Forbidden Heart

by Quinn, Paula

  “Who is there?” the priest demanded again.

  “Sis…Sister Silene Sparrow, niece to John the Steward, here at his command.”

  His frown made the creases in his face even more defined. “Remove your hood! Where is your habit?”

  “’Tis in my bag. ’Tis covered in bloodstains.”

  “Put it on, child!” the priest barked. “You are in the Lord’s house!”

  She leaned down and opened her bag. She felt a hand to her shoulder. Her gaze flicked involuntarily to the priest.

  “She will not put it on,” the captain growled behind her.

  “Captain, you will not—” the priest stammered.

  “Who are you?” Silene asked more boldly than usual. She did it for the captain. She didn’t want him getting into trouble over her.

  “I’m Father Alphonsus,” the priest answered. He seemed to be relieved to stop speaking to the captain.

  “Have you served my uncle’s family long, Father?”

  “Three and twenty years,” he told her, ending his declaration with a proud stare at the captain.

  Silene raised her brows and asked in a more curious voice, “Do all your loyalties lie with him?”

  “Aye,” he replied curtly and looking insulted. “Of course!”

  She sighed inwardly. She didn’t want confession with him.

  “What are you doing here in the chapel when you should be standing before the steward? You were due yesterday,” he said. His voice was calmer but stinging, nonetheless.

  “We ran into…I was…”

  “Father,” the captain’s voice came down like a hammer. “Watch yer tongue when ye speak to her,” he warned, stepping around her.

  “We were delayed by strict rules aboot when to speak to God and attacks by men who were drawn to her because of her veil. Her life was in danger durin’ the entire journey because she was summoned here by yer brothers. I have remained silent on this. But now, I’m tellin’ ye not to question her again or I will see that ye are sent away. D’ye understand?”

  Silene frowned. This was not good. Threatening a priest’s well-being would surely get them all killed.

  “Aye,” the priest answered.

  What was this? Father Alphonsus gave in so easily. What kind of power did the captain have here?

  “Good,” he continued, unfazed by the priest’s humiliation. He turned to her and without a word, set his palm on the small of her back and led her out.

  “One more thing, Father.” He stopped and turned to the priest. “Find Father Nathaniel and send him to the castle at once.”

  “He is away until tonight,” Father Alphonsus let him know before he disappeared into a back room.

  Alone, Silene looked into the captain’s eyes. She saw a man of power and cool detachment. She didn’t know what to say. Admonish him for defending her to a mean-spirited man? No. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t have said anything. She was glad the captain had. But threatening him…could the captain carry out his promises? Would the steward let him? How much power did he have that made him so confident? She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  The moment they stepped out of the chapel, John the Steward, with two of his children at his sides, hurried toward them.

  Silene’s uncle didn’t question their tardiness. He all but ignored her and hooked his arm around the captain’s shoulders and smiled. “Good to have ye back, Galeren.” He turned to his children and called out happily, “Captain MacPherson has returned!”

  His family greeted the captain and his men with much affection, boldly embracing the captain, and asking him dozens of questions.

  In the midst of the merriment, the high steward looked at her and offered her a friendly smile. “A new soldier, Captain?” He looked around and frowned. “Where is my niece the novice?”

  “Here, my lord.” The captain angled his head to her and gave her a tender smile. “Sister Silene Sparrow, yer niece.”

  The steward stared at her. He appeared unconvinced. “Where is yer habit?”

  “’Twas torn from me in an attack.” She stared back at him.

  He was a portly man with thick, dark hair worn beneath a meticulously wound chaperon on his head.

  “We were unable to find such items in the villages. But, as your clever captain has pointed out to me, there is more desire for a woman in a habit than for what they believe to be a man.”

  Her uncle smiled, but not at her. “My apologies fer yer strenuous journey, Captain.”

  He finally turned his attention back to her. “Ye see, I sent my best man to escort ye. Do ye not agree?”

  “Thank you, my lord. Aye, I do. Your men were exemplary in every task they undertook to protect me from the jackals that hide in the darkness. They were brave, curious, and compassionate.”

  Her uncle’s smile grew—on her this time. “Captain MacPherson and his men never disappoint. And ye…” He spread his sable-colored eyes over her. “Ye look well, Niece. I should have recognized that fiery hair. Fergive me fer makin’ ye wait.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  “Come! Come inside all of ye. My Matilda awaits!”

  As they headed toward the inner gate, the captain turned and let his lips curl at the corners. Everything was going to be all right.

  She followed them through the gate and looked up at the two high towers on either side. They headed for a large, stone stairway along the eastern wall. Its door, when they reached it, was made of heavy wood and wrought iron hinges. Her cousin opened it.

  Silene would have felt uncomfortable, even afraid entering a crowded great hall on her own. But she wasn’t alone. The captain and his men surrounded her.

  The captain walked inside after John and his children as if he were the master of the castle, home from a journey.

  When they saw him and the men behind him, those in the great hall lifted their drinks and leaped to their feet, quick in greeting.

  “Captain, ’tis good to have ye home,” most declared while others shoved drinks into their hands.

  The captain took a cup that was offered. Mac and the others followed suit, including Silene.

  “Who is the red-haired lad?” a man called out.

  The captain took a swig of his drink, which turned out to be ale when Silene took a sip. The captain swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, fully refreshed. Silene cringed, shivered and shook her head at the rest.

  She felt his gaze on her. When she looked and saw that she was correct, her heart grew warm and she blushed with the heat of it.

  She nodded, reassuring him that she was well.

  He smiled as if he couldn’t help himself, for he coughed a little and tore his gaze away.

  But those watching him saw it and grew quiet.

  “She is Sister Silene,” he called out a moment later.

  “Aye, my niece,” the steward let them know. But if he was worried about his men making advances, she could have told him that every eye in this place did not doubt that she was highly valued by the captain.

  Once again, he provided her safety.

  “Welcome, Sister,” most called out, studying her more closely for curves in her tunic and hose.

  “My veil and wimple are stained in blood or I would be wearing them,” she told them, tired of explaining.

  The men held up their cups as soon as they heard about her clothing being bloodstained.

  She smiled at them and thought it might not be so terrible here.

  “My lord,” the captain called out. “Where can she rest?”

  Her uncle gave her a remorseful look. “Fergive me,” he laughed at himself. “I am a great oaf withoot my wife at my left and my captain at my right.”

  His right.

  “Where is yer wife, Lord?” the captain asked.

  “Matilda is upstairs with our three-year-old girl, Lizzie.”

  “Oh?” Silene asked, her ears perked. “Is the babe unwell?”

  A moment passed before the steward nodded. Why had
he not answered sooner? His eyes appeared a bit glazed over by…indifference. His lips didn’t curl downward, saddened to have to tell of his sick child, they were set straight and unyielding.

  “May I be shown to them?” she asked.

  “Why?” her uncle asked.

  “To offer prayer.”

  “You can pray anywhere,” he insisted.

  Up until this moment, the captain had remained quiet. Now, he stepped up in front of the steward. “I can vouch fer her. She will do them no harm.”

  The steward’s flinty gaze bored into him. “Ye vouch fer her with my wife and child?”

  “I do.” The captain wasted no more time but turned to a female servant. “Louise, take her to her mistress’ chambers.”

  When he was done, his gaze skidded to Silene’s then back to the steward. “She is as innocent as a fawn in the brush,” she heard him tell the steward. “I also made an agreement with Mother Mary Joseph that I would bring her back safely. I willna shrink from my duty.”

  Their voices grew fainter and she and Louise left the great hall. They reached another stone stairway and ascended to the second landing, the third if there were cellars. Silene didn’t know much about the castle.

  “Ye have the captain’s pledge,” the serving girl remarked as they walked. “And his eye.”

  “We are friends,” Silene was quick to tell her.

  “He is verra handsome. Do ye not agree?”

  “I’m not blind,” Silene muttered. Was everyone in Dundonald jealous of the captain?

  The serving girl smiled and continued leading her away.

  When they reached a large, wooden door, Louise gave it a good knock. A woman called out from within.

  “Come.”

  Louise held open the door and made a path for Silene to enter.

  With her pale blonde tresses plaited and pinned up off her long neck and eyes as blue as a clear summer sky, Matilda was beautiful.

  “Greetings, my lady,” Silene said boldly, stepping into the room.

  Matilda stood from her place at the bedside. “Who are ye?”

  Before Silene had a chance to answer, Matilda gasped, recognizing her. “Silene? Silene, is it ye? Oh! ’Tis! Look at ye with all yer beautiful fiery tresses chopped off!”

  Silene smiled and took a step toward her for an embrace. She was glad Matilda remembered her. She was only a few years older than Silene, and though Silene had only been here once, four years ago, and for only four days, Matilda had been kind to her, and they became friends.

  “We expected ye yesterday,” Matilda said, coming out of their embrace.

  Silene nodded. “We were attacked. We also paid a visit to the captain’s ailing grandsire in Hethersgill, and my prayers—”

  “Yer group was attacked?” Matilda gasped. “Was anyone hurt?”

  Silene told her what happened. Her uncle’s wife seemed especially relieved to hear that the captain was unharmed.

  “Ye traveled all the way to the central Marches, and then what? Ye slept in their home with Captain MacPherson?”

  “And the other men, aye,” Silene told her, narrowing her eyes on Matilda. Was she jealous? Silene would never tell her that he’d slept against her door.

  “Good. Ye should always have witnesses when ye are alone with him,” Matilda continued, looking around conspiratorially. “The captain is known to be extremely comely, and it would be difficult to convince the church that ye could resist such a man. That nothin’ happened between ye.”

  Was Matilda trying to frighten her, Silene wondered, staring at her? She didn’t look away and prove her guilt. “If the church would think so little of me that I would give up my body to a man because he is handsome, then why would my opinion of my uncle hold such weight?”

  Matilda’s jaw stiffened for only an instant and then her defenses faded into a smile. “I only wish to keep all suspicion off ye. Ye know how men are.”

  “Nay, I do not,” Silene said with a smile of her own.

  “They are the same, whether religious or not. They think we are all harlots. Deep down, they all believe it.”

  Silene hoped that wasn’t true. She was sure the captain didn’t think she was a harlot. Either way, she didn’t want to fight with her aunt. “Tell me about the babe.” She turned around and looked down at the child lying in her mother’s bed.

  “Aye, my Lizzie. She suffers a fever.”

  Silene stepped back involuntarily. “Are you certain ’tis not the Black Death?”

  “I am certain.”

  Silene wasn’t worried about catching something, even the Black Death. In the past, she had gone to a few villages with the other novices and nuns to nurse the sick. She’d been around terrible disease and had never become sick. If she did now, so be it.

  She hurried around Matilda and leaned over the bed to examine little girl. Her fever was low, her breathing a bit labored.

  According to her mother, physicians had done all they could. The child was not in dire distress. But they could not defeat the fever that plagued her.

  Silene knelt beside the bed and looked up at Lizzie’s mother. “May I pray for her?”

  “Of course,” Matilda whispered with a softer, kinder smile.

  “What is it?” Galeren asked after the steward told him all about the sickness tormenting his daughter.

  “’Tis not the plague,” John assured.

  “How d’ye know?”

  “No one has died. Still, the illness is difficult to go through. No one wants to get it.”

  “Understandable,” Galeren muttered and threw himself into the nearest chair in John’s private solar.

  “The novice will likely fall ill,” the steward proclaimed and fixed them a drink.

  Galeren felt the alarming need to go get her, take her away from the sick child. But he knew she wouldn’t leave.

  It was his fault. He overrode John’s order that she not go near his wife and child. “Ye didna tell me that the babe was a danger to her.”

  John handed Galeren his drink and sipped some wine from his own cup. “She willna die. And I did tell her not to go.”

  Galeren relented and nodded. God would care for her.

  John took a seat in a dark wood chair with a hand-sewn cushion and cast Galeren a hard look. “Tell me, Galeren. It seems that ye and my niece grew close on yer short journey here. Is she fond of ye?”

  “Most likely,” Galeren told him honestly. “I saved her from almost bein’ defiled.”

  The steward’s eyes went dark. “Did ye kill him?”

  “I did,” Galeren told him with satisfaction, causing him to smile.

  “Good,” John said. “What else?”

  “What are ye askin’ me?” Galeren sat up and put down his drink. He loved Scotland. He’d grown to care for John and his family, but that fondness was growing thin from years of watching John involve himself in shady dealings that always ended up with someone innocent dying. Galeren stayed for the king’s sake…and for the children.

  He was loyal, putting personal feelings aside. But they hadn’t gone away. He cared for John’s family. He loved that the castle and village were under his control alongside the steward. Though Galeren was given authority, overall the steward had the final say in everything.

  John didn’t care if Silene grew ill.

  “I’m asking ye what else happened between ye while ye and my niece were travelin’.”

  Was he jesting? Galeren wondered. He stared at the steward and let the storm go free just a little. “I will tell ye what we did, John. We stopped five, sometimes six times a day so she could pray alone—with me watchin’ her. We all slept and then did it all over again. Other intervals included her bein’ abducted by a group of ten men. We killed them all and got her back. We visited my kin along the border and her prayers strengthened my grandsire on his sickbed,” Galeren finished. He gave John a dark look. “Anythin’ else ye wish to know?”

  The steward narrowed his gaze on his captain. “Dinna get
so offended, Galeren. I must be certain Silene is pure and that nothin’ gets in the way of her good standin’ with the church.”

  She was a pawn. A piece of a game John needed to win. Silene had been correct. Her uncle cared little for her.

  Galeren stood up from his chair. “If ye will excuse me, John. I have many things to see to upon my return.”

  He didn’t wait for the steward’s permission. Galeren did what he wanted at Dundonald. Everything but refuse to marry Cecilia Birchet. He was indebted to John for many things. The greatest thing being that John had saved his life on the battlefield three years ago when a man brought down his sword behind Galeren. Galeren would have lost his head and mayhap more if not for John’s blade getting in between them. John kept him on as David’s captain and his own after the king was arrested. John hadn’t minded when the people of Dundonald began their worshipful admiration of his captain. People followed Galeren and Galeren was loyal to John—therefore the people followed John.

  What if the people discovered that their darling captain had kissed the fresh-faced novice?

  He left the solar angry and ashamed. He stood outside the door for a moment and closed his eyes while he thought about what had just happened. Did John suspect something between him and Silene? Why wouldn’t he? Galeren believed what he felt for her was palpable, alive and charging the air. He believed Silene felt it, too. Could others see their attraction? Could his men? And they chose to say nothing?

  He opened his eyes and marched toward Lady Matilda’s quarters. Silene had been taken there. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see Lizzie and her mother. He didn’t care about any damned fever.

  When he reached the door, he knocked then entered when he was bid.

  He should have warned Silene that wee Margaret wasn’t the only one who was possessive and protective of him and her husband.

  His eyes searched and settled on Silene first, and then on Matilda.

  “Captain!” Matilda shouted then rose up to be swept up in his embrace. “’Tis good to look upon yer face again.

  He smiled, giving her a place among his dearest friends. “What is this I hear aboot a sickness?”

  She nodded and pointed to the three-year-old child lying in her large bed. “Lizzie was stricken first. Now, seven more have come down with it.”