Chapter Six #3
Conceited bore. The man was also mad! She and the laird, marriage material? Absurd! She fell in beside him as they continued their stroll along the trail. Was it Cuthbert’s intent to play Cupid? Ridiculous! Helene suppressed another bout of laughter.
Yet it had her thinking. Was there not one lass in the whole of Scotland worthy of marrying the laird of Clan MacLanoch? Perhaps he was the unworthy one and no self-respecting lass would have him. It would explain why the Scottish scoundrel chose to dally with ladies across the border.
Good Lord! Marry the laird. Such an outrageous and unrealistic concept. She’d convinced herself Cuthbert had conceited motives in wanting her to entice and engage Lachlan on a physical level. Now he’d turned her thinking on its head with his talk of wedded bliss between the laird and herself.
In her attempt to understand men, Helene toyed with another idea. Perhaps the cousins had wagered on who would be the last rake standing before being imprisoned in the institution of marriage. Cuthbert’s scheme might well be to have Lachlan ruin Helene, thereby necessitating their forced marriage.
Preposterous!
Lachlan MacLanoch did not strike Helene as a man to be forced into anything, let alone marriage.
Pair that with her disregard for an unblemished reputation, and Cuthbert had a foolhardy plan.
She would never marry, especially not the laird, even if he did make a sincere proposal.
Helene was committed to one person only: Prudence.
Her head ached. Best not try to understand a man’s mind.
She took a deep pine-scented breath and cast her gaze over the silver-surfaced loch to the right of the trail.
It reminded her of a giant mirror, and in its reflection she saw a few patchy cotton clouds.
Waterfowl swam in between the reeds fringing the large body of water.
A woodpecker’s knock echoed from afar, and a red squirrel twitched its tail on a low-hanging branch.
‘I owe you an apology,’ said Cuthbert.
The admission startled Helene. She tripped and Cuthbert caught her arm, preventing her from stumbling forward. She kept silent, though wary of what he had to say as they maintained their steady stroll.
‘Yesterday,’ he began, ‘before you alighted the carriage, I spoke and behaved in such a way as you did not deserve.’
‘Correct.’ Helene rubbed her hand with the memory of how painfully he’d squeezed it. ‘You behaved not as a gentleman, but rather as a brute and a bully.’
Cuthbert gave her a sidelong glance and grimaced. ‘I’m truly sorry. I had not expected Lachlan to be such an arrant prig, or that he’d throw my plans into disarray.’
Plans? Despite her natural curiosity, Helene refrained from asking Cuthbert to explain himself. What she wanted from this business transaction was not his concern. Conversely, she did not wish to know about his plans for his cousin. The less she knew about Laird MacLanoch, the better.
As they rounded a bend in the trail, a large, thick-furred, whiskered animal leapt from the loch’s bank to pause briefly in the middle of the path. A duck hung limp between its clenched jaw.
‘Don’t move!’ warned Cuthbert.
The animal’s piercing green eyes narrowed, threatening attack. In a flash, it disappeared into the woods with its dead meal.
Helene slapped a hand over her heart, and she expelled a pent-up breath. ‘What was that?’
‘A Scottish wildcat. Aggressive and adaptable hunters. Once thought to be man-killers.’ He laughed.
‘I can see why!’
‘Consider yourself lucky. It’s a rare sight to see one at this time of day, if at all.’
His sudden silent scrutiny of Helene left her feeling uneasy. ‘What is it?’
He rocked once on his heels and gave her an appraising nod. ‘I salute you and applaud your impressive performance in the great hall this morning. I would never have pegged you to be the epitome of pluck, nor stout-hearted and as resourceful as you are attractive.’
Heat rose in Helene’s cheeks.
‘And,’ he added, with a shifty smile, ‘congratulations on calling my cousin’s bluff. Smart move. He played right into your hands. You will have earned his and the clan’s respect, and he will admire your courage, even though you publicly dared to challenge him. I’d say you’ve already won him over.’
Cuthbert’s apology was dumbfounding to be sure, but this last admission all but winded Helene. Indignant, she flexed her fingers before tightly clasping both hands behind her back.
‘What you witnessed,’ she insisted, ‘was not a calculated performance, and I most certainly did not call his bluff. My actions were sincere and true.’
Cuthbert stood silent and inscrutable. In the next instant, he doubled over with loud laughter. ‘My dear, you speak with determined conviction, but . . .’ He dissolved into another fit of laughter. ‘You cannot expect me to believe you’d have let Lachlan lop off your hand.’
Helene picked up a fallen branch and held it executioner style. ‘Laugh again and I’ll lop off your head.’
Sobering words which caused him to stare at her, stupefied. ‘You mean to say you would have actually gone through with it?’
‘What in God’s name is going on here?’
Helene turned to see Lachlan jump down from his horse even before it came to a standstill.
Cuthbert received a forceful shove to the chest, further distancing him from Helene and toppling him to the ground.
Lachlan’s gaze made a clean sweep of Helene from head to toe.
‘Did he hurt ye, lass? Are ye all right?’ Genuine concern for her lay bare in his eyes.
She sent the branch hurtling behind her into the woodland. ‘No, he didn’t hurt me, and yes, I’m perfectly fine.’
‘Cousin,’ said Cuthbert. ‘It’s not what you think.’ He sounded calm, if not amused by Lachlan’s reaction.
Lachlan stood with fists balled at his side. ‘I round the corner to find the lass looking heated and displeased, defending herself with a stick, and ye expect me not to think the worst of ye?’
‘Cuthbert’s right,’ insisted Helene. ‘There was an animal of the like I’d never seen before. I was preparing to fend it off.’
Lachlan’s eyes sharpened on Cuthbert. ‘An animal. Aye. Of course it was.’
‘A wildcat, if you must know,’ said Cuthbert, standing to dust the dirt from his breeches, backside, and the elbows of his jacket.
Lachlan’s brows rose in suspicion. ‘Wildcats are mostly active at dawn or dusk, not in the middle of the day.’
‘It was indeed cat-like and huge,’ said Helene.
Lachlan cut her a glance. ‘Then describe it.’
‘You don’t believe me?’ She settled both hands on her hips and her voice grew louder. ‘You think me a liar?’
‘Describe it,’ he repeated.
‘Very well. It hissed and yowled through long-fanged teeth. Its coat had solid black and brown stripes. It had a thick banded tail, and its paws were bigger than a dog’s. It had a dead duck in its mouth, poached, if not stolen, from your loch. Shall we hunt it down and have it stand trial?’
Cuthbert gave a snort of laughter.
Helene’s eyes did not waver from Lachlan’s hard stare. A muscle twitched along his jaw. She lifted her chin. ‘Satisfied I’m telling the truth?’
‘Satisfied.’ He gave Cuthbert a stern, cursory glance. ‘For now.’
A horse whinnied, announcing the arrival of Grizel and Agnes each on horseback. Grizel slid from the saddle with practised ease, whereas Agnes accepted Cuthbert’s assistance in dismounting.
Agnes took Helene’s hand in hers. ‘It seems Mother and I missed quite the confrontation between yourself and Lachlan.’ She looked suddenly mortified. ‘But were you quite serious about stepping in for that lad and—?’
‘Quite serious.’ Helene retracted her hand. ‘I confess to being ignorant about clan convention.’ She gave the laird a sidewards glance. ‘Nonetheless, Lachlan, his mother, and I discussed what happened. We’ve cleared the air, and Lachlan and I have come to an understanding.’
Grizel’s face lit up with a smile. ‘All of Drumocher is talking about ye!’
Helene’s stomach dropped. ‘I apologise. I meant no disrespect, and I—’
‘Apologise?’ The young girl’s eyes gleamed with adoration for Helene. ‘Nonsense! I ken ye dinnae understand our ways, but ’twas most valiant and courageous of ye to speak up in wanting to protect wee Donnie. Ye’ve inspired me to be assertive and speak my mind.’
‘Haven’t ye always done so?’ snapped Lachlan. ‘Whether yer opinion is sought or not.’
Helene sensed his anger was directed at herself for having made such an indelible impression on his sister, but the effect of his words visibly stung Grizel as if she’d fallen on the ubiquitous spines of flowering gorse.
She squared up to her brother, chin raised and shoulders pushed back.
‘Aye, brother! But I wish to be heard. Not simply tolerated.’ Her voice gained power.
‘Women are not mere baubles used to decorate a man’s arm or to forever be his caretaker.
Nor should their body’s sole purpose be to warm a man’s bed or deliver him a bairn, an heir no less.
We’re capable of so much more, and our opinions and actions are worthy of any man’s note. Even yers!’
Helene felt compelled to applaud Grizel but knew better than to meddle in their fractious sibling altercation.
No one looked more shocked by Grizel’s articulate attack than Lachlan. He blinked, then blinked again as though noticing her for the very first time.
A pained expression, if not one of regret, sat between his gathered brows. He acknowledged her with a slow nod. ‘Thank ye, sister. Heard and respectfully noted.’
Agnes broke the silence with a loud clap of her hands. She pointed to satchels tied to the pommel of each saddle. ‘Cook has prepared us a sumptuous picnic. I’m famished. Shall we partake now of the feast?’
Lachlan met her request with a smile. ‘Ladies, perhaps ye can find us an agreeable spot by the water. Cuthbert and I will be along shortly.’
Agnes eagerly led Grizel and Helene towards the loch’s edge. Helene glanced over her shoulder, disturbed to see Lachlan’s visage darken and his gaze skewer Cuthbert.