As he’d remembered from his years at Kilchurn Castle, Helen had a magical talent with the lute.
She sat on a stool and tuned her instrument. While Eoin watched, he tried to recall her age. If he remembered correctly, she was seven years his younger. That would make her five and twenty—still young and certainly able to produce an heir for MacIain several times over.
Taking in a deep breath, Helen began to strum a familiar tune, a ballad he could accompany her with on the pipes. The music floated on the air as if carried on butterfly wings. Aye, her proficiency rivaled the king’s minstrels. And when she opened her mouth, her voice was soft, though clear as a lark. But it held a sultry sadness Eoin hadn’t remembered.
A buxom woman climbed the dais stairs, clutching a flagon. She had a handsome face and ample hips made for child-bearing. She grinned at Aleck. Eoin had seen that look on a woman’s face many times before. There was no mistaking what she had on her mind as she sauntered around the table. Aleck slapped her bottom, then held his hand there.
Eoin looked to Helen. Her tone had grown softer. The lady shifted upon her stool and projected her song out to the hall. The crowd listened appreciatively, but all eyes were on the chieftain. With Helen’s back now turned, MacIain pulled the woman onto his lap.
Eoin stared, mouth agape while Aleck devoured the wench with a lascivious kiss that made no bones about his intentions.
Lady Helen’s voice trembled as if she had eyes in the back of her head.
“I’ll see you anon.” Aleck lifted the woman from his lap and gave her a hearty smack on the behind. She giggled and flashed a cheeky smile as she scurried away.
Any misgivings Eoin had about Helen’s happiness were now amplified ten times over. Aleck MacIain had not only taken a leman, he was openly demonstrative about it. No wonder Helen’s voice sounded woeful.
The lady finished the tune with a strum that made chills run up Eoin’s spine. She smiled and bowed her head to Aleck and then to Eoin. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must bid goodnight to Miss Maggie.”
Her husband dismissed her with another flick of his wrist.
Eoin stood and hastened after her. “Lady Helen.”
She stopped before descending the dais steps, staring at the floor.
“Thank you.” Eoin reached for her elbow, but snatched his hand away before he touched her. Such a gesture might be seen as unseemly. “I enjoyed listening to your performance. It brought back fond memories.” He gulped. Satan’s bones, he sounded like a milksop. If only he could speak to her without an audience and enquire as to her happiness.
She emitted a chuckle that had an edge to it. “Memories of a fairytale life from long ago.” She dipped her head. “Please excuse me.”
He bowed. “M’lady.”
Eoin glanced to the table. MacIain had turned his attention to the man sitting to his right—completely unperturbed that Eoin had ventured to speak to his wife. I’ve had enough. He bowed because that was what was expected of any knight when taking his leave. “If you would pardon me, I’ve things to attend.”
He didn’t wait to see if Aleck acknowledged him or not. After watching this eve’s twisted state of affairs unfold, Eoin needed air. God, how he wanted to climb into his galley and sail back to Argyllshire. Eoin had never hoped for a battle before, but he wished the MacDonalds were planning something rash so he could chase them up and down the western coast of Scotland—anything to take him away from Mingary Castle and its quagmire of shite.
Helen hastened to the nursery while she bit back her urge to cry. Her mortification had been exacerbated by Eoin’s presence in the great hall. It was bad enough for Aleck to be openly brazen when amongst their clansmen and women, but her husband’s actions this night were deplorable. She pushed through the nursery door.
Sarah looked up and smiled.
Taking a deep breath, Helen quickly regained her composure. “Good eve. How is my darling?”
The nursemaid gathered Maggie in her arms. Helen still hadn’t grown accustomed to seeing her bairn cared for by another, but Sarah was the ideal nursemaid. She never left Maggie unattended or wanting for anything. “I was just about to put her down for the night, m’lady.” She held the bairn out.
Helen gathered the wee bundle in her arms. “Have you eaten, Miss Sarah?”
“Not yet.”
“Go on now, I’ll care for Maggie.”
She curtseyed. “Thank you, m’lady.”
After the door closed, Helen carried the bairn to the rocker. “Have you been giving Miss Sarah any difficulty?”
Maggie gave a gummy grin.
“I’m sure you have. ’Tis your duty to make a fuss.”
The wee lass squealed.
“That’s exactly what I say. Do you remember when I told you an old friend had come to Mingary?” Helen arched her brow expectantly. Thank heavens Maggie hadn’t a clue what she was saying. “Sir Eoin, to my surprise, hasn’t lost his manners. If anything he’s become more chivalrous.” She turned her head away. “And decidedly more handsome than I’d remembered.”
Helen rocked the babe for a while and hummed, losing herself in her thoughts. Maggie’s eyelids grew heavy, yet Helen continued to rock rather than place the bairn in her cradle.
“I loathe being embarrassed in front of the clan—and now outsiders. If only I could stay in the nursery with you. Nothing in the world seems to matter when one is inside a nursery.” Helen chuckled. “Can I stay in here at least until Sir Eoin and his men take their leave?” She glanced down at Maggie’s face. Her eyes were closed now, her wee mouth slightly open. In slumber she looked like an angel from heaven.
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.”