Chapter Four #3
He seated her between himself and Agnes, with Cuthbert tucked away at the end of their table.
Glass of wine in hand, Lachlan remained standing and addressed his clan in Gaelic.
Helene understood not a word of it. When he spoke his auntie and cousins’ names, they became the centre of attention, with warm smiles and respectful nods directed at each one of them.
He continued speaking in Gaelic and then suddenly paused.
Helene glanced up to see his eyes upon her.
The words Lady Helene Beckett passed his lips with what sounded like all manner of kindness and respect, and there was a halting intensity in his eyes.
Something in their momentary connection struck her, something such as she could not describe, yet it felt not at all unpleasant.
She was the first to break from their gaze to see all eyes were now upon her. Lachlan continued in his native tongue. Helene’s sense of disquiet fell away when drinking vessels were raised and smiling faces resoundingly echoed his last word.
To her left, Agnes laughed and said, ‘No need to look so ill at ease. Lachlan has welcomed my mother, Cuthbert, and me home to Drumocher.’ She giggled, winked, and leaned closer to Helene to whisper, ‘He welcomed you too, speaking very highly of the beautiful Lady Helene Beckett. Now the feast begins.’ She raised her glass. ‘Slàinte!’
Beautiful? A wasted compliment paid many times over in her lifetime. She cared not for flattery coming from the mouths of ingenuine admirers incapable of seeing past her physical attributes and dowry.
Had Agnes not secretly interpreted what Lachlan said, she’d never have known. Beautiful. Why say it at all? Coming from a man who had no selfish agenda or reason to flatter her, it left Helene in a state of quandary.
She turned to Lachlan beside her. ‘Thank you for welcoming me into your home.’
He nodded and raised his glass. ‘Slàinte mhath! Good health.’
Helene clumsily repeated the toast and sipped her wine. No sooner did she set it down than a servant refilled it. A procession of servants placed platters of food on their table and those of the clan.
‘Please.’ Lachlan gestured to the food. ‘Eat.’
Her stomach rumbled in response to breathing in mouth-watering scents of rich, succulent meat, roasted vegetables, and freshly baked bread. She helped herself to the tantalising fare.
‘This meat,’ she said, chewing and savouring the flavour. ‘What is it?’
His gaze settled on her lower lip. She held still when tentatively he raised his hand, met her gaze, then refocused on whatever it was to have drawn his interest. With one thumb he wiped her chin, slow and gentle.
Helene’s tongue darted out to lick what must be the meat’s juice dripping from her lip.
In so doing, the tip of her tongue flicked the laird’s thumb when he brushed it over her mouth.
She jerked back, sensitive to the tingle of his touch.
In an instant their eyes met, leaving Helene at a loss to know what to do or say.
‘Venison,’ he replied, tasting the juice on his thumb. ‘Red, and roe deer.’
Helene averted her gaze and broke off a chunk of bread. She took a moment to settle her nerves. ‘They roam your estate?’
‘Aye. On moorland, woodland, and right up to the mountain tops.’
‘Will I have the opportunity to see one?’ She popped the bread in her mouth while preparing a forkful of vegetables.
‘I hope so. ’Tis an unforgettable encounter when ye do.’
‘Why?’ Courage returned and she looked him in the eye. She hoped not to appear rattled by what had just passed between them.
‘Red deer are majestic and make for an impressive wildlife spectacle, while roe deer’—he paused and ran his eyes over her face—‘are striking and delicate.’
Helene swallowed to moisten the sudden dryness in her throat. ‘Do either one of them have any natural predators?’
He glanced over her head in Cuthbert’s direction. ‘Nae, save for the men who hunt them.’
Helene sought to change the subject and so gestured to his empty plate. ‘You’ve not eaten anything. Not hungry?’
‘Famished.’ He took a sip of wine before piling his plate with food.
‘Are there poachers on your land?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘And the penalty if caught?’
‘Depends on whether they are poaching for money or their pot. ’Tis in their interest as well as mine not to make an unnecessary kill.’
Guilt pressed upon Helene’s shoulders. She was no better than the poachers, feeding off her host to line her coffers. What punishment would the laird deal her if he learned the truth behind her visit?
‘Speaking of predators.’ He stabbed a chunk of meat.
The action startled Helene. ‘Yes?’
‘Danger and treachery in the Highlands are nae different to the subtleties of London’s society, courts, and ballrooms. One must know when to voice an opinion or remain tactfully quiet. Which path to tread and with whom. Do ye understand?’
‘Precisely.’
‘Then ye’d be wise to do as I say in all manner of things. Ye have my protection and that of my clansmen, but if ye were to wander and walk alone outside of Drumocher, I cannae guarantee yer safety.’
‘Goodness! Whatever must you think of me? The only place I wander alone are the corridors and gardens of my father’s estate.’
‘Then use Drumocher as ye would yer father’s home. Ye’re free to explore it as ye wish. Wander outside its walls, alone, and ye risk all kinds of danger. The Highlands, like London, has its dark side.’
‘Such as?’
‘Ruthless men who’d do ye all manner of harm.
Ye’re a woman and a Sassenach. A prime kidnapping target for those who support the Jacobite cause.
Then there are those who trespass on my clan lands for reasons of being pursued by the law, or perhaps they filch from my streams and woodlands or simply wish to provoke a skirmish. ’
‘I see. Thank you for the warning.’
‘One more cautionary word.’ He ran a hand over his chin and wore the expression of a man deep in thought.
‘What is it?’ Helene prompted.
He leaned in close to Helene and quietly said, ‘My cousin.’
‘Agnes?’
‘Nae. Cuthbert. Be wary if left alone in his company. His reputation is such that—’
‘I’m well aware of his reputation. And yours, Lachlan MacLanoch.’
With his face only inches from hers, Helene seized the opportunity to court triflingly with him and did her best to form a seductive smile. ‘Am I to be wary if left alone with you?’
A muscle ticked along his jaw. ‘I promised yer father ye’d come to nae harm while in my care. I’m a man of my word, despite what ye might think of me.’
‘I didn’t voice my opinion of you, only that your reputation, like Cuthbert’s, is such that—’
‘Yer innocence is safe with me, Helene. Of that ye can be sure.’
He did not pull back but rather held her gaze as if daring her to dispute his word and tear down his honourable wall.
His forthright declaration induced in Helene feelings of rejection. Nonetheless, it made her determined to succeed in the art of seduction. All walls were penetrable. It was simply a matter of locating its weakest point.
‘I shall heed your warnings to the best of my ability. Should I falter in any way, then I trust you’ll be there, as you were this afternoon, to catch my fall.’