Highland Knight of Rapture (Highland Dynasty Book 4)

by Amy Jarecki

  “Are you hungry, lassie?”

  Secured by her swaddling clothes, Maggie wiggled and grinned.

  “Let us change out these linens first.” Though it was common practice to remove the swaddling linens and dry them by the hearth, Helen found the odor too strong, and she washed them after each use. The bairn seemed to think Helen’s idea was splendid as well, because as soon as the swaddling bands were released, she kicked her legs and gurgled.

  “I rather think she likes it when she’s not bound so tight,” Eoin said, leaning against the doorjamb to the bedchamber with a plaid tucked low around his hips. His dark hair mussed and a shadow peppered his face. He stared at Helen with a halfcocked grin, his heavy-lidded eyes reminding her of the unbelievable night they’d shared.

  I know I’ll burn in hell for thinking it, but I could stare at that well-muscled chest all day.

  She smiled, then returned her attention to tying the coif atop Maggie’s head. “I’ve some oats for porridge. I’ll set a kettle to boil as soon as I’ve finished here.”

  “Not to worry, I’ll set to rekindling the fire and making the porridge. A man’s got to fend for himself when on the trail—I’m no stranger to mixing up a kettle of oats.”

  “My heavens, that’s even more surprising than my ability to cook.” Helen wound the long length of linen fabric around Maggie and refastened the swaddling bands. The babe wriggled and fussed.

  “How much longer will you swaddle her?” Eoin asked.

  “They say four to nine months. Though, Maggie is clearly preferring it when she has free movement.”

  “You could swaddle her from the waist down to catch the drippings. If it were up to me, I’d use oiled doeskin over the linen to keep her bedclothes dry. But who would ever listen to a bachelor?”

  “What a good idea.” Helen glanced around the sparsely appointed chamber. “Have you a length of soft leather?”

  The fire crackled to life. “Nay. I must remember to bring some on my next visit.”

  A welcomed warmth spread through Helen’s chest. She liked that he was planning to return. She poured some milk into a bowl and sat at the table with Maggie in her lap. “When will that be? Your return, that is,” she asked, spooning a bit of milk into the bairn’s mouth. The distraction of her task kept the anxiety from building up too much.

  “I wish I knew.” Pots clanged. “MacDonald surveillance up and down the coast has been keeping us running. I’m certain things will come to a head soon, but only God knows how long the fighting will last.”

  Helen’s stomach tensed. If only he could stay with her. “I hate to think of you being embroiled in the midst of harm.”

  “’Tis not me I’m worried about.”

  “Oh?”

  “I do not like the thought of leaving you here alone.”

  “You’re worried about me when you’re the one riding into battle?” She offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Gyllis and Mr. Keith will be watching out for me.”

  Eoin picked up a cast iron kettle and headed toward the door. “I ken. But ’tis dangerous and will be more so when Aleck discovers you’re missing. We cannot risk anyone finding you until the annulment is granted. I’d prefer to remain here with you.”

  After Eoin opened the door, a cold wind chilled Helen to the bone. When would Aleck discover she had escaped? If the men were running sorties, he could learn of it any day. The chill made her shudder as she remembered his threat… If you attempt to take my daughter from Mingary, I will hunt you down and kill you…It won’t be an easy death. I’ll make sure you suffer for a very long time.

  She must have had a terrified look on her face, because when Eoin returned with the kettle filled with water, he hastened to set it down and dashed to her side. “What is it?”

  “Please, do not let him find us.”

  He gathered her in his arms. “I’ll never let that man harm you again.” He cradled her face in his palms. “Duncan never should have arranged your marriage to MacIain and, further, I should have stopped it at the time. I will spend the rest of my life making up for your past five years of suffering.”

  “No, you mustn’t carry the burden of my past upon your shoulders.” Helen slid her arms around him and clung tight. “I only wish you could stay.”

  ***

  Nearly a month passed before Eoin could slip away to see Helen again. Even now, he should be patrolling with MacIain, but when Aleck’s galley was forced into dry dock for repairs at Tabert, Eoin took advantage of his window of time. I told the braggart to clear those damn mussels from his hull ages ago. Eoin chuckled. Lucky for me he didn’t listen.

  Before he sailed off with a small crew, Eoin had given Duncan the excuse he needed to take care of Clan Gregor business and would return within a sennight. Duncan didn’t like it, but the baron had no grounds on which to argue. The Lord of Glenorchy had made two visits to Kilchurn Castle during the past month.

  As the boat tacked into the pier at Taynuilt, Fergus grinned like a wet-eared lad. “Me missus will be happy to see us.”

  Eoin winked. “You’ll make her a happy woman, I’ve no doubt. Go on ahead with the men and I’ll meet you back here in a sennight.”

  Fergus snorted. “You’re not going with us?”

  “Nay, I’ve business to the south.”

  “Bloody hell, m’laird. Every time we cast ashore for a moment’s rest, you ride off on some clandestine mission.”

  Sometimes Eoin’s membership in the Highland Enforcers came in handy. “You ken how it is when carrying a message for the king. The more who ken my whereabouts, the more dangerous it is.”

  Fergus gave a knowing nod. “Well, do not count on seeing me for a sennight, then. I aim to keep my woman warm and make up for all the time we’ve been away.”

  “Good to hear.” Eoin slapped the henchman’s shoulder then turned his attention to the mooring. Sailing into the small fishing village of Taynuilt, no one at Dunollie Castle would be aware of Eoin’s visit this time, and since his men had no idea what he was up to, Helen’s hiding place was safe from discovery.

  After procuring a horse from the local stable, he made his way south into Fearnoch Forest, ever so anxious to see her again.

  Approaching the cottage, he slowed his horse to a walk. A gentle hum sailed through the air—Helen’s voice. Gooseflesh rose across Eoin’s skin. Oh how he adored the melodic sound of her singing. He drew near enough to glimpse his lady through the trees.

  Her honeyed locks swung forward while she raised her skirts and stepped into the wooden washbasin. “Oh my, the water is cold,” she squealed.

  Maggie’s infant voice giggled on the breeze. The bairn rested against pillows atop on a plaid, watching her mother as Lady Helen stomped on the washing like Eoin had seen washerwomen do countless times.

  He marveled at the industriousness of a woman used to being catered to by servants. She’s so willing to do anything necessary to keep her house in order.

  He tapped his heels into the horse’s barrel and started forward.

  A twig snapped with a crack.

  Helen’s head jerked up. Hopping out of the basin, she dropped her skirts while her fists flew under her chin. “Who’s there?”

  “’Tis only me,” Eoin said, riding into the clearing.

  She planted those fists on her hips, her initial expression of fear turning angry. “Eoin MacGregor, you said you would visit me as soon as you could get away. Do you realize I’ve been beside myself for the past fortnight because I have received no word from you?”

  “Forgive me, m’lady.” Eoin hastened to dismount and bowed deeply. “There have been continuous skirmishes up and down the seaboard. My men and I haven’t had a moment’s rest.”

  “Not even to send a missive to Lady Gyllis? How much time does it take to dispatch a letter to Dunollie?”

  Eoin smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I was hesitant to write because of the importance of keeping your whereabouts hidden. But I should
have penned a missive to Gyllis.”

  She shook her finger. “Yes, you should have.”

  He tossed the reins around the post outside the door. “Please accept my deepest apology. The thought didn’t cross my feeble mind.”

  “Did I say how worried I have been?”

  He nodded. “Aye.” Then he tried to reach for her. “It was wrong of me to allow so much time to pass without sending word.”

  She clasped her hands behind her back as if not yet ready to make amends. Then she looked away, her bottom lip trembling. “The last time you were here, everything was so heavenly, so perfect…a-and I knew you had to go away, but anxiously awaited your return. And then when you didn’t come for sennights, I began to think of awful things.” She gasped “Anything could have happened. Your galley could have sunk, you could have been severely injured in the fighting—or killed.” Helen wrung her hands. “I do not think I could have survived if something horrible had happened to you.”

  A tear dribbled from her eye and streamed down her lovely cheek.

  Eoin’s heart twisted. The lass was so fragile. He pulled her into his arms. “My God, Helen, I’m so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing by not sending a missive, but seeing you so distraught, I realize how mistaken I was.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do not ever do that to me again.”

  “I promise I will not.” He held her at arm’s length and wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. “But you are aware I am oft required on the king’s business. At times, such work can take me away for a month or more.”

  She nodded. “I hate to think of ever being without you.”

  He pulled her into his chest and cradled her head to his heart. “I know my love. I feel the same.”

  Taking in a staccato inhale, Helen leaned into him. “Once I am out of hiding, I must tell Duncan he cannot require you to spend so much time away from your home and your family.”

  Eoin liked the sound of that. At long last, he would have a family of his own—sharing his life with the woman of his dreams. “I daresay if anyone can persuade Duncan to her will, it is you.”

  Maggie blubbered behind them, like she was trying to talk.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “She’s awfully chatty.”

  “Aye, making new noises every day.” Helen started to pull away.

  Moving quickly, Eoin captured her face between his palms. “I’d feel so much better if you’d kiss me first.”

  Her eyes glistened with her smile. Yes, she might have been worried and angry, but sliding her hands around his waist and tugging him into her supple body, Eoin knew she loved him. Dipping his head, his lips met hers as her soft, sweet breath whooshed. When he held Helen Campbell in his arms, nothing in this world could deter him.

  As the kiss ended, she emitted a long sigh. “I need to finish the washing.”

  He inclined his head toward the bairn. “Let me say hello to Miss Maggie, then I’ll help you.”

  “I’m nearly done.”

  “’Tis good to hear, because I have other plans about what I want to do with you.” Eoin scooped Maggie into his arms and gave her a kiss on her chubby cheek. “And how are you, miss? Giving your mother strife?”

  The bairn threw her head back and laughed from her belly.

  Eoin couldn’t help but chuckle. “And you seem awfully happy about it, too.”

  “I think she’s missed you,” Helen said while raising her hem and resuming her stomping.

  He regarded the child now tugging at his shirt laces. “I missed you too.” Then he stared at Helen, her bare calves glistening with streaks of water. “Not a moment passed when you weren’t on my mind.”

  She looked up and smiled, her cheeks taking on a blush. “Will you be able to stay long?”

  “A sennight. If I remain away much longer, your brother will pronounce me dead and assume my lands due to my lack of an heir.”

  “He wouldn’t dream of pushing out Clan Gregor.”

  “Nay?”

  “Absolutely not.” Helen stepped out of the basin and rung out the linens.

  Eoin set Maggie on her blanket and stepped beside Helen. “I’ll dump the water.”

  She straightened and brushed off her hands. “I’d almost forgotten how nice it was to have a brawny knight in attendance.” Looking at her palms, she blew over them. “Though I’m rather proud of these new calluses.”

  Returning with the empty basin, he examined Helen’s hands. “Your palms look like they’ve been shredded.”

  She closed her fists. “’Tis not that bad.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Nothing more than fetching water…and cooking…and chopping wood. You ken, things a woman must do when fending for herself in the wild.”

  “God’s teeth, I should be here to do those things for you. The thought of your noble hands set to labor goes against every knightly code.”

  “You mustn’t look at it that way. I certainly do not.” She picked up Maggie and balanced the bairn on her hip. “I see it as my liberation from helpless lady to independence.”

  He placed his arm around them both and escorted them into the cottage. “It pleases me that your independence makes you happy…as long as you still need me.”

  Helen stretched up and kissed his cheek. “I will always need you, sir knight.”

  ***

  The sennight with Eoin flew past in a blur. Though half worried out of her mind, Helen couldn’t remain angry with her handsome knight. And having him to share the chores, gave them more time in the evenings after Maggie drifted off to sleep. She and Eoin shared tenderness so deep, she never could have guessed a man and a woman could harbor such powerful love.

  Now Eoin had but one night before he must leave again.

  After Maggie fell asleep for her midday nap, the sound of an ax chopping wood came from outside. Helen moved to the shutter and peered through the gap.

  In one fluid motion, Eoin swung the axe in an arc. With a crack, the log split on contact. Helen shook her head. She would have had to whack that big piece of wood four or five times to achieve the same result.

  He worked tirelessly to build up a pile of wood, every swing of his ax cutting deep. Stopping for a moment, he wiped his brow with his sleeve. Then he pulled his shirt over his head.

  Helen gasped and touched a hand to her chest. Autumn had begun to turn the leaves golden, and with it came cooler temperatures, though the perspiration glistening across Eoin’s skin testified to the exertion he made.

  As he resumed chopping, the muscles in his arms flexed like iron gauntlets. The sunlight highlighted the contours in his back, while every movement rippled with masculine vitality.

  A bead of sweat dripped from his hair and slid down his spine. He seemed not to notice, wielding his ax like a well-oiled machine. Simply by watching him, Helen worked up a thirst. She hastened to the bowl, doused a cloth with water, and then she poured two cups of watered wine and headed out the door.

  With a crack, wood splinters darted through the air.

  She inclined her head toward the wood stack. “Look at all you have accomplished, and in short order.”

  Eoin lowered his ax and turned. “I’ll not be having you chop another stick of wood, m’lady.”

  She handed him a cup. “You do take care of me.”

  He rested his ax on the woodheap and held up his watered wine. “’Tis a responsibility I embrace.”

  They tapped their wooden cups together and drank.

  “Mm,” Eoin said. “’Twas just what I needed to quell my thirst.”

  Helen licked her lips and stepped into him. She smoothed the damp cloth over his shoulders and chest. “Maggie’s asleep.”

  A deep chuckle rumbled through his throat and he slid his hand around her neck, plying her mouth with a kiss. “That sounds like a promise.”

  “Aye.” She chuckled. “I thought that might draw your attention.”

  He grasped her waist and pressed his hips ag
ainst hers. “Always.”

  Blessed desire gripped her nether parts as her passion inflamed. Helen shamelessly rocked her hips from side to side. “My, you have turned me into a wanton woman.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” His voice grew deeper with each word.

  She emitted a seductive hum. “Perhaps not when we’re alone.”

  Helen loved the look of desire on Eoin’s face when he gazed upon her with a fervent hunger through half-lidded eyes. Their bodies entwined while their lips joined in a languid dance. Warm and enticing, his mouth invited her to sail uncharted waters with him, and after a sennight of passion, Helen’s excitement grew. Every blessed joining brought a new adventure.

  Eoin’s hand slid down her thigh and grasped her skirts. Her heart fluttered. Would he take her there, outside with a cold breeze caressing their skin? Anticipation of a new path to pleasure heightened her hunger.

  Helen slipped her fingers into the top of his breeks and pulled on the cord holding them up.

  An infant’s cry squealed from inside the cottage.

  Eoin touched his forehead to hers and chuckled. “It appears we timed things a bit late.”

  Helen took in a ragged breath. “Will you remember where we are until we’re alone this eve?”

  He nuzzled against her ear. “I’ll be thinking of it every moment until then.”

  Maggie’s cries rose until they bordered on panic-stricken.

  Helen gave him one last kiss. “Then I shall hold you to it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  At long last the king had decided to deploy his forces—not a few galleys at a time to quell skirmishes, but the entire armada King James had amassed set sail on course to capture Alexander MacDonald once and for all. It was a chilly October day when Eoin stood manning the tiller of his galley, wearing his helm and hauberk. He and Aleck MacIain flanked each side of the V formation, with Duncan’s three galleys taking the lead, followed by five of the king’s royal galleys.