Highland Knight of Rapture (Highland Dynasty Book 4)

by Amy Jarecki

  The guard examined her sealskin cloak from head to toe. Thank goodness Glenda had thought to bring Helen this one piece of finery. “Well then, let us away to the keep. I’m sure Lady Gyllis will be delighted to see you.” He turned to a guard standing with a poleax at the sea gate. “Run ahead and tell her ladyship her sister has arrived—quickly, now.”

  After Mr. Keith retuned Maggie to her arms, they proceeded up the embankment. Though exhausted, Helen took in a deep breath and strode with renewed hope filling her heart. Dunollie had never looked so grand with ivy growing up her stone walls. The guard ushered them through the sea gate and up the steep path to Dunollie’s inner courtyard. By the time they reached the keep, her legs were a bit unsteady. Bone-weary beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her life, Helen grew woozy at the prospect of seeing her sister.

  The door to the keep burst open. A lad stood beside Gyllis, with a toddler peeking out from behind her skirts. Helen’s sister grinned wide enough to see her back molars, but as soon as she looked at Helen, a grimace of concern quickly turned down her exuberant smile. Gyllis spread her arms wide. “My heavens, what on earth has happened? You look as if you’ve sailed through the bowels of hell.”

  Helen fell into her sister’s embrace. “Indeed, I have.” Inhaling the familiar lavender fragrance, a load as heavy as stones lifted from Helen’s shoulders.

  Gyllis squeezed tight. “Why did you not send word?”

  “There wasn’t time.” Between them, Maggie fussed. Helen pulled back far enough to give the bairn room to breathe. “I’ve much to tell you.”

  Gyllis looked down and her eyes popped. “Oh my. Is this Margaret? I received your missive some two months ago.”

  Helen raised her elbow to show off the babe. “Aye, I call her Maggie.”

  Grasping the lad and the lass beside her by the wrists, Gyllis grinned. “This is Zander and Anna—meet your Auntie Helen and your wee cousin.”

  Helen knelt down so the children could get a good look at the bairn. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Anna shoved her finger in her mouth. “Can she talk yet?” The words came out a bit garbled due to the finger, but Helen understood well enough.

  “Not yet. She’s but four months of age.”

  “I’m two-and-a-half.” The darling looked awfully proud of herself—already standing like a well-bred lass with chestnut locks.

  Helen chuckled. “My, you are a young lady nearly grown.”

  Zander, a good head taller, nudged Anna aside with his shoulder. “I’m almost five and my da says I’m to be a knight.”

  “I’m certain you will be a fine knight indeed.” Helen scrubbed her fingers into his sandy hair. “You’re already a brawny lad. I’ll wager you take good care of your sister. That is what knights do. They protect women and children.”

  The lad twisted his mouth and gave Anna a sideways glance. “Och, you mean I have ta protect her?”

  “Aye,” Helen offered a stern nod. “Without hesitation, a man defends his family first—”

  Maggie launched into a wail. Evidently the soggy oatcakes had run their course.

  Gyllis offered her hand and pulled Helen up. “Forgive my impertinence, but you look like you’ve spent a month in purgatory.”

  Helen stood with a woeful glance at her gown. She parted her cloak enough to show her sister the extent of the filth. “I have.”

  With a gasp, Gyllis cringed. “I cannot believe my eyes. My sister would never be seen in public clad thus. For the love of all that is holy, your plight must be inordinately grave.” Gyllis gestured inside. “Come above stairs and we’ll set you to rights straight away.”

  “I’d like nothing more, but first may I ask for some warm milk for Maggie, and food and a bed for Mr. Keith? He nearly broke his back rowing a skiff all the way from Mingary Castle.”

  “Rowing a wee skiff?” Gyllis’s jaw dropped. “I’ll see it done.” She clapped her hands and faced a woman who’d been standing in the kitchen doorway. “Jinny, please see to all Helen has requested.”

  The matron curtseyed. “Straight away, m’lady. And I’ll fetch the nursemaid for Anna and Zander.”

  “You’d best fetch the milk for the bairn first,” Keith said with a bow. “She’s been howling since daylight broke.”

  Gyllis knit her brows. “Goodness, your circumstances sound graver and graver.”

  Helen inclined her head toward the stairwell. “You shall not believe how dire things have become.” She again parted her cloak. “May I request a bath as well?”

  “Of course.” Gyllis slipped her arm around Helen’s shoulders. “You shall be treated as royalty whilst you’re at Dunollie.”

  As they proceeded toward the stairwell, Gyllis’s limp was barely noticeable. Helen’s sister had suffered from a bout of paralysis before she had married Sir Sean MacDougall. The disease could have left her abed for the rest of her days, but Gyllis had been determined to walk again. Only through her determination and perseverance did she recover. Helen maintained the utmost respect for her sister—she proved herself the strongest of all the Campbell lasses. With hope, Helen had inherited some of that strength as well—no doubt she’d need it.

  Once in the lady’s solar, Jinny arrived with Maggie’s milk in no time. Helen accepted the bowl and spoon. “Thank you ever so much.”

  “My pleasure, m’lady. The lads will bring up the bath barrel and buckets as soon as the water has warmed.”

  “Lovely, again, I cannot thank you enough.”

  Jinny curtseyed and left them.

  Helen cradled Maggie on her lap and spooned the milk in the bairn’s mouth. The wee one lapped it up like a greedy puppy.

  Gyllis sat in the overstuffed chair opposite. “She has Aleck’s coloring.”

  “Aye, but she’s fine-boned like me.” Helen tried not to show her irritation. She didn’t want Maggie to resemble Aleck in the slightest, but the lass did have black hair.

  “Hmm.” Gyllis pursed her lips. “I can tell by your frown, my remark displeases you.”

  Helen bowed her head. “Aye,” she whispered.

  “Tell me why you’re here looking like a guttersnipe. Truly, Helen, your news must be deplorable.” Gyllis drew her eyebrows together. “What of Sir Aleck?”

  Closing her eyes, Helen took in a deep breath. Where should she start? She gave Maggie another spoon of milk. There was no way to soften the news. “I have appealed to the Pope for an annulment.”

  With a gasp, Gyllis slapped both hands over her heart. “Oh dear God in heaven, ’tis that grave?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Helen said, blinking to allay her urge to cry. She stood and rested the bairn in the cradle. “I’ve been forced to flee my home with nothing but the rags I am wearing and my child.”

  After Helen returned to her seat, Gyllis quietly listened while Helen divulged every sordid detail of her twisted marriage. It wasn’t usually like Gyllis to keep silent. Helen was the sister who always listened and consoled the others. But this time, Helen needed an impartial ear, and her dear sister rose to the occasion.

  She omitted nothing. The disdain, the violence, her decision to send Eoin to Iona with her missive, her wrongful incarceration in that abominable dungeon, and further vile treatment whilst she remained locked in complete darkness.

  When Helen finished, she pressed her face against her palms. “If it weren’t for Mr. Keith and Glenda, I’d still be rotting in the dungeon.”

  Eyes wide, Gyllis looked completely stunned. “Your suffering is inconceivable. I cannot believe you endured his hostility for so long.”

  “’Tis like I’m floating in a dream right now. I cannot believe I am finally free from him.”

  “We must assure we remain discreet. Have you received word from the Pope?”

  Helen rubbed her aching eyes. “Nay, and I’ve not heard from Sir Eoin since he sailed for Iona. He promised to bring me word, and now that I have run away, he’ll never find me even if the Pope does grant my a
nnulment.”

  “Oh, my heavens, you poor dear.” Gyllis crossed the floor and took Helen’s hands between her palms. “Your plight is far worse than anything I could have imagined.”

  “I need a place to hide and, somehow, I must send word to Eoin MacGregor without anyone the wiser, especially anyone connected with the MacIain Clan.”

  “Of course, of course. We shall see to everything.” Gyllis rubbed her fingers atop the back of Helen’s hand. “And what about the elderly guard who accompanied you here? Mr. Keith, is it?”

  “Aye.” Helen nodded. “He can never return to Mingary. I owe him my life.”

  “Rowing all that way? God bless him. He is a loyal soul, indeed.”

  “There is none more so—he’s been incredibly kind. I promised him the protection of the Campbell Clan.”

  “He’ll have the protection of the MacDougalls as well.”

  “You are a jewel.” Though she wanted to sink into the overstuffed chair and close her eyes, another thing needed to be said. “I did not tell the guard my given name. I think ’tis best your servants remain unaware of which sister has come to call.”

  “On that you needn’t worry. I shall ensure everyone thinks you to be Alice.” Gyllis laughed. “With our sister living in Perthshire, no one will have a clue as to her identity.”

  “You are so clever. I still cannot believe I am here.” Allowing herself to smile, Helen peered into her sister’s caring blue eyes. “Oh, Gyllis I knew it was right to come to you.”

  Reaching out, the Lady of Dunollie patted Helen’s shoulder. “We shall see you’re fed, bathed and have a good night’s rest. But I think we must hide you away from a Campbell keep.”

  Helen didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Do you think it necessary?”

  “I do. When Sir Aleck discovers you’re missing, there will be hell to pay, and the first place he’ll look is here and Kilchurn.”

  “I hate this.” Wringing her hands, Helen clenched her teeth. “Where will I go?”

  “I have just the place.” Gyllis held up a finger and waggled her brows. “On the morrow, I shall spirit you and Maggie to Sean’s hunting cottage in Fearnoch Forest. No one will ever find you there—and ’tis well provisioned for the season. There you can stay and await word from the Pope.”

  “A hunting cottage?” Helen allowed herself to hope. “It sounds ideal.”

  “’Tis a tad rustic, but you should want for nothing. And I can visit you often.” Gyllis chuckled. “When Sean first became chieftain, the forest was riddled with outlaws, but no longer.”

  For the first time in years, the tightness in Helen’s chest eased. It was hard to believe that she and Maggie would be free at last. “I’d like to pen a missive to Sir Eoin. Are they still stationed at Dunstaffnage?”

  “Unfortunately, nay. The king is amassing his army at Tabert.” Gyllis covered her mouth with a sharp inhale. “’Tis a big secret. My husband would be very upset to know I’d told you so freely.”

  Helen’s heart sank—Dunstaffnage was only four miles north of Dunollie where it would be ever so easy to dispatch a message. If only Eoin were there. “Curses, if I didn’t have rotten luck, I’d have no luck at all. Tabert is quite far.” She knew of it only because the castle lay on Clan Campbell lands.

  “But not for a galley.” Gyllis grinned, the same mischievous smile she’d had as a child. “A small crew could set sail in the morning.”

  Helen gasped. “Honestly? Would they be able to take Mr. Keith with them? I would entrust a verbal message only to his care. I will not even venture to put quill to parchment.”

  Gyllis patted her hand with a reassuring glint in her eyes. “Then we shall make it so.”

  ***

  In the guest chamber, a wooden tub filled with warm water had been placed in front of the hearth, which already crackled with a hearty fire. Helen pulled the lace on her kirtle, untying the bow. “I cannot wait to be rid of this gown. It smells worse than a swine’s bog.”

  “I shall have the maids clean it and bring you a fresh change of clothes.” Gyllis stood back and eyed her. “I’ve a kirtle that’s a wee bit too short. It ought to fit.”

  “Thank you ever so much. I hope that one day I will be able to repay your kindness.”

  “No my dearest.” Gyllis cupped Helen’s face with her palm. “We are family. Campbells take care of their own.”

  “’Tis music to a lady’s ears.”

  “Shall I ask Jinny to assist you?”

  Helen glanced at the tub. It looked so inviting. “Honestly, I’d prefer to be left alone. I am ever so tired.”

  “Very well,” Gyllis agreed. “I shall send up a tray later—and worry not about the bairn. The nursemaid will take good care of her until the morrow.”

  “Are you sure?” A tightness gripped Helen’s chest. Though tired to her bones, she didn’t like being separated from Maggie all night. “Perhaps we should bring a cradle in here.”

  “Let me help you this once.” Gyllis pulled Helen’s cloak from her shoulders and draped it over a chair. “You need a good rest before we head for the cottage. I’ll see to it plenty of stores are loaded on a pack mule and we shall haste away after we break our fast. Does that meet with your approval?”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Helen clasped her hands together. “Thank you ever so much for your gracious generosity.”

  “You are my dearest sister. If someone asked me to give you my right arm, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  Helen let out a lightheaded chuckle. “I hope we never have to go to such extremes.”

  Stepping in, Gyllis grasped her elbow. “Are you certain you do not need assistance? You’re looking a bit pale.”

  That didn’t surprise Helen in the slightest. “I’m sure my head will stop swooning just as soon as I can immerse myself in the tub.”

  “Very well.” Her sister pointed. “If you should want for anything, my chamber is straight down the passageway.”

  “Thank you.”

  Helen waited until Gyllis left, then peeled off her dirty clothes and piled them in a heap in the privy closet. As far as she was concerned, that’s the only place where they belonged.

  Stepping into the basin, the warm water instantly soothed her. Gradually, she lowered herself in the heavenly tub until she sat with her knees tucked under her chin. The chambermaid had left a cake of soap, a comb and a drying cloth on a small table, and across the room, a dressing gown had been laid out on the bed.

  Holding the soap to her nose, Helen inhaled. “Sugared lavender.” Mother’s concoction, the scent would always remind her of home. Home. Such a comforting thought.

  With languid strokes, she washed every inch of her body and lathered soap in her hair. Once clean, Helen closed her eyes and leaned back. Oh, how the warmth buoyed her woes and took them floating away. How long had it been since she’d allowed herself to be at ease? Peaceful, she cleared her mind and focused on sunshine. The sun’s rays started inside her midriff and radiated out through her limbs. She stretched her fingers and toes and the radiance of the sun shot through the tips of each, until the sense of complete weightlessness flooded her entire body.

  Helen rested there, suspended in complete tranquility. Only when the water grew cold did she open her eyes.

  ***

  “With all due respect, I do not like the idea of abandoning Lady Helen in a hunting cottage in the midst of the forest,” Mr. Keith said, riding a grey gelding alongside Helen’s bay and pulling a pack mule behind.

  “I agree. I would not allow it if the forest were not entirely safe,” Gyllis replied as she led the way, sitting sidesaddle atop a sorrel Galloway. “Dunollie guards patrol Fearnoch daily. Make no bones about it, I assure you my sister will be secure.”

  “I’m sure I will be fine,” Helen agreed. Maggie rode in a sling suspended around her neck, and seemed to be quite enjoying the horse’s movement. “If Lady Gyllis is confident, then so am I.”

  After a good night’s sleep and
a morning meal of oats, bacon and eggs, Helen felt like a new woman. With two borrowed kirtles, and a pack mule loaded with enough stores to see her through Yule, she was excited about this new adventure. How a modicum of independence enlivens one’s soul.

  “There it is.” Gyllis pointed through the trees.

  Helen leaned aside to look around her. Sure enough, a stone cottage was practically hidden by the dense forest. She instantly adored it. “Oh, ’tis quaint.”

  “’Tis a hovel,” Mr. Keith groused. “A lady of your stature should be in a grand castle.”

  “Hogwash,” Helen said. “This is exactly what I need whilst awaiting word from His Holiness.”

  They rode into the clearing and dismounted. “There is a burn about fifty paces to the south,” Gyllis said. “And the water is pure and sweet.”

  “Lovely.” Helen inhaled the scent of pine and wildflowers with a smile.

  Mr. Keith tied the horses. “I’ll set to unpacking the mule.”

  “My thanks.” Helen looked to Gyllis. “Shall we?”

  “It isn’t a keep, but you and Maggie will want for nothing.” Gyllis pulled down the latch and opened the door.

  As soon as Helen stepped inside the cottage, she was rapt. Though Gyllis hadn’t exaggerated about it being rustic, the hideaway had distinct charm. A large stone hearth consumed much of the far end wall with a brushed sheepskin rug before it. Cast iron cooking utensils hung from iron pegs and a grill had been installed over the fire for easy use. In front of the hearth were two wooden chairs—one was a delightful rocker with a cushioned seat.

  Helen pointed. “I intend to spend my evenings rocking Maggie in that chair, singing lullabies until the bairn falls asleep.”

  “You do have a beautiful voice for ballads.” Gyllis grinned. “Maggie will slip into slumber in no time.”

  With a smile, Helen looked to the center of the chamber. A long table consumed the space, with benches on either side. Helen imagined Sir Sean and his men would roast venison and eat like kings whilst embellishing tales of their hunting expeditions. And being a hunting cottage, bows and quivers of arrows hung near the threshold.