Forbidden Heart (Hearts of the Highlands #6) - Paula Quinn Page 0,74

played a little, but they both knew how sober the matter of God was.

She nodded and rested her head on his arm. She loved being close to him.

“I wonder how many suitors will call fer yer hand.”

She laughed and then lifted her other hand to his arm. “I’m going to miss sleeping with you, Captain.”

“Lass,” he said, stopping before they reached the torchlight of the manor house. “I would love to bring ye right back to the priest and marry ye tonight, but my vow was said. I canna break it now. I fear if I hold ye next to me another night…in a bed, I willna have the strength to resist ye.”

“Of course,” she agreed immediately. She looked up at him. “When is your vow over?

“In four or five more days. I must check with Father Timothy, and then we will wed, if ye will have me.”

She laughed feeling butterflies in her belly. “Of course, I will. But…”

“Aye, love?”

“I know nothing of intimacy,” she confessed.

“No?” he asked in a low, doubtful voice. “I feel intimate with ye every time our gazes meet.”

Her heart felt about to burst. “I love you, Captain.” She wanted to shout it from the walkways for all to hear, but she whispered so only he could.

He took her in his arms and pressed her close. “And I love ye, Silene Sparrow.”

He bent his head to hers. She closed her eyes and trembled in his arms as his mouth covered her. He tasted of eagerness and wavering control. His tongue swept like a curious flame over the deepest caverns of her moth His hands moved across her back, drawing her closer as his lips molded with hers.

She groaned in his mouth and they both broke away from the other at the same time. It took every ounce of strength she possessed not to leap back into his arms. He looked as if he were going through the same battle.

She smiled at him and he smiled back. Neither of them saw the pair of eyes watching them from the treetops.

The doors to the first house opened.

“Ah, there you are!” Braya Hetherington MacPherson threw up her hands. “Wait until I get my hands on that priest!”

“Forgive me for keeping Father Timothy,” Silene said quickly and softly. “I had many questions. He was quite patient. ’Tis my fault. If you are angry, please let it be with me.”

“Oh, I’m not angry with him,” his mother promised. “Now come, Silene, my dear. Let me show you to your room.”

His mother took her arm and led her forward, walking together. She was a full head shorter that Silene, though she strode as if she were royalty.

Silene told her about her conversation with Father Timothy and her decision not to speak her vows.

“Well then,” his mother said. “Are we going to have a marriage celebration here soon?”

Behind them, Galeren walked with his father, the legendary “Shadow” of King Robert the Bruce’s army, Torin MacPherson.

“Braya, my sweet,” he said to his wife, “our son is required to woo her.”

“Woo me?” Silene asked turning to him.

“Aye,” his father said. “Woo ye. Court ye. Pay lovin’ attention to ye. He must do these things fer ye. Pen ye a sonnet or read to ye.”

Silene believed she would like this wooing. “What do I do for him?”

They all stared at her. “Wooin’ is fer ye,” Galeren’s father told her. ’Tis somethin’ a suitor does for the lady, to win her heart.”

She covered her smile with her hand. She liked Torin MacPherson but she decided that if Galeren was going to woo her, she was going to woo him back.

They brought her to the middle house, which was Torin and Braya’s house.

“We break fast in the dining hall at an hour after sunup,” Braya told her.

“Oh, dear!” Silene said bringing her hand to her chest. “I promised to break fast with Father Timothy. Forgive me for—”

“We are happy ye and the good Father Timothy are gettin’ along so well,” Galeren told her. His parents agreed.

“Make no plans for supper though,” his mother said, trying to look stern—which made her husband smile as he stared at her. “You will sup with us.”

“I would love to. Thank you.”

Galeren’s father beamed at her. “Ye are courteous. ’Tis a good trait, that.”

Now Galeren was smiling at her. “Aye,” he agreed.

“Do you know any of the tales of Arthur Pendragon and his knights?” Braya asked her, leading them inside.

“Nay,” Silene told her, looking around at the carved wooden archways, and the well-lit