Chapter Fourteen #2
Conversation between Helene and her avid listener stopped when they walked beneath the raised portcullis and a throng of people surged forward to welcome home the trio.
Lachlan tossed the reins of the horse to a stable-boy and escorted Helene and Grizel up the stairs leading directly into the great hall.
He signalled to a maid, instructing her to inform Cook of their arrival and to bring refreshments.
His fingers uncinched the weapons belt and set it down atop a trestle table.
No sooner did they take their seats than a familiar voice boomed from the opposite end of the hall. ‘Cousin! Lady Helene! Welcome back.’
Cuthbert.
Helene looked past him, towards the exit, and inhaled a calming breath in the hope it would settle her nerves. It didn’t. She wasn’t ready to face him, nor was she prepared for him to pull her aside and interrogate her.
And Lachlan. How could she bring herself to betray him so quickly after promising to keep their intimacy a secret? A kiss. Reveal nothing more.
Helene felt sick to her stomach. Betrayal and lies. They weren’t within her moral makeup, but needs must.
*
Lachlan’s hackles rose on sighting Cuthbert. Instinct said to keep him away from Helene. There was something irksome about his cousin’s confident stride, his tailor-made breeches, silk vest, and hair perfectly styled in a queue. Why would he dress as if he were at court?
By comparison, Lachlan could smell a mixture of his own sweat and the damp wool of his plaid, as his sister was so blunt to point out. His unshaven face and unruly hair left him looking more like a homeless Highlander than a laird.
When Cuthbert sat down opposite Helene at the table, his leer sent her gaze into her lap, where her hands flexed before repeatedly smoothing the folds of the skirt covering her thighs.
The memory of those naked thighs, soft and supple beneath Lachlan’s palms, and the way she’d trusted him with her body, had forever changed him.
So deep and profound were his feelings for her that, where once he’d threatened to harm Cuthbert should he so much as steal a kiss from Helene, any future threats Lachlan made would lean towards lethal.
A frightening and telling realisation. One that rocked him to the core.
All smiles, Cuthbert asked, ‘How did you enjoy your sojourn in the hills? Did it prove to be all you both hoped to achieve? And Helene, did you accomplish your wish to stand barefoot in the shallows of a running stream?’
The lass had dipped more than her toes in a stream, but Lachlan was not about to let that discussion take place here and now. In a tight voice, he said, ‘We’ll talk about it later, in the company of yer mother and mine, and Agnes. Why not tell us how ye’ve occupied yer time in our absence?’
Cuthbert’s smile broadened. ‘I’ve mastered the art of skimming stones on the loch and therefore challenge you to a rematch.’
Music to Lachlan’s ears. ‘Challenge accepted.’
Grizel spoke up, her gaze darting between Lachlan and Helene. ‘I for one cannae wait to hear more about yer time away at the shielings. From what ye’ve already told me, Helene, ye’ve had quite the memorable adventure.’
Cuthbert raised his brows at Helene. ‘Well, that’s pricked my ears.’
She stood abruptly. ‘If you all don’t mind, I’ll take to my bedchamber to rest before the evening meal. It’s been a long day, and I’m somewhat fatigued.’
Lachlan came immediately to his feet. ‘Aye, lass. I’ll have a servant bring ye yer refreshments.’
Grizel, eager to please, said, ‘And I’ll arrange for the wooden tub to be brought and filled in yer bedchamber. After all that walking and being caught up in a squall, ye’ll need a good, long soak.’
‘I thank you both,’ said Helene. She and Grizel headed for the door.
‘Wait!’ Cuthbert rose to his feet. ‘How did you come by that brooch you wear?’
Lachlan wished he had insisted Helene remove the adornment before his sister and now Cuthbert had noticed it. But what explanation would he have given her for doing so, and without raising her suspicion or provoking questions?
Helene’s slender fingers caressed the lovingly polished silver adornment. ‘Aila, one of the Highland cottars, gave it to me.’
Cuthbert raised a brow. ‘You must have made quite the impression for her to have relinquished to you such a personal heirloom.’
Lachlan didn’t need to see his cousin’s face to know the machinations of his mind. Cuthbert was too clever a man not to understand the significance of Aila’s gesture.
‘Enough now,’ said Lachlan. ‘Leave the lass be.’
‘Of course.’ Cuthbert inclined his head and made a sweep of his hand towards the hall’s exit. ‘Rest well. I look forward to hearing all about your . . . adventures.’
Lachlan swore under his breath and sat down at the table. He knew that with the women gone, Cuthbert would put the screws to him. Their conversation would not be so private, with servants busy in the hall setting up for the evening meal.
Two kitchen hands arrived to place wine, cheese, and bread on the table and left with Lachlan’s instructions to promptly provide the same for Helene in her bedchamber.
When Cuthbert sat down, he crossed one leg over the other, folded his arms, and wore a supercilious grin.
Lachlan poured himself a glass of wine and, after taking a sip, broke the temporary silence between them, demanding, ‘What?’
‘Helene and the shielings. Tell me something. Anything.’
‘Did ye nae hear me? We’ll discuss it tonight with the family present.’
‘You’re being evasive.’
Lachlan cut a chunk of cheese and took a bite. ‘I’m not being evasive. I’m hungry, thirsty, and in need of a wash and a change of clothes.’
Cuthbert fanned his nose with his hand. ‘You are a little on the ripe side, but surely you can talk, eat, and drink at the same time.’
‘There’s not much to tell.’
Cuthbert’s sudden burst of laughter startled the servants nearby.
‘You disappear to the shielings with a peach of a young woman, for longer than expected, and declare there’s nothing to tell?
Something happened. What did you do? How did Helene cope?
Was she a benefit or a burden during your time away? And—’
Lachlan stabbed the knife he held into the wooden tabletop and at the same time said, ‘Keep yer voice down.’
He immediately checked his temper, careful not to behave in such a manner as to have Cuthbert jump to conclusions about what had transpired between himself and Helene. He must protect her honour and reputation. At all costs.
He broke off a hunk of bread and said in a casual manner, ‘The lass was in nae way a burden. Ye’ve seen for yersel’ that she’s of strong mind and will and possesses a good and kind heart.
She didnae complain about anything or anyone.
Not the arduous journey there and back or having to sleep in a stone hut on a bed of heather.
‘She didn’t baulk at having to eat from a crude wooden bowl or to drink water drawn from a stream. She tasted a dram of uisge-beatha, and the women and children took to her as easily as she did to them. There ye have it in a nutshell.’
Cuthbert spread his hands wide and shrugged. ‘And here was I convinced she wouldn’t be seen other than eating off fine porcelain plates and sipping champagne with England’s elite. I find it hard to believe she imbibed whisky with uneducated heathens.’
‘Dinnae speak so ill of my clan. They’re honest and hard-working. The latter of which ye ken nothing about.’ Lachlan took hold of the knife’s hardwood handle. ‘And ye underestimate Helene.’
‘Clearly.’ Cuthbert glanced down at Lachlan’s hand. ‘You might want to loosen your grip on that knife before your knuckles pop clear of your skin.’
Lachlan ignored the cynical quip in favour of steering the conversation clear of Helene. He yanked the knife out of the table and cut himself another chunk of cheese. ‘How else did ye occupy yer time?’
‘Thinking. I had plenty of time to think, and much of it done while skimming stones. Most therapeutic, you know.’
‘Did ye draw any life-altering conclusions?’
‘I most certainly did, dear cousin. All thanks to you. What you’ve just described of Helene, being so amenable and seemingly easy to please, serves to validate my decision in heeding your advice.’
Lachlan’s guard went up. ‘What advice would that be?’
Cuthbert whispered, ‘To marry Helene.’
‘Nae!’
Cuthbert stiffened at the sudden outburst. ‘Was it not you who suggested her father and mine are in cahoots, hoping that here, away from London’s distractions, she and I would forge a connection and in time marry?’
Lachlan stood up and bellowed, ‘Clear the hall. Now!’ Servants scurried away, slamming shut the doors behind them at either end of the hall. He sat down, rattled by his cousin’s declaration. ‘I was wrong to suggest ye wed her. She deserves better.’
Cuthbert’s chin tilted a degree. ‘You don’t think I’m good enough for her?’
‘Neither of us are good enough for Lady Helene.’
Cuthbert’s face was all confusion. ‘Who said anything about you marrying the chit?’
Lachlan leaned in closer and hissed, ‘Curb yer disrespectful tongue and keep yer voice down! The walls have ears.’
In a sharp whisper, Cuthbert said, ‘As you so rightly pointed out, she is the key to my problem. If I’m to marry at all, which is of course inevitable, it may as well be her.
Doing so will satisfy my father’s ultimatum and guarantee my inheritance.
Upon his death, I’ll rise to the rank of viscount.
Helene will give me an heir and, God willing, a spare, and I’ll be free to take as many lovers as I wish.
It’s the best possible outcome for all involved. ’
It took every shred of self-control for Lachlan not to lunge across the table and throttle Cuthbert. ‘As I said, she deserves better. She deserves a man who marries her for love, nae for convenience or connection.’
‘Love? Love?’ Cuthbert’s laugh was as sardonic as his reply. ‘That’s hardly the way of the world, and you know it.’
‘What I ken is that Helene is not what ye first described. She’s not some highbrow lass with an offensive air of superiority. Nor does she think herself too good for any man. If she cannae wed for love, then she’s nae desire to be bargained with like some prized breeding mare.’
Cuthbert pointed a finger at Lachlan. ‘Now there’s a conversation I wish I’d been privy to. Care to share?’
‘Nae!’ Lachlan took up his wine and took a deep swallow.
‘If not me, then her father will marry her off to someone else. She’ll have no say in the matter. You do realise that?’
Of course he did, but Lachlan would see her wed to God and cloistered away in a convent before he’d let any man claim her.
Cuthbert pushed his point. ‘I’d be good to her. Treat her with respect. She’d want for nothing and have a good life with me. No harm would befall her. Surely you know me well enough to trust me on that.’
Lachlan set his wine down and clenched his hand into a fist beneath the table. Had he not done so, the glass goblet would have shattered within his grasp. ‘Aye, Cuthbert. I ken ye well enough, and I do trust ye’d take good care of Helene, but ye dinnae love her.’
‘An insignificant detail.’
‘I won’t allow it.’
Cuthbert rushed to his feet, palms pressed to the table. ‘You won’t allow it? Who the hell are you to dictate to me who I can and can’t marry?’
Lachlan held his tongue, his eyes fixed on the scarred wooden table, fingers flexing beneath it.
‘Does Helene know about Tibbie?’
‘Nae.’
‘Are you going to tell her?’
‘Why would I tell her?’
Cuthbert sat down. ‘The brooch. It would put the giving of the gift into perspective for Helene, because the only reason Aila would part with that brooch is if she thought you and Hel—’
‘Donnie! Aila gave Helene the brooch in thanks for having the courage to defy me in standing up for Donnie.’ It was at least half of the truth. No one, least of all Cuthbert, need know the other half.
‘Balderdash! You’re a fool if you expect me to believe that.’
Lachlan met Cuthbert’s narrowed gaze. ‘Believe what ye want. It makes nae difference to me.’ He took up his glass, drained the wine, and reached for a refill.
‘Slow down.’
‘I’m thirsty!’
‘And tetchy.’
Lachlan took a swig from the neck of the bottle and felt the unnerving eyes of an eagle on him. If he didn’t up and leave the hall now, Cuthbert would stop circling him and swoop in for the kill.
‘You seem unusually . . . different,’ said Cuthbert. ‘Your actions. Your outbursts.’
An observation Lachlan ignored and sprang to his feet.
‘And for what reason do you so gallantly champion Helene?’
‘So that she returns to her father in the same state as she arrived. Safe and virtuous.’
‘Virtuous?’ Cuthbert raised a brow. ‘Why did you just look away the instant I said that word?’
Lachlan clapped his gaze on Cuthbert. ‘I dinnae ken what ye’re on about!’
Cuthbert folded his arms and studied Lachlan as if he were an insect stuck with pins under a microscope.
‘My, my, cousin. If I don’t but recognise the hallmarks of a guilty man.
Unnaturally defensive. Shoulders drawn up.
You’ve a harried look about you, and the wine bottle is damp from your sweaty palm.
I must wonder if you’ve not already staked your claim on the emerald-eyed jewel. ’
Lachlan snatched up his weapons from the table.
Cuthbert jumped to his feet and blocked Lachlan’s path forward. ‘Did you kiss her?’
Heart thumping inside his chest, Lachlan made a move to sidestep Cuthbert. Not fast enough. Cuthbert’s face was inches from his.
‘Did you? Kiss her?’
Lachlan’s jaw clenched as hard as his fist around sheathed steel, and his eyes locked with Cuthbert’s in a standoff. The walls of the hall closed in on him. Each burning breath laboured within a tightening chest. He shoved Cuthbert aside. ‘Out of my way.’
‘Cousin!’
Lachlan stopped short of the exit, standing with his back to Cuthbert.
‘You made me a promise, remember? You said, “I’ll ne’er let a lassie drive a wedge between us.”’
Disappointment resonated in Cuthbert’s accusation, causing Lachlan’s shoulders to slump.
‘If you did indeed kiss the lass, then I won’t hold a blade to your throat as you would do to me. I’d shake your hand and congratulate you.’
‘This is nae game or wager we play!’
‘No. It isn’t.’ Cuthbert’s sonorous voice had softened. ‘But if you and Lady Helene have indulged in more than just a kiss . . . well then, I know you’ll do the right and honourable thing by her. In which case, you have my blessing.’
Stunned into a state of confusion, Lachlan glanced over his shoulder to see Cuthbert smile, nod, and raise the bottle of wine in salute.