He’d asked his men to guard her and none hesitated to be about the task. They liked her. He had to watch them and make certain none of them cared for her in an inappropriate way. It wasn’t impossible for she was mesmerizing, an extraordinary feast for his eyes. Whenever she stepped out into the light of day, the world came alive with color.
Of course, he could control his urges. Could Mac or Morgann, Will or Padrig? In truth, he had no idea what Padrig thought of her.
Watching her, he knew to whom her heart belonged.
She finished her prayers and stood up. When she saw him…them, she smiled and went to them.
“Captain, how is your grandsire?”
“Asleep,” he told her, doing his best not to smile like a fool. “Come, ’tis getting’ late.’
They stayed the night and Galeren spent more time with his grandparents.
“You fancy the orange-haired lass,” his grandsire remarked. He’d awakened and was even able to keep some soup down.
“No, Grandsire. The high steward wishes me to be betrothed to another.” He hadn’t thought of Cecilia Birchet in days. He closed his eyes and didn’t see his grandsire’s sharp eyes on him.
“Do you love this woman the high steward wishes you to wed?”
“No. But even if I refused him, Silene is goin’ to be a nun.
“She is not one yet. There is still time.”
“No,” Galeren told him gently. “I am no lout to try and tempt her from the Lord.”
His grandfather’s smile faded. “You are very much like your father.” He sighed and then smiled again. “I like the one with the red hair.”
“Silene,” Galeren reminded him gently, patiently.
“Aye. She has a sweet face and a kind demeanor.”
Sweet face? She was glorious to behold, like seeing a flame come to life, like wanting to dive into the deep, blue-green oceans of her eyes. The delicate cut of her jaw carved by a master sculptor.
“I need to get her to John and find a priest fer confession.”
His grandsire laughed. “’Tis good to see you, lad.”
“I will return to see ye again when I return her to St. Patrice’s.”
“Why not let someone else do it?” his grandsire put to him. “I’m sure the high steward has other capable leaders.”
Galeren shook his head. “I wouldna trust anyone else to guard her the way I can. She was injured once already because I wasna watchin’ her.”
“What happened?”
He told Rowley about the men who had tried to abduct her and how he’d killed the man who’d hurt her.
“Good,” his grandsire said. His eyes were lit with fire. Galeren could almost taste the ash. Rowley Hetherington had been a formidable, fearsome man in his younger days. But when he came home from a raid, he had a wife he loved at home waiting for him.
Galeren thought he might like that, too. He’d never had thoughts like these before. He never thought he’d live long enough to have a wife and children to love. If he were to ever marry…
“Son.” His grandsire covered Galeren’s hand with his and pulled him closer. “You should take her back to the priory now. She is no match for schemes of devious men. She will die.”
Galeren blinked his eyes. “Grandsire, how could she die? What are ye sayin’? That I should disobey my orders from the high steward?”
“What?” His grandsire gave him a blank look. Then he said, “I’m sleepy. Bring your grandmother to me.”
Galeren stared at him and gave his heart a moment to slow down. His grandsire must have fallen asleep for a moment and spoke his dream. “I will bring her to ye.” He leaned to kiss his grandfather’s forehead and then left the room.