Forbidden Heart (Hearts of the Highlands #6) - Paula Quinn Page 0,89
and Will stepped inside.
A swirl of dried leaves blew into the house.
“Where is Geva?” he asked.
Will blinked his eyes and shrugged. “I havena seen her since this morn.”
Relief flooded through Galeren. He let himself smile but Will narrowed his eyes on him.
“Ye thought I was with her. Ye were comin’ to save her from me. Aye? I know that look in yer eyes, Cap.”
“She is my cousin. One of the youngest.”
He did his best not to insult Will. “Ye are not known fer stayin’ by the side of one lass, old friend.”
“Of course,” Will said and smiled but did not look at him. “I must go.”
Galeren watched him leave and cursed under his breath. He would think of what to say later. He wasn’t used to being cautious with his men’s sensibilities—especially Will’s.
He hadn’t left the house and was drawn as if on an unseen tether to the door of his brother Lucan’s room. He stared at the wood for a moment, as if it were the biggest obstacle in his life.
He breathed, and then he knocked. After an eternal moment, he heard her approach the door. It opened.
He couldn’t wait to see her face.
Elysande appeared on the other side. “Oh, Galeren, Silene canna see ye now. She is deep in prayer.”
He wanted just a glance. It was all right. He could wait until tomorrow to see her.
He spied a glimpse of purple and heard his aunts and other female voices. “She must be verra deep in them not to be distracted by all of ye.” He smiled and went back to the practice field.
His friends were all gone, eager to share the beds of village maidens. He unsheathed his sword and swung it in the air. The long metal blade danced in the sunlight, cutting through shafts of light. He balanced himself with his other arm—something Lionell had to learn in an entirely new way.
Galeren braced his legs and brought his blade down again. This time, metal struck metal.
Someone was there.
His father’s blade parried then struck Galeren’s edge hard enough to rattle his bones a little. He tilted up one corner of his mouth and brought his sword down in a chopping blow. He knew how his father fought, like a breeze suddenly changing direction. Galeren had to be quick or—his father swept the flat end of his blade across the backs of his knees and threw him off balance. By the time he rose off his arse, his uncle, Cain, was upon him. He came in like a force beyond whatever one can think or imagine. His sword struck Galeren’s three times before Galeren could even parry. His father circled the two of them like a feline predator and came closer to the fighting. Soon, Torin would strike and his uncle would take an instant to rest his arm.
They had done it before all throughout Galeren’s training, preparing him for the world outside the gates.
He parried his father’s strike to his legs and struck his uncle’s back with the flat of his blade.
They retreated but only to circle him, joined by his uncle, Nicholas, the youngest of the three brothers and least barbaric among them.
“Let us see if you were paying attention, Nephew,” Uncle Nicholas challenged softly and struck from the right. Cain came from the left, his father, behind him.
He had been paying attention all those years. It was what kept him alive on the battlefield. He watched and listened and swung. A parry to the left, a jab to the right, swing around back and remove a head.
Of course, this was practice. He wouldn’t actually take a head—but he could come close if they weren’t careful.
He fought them for an hour with his cousin, Tristan, and his other cousins joining his side.
In the end, the younger men saw victory. Galeren was glad. For if his father and uncles had won, they would feel as if they had failed the lads and would begin the strict training again.
No one wanted that.
He looked toward the manor house…her window. She was there, watching him. She lifted her palm and smiled at him. His heart accelerated. He lifted his palm in response.
His father and uncles all came around him and ushered him away with advice about his wedding night.
“Bein’ chaste fer six years has its disadvantages,” his father supplied while they walked to the manor house. “Ye will be done before ye begin.”
“Aye,” his uncles agreed. “Ye need to go spend some time alone—”