Forbidden Heart

by Quinn, Paula

  “Once we were married, he would have done nothing,” Cecilia assured them. “I do not love you, William. You are pretty, but he is pretty and powerful.”

  “Get away from him, Cecilia,” Will warned her.

  Galeren had never seen him so serious. What had come over his friend? This was Cecilia! The one Will used to complain about. He saw one of her men inching up behind Will.

  “Behind ye!” Galeren instinctively shouted.

  Will turned, unsheathing his blade. But he was too late.

  Galeren pulled and tried to free himself until his wrists bled. He watched her soldier run Will through and his friend sink to the floor. “Will!” he shouted again. “Will!” But Will didn’t answer.

  Galeren set his deadly gaze on Will’s killer. “I’m goin’ to kill ye.”

  The man laughed.

  “Get out!” she shouted at her men. “All of you! Out!”

  When they were gone, she didn’t spare Will a glance but rushed to the bed.

  “Captain, I do not want to kill you. I love you.”

  He shook his head. “Ye dinna love me, and I dinna love ye.”

  She smiled, looking as serene as a windless loch. She was mad and spoiled to the point of no return.

  “Captain,” she purred, pulling back his fur covering with her finger. “If I cannot have your love, let me at least have your body.”

  He pulled and tugged on his bindings as she exposed him.

  He was flaccid, sickened by her and the death of his friend, concerned only for Silene.

  She lifted her skirts, ready to mount him.

  “Cecilia!” he said in a commanding voice. “Ye will get nothin’ from me this way.” He knew what she wanted to hear. “Untie me and I will show ye what bein’ chaste fer six years has done to me.” He’d already showed his wife, but Cecilia didn’t know that.

  He saw her shiver. She attempted to climb atop him but he bent his legs. If he had to kick her into the hearth fire, he would.

  “Untie me, Cecilia.”

  She blinked and smiled. “You are like a sorcerer, Captain.” She patted her flush face.

  “Cut me loose. If havin’ my body is what ye want, I will let ye do to me as ye will.”

  She pressed her index finger to the dip in his hip.

  He clenched his teeth, not wanting her to touch him. “Cecilia—”

  “Shh. I’m cutting,” she whispered, leaning up over him and cutting his binds.

  The instant his hands were free, he cupped them around her nape and smashed his forehead into hers, making her reel. “Next time, I will crack open yer skull. Now, tell me where my wife is.”

  “Men!” she croaked out. They came running. The first reached him in an instant, before he had any time to plan an attack. It didn’t stop Galeren from snatching Cecilia’s knife and jamming it into his opponent. The one who killed Will. He looked into the man eyes and twisted the blade.

  Galeren let the man go and took an instant to ready himself for more, then flung the bloody blade into the neck of the second man.

  A third and fourth rushed toward them. Galeren fought them, ducking and stepping out of the way of their blades. He punched one and knocked him out, grabbed his sword and cut the last man down in two brutal swings.

  Without pause, he rushed to his hose and boots and put them on.

  Cecilia screamed in horror. Blood spurted from a deep gash in her throat, “Galeren!” she cried out. She’d been cut in the fighting.

  He lifted her in his arms. She would be dead soon. There was nothing he could do. “Where did he take her, Cecilia. Where is she?”

  “She is all…you…care about.” Cecilia managed, growing weaker.

  “Aye. She is all. Tell me what I wish to know.”

  Tears filled her eyes and they closed. “The steward…told me to meet him at Laggan.”

  Galeren looked down at her and shook his head. “Ye shouldna have come here, Cecilia.”

  She did not answer.

  He took his plaid and Will’s sword and left.

  He knew where Laggan was, but he didn’t believe John was on his way there. Especially at night. There were too many small rivers he would have to ride around. Like Morgann, John knew that Galeren could track him.

  John wouldn’t take the chance of telling Cecilia where he was truly going. Any fool knew that she would tell Galeren if he persisted.

  He took a lantern and tied it around his horse’s neck and then followed the tracks down the hill. Most went south, back toward Ayr. One set led north.

  He would kill John if he had to. If John hurt her, Galeren would kill him.

  Silene woke up in a strange forest, tied by her ankles to a tree by a small fire. Her jaw felt sore. He uncle had struck her.

  She was supposed to pray for her enemies. She could not pray for her uncle yet.

  “Ah, ye are awake.”

  Her uncle’s voice. She closed her eyes again, not wanting to speak to him. Ever again. But she could not do that.

  “This was foolish of you, Uncle. The captain was your loyal friend, and yet you allowed him to be killed.”

  “Ye both betrayed me, Silene. I am the one who will never fergive. But Captain MacPherson isna dead,” he corrected. “I handed him over to his betrothed.”

  “I am his wife!” she argued.

  He slapped her hard in the face. “William of Lorn told Miss Birchet and I aboot yer blasphemous vows to my captain. They willna hold up fer long. I am bringin’ ye to Father Alphonsus. He will annul yer marriage and ye will speak yer vows. I have given ye another chance, Niece. Though ye dinna deserve it. Ye care more fer a cock than—”

  “You disgust me.”

  His gaze grew dark and Silene was afraid she’d gone too far. She was helpless tied to the tree.

  “And ye think ye dinna disgust me?” he asked incredulously. “My dear, ye are nothin’ but a whore.”

  She heard something in the forest, just beyond the tree line. Her uncle heard it, too.

  He rose with his sword as dawn broke. He went to the tree line and peered inside, and then entered.

  Silene smiled, but she was worried. Was it Galeren? It had to be! He was alive! But what lengths would her uncle go to in order to keep her with him and get her to Father Alphonsus?

  Should she call out a warning? “He is coming!”

  A loud, crashing noise sounded from the trees, and then everything went still.

  Silene waited what seemed an eternity and then heard someone returning.

  Thrilled to see her husband come from out of the trees, she tried to free herself, to no avail. The rope her uncle had tied her with was thick and scratchy around her ankles.

  She saw a figure. It wasn’t Galeren. Her heart thumped madly in her chest. She grew terrified and mournful. How could her uncle have beaten him? But no. It wasn’t her uncle either.

  Morgann ran toward her. “Sister! Sister, we must make haste!” He looked over his shoulder at the trees. “He will be comin’ any moment now. I dinna know how hard I struck him.”

  Morgann? Morgann was saving her?

  “Morgann! Oh, thank you, Morgann! I knew you had a pure heart!” she cried while he cut her loose. “Where have you been these last few days?”

  “No time now.” The rope was thick, and his knife was dull, and her uncle was coming, walking a bit crooked. But coming.

  “Where is the captain?” he asked fretfully, sawing at the rope and looking over his shoulder.

  She shook her head. “Alive, I pray.”

  “Bell!” the steward called out. “Ye, too? Ye betray me fer her, as well?”

  “I canna let ye kill her, my lord,” Morgann stood up and faced him. “She is my friend and…so was the captain before I betrayed him.”

  “After all I have done fer ye, ye ungrateful son of a whore!” her uncle accused. “I took ye in. I—”

  “Ye asked me to kill a nun!”

  “She isna a nun,” her uncle told him. “She wed the captain tod
ay.”

  Morgann turned around to look down at her. A smile lit his face. She thought how handsome he was when he smiled like that.

  “God chose well, Sis—Silene.”

  She smiled at him. She would speak to her husband on Morgann’s behalf. She would—she heard a slight thump. Morgann’s smile froze on his face.

  “Morgann?” she whispered, already bringing her hands to her throat. “Morgann. Nay!”

  The young man folded to his knees and then his face hit the ground. A knife protruded from his back.

  Silene wept for him and prayed he wouldn’t die. Though her vision was blurred with tears, she could make out her uncle walking closer.

  “John!”

  She turned at the wonderful sound of her husband’s voice. He lived! Oh, thank You! Thank You!

  She took hold of the knife Morgann had used to try to free her and continued at the task.

  Galeren appeared unhurt and handsome, wrapped up in his plaid. When she finally freed herself, she wanted to run to him. But their reunion would have to wait. Her husband was here to fight, proving it by wielding a sword and standing ready to battle.

  “Ah, Galeren, old friend. Have ye come to try to kill me with the blade ye already have in my back, or with that one in yer hands?”

  Galeren shrugged off the accusation. “In yer back, yer heart, whatever it takes to kill ye if ye hurt her.”

  The steward’s pained expression grew darker. “Ye and Silene took everythin’ from me. I…I was goin’ to let ye live because ye have, indeed, become my friend, one who is dear to my heart.”

  Her husband smiled and Silene remembered what he had said about his father. He isna the friendliest. He only makes ye believe he is. That is how he brought down the most English strongholds in the kingdoms. From the inside.

  Galeren’s smile radiated with beauty, as his mother’s did. It was practiced and insincere like his father’s.

  “Then come away from her,” Galeren said.

  Her uncle shook his head. “I need her. This isna over.”

  “Tis,” her husband corrected. “’Tis over now. We were wed earlier. She is now my wife.

  “Annulled by Father Alphonsus.”

  “It cannot be annulled, Uncle,” she told him. “’Twas consummated enough that I am likely carrying his babe.”

  “John!” Galeren thundered lifting his sword to fight. “Come away from her or ye will force me to cut ye down!”

  “Ye willna kill me. The king would—”

  “Believe what I tell him,” Galeren shouted. “Fer I am his captain, not yers.”

  “Wh…what?” her uncle stammered.

  Silene smiled. He was his father’s son.

  “What are ye sayin’?”

  “Come away from her and I will tell ye my great secret.”

  Her uncle’s eyes widened first in horror that he’d been tricked, and then with rage. “Ye report to King David?”

  Instead of waiting for an answer, the steward spun around and lifted his blade. But he didn’t run toward his captain. He ran screeching at her.

  Silene lifted the hem of her chemise over her calves and ran for her life. Her uncle was going to kill her. She had no doubt. She prayed to escape.

  She turned for an instant to look over her shoulder. The steward was upon her, reaching for her.

  And then Galeren was there, in the air over him. He’d bounded off a tree stump and fell on the steward as her uncle’s fingers curled around the neckline of her chemise.

  The two men went down and took her with them.

  They weren’t fighting. Something was terribly wrong.

  She screamed when she saw that Galeren had landed on her uncle’s sword. The blade protruded from his back and flashed with blood in the morning sun.

  He moved! He wasn’t dead! When he rose up on the steward, she saw the hilt against his belly to the right. It hadn’t seemed to cut through anything more than flesh and perhaps some bone.

  She made the sign of the cross.

  He swung around to hold his blade over the steward. But her uncle grasped the hilt sticking out of Galeren and began to twist it.

  Silene knew the damage would be much worse in another moment. She was still holding Morgann’s knife. Without thought or plan, she fell with it upon her uncle’s chest, burying the blade deep.

  She looked down at what she had done. She felt ill. She had just killed a man. But… her husband still lived. She felt his hand on her. He was alive.

  It didn’t take Galeren’s men long to find them after a villager’s daughter told Lionell that she’d seen the captain riding off into the night.

  After a quick examination by Padrig, he deemed the sword could be safely removed from his friend and proceed to pull it out. Mac had whisky in a pouch at his belt. They poured it on Galeren’s wound, then brought his horse back to him.

  He couldn’t ride alone without slipping from the saddle. Padrig offered to ride with him and hold him up.

  Thankfully, Morgann lived and was taken back to the stronghold with Mac.

  Her uncle was dead. She had killed him. She was responsible for making his children fatherless. How would God ever forgive her? How would she ever forgive herself?

  “Where is Will?” Padrig asked.

  Her husband grimaced. “Padrig, he…he is dead.” He turned his head to look at Silene riding close by. She saw his eyes shimmer with unshed tears. Will. She lamented. Will was dead.

  “How?” Padrig demanded. “Where is he?”

  “At the cottage,” her husband told him, grimacing in pain, then holding up his hand to stop her when she would have ridden closer. “He was tryin’ to save me. I had been…knocked oot and tied to the bed. I couldna help him. I am sorry.”

  Padrig hung his head. Silene loved her husband for not telling Padrig that Will had betrayed them.

  “My love?” he said, turning to look at her, as if knowing what she had done and what it had done to her. “We will get through it together, aye?”

  She smiled and nodded. Her life would never be the same, but she would be able to face it with God and her warrior husband at her side.

  One month later…

  Galeren let Lionell adjust his formal plaid. He was wedding Silene today for the second time in the sight of all his kin. His side only pained him a little. He’d developed an infection and had grown quite ill. But besides Silene, he had plenty of people looking after him who helped him grow better, stronger.

  Silene also was growing better every day. With him and his kin, and, of course, Father Timothy constantly at her side, she smiled more and more. She’d spent much time with the priest, discussing her feelings and thoughts and praying with him. Father Timothy was a soothing balm.

  Galeren didn’t mind that she went to the Lord with her troubles before she brought them to him. She was almost fully recovered and finally laughed with him at Daffodil jumping off the walls.

  “Ready?” Lionell asked.

  It was what he wanted over and above everything else—to spend the rest of his days with her. He nodded and followed his brother outside and to the church.

  His kin were there waiting, as well as his men, Mac, Padrig, and Morgann. He’d forgiven Morgann since he himself had done the same thing, and because Morgann risked his life for Silene, but mostly, because Silene had asked it of him.

  Agnes had arrived a sennight after a letter had arrived from the prioress saying that the girl was leaving the priory. Galeren had penned an invitation to come to the stronghold. She had accepted.

  Silene’s father had died last month. No one had told her. Her mother had been brought to the stronghold by the men. Their reunion was tearful and somewhat strained. It would take time for them to come to know each other. They had time.

  They buried Will and forgave him. Galeren knew that when a man loved a woman it made him do mad things.

  He reached Father Timothy and waited for the bride to appear.

  Tonight, they would sleep in his ro
om, where they had been sleeping for the last month.

  They had tried making love, but he had suffered three broken ribs and moving under or atop her was too painful to enjoy. There were other ways to please her—and she, him. But tonight, he felt well and fit. Tonight, they would begin their lives together.

  He heard the crowd of witnesses whispering and looked toward the entrance. Geva entered the church, followed by Adela, and then Elysande at the rear.

  After her, Daffodil came traipsing down the aisle, meowing. She knew where to go and padded straight for Father Timothy, her new dearest.

  Galeren held his breath at the sight of Silene coming in last. How could she think she was anything but ravishing and beautiful? Especially so in her purple gown altered to perfection to fit, though her belly hadn’t yet begun to swell with the growth of his babe.

  Her hair had grown but was still short enough around her nape for him to kiss her neck every chance he got. What there was of her hair was pulled into an intricate knot at the back and loose locks around her temples.

  She was bonnier to him than a thousand sunrises. Whatever life he’d had before, this was the one he wanted now. To be here—with her and everyone and everything he loved.

  He would send men to Hethersgill and bring his grandparents, if his grandsire still lived, to Invergarry and mayhap one day, he would see Margaret and Alex again. He would ask their forgiveness for losing their father.

  His smile grew into a wide grin when she reached him.

  “My love, I’m happy I told ye to keep the dress.”

  She lifted her fingers and giggled behind them. “I’m glad it pleases you, my beloved.”

  Father Timothy cleared his throat to quiet them and opened the holy book. Daffodil clawed her way up the outside of his robes and fell into his pocket.

  Galeren and Silene smiled at Daffodil and then at each other as if they were parents smiling over some sweet thing their child had just done.

  Father Timothy began reading and Galeren watched her, noting how radiant she was and feeling weak at the sight of her.

  He didn’t remember too much of the ceremony until it came time to kiss his wife. She tasted of honey and pumpkin. It made him hungry for more of her.