an error her decision was.”
“They say the MacPherson stronghold is impenetrable,” the priest said. “How are we going to get in if they are inside?”
“I have some surprises under my belt. A hellcat, fer whom the captain isna prepared. She guarantees she can capture him fer me. We just have to get her to Invergarry.”
“And her name?” the priest asked.
“Ah, that is my concern. Ye will find oot soon enough. I trust no one.”
“Not even me?” Alphonsus asked him, looking insulted.
“Especially not ye,” John told him, not giving a damn what the priest thought of him.
Chapter Twenty
She would be Galeren’s wife in two days. Time could not pass quickly enough, though Galeren’s kin kept Silene busy between her prayers, which Father Timothy told her could be shortened, now that she was no longer to be a nun, to however many times a day she wanted to say them. She found herself saying the ritualistic, structured prayers less and just speaking to God the way she would Father Timothy, more. She was happier at the stronghold than she could ever remember being.
With so many relatives, she didn’t see Galeren as much as she would have liked.
She wooed him by baking hot apple and pumpkin pies. She darned all of the clothes his cousins, Adela and Geva, found for her in his room that needed repair. She hadn’t minded sewing up holes in his hose, fixing tattered hems on his léines or coats. It really was nothing, but he smiled when he saw everything piled neatly on his bed and listened while she and Elysande told him how much she had done.
“Ye have my sincerest thanks, my love,” he had said and then asked Elysande to leave. Of course, his cousin refused his request.
Pity. Silene wanted time alone with him. She sighed now thinking about it. They sat in the dining hall for the last meal of the day. She stared at him while he ate and laughed with his family and his friends.
She was thankful to be dining with the men. Thankful her feeling that she would never dine with them again had been wrong. Were they all wrong? Did she rely too much on them? What did it matter? She was here, in his stronghold, protected as he’d promised.
“How is Daffodil?” she asked when his gaze slipped to hers as if he could feel her watching. His smile deepened.
“Loud.” He laughed softly. “At night. Until I put her with me in my bed.”
Silene wished he was putting her into his bed. She didn’t blame the cat.
“I couldna bring her,” he continued, “so she could walk my kin’s supper table and try to eat from everyone’s plates.”
Silene nodded and laughed, “Although I do not believe your mother would mind.” She sobered a moment later. “I miss the children.”
“Aye, as do I,” he agreed, quieting.
“Galeren,” she said, taking on a somber tone, “I am happy you brought me here, but if not for me, you would not be here. You would be at Dundonald with my uncle’s children, teaching them to be good, honorable adults.”
“They are not mine, lass, though I wish they were.”
“I will give you children,” she promised.
“Aye.” His smile returned. “As many of our own that we can stand makin’.”
She felt her face go flush. She smiled and looked away. Many children—here with him. Her heart flipped at the thought.
“Captain,” she said softly. “Perhaps after supper you would not mind taking a walk with me.”
His smile warmed her heart and other hidden parts of her. His gaze softened and glimmered with affection. “I wouldna mind.”
She nodded. She’d been embarrassed at first to seek out time with him, but she saw Braya smile at her from her seat beyond Lionell. The women here were strong and bold and feminine. They admired strength in each other. They would not think her odd for being bold.
Galeren had tried to see her a number of times, but their meetings never lasted overly long before someone found them and pulled her away.
He’d been patient, understanding that his “kin” wanted to get to know her. But she could see the longing in his gaze for her. Tonight, she wanted to give him that time back. If he wanted to kiss her, she would allow it. She might even kiss him first. She smiled thinking of it.
His dimple deepened across the table.
“Can ye both stop tryin’ to make me ill?” Lionell drawled and swept his mane of hair off his face. Having only one hand made