Forbidden Heart (Hearts of the Highlands #6) - Paula Quinn Page 0,32
was a priest standing off to the right of the altar. He looked up, his stern, weathered face set toward her. “Who is there? Who comes barging into the House of the Lord?”
Silene slowed her pace. She touched her hooded head and wished she’d worn her bloodstained wimple and veil.
“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