from the stables. Mayhap three."
Every gaze turned on Sister Blanche, and she felt the position as abbess slipping from her grasp. For a moment she struggled with herself, ambition and what was right battling within her. Then she straightened her shoulders, faced them grimly, and did as her conscience bade; she lied to save the women who had sought shelter and been betrayed. "They were my horses. I sold them to one of the lords from a neighboring estate. He just left after collecting them."
"You are a poor liar, Lady Helen," Lord Rolfe told her gently. "But the fact that you bothered to lie tells as much as the truth would have." His gaze turned to Blake and he smiled widely. "It appears we shall not be forced to try to talk your errant betrothed into leaving the abbey. She has flown the cavie again."
Far from looking pleased, Lord Blake grimaced at the news and muttered under his breath as he moved toward the gate. Little George and the rest of the men followed.
Sister Blanche was desperately searching her mind for some way to detain them when the bishop suddenly paused at the gate and turned back, his expression distressed. "Pray, find Sister Blanche and explain what I told you, Lady Helen. If she can see her way clear to running the abbey until an alternative arrangement is decided, it would be appreciated. I shall return as soon as I am able to assure all is well."
The man whirled and followed the others as his words sank slowly into her stunned mind. Only the click as the gate closed, reminded her that the men were leaving to seek the three women. Giving a little gasp of dismay, Blanche rushed forward, running to the gate and tugging it open. It was too late. The men had mounted their horses and were already riding off. The only thing that kept her from calling after them was the direction they had taken. The men were headed the wrong way. Sister Blanche's anxiety immediately gave way to a slow, relieved smile, and she slipped back inside, then pushed the gate closed.
"Thank you, God," she murmured as she slid the bar back into place. "You are truly most wondrous and merciful."
"Where are we heading?" Helen had been wanting to ask the question for the past several hours but had convinced herself Lady Seonaid and her cousin knew what they were doing. But at last she could not ignore her instincts any longer. All the signs seemed to indicate they were heading east, rather than south toward her home. Seonaid's answer made her heart sink in dismay.
"Fer the moment, east."
"East? But my home is in England. In the south."
"Aye, but that's also where Cameron'll expect ye to head," Seonaid reasoned calmly.
"But what is in the east?" she asked at last.
"Dundee."
Helen raised her brows. "And what is at Dundee?"
"Nothin'."
"Nothing?" She gaped at her. "Well, if there is nothing there, why--?"
Sighing, Seonaid drew her horse to a halt and turned to peer at the woman. "We're bein' pursued by two groups of men, are we no?"
"Well, as to that, who can say?" Helen murmured. "Cameron may or may not be on our trail, and as for Lord Blake, he may still be at the abbey."
" 'Tis doubtful Sherwell is still at the abbey. Even if Sister Blanche manages to keep our absence secret, a mere glance into the stables will tell him that we've fled."
When Helen's eyes widened in realization, Seonaid continued. "As fer Cameron, he may not be on our trail yet, but he's certainly seekin' ye. Now," she began with the attitude of someone teaching a lesson, "should Cameron trail ye to the abbey an' find ye've fled, he'll expect ye to flee south, straight fer England, and no doubt by the most direct route, like a fox seekin' its hole. Blake, if he kens yer quandary from Sister Blanche and that we intend to see ye home, will expect us to take the same route. If he doesna find out about ye, he'll most like expect us to head west, toward me father's castle, or possibly north, where I've some relatives who might be of assistance, and where there's another abbey, one without Lady Elizabeth. Neither of them have any reason to think we might go east, hence, we'll go east toward the coast, then follow the coast southward to England."
Lady Helen smiled suddenly. "That is very clever."
Seonaid smiled slightly at the praise, then turned to urge her horse into a trot again.
"Anything?"
Little George peered up from the area he was surveying to meet Blake's gaze and shake his head.
"Damn." Blake sank back on his saddle with a frown. "I do not understand it. We have ridden hard for several miles. We should have overtaken them, or at least have seen some sign of them by now."
"Mayhap they did not head this way," Rolfe suggested with a frown.
"Where else would they go?" Blake muttered.
"There is another abbey farther north," the bishop suggested when everyone else remained silent.
When Blake glanced at him hopefully, Rolfe frowned. "You do not think she left one abbey for another?"
" 'Tis more likely than that she returned home."
"She's gone east!"
They all whirled around at that shout to find the speaker was a mounted Scot on the trail behind them. Alarmed by not having heard his approach, the men-at-arms whirled furiously, drawing swords as they faced the man. A shout from Lord Rolfe made them still where they sat, but every man retained his grasp on his sword as Rolfe urged his own mount through theirs to face the sandy-haired Scot.
The man had not reacted to the threat of all those swords being drawn, but sat his horse with a slightly amused expression on his face, calmly meeting Rolfe's gaze as he stopped his mount several feet away.
"Who the deuce are you?"
"Gavin. The Dunbar sent me to follow ye to be sure Sherwell didna get himsel' killed 'ere catchin' up with Seonaid." He waited just long enough for the insult behind the words to sink in, then grinned widely and announced, "Yer goin' the wrong way. T
he lass an' the other two headed east on leavin' the abbey."
Rolfe sensed rather than heard Blake's shifting impatiently in his saddle and could sympathize. He himself was a bit annoyed at the insult but managed to keep the irritation from his expression as he asked, "The other two?"
The Scot nodded. "Aeldra an' a nun were with her. They headed east. I started to follow, but recalled 'twas Sherwell I was to be tendin' to an' turned back to the abbey to be sure ye followed. Ye must have left 'ere I returned, fer yer horses were gone when I arrived back. I asked at the abbey an' was told ye'd gone south. I headed in that direction, but it took little time to realize ye hadna gone that way, then I backtracked an' checked the road. I soon saw ye'd headed back for Dunbar. So I hurried after ye. Yer headin' the wrong way."
"Who told you we had headed south?" Blake asked, urging his mount up next to Rolfe's.
The Scot shrugged. "A lady. I doona ken who she was, but she werena dressed like a nun."
"Lady Helen. She most likely lied to protect the women," Rolfe murmured, then sighed and considered the man's words. "Why would Lady Seonaid head east?"
The Scot shrugged. "Most like she headed the way ye'd least think she'd go. She's a smart lass."
The men glanced at each other.