Forbidden Heart (Hearts of the Highlands #6) - Paula Quinn Page 0,33

yer strenuous journey, Captain.”

He finally turned his attention back to her. “Ye see, I sent my best man to escort ye. Do ye not agree?”

“Thank you, my lord. Aye, I do. Your men were exemplary in every task they undertook to protect me from the jackals that hide in the darkness. They were brave, curious, and compassionate.”

Her uncle’s smile grew—on her this time. “Captain MacPherson and his men never disappoint. And ye…” He spread his sable-colored eyes over her. “Ye look well, Niece. I should have recognized that fiery hair. Fergive me fer makin’ ye wait.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Come! Come inside all of ye. My Matilda awaits!”

As they headed toward the inner gate, the captain turned and let his lips curl at the corners. Everything was going to be all right.

She followed them through the gate and looked up at the two high towers on either side. They headed for a large, stone stairway along the eastern wall. Its door, when they reached it, was made of heavy wood and wrought iron hinges. Her cousin opened it.

Silene would have felt uncomfortable, even afraid entering a crowded great hall on her own. But she wasn’t alone. The captain and his men surrounded her.

The captain walked inside after John and his children as if he were the master of the castle, home from a journey.

When they saw him and the men behind him, those in the great hall lifted their drinks and leaped to their feet, quick in greeting.

“Captain, ’tis good to have ye home,” most declared while others shoved drinks into their hands.

The captain took a cup that was offered. Mac and the others followed suit, including Silene.

“Who is the red-haired lad?” a man called out.

The captain took a swig of his drink, which turned out to be ale when Silene took a sip. The captain swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, fully refreshed. Silene cringed, shivered and shook her head at the rest.

She felt his gaze on her. When she looked and saw that she was correct, her heart grew warm and she blushed with the heat of it.

She nodded, reassuring him that she was well.

He smiled as if he couldn’t help himself, for he coughed a little and tore his gaze away.

But those watching him saw it and grew quiet.

“She is Sister Silene,” he called out a moment later.

“Aye, my niece,” the steward let them know. But if he was worried about his men making advances, she could have told him that every eye in this place did not doubt that she was highly valued by the captain.

Once again, he provided her safety.

“Welcome, Sister,” most called out, studying her more closely for curves in her tunic and hose.

“My veil and wimple are stained in blood or I would be wearing them,” she told them, tired of explaining.

The men held up their cups as soon as they heard about her clothing being bloodstained.

She smiled at them and thought it might not be so terrible here.

“My lord,” the captain called out. “Where can she rest?”

Her uncle gave her a remorseful look. “Fergive me,” he laughed at himself. “I am a great oaf withoot my wife at my left and my captain at my right.”

His right.

“Where is yer wife, Lord?” the captain asked.

“Matilda is upstairs with our three-year-old girl, Lizzie.”

“Oh?” Silene asked, her ears perked. “Is the babe unwell?”

A moment passed before the steward nodded. Why had he not answered sooner? His eyes appeared a bit glazed over by…indifference. His lips didn’t curl downward, saddened to have to tell of his sick child, they were set straight and unyielding.

“May I be shown to them?” she asked.

“Why?” her uncle asked.

“To offer prayer.”

“You can pray anywhere,” he insisted.

Up until this moment, the captain had remained quiet. Now, he stepped up in front of the steward. “I can vouch fer her. She will do them no harm.”

The steward’s flinty gaze bored into him. “Ye vouch fer her with my wife and child?”

“I do.” The captain wasted no more time but turned to a female servant. “Louise, take her to her mistress’ chambers.”

When he was done, his gaze skidded to Silene’s then back to the steward. “She is as innocent as a fawn in the brush,” she heard him tell the steward. “I also made an agreement with Mother Mary Joseph that I would bring her back safely. I willna shrink from my duty.”

Their voices grew fainter and she and Louise left the great hall. They reached another stone stairway and ascended to