Page 2 of A Scoundrel’s Promise

Cora sighed. “How I wish that we had been here to see that.”

Mackenzie nodded. “Can you imagine? I also heard that both brothers mounted the claymores they used in battle over the hearth in the abbey’s great hall.”

Cora’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Mackenzie, we dare not enter the great hall.”

Mackenzie sniffed. “I’m not a ninny. That we could never keep secret. We’ll only ride past the abbey.” Though she would consider returning by herself and sneaking into the hall. The abbey had been abandoned the last ten years. She and Cora had explored it many times.

“We will not stop or even dally.” Cora’s lips thinned into a firm line. “Promise?

Cora had her there. While she might stretch the truth a tad bit now and again, she never broke a promise. “I give you my word,” Mackenzie swore solemnly.

Relief washed over Cora’s face, then excitement sparkled in her dark eyes. “Janet would never have the courage to sneak away for a peek at handsome gentlemen.”

Mackenzie didn’t like the mention of Lady Janet. “You cannot tell her what we’re doing,” Mackenzie urged. “She’d never have the courage to defy her parents. She’d seize this opportunity to expose us.”

Her friend lifted her chin. “I can keep a secret.”

Cora kept secrets like Mackenzie told the truth: most of the time.

They rode across the field and up a small hill. At the top, the abbey came into view in the shallow valley below.

“Instead of going north the extra mile to stay on Papa’s estate, we’ll cut across Mister Akins’ land,” Mackenzie suggested.

They cantered down the hill and, minutes later, reached the road.

“Have you a new dress for Lady Mairi’s upcoming party?” Mackenzie asked as they slowed the horses to a walk.

Cora frowned. “I do. But why are you asking about my party dress?”

Mackenzie grinned. “Because when we pass the abbey, we must appear nonchalant, as if we are not at all interested in the goings-on there.”

Cora shook her head. “Sometimes you frighten me.”

Mackenzie laughed. “Sometimes I frighten myself.”

The chapel situated in the northeast corner of the abbey came into full view.

“I wonder what they use the chapel for,” Mackenzie said.

“What use could that have but for prayer and worship?” Cora said.

“I wonder if men of war pray,” Mackenzie said.

“They must. If I had to fight for my life, I would be praying every second.”

Mackenzie nodded. “As would I. But I suspect these men are far braver than you and I. Papa once said that for many soldiers, the sword is their god.”

“That cannot be. No good Christian would commit such blasphemy.”

Two men emerge from behind the rectory, leading horses. They wore rough woolen breeches. Mackenzie’s heart fell. Only footmen. Perhaps she and Cora wouldn’t be lucky enough to see any of the owners of Blackstone Abbey. They drew closer and a rider emerged from the stables. Mackenzie’s pulse skipped a beat. The tall, lean man in the saddle wore a belted plaid.

“Oh my,” Cora breathed.

Mackenzie quite agreed with her friend’s awe.

Which of The Beasts of Blackstone Abbey was this man? Might he be Liam Fraser? His bearing was that of a man born to the saddle. Of course, all these men had fought in the war. All would be excellent riders.

“Which one do you think he is?” Cora asked.