Page 9 of His Runaway Bride
"Lileas!I heard a scream," Sister Margaret cried, her eyes quickly assessing the scene before her.
Without hesitation, Sister Margaret spun the staff in a deadly arc above her head, the polished wood whistling through the air.She brought it down in a strike that would have felled an ox, aimed directly at Ewan's already battered skull.
Ewan pushed Lileas out of harm's way then threw himself sideways, rolling across the floor as the quarterstaff whistled through the air where his head had been moments before.The wooden weapon struck the stone wall with enough force to send chips of mortar flying.
Sister Margaret followed through with a spinning movement that brought the staff around in another vicious sweep, this one aimed at his midsection.The nun moved with fluid precision, her brown robes swirling around her as she executed what was clearly a well-practiced series of attacks.
Ewan ducked and scrambled backward, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the stone floor."By the saints!"he roared, dodging yet another expertly executed strike that would have broken his ribs."What is the matter with the violent women in this abbey?!"
"Sister, wait!"Lileas scrambled to her feet, placing herself between the advancing warrior nun and the increasingly battered Ewan."Please, he's not hurt me.Quite the opposite, I fear.I've nearly killed him twice."
Sister Margaret paused and lowered her quarterstaff slightly, though she kept it at the ready.Her eyes never left Ewan's face."Ye've...what?"
"I hit him with a copper pipe when he startled me," Lileas explained."I think I may have addled his wits completely."
Ewan touched the tender spot on the back of his head and winced."My wits are perfectly sound, thank ye.It's my skull that's taken a beating."
Sister Margaret eyed Ewan suspiciously, noting his disheveled state.His dark blonde hair was mussed, his clothing rumpled, and there was definitely a glazed look in his eyes."And who exactly is this man?"
"Laird Ewan MacNeil," Lileas replied quietly, her cheeks flushing."My...my betrothed."
The effect of this revelation on Sister Margaret was immediate and dramatic.Her eyebrows shot up skyward and her mouth fell open in surprise.
"This is the MacNeil?"She looked him up and down with obvious astonishment."The laird ye called a brute and a dunce?This is he?"
Ewan's eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned to glare at Lileas, his jaw clenching with barely suppressed anger."A brute and a dunce, am I?"
Lileas's face went from pink to scarlet."I...well...ye see...I may have been...harsh in my judgement..."
"Harsh?"Sister Margaret snorted, apparently forgetting all about propriety."Lileas, ye've done nothing but complain about yer 'boorish, arrogant betrothed' for months!Just yesterday ye said he was probably too stupid to find his way here even with directions."
The nun's words hung in the air like an accusation, and Lileas felt her mortification reach new heights.
"Sister Margaret!"Lileas hissed, mortified beyond measure."I said no such thing!"
"Aye, ye did!"Sister Margaret replied with the righteousness of someone defending the truth."Remember?We were gathering water from the well when ye said ye'd rather wed a muddy pig than—"
"Haud yer wheesht!"Lileas interrupted in a panic."Sister, I was not talking about Laird MacNeil."
The lie was obvious to everyone present, and the silence that followed was deafening.Ewan's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as he stared at her.The air in the cottage seemed to crackle with tension, and Lileas found herself taking an involuntary step backward.
Then, very quietly, Ewan growled: a low, rumbling sound that seemed to emanate from deep in his chest and filled the cottage with menace.It was the sound of a predator who had just identified his prey, and it made the hair on the back of Lileas's neck stand on end.
Sister Margaret looked between them with growing alarm, finally seeming to realize she might have said too much.The warrior nun who had been prepared to brain a stranger with her weapon suddenly looked like nothing more than a frightened woman who had inadvertently walked into the middle of a lovers' quarrel."Perhaps...perhaps I should fetch the abbess?"she suggested weakly, backing toward the door with her quarterstaff held defensively before her.
"Aye," Ewan said, his voice still carrying that dangerous undertone."I think that would be wise."
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