Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Frync has yet to return with a response?” Helena asked over breakfast.
“Nothin’ yet,” Michael confirmed.
Two days had passed in the blink of an eye. Frync had ridden out promptly the morning after the ceremony with the letter to her father. Laird MacPherson should have received it by now if the messenger had successfully made the trip without running into trouble.
Alexander had broken his fast that morning with Helena, Alice, and Michael in the main hall. He watched the interaction between his sister and his new wife warily. The two had become fast friends. He was not sure how he felt about that.
They were not even halfway through their meal when a stable boy ran inside, exclaiming that a foal had been born to Alice’s favorite mare and Alexander’s stallion. The women promptly excused themselves to see the foal, Helena’s strange orange cat following behind them.
“Finally, some peace and quiet without their cacklin’. I swear they’re both related to banshees. How do they never tire of talkin’?” Michael complained once the women were out of earshot.
“I cannae understand how they continue to find things to talk about. Alice showed her the entirety of the castle, the food stores, and the grounds. She even introduced her to the staff. Why does she continue to coddle the lass?” Alexander grumbled.
“Aye. ‘Tis unsettlin’ that the lass needs such assistance. Are we certain that she is right in the head? Though it’s too late to do anythin’ about it now—ye married her.” Michael shook his head before taking another bite of bread.
“Aye, that I did.” Alexander rubbed his broad hand down his face in frustration. He had not considered all the ramifications of marrying Helena.
When Alice had informed him that Helena had no idea how to properly run a castle on a daily basis because it was not considered a woman’s responsibility in Clan MacPherson, his jaw had nearly hit the floor.
If Helena did not assume the responsibilities of the lady of the castle, his clan would see it as a great weakness. Many would question his choice to marry her, and the concerns would roll on from there.
She needs to learn quickly. She cannae depend on Alice forever.
“Perhaps ye need to cut the cord between the two of them?” Michael suggested. “Do ye nae need to go to the village today? Take the lass with ye.”
“Aye,” Alexander grumbled.
Dragging the quiet lass with him had not been in his plans, but Michael was right. Separating the two women for a few hours may be helpful.
“Why dinnae the MacPhersons teach their women to run the castle anyway? What sense does it make? Bein’ forced to leave more men behind in times of war?” Michael scoffed, thinking out loud more than anticipating an actual answer.
“I dinnae ken, but it is a stark disadvantage if ye ask me,” Alexander replied, ready to drop the subject altogether. The more he thought about it, the more it irked him. “Perhaps Laird MacPherson is more afraid of losin’ control over the clan than we thought.”
Helena felt uneasy as she walked back to the main hall from the stables, Mags hot on heels. A mare had foaled that morning, and she had been eager to see the newborn.
The stares of the people she passed by were wary as she wandered the castle, though. No one spoke to her, besides Alice and Margaret. It bothered her that the other women in residence were so cold to her, but she tried to pay it no mind.
I cannae say I blame them. If Broderic had married Alice before I had met her, I would have felt the same way.
“Greetings,” she said as she passed another maid carrying a bucket.
The girl just kept her gaze averted and nodded slightly as she scurried away.
The men were respectful but brisk when they spoke to her. The women, however, would not speak to her at all.
Sighing, Helena climbed up the stairs and entered the main hall. Alexander and Michael were sitting at the end of the long table, and she moved to sit beside her husband.
Even he was acting strangely. For all his whispered promises of consummation, he had yet to act on them. Twice now he had come to their room at the end of the evening and simply gone to sleep.
The first night, she had not slept, fearing he would pounce on her like some great lion in the night while she slumbered.
Last night, she had been too deprived of sleep to care and had simply curled up beside him and slept. His body and Mags’s had provided ample warmth in the cool spring night.
Why am I even worryin’ about this? I should be relieved that he hasnae forced himself on me.
But the more glimpses she got of his body each day, the more her curiosity grew. She wondered what it would be like when they did consummate their marriage. What would he feel like? Would it hurt?
What would yer braither say about ye havin’ such thoughts about the man who murdered him? What would he think of yer marriage?
Alexander leaned over and placed a hand over hers, interrupting her thoughts. She blinked away the fog, shaking her head slightly, and gave him a somewhat wan smile.
“Greetings, Me Laird.” Her voice was cheery and light.
“Greetings, lass. How’s the wee foal?”
“A beautiful, strong filly, Me Laird. Both mare and foal are doin’ just fine.”
“Wonderful. That’s the first foal by me stallion. I’m nae sure what to name her.”
“Would ye like some suggestions? I really like the name Acco.” Her voice vibrated with excitement.
“Did I ask for suggestions, lass?” he asked impatiently as he stared down at his meal.
“I was only tryin’ to help, Me Laird,” Helena replied, rolling her eyes.
“It’s me filly, so I’ll name her. Dinnae ye worry about it.”
“Is she nae ours, Me Laird?” Helena shot back, her eyes narrowing.
There was a long, tense pause before Alexander turned away from her.
“We leave for the village in an hour, lass,” he grunted, rising from his chair and leaving the hall.
She nodded subtly.
Let her duties as the lady of the castle begin. Perhaps the villagers would be more eager to converse with her than those in the keep.
An hour later, she met him in the courtyard.
He was already sitting astride the big bay stallion he favored.
She looked around for a brief moment, realizing there was no other horse saddled and waiting.
The smirk on his face as he offered her his hand was all the answer she needed—he intended for them to ride together. Again.
Wonderful.
With a huff, she stood straighter, walked over to him, and took his hand, allowing him to pull her into the saddle in front of him. She shifted slightly to get comfortable, but her stomach fluttered when she felt his hard body press against her back.
She wanted to feel more.
“Lass, ye are goin’ to have to quit that if ye want this to be a comfortable, nae awkward ride,” he warned, putting a firm hand on her thigh, which forced her to stop rocking from side to side.
It took her a long second—too long, honestly—to realize what he meant as something hard pressed against her backside. His kilt did nothing to hide it either. Looking at him over her shoulder, his hazel eyes shone bright with excitement.
“Oh!” Her eyes widened in alarm. She felt a blush bloom across her face and neck as it always did whenever he was near. “Apologies, I didnae mean to… That is to say, I didnae… ye ken.”
Alexander’s only response was a grunt. Then, he clicked his tongue, urging the horse to take off.
Silence descended on them, leaving her to mull over her thoughts.
Get it together. Even if ye are married to him, ye cannae be attracted to him. After all, he is and always will be the enemy, nay matter what.
Alexander was grateful that they rode the entire way in silence, and he gritted his teeth when Helena’s soft body rubbed against his. The entire ride was torture. His manhood was straining against his kilt, throbbing painfully since he had refrained from touching her the past few nights.
This lass will be the end of me.
They passed through the small village with its stone homes and crowded market. Word spread quickly, and many villagers stood on their doorsteps, whispering quietly as they got their first glimpses of the Laird’s new wife.
They stopped at the healer’s hut, and Alexander dismounted first, taking the opportunity to adjust his kilt to hide his throbbing manhood. He chastised himself inwardly. If he ground his teeth any harder, he feared they might crack.
He helped Helena down from the stallion before leading her inside.
“Welcome, Me Laird, Me Lady.” The older healer smiled warmly, bowing his head. He poured them each a hot cup of tea from the kettle over the hearth.
“I want ye to make and distribute the tonic ye gave everyone last spring,” Alexander instructed.
He put a small, fur-lined sporran on the table, the coins within it clinking slightly.
“I want everyone to be at their best as we enter spring—I have a suspicion we are goin’ to need as many able hands as we can muster,” he added ominously.
He glanced tentatively at Helena, deliberating sharing in front of her.
The previous year, the healer had made a tonic that cured all the men of their sneezing fits. It had made a considerable difference in their ability to fight. It was a bit impossible to sneak up on the enemy when the men were sneezing left and right.
“Aye, Me Laird, as ye wish.” The old man nodded with a touch of apprehension.
Helena wandered onto the front step and took in the small village. It was bustling, with many small shops set up along the main avenue. From the crowd, a young boy emerged, glancing quickly from one person to the next. He looked distraught.
She took a tentative step in his direction as she continued to watch him, her heart leading her movements. When the boy finally spotted her, he ran straight to her, grasping her hand and a handful of her skirt, looking up at her with wild eyes.
“Me kitty—he’s stuck, please help!” He pulled her toward the tree line, and she followed him without a second thought. “I’m too little, I cannae climb the tree. I tried and tried, but fell twice and then came to ask for help.”
Stopping in front of a large Sycamore tree, Helena looked up into the giant branches. Sure enough, about halfway up the massive tree was a small kitten, meowing and pacing.
“See, see!” The boy pointed at it. “He’s too little like me—he cannae get down, and I cannae get up. Can ye get him?”
“I dinnae ken…” Helena hesitated. “That’s a pretty big tree, but I can try.”
She reached for the bottom branch, barely able to reach it with her fingertips. She tried to climb the massive trunk and then hugged it, pulling the hem of her skirt between her teeth so as not to trip.
She made it two steps up the trunk when two large hands grabbed her waist and lowered her back to the ground. Squealing in surprise, she flailed ungracefully, spinning to look up into the very unhappy face of none other than her husband.
“Ye willnae move, ye hear me.” Alexander pointed a finger at her, his voice menacing. “Nae a step until I come back down. Then, we are goin’ to have a wee talk, ye and I.”
He proceeded to climb the tree with little issue, his long, strong arms and legs making it look easy enough. Helena folded her arms across her chest, annoyed that he made it look so easy yet impressed all the same.
Grasping the kitten by the scruff, he tucked it against his chest as he climbed down the tree, jumping the last few feet to the ground.
His boots made a loud thud as he landed.
The boy eagerly reached up for his kitten, not in the least intimidated by the behemoth of a man.
Alexander, to her surprise, gave the child a quick smile as he handed him the kitten and ruffled his hair affectionately.
“Now, go home before yer maither starts worryin’, Torin,” he ordered.
“Thank ye, Me Laird,” the boy, Torin, replied. “Ye too, Me Lady. Thank ye for tryin’.”
With that, he scampered back up the hill toward the village, his kitten in hand.
Helena watched the child go, her heart feeling light and whole at the sight of them so happily reunited.
“Ye”—Alexander advanced on her, pointing a long finger in her face, his voice harsh and angry—“willnae up and disappear like that ever again. Do ye understand me? Ye are me wife, and I will ken where ye are at all times!”