“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 the second landing, the third if there were cellars. Silene didn’t know much about the castle.
“Ye have the captain’s pledge,” the serving girl remarked as they walked. “And his eye.”
“We are friends,” Silene was quick to tell her.
“He is verra handsome. Do ye not agree?”
“I’m not blind,” Silene muttered. Was everyone in Dundonald jealous of the captain?
The serving girl smiled and continued leading her away.
When they reached a large, wooden door, Louise gave it a good knock. A woman called out from within.
“Come.”
Louise held open the door and made a path for Silene to enter.
With her pale blonde tresses plaited and pinned up off her long neck and eyes as blue as a clear summer sky, Matilda was beautiful.
“Greetings, my lady,” Silene said boldly, stepping into the room.
Matilda stood from her place at the bedside. “Who are ye?”
Before Silene had a chance to answer, Matilda gasped, recognizing her. “Silene? Silene, is it ye? Oh! ’Tis! Look at ye with all yer beautiful fiery tresses chopped off!”
Silene smiled and took a step toward her for an embrace. She was glad Matilda remembered her. She was only a few years older than Silene, and though Silene had only been here once, four years ago, and for only four days, Matilda had been kind to her, and they became friends.
“We expected ye yesterday,” Matilda said, coming out of their embrace.
Silene nodded. “We were attacked. We also paid a visit to the captain’s ailing grandsire in Hethersgill, and my prayers—”
“Yer group was attacked?” Matilda gasped. “Was anyone hurt?”
Silene told her what happened. Her uncle’s wife seemed especially relieved to hear that the captain was unharmed.
“Ye traveled all the way to the central Marches, and then what? Ye slept in their home with Captain MacPherson?”