“Captain,” the steward said, “I think ’tis time fer ye to wed Miss Birchet. Do ye not agree?”
“No, my lord, I dinna agree.” He breathed while the men around him gasped and glared at him.
“Then what my daughter says is true,” Lord Birchet’s dark eyes narrowed on him.
Galeren drew his brows together. “What did she tell ye?”
“Captain MacPherson,” Birchet began. “What were you doing with the nun, alone with the steward’s children?”
“Sister Silene happened upon us.” He hated having to explain, and even more that his old friend, John Stewart, was a part of it.
Lord Birchet opened his mouth but Galeren continued silencing him. “Yer daughter isna someone I would choose as my wife.”
“Miss Birchet is renowned for her beauty,” John said as if Galeren didn’t know.
“Beauty fades,” he replied. “And then what is one left with? A monster.”
John’s stare went dark. “We agreed on this, Captain. Why are ye changin’ yer mind now? Tell me if it has to do with—”
“Ye know I dinna love Miss Birchet, my lord. We have had this conversation a hundred times.”
“Why do you not love her?” her father joined in angrily. “Is there someone else preventing it?”
“No, my lord.” Galeren told him, angry for the insinuation. They suspected something. They had no proof. All Cecilia saw was him and Silene laughing.
“I canna love a woman whose interest in herself alone comes before all else.”
“Captain MacPherson,” her father gaped. “You dare insult my daughter?”
Galeren regarded him soberly. “Aye, I dare. Yer daughter is spoiled, ruined fer many men. Me bein’ one of them.”
“What aboot my niece?” the steward asked him. “Is she ruined as well?”
What was this betrayal? Galeren stared at him. Was John willing to disregard their nine-year friendship, the years Galeren had given in Scotland’s service?
“What aboot her?” Galeren asked. “She is to be married to God, and even if she werena, she doesna suit me,” he thought it best to say at present. “I will say this fer the last time, my lord. The novice was under my care. We became friends. We will always be friends. But to imagine what is inside yer heads would surely insult her betrothed—and me.”
Galeren paused for a moment. “Further, the steward will attest that I have taken a vow of chastity fer six years and have kept it. That is why he sent me to retrieve his niece. He knew she would be safe with me. And she was. Now, put an end to yer suspicions aboot her.”
The three men balked at him then looked away. “Nevertheless,” Father Alphonsus said, breaking the silence. “You will wed Cecilia Birchet.”
“Why does this concern ye, Priest?” He didn’t care about the answer. He wasn’t marrying Cecilia. “Why is it so important to ye all that I wed her?”
“I will be king one day,” John said. “Lord Birchet will have an important place at court. He is a longtime friend.”
Not good enough. Galeren shook his head.
“Captain, ye will obey me,” John’s familiar voice raked unfamiliar words across his ear. “Ye are loyal to me and no one else. The day that ye are no longer loyal to me is the day I throw ye oot of Dundonald.”
If this was how it was to be, so be it. Galeren’s dark glare made the other two men back away.
“I have served ye loyally fer many years, John. Would ye dishonor me?”
“Aye. I would.”
Galeren’s blood boiled. “Verra well, I will leave today.”
“I told you, John,” Father Alphonsus said. “’Tis because of your niece.”