by Quinn, Paula
He walked to the bed and smiled at Silene when he saw that she was praying at the bedside. “Has she become better? Worse?”
“The same,” the lass’ mother told him.
He looked at the child, a smaller version of her golden-haired mother. The last time he’d seen her—a sennight ago. She’d hurried to him and pressed her cheek to his when he lifted her in his arms. “I will miss ye, Galeren,” she had told him.
He bent to her and whispered above her face. “I am home, lass.”
His gaze drifted to Silene kneeling on the other side of the bed.
“Captain?”
He looked down on the bed. Lizzie was awake. His smiled deepened. “Greetin’s, lass. What d’ye mean by fallin’ ill when I wasna here to protect ye?”
She smiled back. “Ye are here now.”
They spoke a little longer and when she fell back to sleep, he prayed with Silene.
Chapter Nine
“She seems better,” Matilda said about her daughter an hour later.
Silene couldn’t help but smile at the captain where he was standing by the window in Matilda’s room.
“She seems quite fond of you, Captain,” she pointed out.
“Everyone is fond of the captain,” Matilda told her.
Aye, it certainly seemed that way, Silene thought, remembering how the people had gathered around him, eager to share a word or a smile with him. He was not just the captain of the steward’s guard, he was their friend, perhaps even the one they considered their leader.
So, it wasn’t just her who thought he was an exceptional man. She felt better knowing it. She’d fallen under his spell just as the rest of them had.
“Captain, I asked Sister Silene how long she was stayin’. She doesna know. Do ye?”
His verdant gaze fell on her. “Ye werena told?”
“Nay,” Silene answered.
He bit down hard enough to make the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Ye are to stay fer a fortnight. I thought ye knew.”
Her eyes widened a little. She thought she was staying for a few days. Whether or not she believed she’d ever go back, a fortnight was a long time. She was surprised Mother Mary Joseph hadn’t told her.
She blinked her gaze to Matilda. “You may put me to work where you need me. I will not be a burden to you for a fortnight.”
“Dinna think of it,” her uncle’s wife told her. “Ye are kin, also our guest.”
A fortnight. Silene’s eyes drifted to him again. She was going to live here for fourteen days, seeing him. She felt like weeping. How could she resist him?
“I…I think I should freshen up.” She needed to be away from him. To pray. To think.
“Of course, Silene.” Matilda took her hand when she came near. “Thank ye fer comin’ here first. Louise brought yer things to yer room.” She turned to look around, likely for Louise, but she hadn’t told the servant to return. “Oh, dear. Ye dinna know where ’tis, do ye?”
“I could escort her,” the captain offered.
No.
“Nay, Captain,” Matilda refused. “While ye traveled, she had no escort, which I intend to speak to Mother Mary Joseph aboot. Now, she is in my home and will have an escort.”
“My lady, ye insult me.” He truly sounded offended, Silene thought. “I am her escort. I wouldna—”
“Her reputation—”
“Will remain intact. Anyone who suspects otherwise can speak directly to me. Now,” he turned to Silene as he leashed his control. “Would ye please come with me?”
“Truly, Captain. I can find the room myself. I would not be a burden. Please remain here.” Her reasoning for not wanting to be alone with him was different from Matilda’s. Silene was terrified. Why? She’d been alone with him before. What had changed—or was changing?
Her feelings toward him. They were growing stronger, side by side with her guilt. She had to pray. Ten Hail Marys was obviously not enough.
“My dear Silene,” Matilda’s smile softened on her. “I was wrong to worry aboot yer reputation with the captain.” Her blue eyes deepened on him. “He has supreme control over his body and remains chaste. Is that not so, Captain?”
Silene looked at him. Was she bold enough to ask him why he and his men had made their vows? Not now. The less interest she showed in him, the better where Matilda was concerned.
“’Tis so, my lady,” he answered.
“Ye see?” Matilda laughed. “There is nothing to worry aboot with him.”
Silene’s gaze remained on his. Matilda was wrong—but Silene wasn’t worried.
She crooked her arm in the elbow he offered. Could he feel her trembling?
“Which is her room, my lady?”
“Down the right hall. Third door on the left,” she told them.
“Nay,” Silene paused, digging in her heels when he would lead her. “I can find the room on my own.”
“What is it?” Matilda asked, narrowing her eyes on Silene. “Why are ye so determined to be out of the captain’s care?”
“What?” Silene blinked at her and uncurled her arm from his. “Nay. I have imposed too much.”
“Do ye love him, Silene?”
Silene almost reached for the bedpost to hold on to. Something. Anything. Why had she let him go? She was slipping off the precipice. What kind of question was this?
“My lady!” the captain objected, moving closer. He held up his palm to Matilda. “That is enough!”
Silene knew she had to say something. Denying it was pointless. Matilda would see right through her. She would not lie. She knew that no matter what she said, Matilda would not understand.
“My lady, I love everyone the Lord puts in my path. I love Mac and Morgann. I love them all. They are good, compassionate men who treated me with dignity and honor, especially this man.” She looked up at him then quickly looked away, lest the lady see more.
“And even if she did love me,” the captain told Matilda, silencing her with his angry stare, “’tis not wise to blurt it oot—fer someone comin’ in or listenin’ to hear. It could cause her harm.”
“Aye. Ye are correct.” The steward’s wife nodded and gave Silene a happier look. “Fergive my rash tongue. I didna mean—”
“Of course.” Silene smiled at her.
“I know where the room is,” the captain told them and motioned to Silene to follow him.
She went.
“Ye shouldna fight so passionately to stay away from me,” he admonished when they were alone. “John suspects it and, now, so does his wife.”
Her eyes opened wider. What kind of trouble had she gotten him in to? “Why do you believe that John suspects anything?”
“Because he asked me a dozen questions aboot what went on between us?”
“Between us?” Her heart slammed in her chest. Their kiss! Had the captain told him that they shared a passionate kiss? She wanted to ask him, but she couldn’t bring herself to mention it. Besides that, she didn’t believe he would tell.
“Aye. Between us,” he told her. “I canna deny that there is somethin’. Can ye?”
He didn’t give her time to answer but continued speaking. She was glad he was doing the talking. She wasn’t sure how much she would admit to.
“We dinna realize that we are starin’ at each other or sharin’ intimate smiles until ’tis brought to our attention. We panic over things involvin’ the other, and we dinna know it until ’tis too late.”
She nodded, pale-faced and guilty. “What do we do now?”
She looked away and closed her eyes. She hated to admit that there was something between them.
“Be aware of how we react to each other.”
“It frightens me, Captain,” she said in a hushed, quavering voice, looking at him again. “’Tis like an uncontrolled wind.”
His wide, emerald eyes grew wider. “Fergive me.”
“For what?”
He didn’t tell her. He picked up his steps and continued down the hall without anoth
er word.
When they reached the third door on the left, he pushed it open. A woman inside screamed and then greeted the captain when she saw it was him. He apologized profusely and then did the same after opening two more doors that were someone else’s room.
He was mortified and frustrated, but he never cursed Matilda for giving him the incorrect directions. They ended up laughing together when he finally opened the correct door—after knocking at least ten times.
“I will see ye la—” He stopped, likely realizing as was she, that they would probably not see each other much. “Farewell, Silene.” He bowed before her and looked into her eyes when he straightened. “If ye need me, lass, I will come.”
“I need you, Captain.” She said it but she shook her head at the same time. She knew she should have remained silent. “Nay. I am wrong.” She backed up and shut the door.
Alone, she leaned her back against the door between them.
“Forgive me,” she prayed. “Oh, forgive me.”
Outside her door, Galeren heard her cry and muttered a soft, miserable oath.
When he stepped into the main hall, he was stopped by two soldiers from the garrison.
“Greetin’s, Captain. ’Tis good to have ye back,” said one of the men. Alistair Desmond was his name. He hailed from Perth and arrived at the garrison in Dundonald six months ago. “How was yer journey?”
Galeren smiled at them. “Uneventful.”
“Uneventful,” the other man, Jack MacKinny, repeated with a doubtful arch of his dark brow. He was dressed like Desmond in boots and a plaid with a léine underneath. At his waist, he wore a leather belt that was heavy with various weapons. “Save that ye and the lads killed a large group of men after they attacked the nun.”
“Novice,” Galeren corrected.
Alistair tossed back his bald head and laughed. “That isna uneventful, Captain.”
“To him ’tis.” Will laughed, joining them. With him was Father Alphonsus.
Upon seeing the priest, Alistair and Jack disappeared.
“Truly?” Father Alphonsus asked, stepping closer. “It is uneventful for you to kill ten men?”
“Those ten men. Aye, Father,” Galeren told him and moved away. He stopped after a few steps. “Have ye sent Father Nathaniel to Sister Silene?”
“I have not seen him,” Father Alphonsus sneered.
Galeren gave him a black stare. He’d never be forgiven for striking a man of God. But the priest didn’t know that Galeren cared about such a thing. “May I suggest ye find him?” he uttered as more of a command than a question.
Will laughed and pushed Galeren away. “I’m sure the good Father Alphonsus will find him.”
“What are ye doin’ with him?” Galeren demanded quietly as they left the hall.
“Findin’ oot when our dear novice is to face the church and how many of us can be there to pledge ourselves to her safety.”
Since when had she become their novice? And why did Will emphasize the word?
“And?” he couldn’t help but ask. In truth, he liked that his men wanted to continue to protect her.
“In eight days and she can have no guard with her.”
Galeren stopped to turn to him. “She will have a guard. Me.”
His friend gave him an amazed look. “Ye intend to defy the church?”
Galeren squared his shoulders. “If I must.”
Will smiled and patted him on the back before he broke away to head to another room. “Be careful, Cap.”
Galeren nodded and continue on. He couldn’t say it was good to be back. He’d told Alistair the trip was uneventful but, in truth, it had changed everything in his life.
He had to break things off with Cecilia. He didn’t love her. He never would. He had to come to the truth that he might be falling in love with one of God’s betrothed.
Ye have many, Lord, he beseeched in his mind. I only want one.
He kept walking, turning the corner toward the exit. He hurried and nearly walked into the arms of a lass crossing his path.
“Cecilia!”
“Galeren!” she answered, sounding just as stunned to see him almost running into her arms.
No! Not her. Not now.
“I heard you had returned. Why did you not come directly to me?” She pouted her pink lips and let her gaze go hot. She stomped her slippered foot just like a spoiled child. If she had one of her temper tantrums now, he didn’t know what he might say to her. He wanted to go outside. Take a walk. Be alone.
“I didna know ye were here.” He moved out of her embrace. “What are ye doin’ here, Cecilia?”
She lifted her hand to her flowing, honey-hued hair and patted it. “Father had dealings with the steward and brought me along to Dundonald. He thought I might want to see you. He was correct. Imagine my supreme disappointment to learn you had not yet returned.”
“Aye, we ran into some difficulties. It couldna be helped.”
She pouted again.
“We will speak of it later. And of other things.”
“But I am leaving shortly—”
He didn’t wait for the rest, but continued walking, finally reaching for the door. He saw his plaid hanging on a peg near the entrance.
“Captain!”
He drew in a breath and turned again. This time, he saw Alex, the steward’s son, and Margaret, the lad’s seven-year-old sister, offering him their brightest smiles.
“What are ye doin’?” Alex asked.
“Are ye goin’ oot?” asked his sister.
“Aye. I am goin’ oot.”
“We want to go oot, too!” one of them cried.
Galeren looked around. Where were their nurses or teachers? Anyone watching over them.
“Who escorts ye through the halls?” He knew the rules, for he had made them. John and Matilda’s children must not be about alone. The steward had too many enemies.
“No one escorts us,” Alex told him timidly. “Our teacher said he felt ill. He told us to find our nurse, Gwendolyn. But we couldna find her.”
Galeren ground his jaw. So busy were they?
He felt something on his leg. He looked down and saw Margaret hugging his calf. “We want to go with ye!”
“Verra well. I have some things to think on. Will ye be silent if I agree to take ye with me?”
“Aye! Aye!” they promised.
“Fetch yer cloaks. Hurry. I willna wait long.”
Galeren waited while they hurried to their room, which was the first door at the top of the stairs. He watched them from where he stood. He tapped his foot, greeting others as they passed.
“Nice to have ye back, Captain.”
“Good to see ye unscathed from yer journey, Captain MacPherson!”
The children returned and Galeren finally stepped out of Dundonald and into the cool, crisp air. The children ran ahead, laughing and enjoying their freedom. Galeren kept his eyes on them but, soon, while he walked, his thoughts drifted to Silene and what the next fortnight was going to be like. He wished Father Timothy was here. He would tell Galeren what to do.
He watched the children returning to him. Their cheeks were red from running. Their happiness made him forget what was happening to his heart.
“Captain, may we go to the orchard?” Margaret reached him and asked.
He looked toward the castle’s orchard behind them and nodded. “We must hurry, though. It occurs to me that we didna tell anyone that I was takin’ ye.”
The children looked at each other and then at him. He saw the worry in their eyes, and it pricked his heart. They were too young for such fears.
He smiled. A wee bit of worry never hurt anyone. In fact, it might make them more vigilant in their duties.
“Come.” He turned around and marched to the orchard. He let them pick some apples and was proud of them when they picked extra for their sibling. Margaret even gave him hers.
“Ye are both learnin’ yer lessons well,” he told them while they sat beneath a tree
. “I’m proud of ye.”
“Let us also pick some flowers fer Lizzie,” Alex suggested.
“Good thinkin’, my lord,” Galeren praised him. “’Twill brighten up the room.”
It amazed him how the children could be more thoughtful than adults. He scowled thinking how John the Steward had not been to see his daughter the entire time Galeren had been there.
He didn’t admonish them for not picking apples for their father. The steward liked making children. After that, he left the rearing to his wife and nurses.
“I asked Mother if I could have a kitten,” Margaret confided.
From where he rested against the tree, Galeren opened one eye and looked at her. “Is this the hundredth time ye have asked her?”
“Aye.” Margaret stared at him with huge dark eyes. “One of these times she will agree.”
He smiled. Clever lass.
“Will ye ask her, Captain? Mother will agree if ye ask her.”
Galeren shook his head. “She has said no alr—”
“But Annabelle Henry’s kittens are almost all gone. I would like one. Please, Captain.” Her eyes grew even wider. “Please help me.”
Galeren stared at her for a moment or two. Had she learned how to manipulate at such a young age? No. She was sincere. She truly wanted a kitten. She’d been asking for a month and a half now. Galeren had not involved himself and Margaret had never asked for his help until now.
“I will have a word with her,” he gave in. He tried to scowl but his heart felt too soft. When she bolted from her spot and flung her arms around his neck, he smiled.
“Oh! Thank ye, Captain! Thank ye!” she cried, pressing her cheek to his.
“Now, my lady—”
“Ye see, Alex? I told ye he would help us.”
Galeren quirked his brow at the lad. “Ye doubted me?”
“No, I just know ye have enough to do already. Ye dinna have to add helpin’ a lass get a kitten to yer list.”
Galeren’s expression turned serious. “How many summers are ye now, my lord?””
“Nine, Sir,”
“Nine,” Galeren repeated, studying his wee friend and his haunting different colored eyes.