As he descended, Helen’s stuttered breaths 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?
“It will never be all right.” Her voice was as bitter as bile.
Not once had Eoin ever heard such defeat come from another living soul. His tongue twisted—spewing curses about Aleck MacIain wouldn’t help the lady. If he hadn’t witnessed the bastard’s behavior last eve, he never would have believed a woman as genteel as Helen could be so openly scorned by a man who had taken a solemn marriage vow to love and protect his wife. But to see the lady battered made Eoin want to march into the keep and show Aleck MacIain exactly what it was like to take a beating.
He bowed his chin to Helen’s silken tresses and kissed the top of her head. “I do not take kindly to any man who strikes a woman, no matter the cause.”
She sighed deeply and shook her head. “I suppose I deserved his ire.”
He blinked. “Why on earth would you say that?”
“I tried to confront him about Mary and asked…”
When she stopped herself, curiosity needled at the back of his neck. “What did you ask?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’ll never allow me to leave Mingary. And I cannot flee without my daughter.”
Eoin pursed his lips. He’d want to run too—had he been in Helen’s position. “Aye, you’ve a bairn who needs you.”
She leaned into him, her hands clutched under her chin. “I fear more for Maggie than for myself.”
Eoin’s gut roiled. “Don’t tell me he’s turned his hand against the wee lass.”
“Nay, but he plans to make an alliance with her marriage—far before she’s ready.” Helen tensed in his arms. “I swear on my father’s grave, I’ll not see her in a miserable marriage. ’Tis no life without happiness.”
Heaven help him, the woefulness in her voice tore his heart to shreds. “No, lass. It is not.”
Helen’s breathing grew steadier, but she remained nestled into him as if afraid to let go. Eoin’s heart swelled. Lady Helen needed someone to care for her—to stand up for her. Whom could he appoint? By the end of summer he would return to his clan and then he’d be of no use to her at all. But holy Mother Mary, it had been a long time since he’d wrapped his arms around a woman—even longer since he’d embraced a lass without seeking a kiss.
She seemed content to remain in his arms for a time. Oddly, Eoin could think of no other place he should be presently. There were probably a host of things requiring his attention, but his mind blanked. Only Lady Helen filled his senses as his rocking motion brought on a peacefulness he hadn’t a mind to end.
He thought back to the years he’d spent as a squire at Kilchurn Castle. Helen had been such a darling child, but he was older—seven years was a great deal to a young lad. He’d never thought of her romantically until…hmm…she must have been about ten and five the first time I realized she was stunning. Though I wanted to, I couldn’t do much about my desires at the time. Even at two and twenty I was still trying to earn my place as a knight.
He smiled at the memories his thoughts rekindled. Helen wasn’t as tall as Gyllis, her elder sister by one year. She was fairer and more fine-boned—quieter, but by the intelligence reflected in her eyes, Helen was aware of everything that happened around her. He chuckled.
Helen pulled away a little. “Why are you laughing?”
Eoin didn’t want to release her yet. He smoothed his hand along her outer arm, akin to comforting a fond pet, and she eased back against him. “Do you remember the time your mother blamed you and your sisters for pinching the Yule log?”
She tapped her fingers to her mouth and blew out a burst of air—not a laugh, but almost. “Aye—why on earth would you remember that?”
“Duncan and I used it the night before for a bonfire—sort of a rite of passage ceremony we dreamed up.” He inclined his cheek against her hair. “We didn’t realize what we’d done until the next day. Holy Moses, your mother was furious.”
“And you allowed her to believe we girls took it?”
Eoin absently smoothed his hand over her tresses. “Duncan made me swear a vow of silence—said we’d not eat a decent meal in a month if Lady Margaret discovered we’d used her masterpiece.”
“Do you realize that without a guard, Ma took us into the forest—whilst it was snowing, mind you—and each of us chopped until blisters formed. Then she made us drag the heavy thing all the way back to the keep.”
Eoin grimaced. He hadn’t been aware of the severity of their punishment. “I’m sorry we made you go to so much trouble. I never should have kept mum.”
Helen turned her face up to him. “And go against your vow to my brother?”
God in heaven, he’d never realized her eyes were so incredibly blue. “That would have caused some consternation,” Eoin said, his voice husky.
“I’ll say.” Helen smiled, ever so innocently. “Knowing Duncan, he still wouldn’t have forgiven you to this day.”