Forbidden Heart
Page 15
“Are ye the novice?” the woman asked.
“Aye.”
The woman’s deep blue, fathomless eyes moved over her. “Be attentive, gel. Everyone is not who they claim to be. He deceives. He deceives and the captain does not know.”
“What?” Silene blinked. “Who are you? Who deceives?”
But the woman hurried away into the woods.
Silene stood in her spot long enough to draw attention. What did she mean? Who wasn’t who he claimed? Why was someone hiding his true purpose?
“Sister?”
She looked up at Mac and smiled.
“What are ye doin’ here? I saw ye just standin’ here lookin’ like ye were lost. Are ye all right?”
“Aye,” she told him. “There was a woman here with me. She just ran off.”
“What did she want with ye?”
Silene sealed her lips. Mac could be up to something. No. Not Mac.
“She wanted prayer,” she told him just the same.
He nodded and walked her back to the castle. They spoke about Daffodil the kitten and a lass of the same name who Mac thought was pleasing to the eye. Silene missed Mac. She missed the four of them bantering all day. She loved that one or two of them even started praying with her before they came to Dundonald. Mac was one of them. Morgann was the other.
When they reached the doors, Mac bid her a good day. “Twas good seein’ ye again, Sister.”
Mac would never betray Galeren. He was Galeren’s best friend, and a good one to her, as well. She hoped he was genuine. How would she know? What did she know of men? Friends?
She headed for her chambers but stopped when she heard her name. She turned in the hall to see her uncle, the steward.
He hurried toward her. “I was lookin’ for ye.”
“You found me,” she said with a smile, despite his stoic expression.
“The leaders of the church are here. Over a dozen bishops and priests are here to meet ye.”
What? Today! No! “Uncle, I—”
For a moment, his gaze softened on her. “I know. I wasna expectin’ them either.” He clenched his jaw and straightened his shoulders. “I hope ye are ready fer them. If ye are not, then go practice. They expect certain rituals to be performed. Ye are to know what they are. Vanquish all distractions. There will be an informal gatherin’ in the town hall at dusk. Dinna fail me, Niece.”
“How could I fail you?” she asked with a quirk of her brow.
“Ye will remember what ye are and forsake all others. I dinna care what ye feel. Ye will put it all aside and fulfill the purpose fer which ye were born.”
“I need more time, Uncle.”
His eyes opened wider then darkened on her. “More time fer what?” He didn’t let her answer. “To decide if the priory is right fer ye? Let me help ye, Sister. If ye say or do anythin’ other than speak yer vow next spring, I will make yer life and the life of whoever is with ye a livin’ nightmare. I will destroy what ye desire.”
“You threaten me?” she asked, trying not to sound as incredulous as she felt.
“I see it more like a promise.” His grin looked almost misshapen with satisfaction. “Remember. Dusk.”
He left, disappearing down the hall. She needed to go to confession about how she felt about her uncle. He sought prestige and little else. He didn’t care about her, so there was nothing else to say.
When she turned down the corridor, she saw Will huddled in a shadowed corner laughing with a woman.
Silene smiled and ducked into her chambers before they saw her. She shut the door and locked it. She leaned against the other side for a moment and then went to her bed. What was she to do? The captain wanted her to leave Dundonald with him—perhaps leave St. Patrice’s.
She wasn’t returning to the priory. She’d known it before she left. Was she going to Invergarry instead? Or would her uncle make good on his threat?
Where was the captain? She wanted to go find him. She wanted to tell him that her uncle had threatened her. No. He didn’t need to know. Not yet. Why rile him up and draw more attention to them? She had to go before the church whether she went with Galeren or not. She had to ease her uncle’s suspicions and prove that he was favorably tied to the church—after he’d just threatened her. She couldn’t do it.
Closing her eyes, she breathed and tried to remain calm. They were going to ask her about God. That she could do.
Would the captain be there? John had said it was informal. Did she want the captain there? Would she draw strength from him or let him sap her of it?
She made the sign of the cross and removed her veil and wimple. She felt hot. It was hard to breathe.
What was she going to do about the captain? Did going with him mean giving up her vows? Not unless she went to his bed as his wife. If she chose him over her vows was it forgivable? Father Nate confused her. She had the comforting feeling that it was.
She breathed out a little laugh. Who knew if Captain Galeren even wanted a wife? Oh, the questions were making her feel mad.
She looked around the room to the folded gown smuggled into her bag by little Adam’s mother in Hamsertown. She went to it. She hadn’t unfolded it and she’d barely touched it. The captain had advised her to keep it. She ran her hands over the soft purple silk. She couldn’t imagine how much fabric like it cost.
She had to have gone mad, indeed, because she peeled away her habit and picked up the silken bundle. She smiled as all logic left her and she imagined herself showing up in it tonight at the town hall.
She let the folds spill from her hand and held it up to admire its shape and cut, and the delicate silver stitches along the square neckline.
With a rush of heat going through her, she pulled the gown over her head and ran her arms through the tapered sleeves. She felt the breath leave her body at the feel of the silk falling over her body. She had never owned anything so luxurious and it had been a gift! She wished she had a mirror, but she ran her palms down the dress, feeling the slightly loose fit and expert craftsmanship.
She could never wear it to meet members of the church. She smiled at her silly ravings. She would be excommunicated and perhaps her uncle would be kicked out of the church with her.
She pretended to be married to the captain, waiting for him in the bedroom while he bid good eve to their last guest. Soon, he would be here. He would ravish her, unable to resist her another instant—and no longer having to.
She closed her eyes, feeling his breath on her, his woodsy scent covering her. His sumptuous lips roved over hers and down her chin to the thrashing pulsebeat at her throat. He kissed her and held her waist in his hands.
Her eyes opened. Stop! This would do her no good if she were meeting the men of the church tonight.
She grew serious. She had to be the epitome of purity. That’s what they believed. The truth was that she wasn’t pure, and she didn’t know her uncle. He paid for everything she needed but he had visited her only once. If they asked her what she thought of him, she would tell them that he made certain she always had what she needed. Hopefully, he did the same for her family. She would tell them nothing else until her uncle threatened her again. Then, she would tell them that.
She stepped out of the gown. She never planned on wearing it and packed it into her bag.
She donned her gray robes and sat in a chair by the window. She took out her beads and her small book of prayers and there she stayed until the sun began its lazy descent.
When it came time to leave, she put on her wimple and veil, tucking every strand of her hair beneath.
She felt more peaceful and ready to face them. She searched the halls for the captain and hated herself for it.
Before she reached the town hall, she saw the lights from dozens of candles and the hearth fire glowing from inside.
What would these men be like? She would find out soon but, first, she spotted someone waiting outside the doors. Her escort? Was her uncle so thoughtful? She didn’t think so.
“Captain.” There was so much she wanted to say to him. So much waiting to roll off her tongue, held back by strength she didn’t know she possessed. “What are you doing here?” He wasn’t alone. Mac, Will, Padrig, and Morgann were there, smiling at her, soothing her nerves.
“How d’ye feel?” he asked, looking her over.
“Anxious, I will admit.”
“Remember what I told ye,” Will drawled. “They shyte like the rest of us.”
Now, instead of whacking his brother with his fist, Padrig nodded.
“We just heard aboot the gatherin’,” the captain said. “John planned it withoot my knowledge, which speak volumes to me. I am goin’ to escort ye inside and whoever doesna like it will have to stop me himself.”
“He will have to stop us all,” Padrig said.
“I will stop you all right now!” she argued. “You must not come inside with me. The moment they see you they will draw conclusions.” She looked at Galeren. She hadn’t told him that John threatened her life. There was no time now. “Please, if you were hurt…”
“Verra well. We will do as ye ask,” he comforted. “But we will remain ootside and escort ye back when this is over.”
She turned to the door, opened it, and stepped inside. Into a sea of men who all turned to look at her as she entered, leaving the five warriors outside.
All went silent for an eternal moment, and then someone cleared his throat and the buzz of their voices began again.
“Well now,” said a man suddenly standing behind her. “This must be Sister Silene.”
“Aye, my dear niece.” John hurried over and introduced her to the men.
Her heart thumped hard in her chest but remarkably, she didn’t feel anxious or afraid.
“Sister Silene, ’tis a delight to meet you,” said a bishop. He was a tall man with foggy, brown eyes and thin white hair that fell over his large ears. He’d been introduced as The Most Reverend Thomas Graham, Bishop of Glasgow. “May I ask, when did you take your vows?”
Her eyes opened a little wider, and then she remembered her habit and smiled. “Oh, Your Excellency, I have not spoken them yet. I am a novice. My white habit was destroyed while traveling here. The steward’s kind wife found a gray habit for me to wear for now.”
The bishop’s smile was laced with regret. “When will you take your vows?”
“My ceremony is next spring.”
He glanced at a group of leaders standing close by and listening.
“Stewart?” called Abbot Neville of Scone. “We were told she was a nun.”
“She practically is one!” her uncle defended.
“Practically,” said Abbot Neville for all to hear, “is not good enough.”
Chapter Fourteen
Silene stepped into the brisk night and looked up into Galeren’s eyes. He was the last person she wanted to see. She looked away.
“Captain,” she managed to speak. She didn’t know how. “You and your men may go. As you can see, I have two escorts, Father Michael and Father Benedict.”
“What is it? What has happened?” Galeren asked, not paying attention to her introduction. He looked angry, frightened. He moved to touch her, but she stepped back before her two escorts took notice.
“Please, Captain,” she pleaded softly. “Go. We will speak another time.”
She didn’t want to see him, smell him, feel him in her blood. She didn’t want to talk. She needed to be alone to shiver and weep in private.
She was falling in love with the captain. Falling in love with a man.
Are You angry?
“Please excuse me, Captain.” She turned on her heel and left. He didn’t follow her. She was glad. She didn’t want to explain.
Her time had come to an end, taken from her. The church would not offer her uncle any favor or place on their council for having a novice in the family. They were stretching things accepting a nun. They were quick to remind the steward of it.
But they were here, her uncle had pointed out. Why couldn’t she speak her vows now? They agreed. There was to be a ceremony in two days.
Two days. Not next spring.
She walked, stunned and numb, back to her chambers. She didn’t remember when her two escorts left her.
Two days.
She entered her chambers wishing she’d never met the captain. If she hadn’t, she would have been thrilled to say her vows in two days. Now, her heart was breaking.
If he hadn’t come for her, she would have spoken her vows to God and if she had met Galeren later, it would be too late for anything…
Was this feeling that it wasn’t too late so comforting because there was still time to do something about it?
She wanted more time to pray. She had a lifetime decision to make in just two days. Speak her vows to help her uncle or run away with the captain.
If she ran away, her uncle would have no more need of her and would likely have her followed and killed for shaming him. He’d already promised to make her life, and whoever was with her, a nightmare. She didn’t doubt him.
Not only would her decision change her life, it could cost her her life, as well. Or Galeren’s. Or both.
She pulled off her veil and wimple, everything down to her chemise and boots, everything but her beads around her neck.
Even if God wasn’t angry with her, riding to the north with an army on their backs didn’t appeal.
She fell to her knees before her bed and clasped her hands together. She’d been trained since she was fourteen to give her life to God. Why would He send a man like Galeren MacPherson into her life? Why did Galeren find her the most peaceful places to pray? Help her feed Adam and his family? Fight with savage passion for her? Adopt a kitten to please a little girl?
Someone knocked on the door. She thought it might be the captain and was tempted to open the door just as she was.
“Go away.”
“Silene.” It was Bishop Graham’s voice. “May I have a word with you?”
Was she allowed to deny a bishop? She sighed and rose to dress. “Coming.”
When she opened the door, she found the bishop’s warm smile soothing.
“Come in, Your Excellency.”
“Father is fine,” he corrected gently and entered.
She left the door opened and walked around him to face him and smile.
“I wanted to speak to you about what will happen a pair of days from now.”
She wrung her skirts and wondered if he would notice that she wasn’t breathing.
“Vows are a promise to God, child.”
“Aye, Father, I understand.”
“If you say them,” he went on anyway, “you must not go back on your word.”
She nodded. What did he know? Why was he here?
“What is it that brings you such sadness and regret?”
She blinked. Did she dare lie to a bishop? She felt ill. Was she that transparent? “How…how did you know I was troubled?”
He smiled and his ears appeared even larger. “My dear, when we told you that you would be saying your vows now instead of in the spring, you looked as if we had just destroyed all your hopes and dreams.”
She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell him about the captain. Her heart drummed. She drew her fingers to her brow. She missed having someone to talk to whom she trusted. She missed Agnes and the others.
“I cannot repeat what you tell me in confession,” he assured her.
“I…I am unsure.”
He lifted a bushy brow. “About what?”
She closed her eyes. If he went to her uncle or any of the others, all would be lost.
“Saying my vows,” she confessed to him.
“Why?” he asked softly. “Is your faith fading?”
“Oh, nay, Father. My faith is not in danger.�
� Her life was, but she couldn’t tell that much to him. He would have to do something to protect her and would have to repeat what she told him.
“’Tis my heart.”
“Ah, I see.”
She lifted her gaze. “You do?”
He nodded. But his smile hadn’t returned.
“I hate that I feel so terrible about something that stirs my heart so wondrously.”
The bishop was quiet for a while, and then he asked, “And he has made you question a life in a priory?”
“Aye, Father.”
He sighed, either with frustration or acceptance. He was difficult to read.
“What should I do?”
He shrugged, stretching his dark blue robes across his chest. “I cannot tell you what to do. I can only tell you that a sister is something you should want to be. You can still serve the Lord either way.”
She nodded and smiled. She believed it to be true.
“Seek His guidance,” he told her, finally smiling back. “You will find it.”
“May I ask,” she began and continued when he did not refuse, “what will happen to my uncle if I do not speak them? How will he be affected?”
“Silene,” he said on a whisper, “you cannot speak these vows to God for any other reason than that you wish to dedicate your entire life to Him. If you say them to appease your uncle…” he shook his head instead of continuing. “You are better off not speaking them. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Are you advising me to—”
“I’m advising you to seek the truth about your heart. If you are in love with a man who makes you question—”
“Father, I have two days to decide.”
He smiled at her with understanding. “I was once given moments to decide if I should side with the Scot’s king, who had been thrown into prison, or England’s king, who ruled more territories day after day.”
“How did you decide?” she asked.
“I let God lead me. My path came in the form of a soft breeze from the north.”
“A soft breeze?”
He nodded. “Aye, child. Sometimes, we just need to listen.”
He left her to pray, which she did for the entire day. She didn’t leave her chambers save to visit the garderobe, or open the door for her food, of which she ate little.