by Quinn, Paula
Silene bristled in her spot. They behaved as if he belonged to them, as if they knew everything about him. She was certain they did not. She knew even less apparently. He was betrothed. She wanted to ask when this marriage was to take place. But she didn’t dare stir up suspicions by asking questions.
“Louise, if the captain were available, which he is not, and if I were available, which I am not, he still would not care for me. He is merely protective of me, as he would be to a little sister.”
“He has no sisters,” Louise informed her.
“There, you see?” Silene insisted, trying to calm herself. He was going to marry someone else. What else hadn’t he told her? “He thinks of me as the sister he never had.”
Louise looked her over in her religious garb. “I guess I believe ye. But if he does care fer ye, ye would be mad to let him pass through yer fingers. He is a verra powerful man.”
Silene didn’t care about his power. She cared about the man he was with or without it. But she did wonder what his position here was.
“What does he do here?” she asked Louise.
“He is in charge of everythin’ and everyone, jointly with the steward. As I understand it,” the servant told her, “they have been friends fer a long time. The captain takes care of everythin’ while the steward takes care of verra little.”
“Foolish of my uncle to do such a thing,” Silene muttered, and slipped her prayer beads around her neck. “He will lose the trust of his people. He will lose them to the charismatic captain.”
Louise cut her glance to her and nodded. “Mayhap,” she said in a low voice. “Mayhap there truly is nothin’ between ye.”
Silene turned to her, her patience at an end, her voice laced with ice. “Louise, let me assure you for the last time. There is nothing between me and the captain. I am to be a nun. Do you understand that if you soil my good name, you hurt the steward and make him your enemy?” She paused and let her words sink in. “You are to cease your gossip, or I will be forced to tell Lady Matilda and the captain. Do you understand?”
Louise stared at her for a moment and then bowed her head. “Aye, Sister. Fergive me.”
With her head still hung, she led Silene to the supper table in the center of the great hall. It was where the steward and his family sat every night with the captain.
She sat. The captain was not there. His men sat at nearby tables, smiling at her when they caught her eye.
Silene’s heart thumped hard and fast. She reached for her cup and hoped it contained something mild.
It didn’t.
Her nostrils burned just smelling it.
“Sister,” her uncle began as he set his attention on her. “Tell me, how is it at St. Patrice’s? How is Mother Superior?”
“She is well.” Silene was glad he asked for her as Mother Superior spoke of him often.
While they waited for the food to be served, they spoke of the priory and of Silene’s dedication to her vows in the spring.
“Captain MacPherson is tardy,” the steward said to his wife and to her. “We willna wait fer him.”
Silene listened and then she prayed. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. Perhaps it was better if he didn’t.
But finally, he arrived.
She remembered the exact moment he entered the great hall. It was during her third bite of food. It was as if someone threw open the shutters and sunshine came bursting in. He stepped through the doorway and made his way to her table. She watched as he was stopped a dozen times by men seeking his advice, women wanting to talk, and servants wanting to serve him.
She wanted to ask him about his beautiful betrothed.
He wore a white léine beneath a short coat of embroidered black. His long, strong legs were encased in black hose and leather boots. The coat only reached his hips. His hose were not overly tight but the bulge peeking out from beneath the hem made Silene’s blood sizzle.
Streaks of gold eclipsed his eyes that had already found her.
Her uncle was patient while the captain stopped at Mac’s table and laughed with Padrig. Silene missed sitting with the men, laughing with them. She may have sighed. She straightened her shoulders and turned her attention to her uncle and his wife with dreadful anticipation.
Their gazes were steady on her while they waited.
Silene’s belly balled into a knot. They knew! They knew she cared for him. Surely, they could see it in her eyes, her darting glances. They could likely hear her heart beating, pounding like a drum.
She took a sip from her cup. Whatever was in it was starting to taste more like wine. Rather pleasant wine. She forgot the people she was sitting with and watched the captain share a furtive glance with Alex and Margaret.
He set his gaze on her table. On her.
Was he about to smile or scowl?
“Captain,” her uncle called out and startled her. “We tried to wait. Ye are tardy.”
Silene looked into her bowl. She didn’t dare look at him taking his seat at the steward’s right, on the other side of the table.
“Aye,” she heard him say. “Fergive me. Many sought to speak to me on my way to supper.”
“Aye. We bore witness,” the steward said dramatically. “Did we not…Sister?”
Silene’s face burned. He’d been watching her watching the captain. It was as if she could not control herself. She was mortified and finished with her supper.
“Sister?” His husky voice drew her gaze to him and set her spine on fire. “Fergive me fer makin’ ye wait here with this pompous fool.”
He eased her with amusement, and then he smiled at John, as if it were said in fun.
“Captain,” Matilda said, ignoring how he had just mocked her husband. “Is it true ye had to look after two of my little ones today?”
The captain’s spoon paused at his parted lips. His gaze flicked to the children’s table. “’Twas no trouble, my lady. They are well-behaved and rather fun.”
“I am pleased ye think so highly of them,” their mother offered. “Ye can keep them with ye since ye threw their teacher oot of Dundonald.”
The captain lowered his spoon and his voice. “I dismissed their teacher because he left yer children to their own defenses today. If ye wish me to look after them, I will.”
“Nonsense!” the steward slammed down his cup, drawing much attention to himself. “The captain isna here to watch over my bairns. I willna—”
“I will do it, my lord,” the captain told him. “I dinna mind. If I have things to see to that are dangerous, I will lock them in my chambers. They will be safe with me.”
Silene listened, looking up at him now and then while he spoke. This is what he did. He kept others safe. Her, the children. Heaven knew how many others. She was quite sure he did all this for Daffodil and the children. This would give them time to play together.
“In the meantime, my lady,” the captain said as he fixed his steady gaze on Matilda. “’Twill give ye time to find a more responsible teacher fer yer bairns.”
“Aye, Captain,” Matilda promised, granting him absolution for releasing the teacher. He was, after all, looking out for her children’s safety.
“What happened today that ye wanted me to know?” the steward asked him and then looked at his wife.
Silene flashed Matilda a glare.
“There is nothin’,” the captain assured him. He obviously didn’t feel the need to explain why Silene was alone with him in front of his open door.
Across from him, Silene smiled subtly.
“Captain.” Matilda kept her voice low and as dispassionate as she could. “I only bring it up because I dinna want tongues flappin’ and my husband’s reputation bein’ soiled.”
Ah, the truth. Finally. It was, of course, her husband’s reputation that concerned her. Not Silene’s.
“Well? What happened?” the steward demanded now.
“Nothin’ happened,” the captain told him, sounding irritated now. “One of the men’s cats gave birth to kitt
ens and I accepted one from him.”
“Captain, a cat? Why would ye?” Matilda complained.
“I ran into Sister Silene in the hall,” the captain continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I asked her to say a prayer over the small kitten. Yer wife came along and thought…well, I dinna know what she thought.”
The steward looked annoyed with his wife. “Was the novice in yer chambers alone with ye at any time?”
Silene was offended that her uncle hadn’t asked her the question. Did he not think he would get the truth from her?
“No, John,” the captain answered. “Yer bairns were in my room feedin’ the kitten.”
John tossed his wife another angry scowl. “Mayhap ye should quit concernin’ yerself with the captain’s doin’s.”
Matilda wasn’t finished. “Of course. Fergive me, but there is one more thing, Captain. Why would ye get a kitten when ye know ’tis what Margaret wants most?”
The captain exhaled and quirked his mouth just a little. “I think that is the verra reason I accepted it.”
Her husband laughed, but not to mock her. “Ye are clever, Galeren. One way or another, ye procured the pet fer my daughter withoot even needin’ my wife’s permission.”
The captain tried not to smile but Silene could see a hint of humor around his mouth.
“Ye are much like yer father,” the steward added. “A sly fox.”
Galeren laughed softly but shook his head and looked at Matilda, as if to say none of it was true. He hadn’t tried to fool her. Matilda didn’t seem to mind for too long and, once again, forgave him.
He didn’t use his innate charm for any malevolent purpose. He had done her no great harm.
Silene was glad that she forgave him so quickly and they could finish their meal.
Matilda turned to her. “Silene, ye imp. Why did ye not tell me of this animal the captain and my children adopted?”
Silene took another sip from her cup. “I am forbidden to speak of something someone tells me in confidence.”
That seemed to mollify her uncle’s wife and she finally went back to eating.
Her uncle and his wife were quite different from what she expected. She hadn’t expected that Matilda would be so fond of her husband’s captain. She wondered what the church would think of that.
“If you will excuse me.” Silene rose from her seat and swayed a little. The captain was up in a flash. She held up her hand to stop him from perhaps leaping over the table to help her. “’Tis time for my prayers and then bed.” She turned slowly toward her uncle. “Thank you for supper, my lord.”
She left the table without looking at the captain. She could be easily read—it seemed—around him. She hurried to her room and disappeared inside. Oh, she drank too much!
She pressed her back to the cool wood and finally let herself breathe and sway on her feet.
Were those footsteps she heard in the hall?
Someone knocked on the door. Three raps that made her want to leap from her skin.
“Go away,” she spoke out on the softest sigh.
“Silene,” his husky, Highland burr stirred her blood, her soul.
She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.
His voice came through the door and tore through her. “Silene, pray fer me.”
Chapter Eleven
The next sennight went by in a blur of prayers and practicing going before the church council. Silene also spent time with the captain, the children, and Daffodil. She helped them smuggle the kitten into Lizzie’s room so the two could meet.
One more little soldier in the captain’s army.
Silene’s duty was to distract Matilda and get her out of the chambers.
She almost failed when Matilda refused to leave her daughter alone.
“But she is so much better. And I will remain with her,” Silene offered. “Or do not go at all. ’Tis up to you. I will just go tell Captain MacPherson that you are unable to go to him.”
“Is he hurt?” Matilda asked, concerned.
Silene felt terrible for deceiving her, but the captain promised to go find her and speak to her about last night at the table. So, she was not really lying.
“Nay. He is not hurt.
“Fine then. I will go. Where is he?”
“In the great hall.”
“If my husband looks fer me, tell him where I am.”
Surprised, Silene nodded and felt worse. Matilda wasn’t overly fond of the captain. Perhaps she was concerned for him—as any friend would be.
She watched Matilda leave and closed her eyes to pray while she waited for the captain and the children.
“Where is Mummy?” came a small, quavering voice.
Silene spun around and smiled at Lizzie, swallowed up in the large bed.
“Greetings, Lizzie. I am Silene.” She sat in the chair beside the bed. “Your mummy will return in a few moments. How do you feel?”
The three-year-old girl nodded, which Silene concluded, meant that she felt well.
The door opened and Margaret came skipping in with Daffodil in her arms. Her brother walked in with a bit more dignity. Silene smiled at the captain when he strode inside last.
“Lizzie, look! A kitten!” Margaret held up Daffodil for inspection. It meowed and Lizzie smiled and held out her arms. She laughed when Margaret set the kitten down on the bed and it hopped up to Lizzie’s face and meowed again.
“Where is Matilda?” the captain asked her.
When Silene guiltily told him, he offered to leave and go find her.
“Not yet. Let Lizzie play with the kitten a little while longer. But you should not keep taking the kitten to Lizzie in secret. A babe’s laughter is a soothing sound for a mother.”
“Aye. Ye are correct,” he admitted. “Where are ye goin?” he asked when she smiled at Lizzie and turned for the door.
“I have confession with Father Nathaniel today. I believe I will be with him a little longer now.”
The captain’s smile was like the dawn after a long, harrowing night. It was also contagious—more so than Lizzie’s fever.
She hadn’t asked him about his betrothed and he hadn’t offered to tell her. She wondered when he would.
“This is the first time I have seen ye in two days. I’m thankful that ye havena sent me away.”
She wanted to agree but frowned. “I cannot stay.”
He nodded and drew in a deep breath. “Will ye tell Father Nate aboot me?”
Should she tell him? “I have not yet decided what to tell him. I fear things will get back to someone in the church and damage John’s dream.”
His gaze roved over her face, the only part of her showing in her full habit. He took her in like a lost man in a desert finding an oasis.
He said nothing. His eyes spoke for him. He wanted to kiss her, not just her lips, but her chin, her neck…lower. He wanted to ravish her.
“Captain, I—” She wanted to ask about Cecilia Birchet. But she didn’t.
She was too afraid she felt the same way about him and turned away.
“I must go.” She hurried out of the room—keeping Lizzie’s laughter in her thoughts instead of the heat of the captain’s gaze.
She found Matilda returning to the castle. When Silene told her the captain had gone to her chambers with the kitten and he waited for her there, she muttered an oath, but Silene knew she wouldn’t remain angry for long.
When she thought about it, she realized the captain didn’t need her help with Matilda. He had but to smile at her and she would give in. Silene wondered if she was so easily moldable in his hands.
She left the castle and made her way to the chapel. She slipped inside and looked for the priest. He’d come to her the day after she arrived but Father Alphonsus had been with him, so she didn’t get to say much.
She had much to confess. She asked him if it was a sin to change her mind about saying her vows. It didn’t go well. First, he warned her of her uncle’s ire, and then he warned her of God�
��s.
After her prayers and penance, Silene left the church. She wished she could talk to Agnes or Marjorie Anne. The sisters would never betray her. Would Father Nathaniel? Oh, why had she told him anything? He said God would be angry with her. She wrung her hands together and prayed as she hurried over the drawbridge and stepped through the inner gate. She didn’t want to go back to the castle yet.
She spread her gaze over the sunlit yard. The villagers were out and about. Perhaps someone needed some kind of help.
She started forward and spotted the captain descending the stairs behind Alex and Margaret. She hid behind the western wall and watched him step onto the grass. Daffodil was curled up in a tiny bundle at his neck. They walked away from the crowd and went behind the bakehouse and into the gardens of Dundonald. The children ran ahead and squealed with delight when the captain set the sleepy kitten in the grass. He called something out to the children.
Silene wanted to get closer. She couldn’t see the kitten from where she was but from the children’s laughter and the captain’s beaming smile, the little feline must have been doing something to please them.
She stepped out from her hiding place. He saw her immediately though he made no move to go to her. She could feel his eyes on her, facets of emerald, hooded, curious eyes. Her cheeks burned when he smiled and then turned to look over his shoulder to make certain they were alone.
“Did you speak to Lady Matilda?”
“Aye. She agreed that Daffodil was a bonny cat. But she still refuses to let the children keep her.”
Silene frowned but, as she suspected, Matilda wasn’t angry with him. He hadn’t needed Silene today. He wanted her there. He liked her being here now. He hadn’t stopped smiling.
“Did ye speak with Father Nate?”
“Aye.”
“Good. D’ye feel better then?”
“Nay,” she shook her head. “I feel worse. He told me God will be very angry with me if I changed my mind about my vows. That is not what I wish.”