He smiled back at her, relieved to get their relationship back to more familiar ground after the shaky start to the morning. ‘Then I hope we find him soon for the sake of that gown. It is far too pretty to become rags.’
‘It deserved a better owner.’
‘It suits your colouring.’
She fiddled with the tie on her cloak, wrapping it round and round her little finger. ‘You must have something wrong with your eyes. Red makes my nose glow.’
‘I see perfectly well, my lady. More lies from your stepmother?’
A low sound made the laugh die on his lips. He listened for several heartbeats, waiting for it to repeat, but the sound of silence crushed the soul.
‘Is there a problem?’
Sandulf attempted to ignore the prickling in the back of his neck, the one he always got before a battle. ‘I would have thought we’d have caught up with Urist by now.’
‘You’ve heard something.’
‘Are we lost?’
A tiny frown appeared between her arched brows and her pointed chin took on a stubborn cast. ‘I know how to get there. That wasn’t why I needed a guide precisely, it was more for protection. Urist can be vexing, but I find it difficult to believe that he truly left me stranded. There will be a logical explanation as to why it has taken longer than I thought it would.’
‘You wanted safety because the road can be hazardous.’ He nodded. ‘You were being cautious. A lone woman travelling and all that. But you changed direction several times yesterday when you were tired.’
She glanced behind them again. Her face relaxed when she realised that they remained alone on the track except for Vanora, who was sniffing a butterfly. ‘I would not be foolish enough to start off without knowing how to arrive at my destination.’
She was running away, he was sure of it now. It was why she’d set out dressed in that fashion. Sandulf gritted his teeth. The good thing was that she did not fear what lay before them—she feared what lay behind. Behind he could handle. In front? He thought about the assassin who was hiding in the monastery at Nrurim. Lady Ceanna was not a target, despite his dream in the grey light of dawn.
‘Why are you going to Nrurim?’ he asked, trying another way. ‘The truth this time.’
She started marching down the road, her gown swinging to reveal the slenderness of her ankles. ‘I am going to become a nun, a holy maid. I told you last night before we went to sleep. A great desire—a vision, if I may be so bold as to call it that—came over me. I have to go and consult my aunt. Urist understood.’
He frowned. Lady Ceanna remained wary. She might be many things, but he doubted she had been precipitously overcome with religious fervour. ‘Suddenly? Without delay?’
She looked up at him through a forest of long lashes. ‘Isn’t that the best way, when you know a course of action is the correct one?’
Sandulf kept his face carefully blank. Lady Ceanna bore no resemblance to any nun he’d ever encountered. Not that there had been many, but the ones he’d seen appeared to be overcome with a great desire to serve God and they wore sober clothing, not dark crimson gowns which were designed to show off every curve. Neither would they feel soft in his arms as she had done last night.
He frowned. Noticing Ceanna’s curves showed that he had been without a woman for a long time, since before he left Constantinople. However, while he was happy to notice the curve of her mouth, the last thing he would be doing was sampling it. He would respect her right to her claimed vocation. Women went willingly into his arms or not at all.
He refused to think about earlier and how he’d barely restrained himself from kissing her lips.
‘Because of this desire to be a holy maid, you had to leave your home immediately? Leave your family? Dressed like that? A dress suited more for a wedding or a betrothal?’ he asked, trying to piece together the truth of what she refused to tell him.
She abruptly stopped. Her brows drew together, making her resemble a kitten which had encountered water for the first time. ‘What do you mean? Are you questioning my vocation? Don’t I have the right to travel without people questioning me?’
She stalked off with her backside swaying. Sandulf forced his gaze to lift higher and attempted to ignore the hardening in his groin.
‘I wondered if you were running away from someone, rather than running towards something,’ he called after her.
She glanced back. A spark of mischief shone in her eyes. ‘We’d agreed our business was our own. The subject of my vocation is a private matter for me, as I had understood such things should be. I beg you will refrain from speaking about it again.’
‘It makes a change from speaking about the weather or where Urist could be. I’ve never encountered a holy maid to speak with in any great depth.’ He shrugged and concentrated on the track. Her reaction confirmed what he’d already guessed. While she might hope their time together would be short, he hoped it was even shorter. The last thing he needed in his life was dealing with some wilful woman who refused to do the bidding of her family.
She coughed. ‘Very well. Yes, my wish to become a holy maid was not something I foresaw happening the last time I visited my aunt. The vision came upon me suddenly. But she needs to believe in it as well as I.’
‘Your aunt? What does she have to do with anything?’ He willed her to confide. Ceanna was keeping secrets and those secrets could get them both killed, especially if half the countryside was even now in pursuit of her.
She ducked her head so that all he could see was the top of her couvre-chef. ‘My aunt is the
