The lady of Airdfinnan found the new abbot of the monastery, whom her husband had endowed, on his knees in her garden.
Annelise halted, not particularly wanting to talk to the priest and definitely not wanting to share her first visit here. But Father Michael heard her and straightened, wiping the dirt from his hands onto his cassock and regarding the result ruefully.
Then he smiled at her. His smile was filled with the innocence of a cherub, though there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, and she had already heard the music of Ireland in his voice.
“It seems unfitting for me to welcome you to this place,” he said, “when you undoubtedly know it better than I.”
Annelise would not be swayed by his manner or his words. She straightened, unconsciously summoning the stance of the lady o
