Highland Knight of Rapture (Highland Dynasty Book 4) (3 page)

BOOK: Highland Knight of Rapture (Highland Dynasty Book 4)
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“Thank you, Hamish.” Helen smiled. “I’ll ensure the ledgers reflect your payment.”

Peter put the eggs on the bench against the wall where they’d be less likely to be broken. “Mayhap I should set the boys to turning the spit on the morrow. That stag will keep us fed for days.”

Helen watched the crofter disappear through the passageway. “The meat will be better after it cures for a bit and Sir Aleck will appreciate a meal of roasted venison upon his return.”

Peter looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Aaaaye.”

“You disagree?”

He scratched his greying head of hair. “Your affability never ceases to amaze me, m’lady.”

Helen knew what he meant. She’d always catered to Aleck’s whims and, though he didn’t show appreciation for her efforts, he expected her to run the keep and see to his comfort. And she took pride in doing it well. At least that was one thing her husband was unable to take from her. She picked up the ledger. “I’ll order the flour and oats and see to it everything else runs smoothly at Mingary.” She turned and faced him. “Let no one say I’ve been remiss in my duties.”

“Nary a soul would ever think that, m’lady. You’re the one who keeps the castle in order.”

She hesitated. It was pleasant to receive a compliment. A small patter of pride swelled in Helen’s breast. “Thank you. ’Tis ever so nice so hear you say.”

Chapter Three

 

 

Helen sat in the rocking chair in the nursery and watched Maggie wrap her tiny hand around her pointer finger. “I cannot believe she is already five weeks of age.”

Having sent the nursemaid for a moment of respite, Glenda folded linen swaddling clothes near the window embrasure. “And I cannot believe how much she’s grown already, m’lady.”

“’Tis a pity Sir Aleck will not visit the nursery.” Helen sighed. “I do think even he would agree Maggie’s a healthy lass, and she’s so bonny, he’d truly fall in love with her.”

The chambermaid frowned over her shoulder. “He’s missing an opportunity to be a part of the greatest miracle of life, if I may be so bold as to say.”

Helen’s throat closed. But then Maggie cooed and grinned, snatching the lady from her sudden melancholy. “Oh my, look at that. She just made her first smile.”

Glenda hurried across the floor. “Honestly? I must see.”

“Have you another smile for me, lass.” Helen cooed and smacked her lips. “Come now, show us your wee grin.”

Maggie didn’t disappoint and squealed with an even larger smile. Glenda clasped her hands together. “Oh, m’lady. Doubtless, she will turn the heads of every laddie in the Highlands.”

Helen cringed. “Let us delight in her infancy for a time. I hope not to see any lusty lads for twenty years or more.”

“If I know Sir Aleck.” Glenda shook her finger. “He’ll marry her off as soon as her menses show.”

For a moment, Helen could scarcely draw in a breath.
Not if I have any say in the matter
. She looked into her daughter’s innocent eyes. “We shall see. Perhaps my next child will be a lad and Maggie will find favor with Sir Aleck at last.”

A cynical sounding snort rumbled from the chambermaid’s nose. “Do not count on the chieftain having a change of heart.”

“Glenda,” Helen chided.

The outspoken servant dipped her head in a bow. “Apologies, m’lady. I’ve never known anyone as hopeful as you. I’d wager most noblewomen would have given up by now and returned to their kin.”

Helen wouldn’t admit that she’d considered it. She’d even gone so far as to wonder if her brother, John, now Bishop of the Isles, would help her approach the Pope to enquire about an annulment. But such action would bring disgrace to the Campbells of Glenorchy. She had put the ghastly notion out of her mind and had tried not to think on it again.

The ram’s horn sounded with three consecutive blasts. Glenda hastened to the window as voices rose from the courtyard. Helen stood and carried Maggie to the embrasure and squeezed in beside the chambermaid.

Fortunately, the nursery was on the fourth floor—an advantageous position from which to view the wall-walk surrounding the keep. Built of stone, Mingary was a sturdy fortress, sitting proudly atop a rocky promontory. The castle presided over the region of Ardnamurchan, flanked by steep cliffs on three sides.

Helen peered down into the courtyard and then out over the sea. Her smile faded. Alas, her time of peace had come to an end.

“It looks as if the chieftain has returned,” said Glenda. “And there’s an additional galley in his wake.”

“Look at that.” Helen leaned further toward the window. “King’s men?”

“You’d ken better than I, m’lady.”

Though Helen couldn’t make out the design on the pennant flapping in the wind, it was white and blue with no likeness to the king’s yellow and orange colors. “Whoever they are, I suspect they’ll be hungry.” Peeking through the heavy clouds, the sun indicated the hour was late morning. She must make haste.

Glenda reached for Maggie. “I’ll stay with the bairn until Sarah returns. Go meet the ships, m’lady.”

Helen smiled. “Thank you.” She quickly pattered through the stone passageway and down the stairwell. The great hall was empty, all except for Robert, the cruel guard who always seemed to be sharpening his weapons. With a scrape against the whetstone, he looked up and offered a yellow-toothed sneer. “M’lady,” he said without the least bit of reverence in his voice.

Helen tried not to shudder, nodded, and hastened straight for the kitchens. Stepping inside the enormous chamber, the smell of onions and turnips filled the air. “Peter! Sir Aleck has returned with an additional galley in his wake and they’ve arrived just in time for their nooning.”

The cook turned, four plucked chickens suspended from his fingers. “I heard the ram’s horn.”

She hastened across the flagstone floor. “What can we feed them?”

He tossed the fowl on the butchers block and snatched a cleaver. “I’ll add these to the pottage I’ve set over the fire.”

Helen regarded the raw meat—hardly enough for an army. But at least the enormous cast iron pot suspended above the hearth was boiling. “We’ll need more than a few hens.”

Peter attacked the chickens with violent hacks of the blade. “The maids are plucking a half-dozen more. I’ve bread and oatcakes aplenty, and cheese.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “Sir Aleck won’t like being met with such simple fare, but it will have to do at short notice.” Helen pointed toward the cellar. “Set the lads to turning the venison on the spit.”

The cook didn’t look up from his work. “There’s hardly enough time for that, m’lady.”

Helen affected one of her pointed stares. “If they start now, the beast will be roasted through by the evening meal, and your chieftain will be happy.”

Peter stopped chopping. “Right. I hadn’t thought past the midday meal. I’ll fetch the young fellas as soon as I’ve added these to the pottage.”

“Very well.” Helen smoothed her hand over her veil to ensure no tresses were loose. Then she pinched her cheeks and straightened her skirts and apron. Her appearance would have to do—not that Aleck ever noticed when she made an effort to look her best.

The incident in the great hall with Mary had her hackles up for the past month. Helen never considered herself unattractive, but it surely seemed as if she’d contracted a case of leprosy where Aleck was concerned. He made no secret of the fact he preferred larger women and Mary certainly fit that bill. The widow had enormous bosoms and a full body to support them. Forever seeing the logical side of things, Helen supposed Aleck’s attraction to Mary made sense. After all, he was a large man.

Hastening ahead, she berated herself for always rationalizing everything. Blessed be the saints, Helen was Aleck MacIain’s wife, and now that he had returned, she would do everything in her power to win his favor. She would never give up. He would visit her bed, and by God’s grace, she would conceive immediately and bear a son. Then everything at Mingary would be pleasant.

Perhaps for the first time since she’d married him, Aleck would shed his gruff demeanor and be agreeable as well.
There’s always hope
.

As she made her way to the sea gate, men and women followed, an excited hum rising from the crowd. Aleck’s galley had sailed ashore and the guards were heaving her onto the beach. The boat behind was following suit, the crewmen hopping into the shallows, tugging the ship’s ropes. None of the visiting Highlanders sported a royal surcoat, but they all wore hauberks and bits of armor. By the swords strapped to their backs, Helen had no doubt they were fighting men.

Wringing her hands, she watched Aleck jump over his galley’s bow onto dry land—he’d stood at the stern of the boat while his men heaved it ashore.

With squeals grating in Helen’s ears, Mary dashed up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Aleck kissed the widow on the mouth. It wasn’t a peck. It was a vulgar clamping of the lips, their bodies crushed together in an obscene embrace.

Mortified, Helen covered her eyes, fearing they’d never pull away.

Her cheeks burned. Her throat ached like someone had taken a rasp to it.
There go my hopes of winning his favor. I wish I never had to speak to him again
.

Aleck slung his arm around Mary’s waist and led her forward—straight toward Helen. She blinked. If only she could dash around the corner of the keep and hide. Helen glanced over her shoulder and considered a swift getaway. Blast, she would look the fool if she ran. Standing tall, she faced Aleck, unable to affect her usual serene smile.

But her husband grinned broadly. “You’ve forty hungry men to feed, wife,” he bellowed. “You’d best go see to the preparations.”

Mary leaned into him, grinning as if she were drunk. Helen had heard about whores in alehouses—Mary would blend right in to such a disreputable establishment.

Swallowing her urge to issue a dour retort, Helen refused to allow Aleck’s behavior to degrade her in front of the clansmen. She regarded her husband with feigned indifference. “Who are your guests, m’laird?”

“The Chieftain of Clan Gregor and his band of upstarts. They’ll be with us for a time.” Aleck threw his thumb over his shoulder with a smirk. “King’s business.”

“The MacGregors? They are close allies with the Campbells of Glenorchy. It will be a pleasure to see to their comfort.” Helen bowed her head. “Peter’s making preparations for your nooning. I’ll greet our guests and then oversee the kitchens.”

Aleck didn’t appear to have heard a word she’d said. He proceeded into the courtyard with that disgraceful widow still on his arm.

Helen cleared her throat and looked to the shore. She would act the proper lady. Never in her life would she demean herself by showing her revulsion at Aleck’s behavior or letting on that it bothered her. Many great men took lemans. She would find a way to accept it.

With her resolution, she clasped her hands and focused on a sturdy man approaching from the stony shore. Water dripped from the quilted arming doublet beneath his hauberk and streamed down his well-muscled calves.

Recognition sparked deep in her stomach. Then her heart nearly thumped out of her chest.

To stifle her gasp, Helen clapped a hand over her mouth. When Aleck had referred to the Chieftain of Clan Gregor, she fully expected to see Sir Ewen MacGregor, but it wasn’t the old grey-haired man who approached. The tall, rugged warrior was Sir Eoin—Ewen’s son.

She took in yet another sharp inhale.

The tallest man in his retinue, Eoin hadn’t changed in the past five years. If anything, his shoulders had grown broader. Flanked by his men, his muscular legs flexed with each step.

But to gaze upon a dear old friend was almost like traveling back in time—before she’d ever seen Mingary Castle or knew that Aleck MacIain existed.

Eoin wore his chestnut hair cropped short, a new and attractive fashion for him. His bold eyebrows hadn’t changed. They formed two separate but angular lines over vivid sky-blue eyes. A straight nose, full lips—but the bottom lip was fuller. He even still had the wee scar on his chin.

A hundred childhood memories came flooding back when he grinned. Oh, how she’d enjoyed Eoin when they were children.
What a carefree time of life that had been
.

“M’lady.” He stepped up and grasped her hand.

She hadn’t remembered that he was so imposing or that he smelled like a vat of simmering cloves. “Sir Eoin.” She maintained a properly serene smile. “What a pleasure to see you.”

He bowed and pressed his lips to the back of her hand, then straightened and offered a controlled grin with a brotherly glint in his eye. “The pleasure is mine.”

She clapped her fingers to her chest to quell her hammering heart. “When Sir Aleck mentioned the Chieftain of Clan Gregor was here, I expected to see your father.” Goodness, it had been a long time since she’d seen anyone from her past.

He knit his brows. “Da’s been gone three years now. I’m surprised word hasn’t reached you.”

Helen rubbed the back of her hand, wiping away the tingling sensation that remained from Eoin’s brief peck. “Forgive me. Tucked away on this peninsula, I rarely ever receive news.”

Eoin proceeded forward. “Not to worry, m’lady.”

Helen followed, moving her feet quickly to keep up with his broad stride. “Aleck mentioned you would be staying for a time.”

He glanced sideways at her, a dark eyebrow arching. “Aye, to keep an eye on the MacDonald uprising to the north.”

“Oh no, how grave.” She hadn’t heard about the uprising either. “I hope ’tis nothing too serious.”

“Me as well, m’lady, I’d hate to pose a burden to you and Sir Aleck and be forced to remain past my welcome.”

“You could never be a burden.” She raised her voice to be heard as they passed the blacksmith’s shack. “It will be a pleasant change to have the MacGregors at Mingary. Besides, you must fill me in on all that’s happened in the past five years.”

His gaze trailed up the stone walls to the wall-walk—as if he had a great many things on his mind. “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell.”

She chuckled. “I doubt that.”

Stopping beside the entrance to the kitchens, Helen beckoned a guard. “Mr. Keith, please show Sir Eoin to the guest chamber.” She turned to the MacGregor Chieftain. “Your men are welcome to the hay loft. Nearly all the winter stores are gone. There’s plenty of space for them to bed down.”

“My thanks.” He gave her a wink. “You needn’t worry about us. My men can bed down anywhere they find a bit of straw.”

BOOK: Highland Knight of Rapture (Highland Dynasty Book 4)
10.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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