“It doesna matter whether I worry or not. ’Twill still be ye doin’ it all even when we are all old.”
They were still. Even Margaret, who now leaned her elbow on Galeren’s shoulder, did not speak or move.
Galeren didn’t want to be here that long. He missed his kin. His nephews and nieces knew him less than the steward’s children. But he would not mention home to Alex or Margaret. He knew the steward’s wife and bairns loved him. His garrison and Dundonald’s tenants loved him. They would not want to see him go.
“Even then, my lord,” Galeren told him, “’twould not be any concern of yers.”
“Ye are my friend,” the boy insisted.
Galeren stood up and put his hand on the lad’s shoulders. “Ye are loyal. Ye would be welcome among my soldiers.”
“I would rather serve ye than any man I know.”
Galeren’s heart swelled and his eyes burned. Here was a lad of nine summers earnestly pledging his life to him.
“I am honored, my lord.”
“And I want to come to Invergarry one day and meet yer father.”
Galeren’s smile widened and he bowed.
John and Matilda’s bairns were intelligent and easy to mold with encouraging words. He would have been proud to call any one of them his own.
Alex was an exceptional child. He could often be found alone, playing or thinking—or obviously noticing the captain of the garrison’s workload.
“Aye,” Galeren told him. “Ye will meet him but, fer today, ye will play.”
“I miss the kittens,” Margaret said before long.
“Do ye wish to go see them?” Galeren asked.
“Aye!” both children squealed and jumped up and down.
Annabelle didn’t live too far away and, soon, Galeren found himself watching the children play with the kittens.
“D’ye know which one ye want?” he whispered to Margaret.
She nodded and picked out a little orange kitten with large, blue-green eyes.
Galeren was disgusted with himself that a kitten reminded him of Silene.
When it came time to leave, “Daffodil” came with them.
“She will live with me until I can think of what to tell yer mother.”
The children didn’t care what rules he put into place. They would abide by them. They would feed the kitten and clean up after it when they took it home. They would play with it and keep it with them when he asked.
When they stepped into the great hall, Galeren was not surprised that no one raised an eyebrow when they saw the children with him. They walked through the hall without a nurse or teacher calling after them. No one would expect the steward’s bairns to be left alone. He found Louise, the steward’s servant. “Take them to their mother. I will send fer them shortly.”
“Aye, Captain, but where is Gwen, their nurse, or Mr. Darby, their teacher?”
“I am aboot to find oot.”
With Daffodil cupped in the palm of his hand, he left them and made his way to their teacher’s room. When he reached the door, he knocked with the other hand.
“Captain,” the teacher said, opening the door. He was not dead. Pity for him because that would have been the only acceptable reason to leave the children alone for the day.
Galeren heard a sound in the hall and turned to see Silene leaving her room. She had to pass him to get to the great hall, if that was where she was going.