by Amy Jarecki
Helen touched her lips to her daughter’s forehead. “I shall never approve of an arranged marriage for you, lass. I swear it on my father’s grave. You shall have your choice of any knight in the realm.”
Helen rocked and rocked, humming whilst she allowed the quiet solitude to revive her soul. Perhaps she could spend more time with Maggie—or feign an illness so she wouldn’t have to see Sir Eoin again. How poorly he must have apprised her after Aleck slobbered that kiss all over Mary.
An anchor sank to the pit of Helen’s stomach. She couldn’t remember Aleck ever kissing her like that. Worse, she definitely could not imagine him ever doing so. In the past, her husband’s kisses had been brusque pecks. He’d never been overly affectionate. In fact, his ever increasing disdain for Helen oft had her doubting he harbored any affection for her at all. Aye, she’d tried to act the ideal wife, always seeing that things ran smoothly in the keep—always trying to make Aleck happy. If only he would show appreciation for her efforts.
Helen closed her eyes to rest them for a bit. And as the hour grew later, her eyelids became ever so heavy. She leaned her head back and allowed sleep to take her mind away.
She woke with a start when Sarah tapped her shoulder. “M’lady?”
Helen rubbed a hand over here face. “Sarah? You’ve returned already?”
“I was afraid you’d be cross with me for staying away too long.”
“Not at all.” Helen stood and gently rested Maggie in her cradle. “Is the hour late?”
“Aye. Everyone has gone to bed. The lamps and candles in the hall have been snuffed.”
“Oh my, you were away for a time.”
“Forgive me.” Sarah blushed.
Helen figured there might be a lad who’d caught her eye. After all, nursemaids were allowed a bit of fun from time to time. She patted Sarah’s shoulder. “Not to worry. Maggie and I were fine. But I’d best find my bed. I fear tomorrow will be busy with a stable loft full of warriors.”
“Och, aye.” Sarah grinned. “Will they be here for long?”
“I sincerely hope not.” Helen gave her a wink. “But their chieftain is a childhood friend of mine, if you’d like me to put in a good word on your behalf.”
Sarah’s cheeks grew redder. “I’m sure that will not be necessary, m’lady.”
“You could do far worse than a MacGregor lad.”
“Aye?” Sarah curtseyed. “Thank you, m’lady.”
Helen collected a candle and opened the door. “I shall see you on the morrow.”
Making her way through the dimly lit stone passage, she sighed. If only things had been different for her. True, her brother had made a good alliance with her betrothal, but Helen hadn’t seen Duncan in years.
Once inside her chamber, she set the candle on the bedside table. Unlacing her gown took effort, but she didn’t want to wake Glenda. When she finally shook out her linen shift and climbed into bed, noise from the adjoining chamber startled her.
“Your bosoms make my cock harder than forged iron,” Aleck’s voice rumbled through the walls, followed by a woman’s chuckle.
“I want you to suckle me.” No question, it was Mary’s voice.
Aleck’s growl rattled the wall.
Helen tensed and clamped her fingers around the linens.
The bed on the other side of the wall creaked. Louder and louder the disgusting noises of passion grew. Mary moaned and begged for more, her mewls growing faster.
Helen clapped her hands over her ears, but the bed thudding into the wall was too loud. On and on the bed creaked. Aleck bellowed a gut-wrenching roar. Every muscle in Helen’s body tensed. She sat upright for a moment, ready to flee. But just when Helen thought it would never end, all went quiet.
She moved her trembling hands over her face and coughed out a sob. God in heaven, I can take this no longer.
Chapter Five
By the next morning, Helen had made up her mind. She would confront Aleck and let her feelings be known. After dressing and breaking her fast, she gathered her wits and proceeded to the second floor solar. Along the way, she reminded herself of the important points—things that had kept her awake all night. Her first concern, of course, was Maggie. Helen would protect her daughter no matter what, but she would also speak her peace. She’d done nothing but serve and bow to her husband for the past five years. He owed her a modicum of respect.
It was time she made some demands of her own. But still, as she proceeded down the winding tower stairs, unease gripped her insides.
The bottom further dropped from her stomach when she arrived at her husband’s solar door. Summoning her fortitude, she knocked softly. When there was no answer, Helen stood a bit taller and gave two firm raps.
“Come.” The foreboding timber of Aleck’s voice was enough to make most lassies tremble.
Though Helen wanted to crack open the door and peer in like a mouse, she stepped inside and closed it with a deep, empowering inhale. “We must talk.”
Aleck looked up from the ledger. His black eyes narrowed with his disapproving frown. “Well? Out with it. I’ve things to attend,” he said, drumming his fingers to further make his impatience clear.
She clasped her palms together and stepped forward. There was no use trying to soothe him with flowery language. That had never worked in the past. “I request that you send Maggie and me to Iona.”
Aleck glared, the color of his face flushed like he’d held a fire to it. “Pardon?”
She’d seen that heated stare before and this time she would not allow him to intimidate her. “As you are aware, my brother, John, is Bishop of the Isles and resides at the abbey. He could help us secure a place in the nunnery. I would retire into the service of our Lord and raise our daughter with sound Christian values.”
“A nunnery? Have you lost your mind?” Aleck leaned forward in his seat, his scowl taking on a deadly glint. “No, wife. You’ll not be going anywhere, especially with my daughter.”
Beneath her heavy skirts, Helen clenched her bottom muscles and stared him in the eye. “Why ever not? You openly disdain me and you haven’t seen Maggie since the day she was born.”
“How dare you question me? What are you thinking with that feeble, female mind of yours? A nunnery?” Aleck braced his palms on the table and stood, leveraging his size for further intimidation. “You and the bairn are mine. My property. I’ll never allow either of you to leave Mingary.”
Her mind raced. She’d expected his refusal—had rehearsed her argument. “We could keep it quiet.” She spread her hands to her sides and took a bold step forward. “I simply ask to reside in a nunnery where I will no longer cause you consternation—or give you excuses to taunt me.”
He growled, but Helen continued before he had a chance to spew another rebuttal. “I’d hoped you might see reason after bashing the bed against the wall with Mary half the night. I-I understood when you took a leman upon my confinement. But if you persist—”
“So now you’re threatening me?” He scoffed and sauntered toward her. “My God, you are a foolhardy woman.”
This time, his insult made the hackles at the back of her neck stand on end. “Why is it that every time I confront you, you manage to completely avoid the issue and try to make me out the bumbling idiot?”
“Because—”
“No.” Clenching her fists, Helen took another step toward him. They were finally behind closed doors and she would confront him. “I shall tell you why. Because you have never cared for me. You haven’t given me an iota of respect since the day I came to Mingary. Last eve you couldn’t even pay me a compliment for ensuring the meal was prepared and plentiful for forty unexpected men.”
“You overstep your bounds.” His gravelly voice deepened.
She allowed his threatening tenor to embolden her. “Do I? Am I never allowed my say?”
Aleck’s eyes growing darker, he sauntered forward like a man bent on violence. Her husband had never struck her before—would he now?
Though Helen trembled from head to toe, she refused to flee. “I’ve kept this keep in good order for five years and I’ve never once heard a word of thanks from you. And yet you have the audacity to call me foolhardy.” Her chin ticked up. “I daresay, I’m not the foolish party in this room.”
“Watch yourself—you will push me too far.” He stepped within a hand’s breadth, towering over her small frame.
Her heart hammered so hard her temples throbbed. “There you go, using your size to threaten me. Isn’t that always the way?” Helen met his gaze. “You will not coerce me into submission this day. You claim you want a son? I have healed from birthing Maggie and am again ready to conceive.” The thought of lying with the brute turned her stomach sour.
His hand darted out and clamped on to her shoulder and he regarded her with a menacing glare. “Would you like me to bend you over the table now?”
“Och, aye?” she taunted with a sneer of her own, calling his bluff. “You choose to treat your wife like a whore?” Helen twisted from under his grasp and skittered backward. “You find Mary so much more attractive than I? What is it you prefer about that woman? Her enormous breasts? Her gargantuan backside?”
Aleck’s eyes narrowed. “Curb your vulgar tongue, woman!” Faster than the strike of an asp, he slapped her face.
Reeling back, Helen drew her fingers over the stinging cheek, blinking in rapid succession to clear her vision. “How dare you raise your hand against me?” Gracious, he’d hit her so hard, her teeth wouldn’t meet as if he’d knocked her jaw out of alignment.
He closed the gap. Helen turned to flee, but his arm clamped around her midsection. He tugged up her skirts. “I’ll show you who is lord and master in this castle.”
Shrieking, Helen twisted and fought to flee, but he held her in a viselike grip. The arm around her waist clenched so taut, she could scarcely draw a breath. With a gasp she threw all her weight against him. “You think I am daft?” she screamed.
He grunted against her writhing attempts to burst free. But that did nothing to allay his powerful grip around her waist while he savagely tugged up her skirts.
Regardless of his oafish brutality, her tongue would not be quelled. Helen would speak her mind and damn the consequences. She twisted enough to manage a deep breath. “You would prefer to be whoring with a vindictive, immoral wench?”
Alex dropped her skirt. Fastening his fingers around her jaw, he twisted her head to face him. He pressed his lips to her ear. “Mary was my leman long before you arrived at Mingary.” His tone took on a deadly growl. “You have no right to speak ill of her. The widow went through hell after she lost her husband.”
Hit with the ominous shock of the depth of her plight, Helen stopped struggling. Her head swooned. “You have been intimate with that woman throughout the duration of our marriage?”
He released his arm and spun her around, sinking his fingers in to her shoulders. “That is none of your concern.”
By his deadpan glare, Helen knew he had never been faithful to their marriage bed. He sickened her. Though her face throbbed from his slap and his unyielding fingers dug into her flesh, she could not refrain from her tirade. “Even though I am able to conceive again, you’ve chosen to consort with that whore rather than your wife.” She stamped her foot. “Worse, you openly show your lust for that woman. Do you know how much your actions humiliate me? And yet you refuse my request to retire to a nunnery?”
His grip clamped tighter. “Must I repeat?” He shook her until her teeth rattled. “You are mine. I will use you as I please and you will be staying at Mingary.”
I hate him.
Helen closed her eyes and forced her mind to go to a place of serenity. “The position you have placed me in has become untenable,” she uttered in a low voice. “If you cannot at least make your advances toward your leman subtle, I’ll have no recourse but to take Maggie and head to the sanctuary of Iona.”
She didn’t even see the next slap coming, it was delivered with such vehement force. Her face instantly hot, pain seared across her face and Helen blinked in rapid succession as tears stung her eyes.
“You will not threaten me. I’ve an alliance to make with the lass,” he growled, giving her another teeth rattling shake. “If you attempt to take my daughter from Mingary, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
Helen’s tongue slipped to the corner of her mouth, met with the iron taste of blood. He had not only broken the code of chivalry, he was the vilest man she could imagine. So now he threatens murder? She shuddered.
He leaned into her with a sickly sneer stretching his lips. “But it won’t be an easy death. I’ll make sure you suffer for a very long time.”
A sense of calm precluded her panic. She looked from his right hand to his left. “Release me.” Her voice was lower than she’d ever heard it. “Lest you give me cause to seek an annulment—”
“A woman, appeal to the Pope?” he bellowed with a hideous laugh, but his grip eased.
Helen jolted from his steely fingers and darted for the door. “Guard! Help!” She flung it wide and hurtled into the passageway.
Grant ran toward her, his sword drawn. “M’lady—”
“Do not let him touch me.” Helen picked up her skirts and dashed past the guard.
“You were brought to Mingary to increase my wealth and to produce my heir! And you’ve woefully failed on the second account.” Aleck’s voice resounded through the stone passageway. Then he bellowed another taunting laugh. “After all this time, do you still have imaginings of love and sailing off into sunsets, like the stories in those ridiculous books you read?”
Helen clapped her hands over her ears to block Aleck’s tirade and ran for the solace of the beach. She ran to the only place in God forsaken Ardnamurchan where she could be alone. Once outside the bailey walls, a brisk wind cut through her gown, but Helen could scarcely feel the cold. The entire time she’d been in Aleck’s solar, she’d maintained her composure, but now, free from his brutality, she couldn’t stop her tears as sobs wracked her body.
***
Eoin rubbed his hand over the worn timbers of his galley. The boat was in need of a good refit. At the very least, he and his men must patch the joins with pitch to ensure they had no problems when they sailed north. He walked around the outer hull, making a mental note of weak spots that could possibly give them trouble. There was nothing more damning than a bloody leak in the midst of a squall in the North Sea.
He straightened at the sound of a woman’s wail sailing past on the wind—an eerie sound. Most likely it was a seagull, but Eoin stooped and peered beneath the curve of galley’s stern, looking in the direction of the noise. Lady Helen ran across the stony beach with her hands clapped to her face. Then she climbed a small outcropping and disappeared behind the rocks.
What the devil?
It didn’t surprise him that she was upset. Any man would have challenged Sir Aleck to a brawl had they been insulted in the way Lady Helen had endured last eve. Eoin straightened and swiped a hand across his mouth. He had no business meddling. The lady had made her decision long ago. She’d broken his heart once and seeing her again only served to open the old wound.
Her wail howled on the wind.
Eoin’s heart twisted. They had been good friends once. His memory returned with clarity. Of the four sisters, Helen had always been the most well-mannered—not that any of Duncan’s sisters were audacious. But why had Lady Helen married a rogue?
Pushing aside his unfounded concern, he continued with his inspection of the hull.
The wail came again. This time the agony in the lady’s tone cut through to his gut.
Before he allowed himself another thought, he strode toward Lady Helen’s hiding place. The rocks were sharp and slick with mist. She could have fallen.
Arriving at the outcropping where she’d disappeared, Eoin looked down. The hem of her blue kirtle peeked from under the stony shelf.
As he descended, Helen’s stuttered br
eaths swelled up to him. Her voice filled with incredible agony, the woefulness of it wrapped tendrils around his heart.
Jumping down, Eoin landed upon smooth sand.
With another gasp, her hem disappeared further into the cavern.
“Lady Helen?”
“Leave me.” Her voice trembled.
I really ought to take her advice. Eoin crouched down and peered inside. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized she had a bruise forming under her eye.
I could kill the bastard.
He crawled beside her and kneeled. “You’ve been hit.” She had another, larger bruise on the right side of her jaw. “More than once.”
“I am fine.” She snapped a hand to her chest, sucking in sharp inhales as if she were trying to regain control.
Reaching out, he brushed the bruise near her eye with the back of his finger.
She flinched.
“Did Sir Aleck do this?” Honestly, he needn’t ask.
She pursed her lips and nodded, the anguish in her eyes unmistakable. Eoin wished he’d been the one on the receiving end of that strike. Aleck MacIain would think twice before he lashed out at a woman again.
“I-I-I…” Drawing the corners of her mouth into a tortured frown, she turned as red as a ripe apple. She hid her face in her hands, breathing like she’d just run a footrace.
Eoin slid onto his haunches and smoothed his arm over her shoulders. “Easy, lass. There’s no need to say a word.”
She leaned into him as if craving compassion. “I’m sorry.”
Wishing to give her comfort, to do anything to take away her agony, he rubbed his palm on her shoulder in a circular motion. “There’s nothing to forgive. Just have a good cry and everything will feel better.”
Gently he rocked her, realizing Helen wore no veil covering her hair. Her locks were the color of burnt honey and smelled of lilies and rain. How anyone could raise a hand against such perfection, Eoin would never know.
Her breaths grew short—like hiccups. Eoin encircled her with his free hand and continued to sway, back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. “It will be all right,” he whispered into her temple. He hoped to God it would. Why did she marry that brutish maggot of a husband?
