“Keith MacKay is verra pleasant to talk to,” Helen said. “And so is Magnus and Ross…”
Jamie set his drinking vessel on the table with some force. “It seems ye leave me with little choice, Helen Sutherland.”
“What do ye mean?” she asked innocently.
Jamie stood and offered her his hand. “If I doona dance with ye, all ye’ll remember about tonight is all of them.”
Nothing could be further from the truth. The women had warned her that Jamie dinna dance. And because she wanted to enjoy herself, she decided to dance until she couldna stay on her feet any more. Regrettably, it wasna her feet failing her at the moment, but her head. She realized she’d drunk too much wine.
“Jamie. If ye spin me too quick, I’m afraid I will fall over.”
He laughed. “Aye? Well, perhaps some fresh air would be better.” Hoping she’d go with him, Jamie met Miran’s watchful gaze. The maid always seemed to be less than a stride behind Lady Helen, probably doing exactly what Alex had commanded her to do.
“A walk? In the snow?”
“Ye love the cold.”
“I do,” she confirmed.
“Jamie,” Keely said. “Maybe Lady Helen should go abovestairs?”
“Nay.” Helen reached for a piece of bread, and then took a hearty bite. “Doona worry about me, Keely. Master Jamie willna let anyone harm me, will ye?”
His familiar smirk returned. “Rest assured, the only threat to ye in this keep is me.”
Now Helen knew she wasna thinking clearly, for his words thrilled her in a dangerous way, a forbidden way. She wanted another kiss. She wanted to run her fingertips over the contours of his strong body, to breathe in his masculine scent, hear his breathy whispers in her ear, and feel his excitement. She closed her eyes tight, remembering what she thought she had felt at the loch when she was sitting on Jamie’s lap. God forgive her.
“Lass?” Jamie asked, his voice tinged with worry. “Are ye unwell?”
“Nay.” She opened her eyes and focused on his face. “Memories, nothing more.”
“Pleasant ones, I hope.”
Her skin prickled with need. “Verra.”
“Then do ye accept my invitation for a walk?”
She felt suddenly sober and aware of what he was asking. The walk dinna matter to him. He wanted the same as her, to find another fleeting moment to escape to a private place together. And Helen would be damned if anyone robbed her of that chance. After all, it could be their last meeting. “Aye.” She stood and faced Keely. “Thank ye for letting me be a part of the bairns’ lives, yer life.”
“Go,” Keely encouraged her friend. “Take advantage of the time ye have, while everyone is celebrating and not watching.”
Helen kissed her cheeks with the deepest affection, then followed Jamie through the crowded hall, headed for the main doors.
Chapter Eighteen
Once they escaped the confines of the hall and Jamie knew that Miran wasn’t trailing behind them, instead of leaving the keep, he steered Helen through the antechamber, out a small door, and down a narrow passageway that opened into the buttery and several other storage rooms. He randomly picked one and opened the door, gently pushing her inside, and closing the door behind them.
He could smell herbs and eyed the barrels and other containers within the small space. Several sconces with lit candles provided enough light to see. A couple of chairs were arranged in the corner, a place for the women to sit who sorted and dried the herbs for the household. He could have chosen a worse hiding spot. The surroundings dinna matter; only she did.
He gazed at her, noticing her wide, blue eyes, her quivering lips, the need on her face. How would he feel standing in her shoes? A stranger in his home, no family to protect her, nothing familiar. And to make her situation even more complicated, an inexperienced maiden who only Jamie had kissed.
The answer came quickly. But not a humble one.
“Why are ye smiling like that?” she asked.
God’s bones, he couldna hide his pride. “I was thinking about ye and how it must feel to be away from home and here alone with me.”
“Aye? And what have ye concluded?”
“If I were ye, Helen of the Highlands, I’d fall in love with me, too.”
She ventured a sideways glance at him, quiet at first, as still as a winter night. Then, suddenly, she laughed so hard she had to sit and hug herself.
Jamie dinna see anything funny about what he had said. He frowned. “This is my reward for being honest with ye?”
Little by little she calmed down, until only a little gasp of breath escaped her lips. “I-I… Ye made me laugh harder than I ever have. Ye are the most arrogant rogue I have ever met, Jamie MacKay. Ye strut about this keep like a rooster surrounded by a flock of wanton hens.”
“A rooster?”
“Aye. With a red crown.”
Jamie smoothed a hand over his hair. “Ye doona like my red hair?”
She rolled her eyes. “Tis a part of ye.”
“What are ye saying to me, Helen?” He moved closer.
“Can ye nay figure it out? With yer abundant experiences with women? All the places ye’ve visited? All the men ye’ve fought and killed?”
Jamie knelt in front of her. “Is that what ye see me as?”
“I see what ye are in this moment. A man as afraid of what he feels as I am of what I feel. There is no difference between us—even if ye had bedded a queen in Constantinople, she couldna have touched yer heart as I have.”
Struck by her confidence and understanding, he simply gazed up at her in awe. This maiden had indeed brought him to his sinner’s knees. But he wouldna seek redemption yet, for he wanted to sin even more with her. To stare at her forever, to memorize everything about her beautiful face, to know what her future dreams were, and to set about making them all come true.
Jamie curled a finger under her chin and tilted her head from left to right. The candlelight illuminated her fair skin in the most appealing way. And her mane of gold-spun hair—this was the first time he’d seen it’s full length. It cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. He couldna resist the impulse to touch it and chose a curly tendril near her cheek. “Bòidheach,” he whispered. More beautiful than the Rionnag Tuath or the deep-blue sea bordering the desert oasis of Constantinople.
“No man has ever called me beautiful before.” A single tear trailed down her cheek. He moved to catch it, but she blocked his hand. “Nay. I doona cry out of hurt but for joy.” She wiped the tear away on her own. “After my mother died, many women came and went who were tasked with tutoring me—some kind, some cruel. All taught me modesty, to never stare too long in the looking glass to avoid ending up a vain woman that no respectable man would want to marry.”
“Fools,” he said, caressing her cheek.
“Would ye rather me doubt the sincerity of yer praise or receive it as ye would—puffed up like a wee rooster?”
Jamie snorted, and then they both laughed.
He cradled her hands in his. “I owe ye an apology for going away without explanation.”
She appeared to weigh his words. “Why did ye leave?”
“There is something special between us, Helen. I canna say with certainty what it is or how long it will last, but I know my life will never be the same for it. Tis a hard thing for a man like me to admit. So instead of facing it, I decided to try and outrun it.”
“Did it work?”
“Not a damn bit.” He let go of her hands, raising her right wrist to his lips, kissing the inside of it, tasting the tender flesh.
She released a small moan from deep within her throat. So, he tested the depth of her passion by blazing a trail of feather-light kisses up her arm. She shivered and leaned forward in the chair.
“Jamie,” she breathed.
“Aye?” He dinna want to stop kissing and touching her.
“My body…”
“What, lass?”
Her eyelashes fluttere
d and she gazed down at him. “Is this the rare gift a man and woman share?”
“It’s passion, Helen—a very special gift, indeed.”
“I doona like how it makes me feel inside.”
“Nay? Inside here?” He pointed to her head.
She rewarded his foolishness with a half-smile. “Nay, not my head.”
“Here?” He placed his hand over her heart and felt the thumping against her chest. Was she afraid of being alone with him? “What about here?” This time, he nudged her knees apart and lifted the hem of her gown to reveal her slim legs.
Helen’s eyes squeezed shut as she eased back in the chair.
“Lass?”
“Aye,” she whispered. “Ye know the answer, Jamie.”
And he did. Temptation wielded a superior sword to Jamie’s resolve. He knew if he just lifted the skirt a wee bit higher, he’d see paradise. He imagined a crown of golden curls and folds of soft, wet flesh. He could take her now. Love her until morning’s light, then quickly get her abovestairs before anyone noticed she was missing. Hadn’t Keely given her approval? Alex, even?
Christ above! Jamie lowered her skirt and instead, gripped her by the hips and tugged her downward and onto his lap. She straddled him, and he placed a hand at the back of her neck, pulling her face level with his.
“Kiss me, Helen.”
She slanted her mouth over his, giving him exactly what he wanted. Her silky tongue tangled with his, and he deepened the kiss. If this was all they were ever to share, he’d make damn sure she never forgot him. In fact, he wanted to burn the image of them together into her memory. Who would she think about when Baran Munroe claimed her maidenhead…
Filled with jealousy, Jamie growled and flipped Helen underneath him. He hovered above her, unable to hide his excitement. She stared with utter fascination at the tent his erection made in his tartan.
“Are ye in pain?” She started to reach for him but thought better of it and lowered her hand.
“Aye, in a way.”
“Is there anything I can do to help ye?”
“Helen…” He said her name several times. The only relief would come if he could sink his length inside her and make her his. He dipped low and captured her perfect lips, his tongue seeking sweet sanctuary in her mouth. He kissed her long and hard until they were both breathless.
Then, unable to resist, he cupped her breast, finding firm flesh and a hard nipple through the delicate material of her gown. She had full breasts, the kind that would fill his big hands. He cupped the other, squeezing gently and kissing her at the same time. She writhed beneath him, her tiny moans and breathless noises making him harder and more of a beast.
Enough! he told himself. She deserved better than being bedded on a dirt-packed floor. He slowly broke the kiss, climbed off her, then pulled her up. “I’m starting to think keeping Miran with ye is the best choice.”
She smiled and wiped the dirt from the back of her gown.
“Let me help ye.” He turned her around and smoothed the wrinkles from her skirts, admiring the curve of her back and the shape of her lovely arse. Aye, Helen Sutherland was a fine lady in all the right places.
A soft knock sounded and Jamie cursed as he showed Helen where to hide before he opened the door. To his surprise, Miran was in the passageway.
“Master Jamie, tis time for me to take Lady Helen to her chamber. Laird Alex is looking for ye and her. Lady Keely told him she drank too much wine. But as for ye…”
He nodded with appreciation. “Helen.”
She appeared from behind a row of crates. “Aye?”
“Go with Miran, please.”
Before she left, he kissed her lips. “This is only the beginning.”
*
Jamie returned to the great hall alone. Only the men were left, half of them passed out on the benches or sprawled on the floor. He stepped over numerous bodies and made it to the high table where Alex sat with Mathe and Petro.
Jamie scowled at Mathe. They still hadna made peace with each other. “Alex?” He bowed.
“Cousin,” Alex slurred. “Come. Sit with us. Mathe, move down a chair, give Jamie his rightful place.”
Jamie knew it was wrong to hold a grudge against his kinsman, but Mathe had rubbed him raw over the last year with his incessant complaints. And even after Alex ordered him to move, he dinna budge from his spot.
“Mathe?” Alex said.
“Why do ye give him the honor of being yer right hand when he has ambitions to form his own branch of the MacKay clan?”
It took a long moment for the old man’s words to sink in. But then Jamie reached across the table and grabbed a fistful of Mathe’s shirt. He yanked him halfway over the table before Alex slammed his fist down.
“Let him go, Jamie.”
Anger filled every empty space inside Jamie’s soul. Where had Mathe gotten his information? From Crannog? Kuresh? Or one of his loose-lipped maids? “He deserves a beating, Alex.”
“Maybe.”
“He speaks without proof.”
“Does he?” Alex eyed Jamie. “Is there any truth in what he says?”
Jamie stared at Mathe with a newly formed hatred, then dropped him. Mathe sputtered and lifted himself off the table, straightening his ruined tunic as he slid down three chairs.
“Answer my question, Jamie.”
“There’s been talk, nothing more.”
“Sit,” Alex commanded.
Jamie had no right to deny his laird. He did as he was told, walking around the table and sitting beside his cousin in shame.
“I am not blind, Jamie.”
“I know.”
“Nor am I an unreasonable man.”
“I know.”
“Tell him, Petro,” Alex addressed his secretary.
“Laird Alex,” Petro said. “You are tired, and I am sure Lady Keely would like to spend some time with you tonight.”
“Always the peacemaker.” Alex waved his friend off. “Jamie … speak plainly with me.”
“Tis not the time or place for this conversation, Alex.”
“I am laird here!” Alex rarely shouted, but when he did, people ran for cover. “I will decide where and when we speak. Betrayal is a serious allegation.”
Is that what his cousin really thought, that he’d betray him? It broke Jamie’s heart to think so. “I am not a criminal nor a betrayer of any kind. I would die for ye, Alex.”
“Would ye?”
How many times had he proven his loyalty? Actions spoke louder than words, and Jamie had done nothing to form a new branch of the clan. “Aye.” Jamie bowed his head in reverence.
“Do ye wish to break away from this clan and form yer own branch of MacKays?”
“My father always wished it, and yer sire, my beloved uncle, promised that one day, after this keep had been completed, he would give my home back to us so my father could build his own clan.”
Alex rubbed his stubbled chin. “Ye speak truthfully. I remember hearing it.”
“Men often make promises they intend to break.”
“Not my sire, and not me.”
Jamie poured himself a serving of ale. “Ye shouldna have found out like this!” he shouted so Mathe would hear. “I’d like to know where Mathe heard this rumor.”
“Mathe is bedding one of yer maids.”
Jamie shot up from his chair, headed for Mathe. But Alex latched onto his tartan.
“Sit down.”
“Which maid?” Jamie demanded.
“Struanna,” Mathe said.
“The toothless wench from the kitchens?” Jamie asked, realizing Mathe had been the one hiding behind the curtains the night he had returned home and was talking with his captain. “What man in his right mind would bed her? She’s as old and haggard as the hills.”
Alex bellowed with laughter.
“She may nay be much to look at,” Mathe said. “But she will never stray, and she sews the finest tunics.”
Jamie shook his head
. Everyone deserves a chance at happiness, including Mathe and Struanna. Knowing he couldna employ her anymore, he said, “Ye will marry the woman and bring her to live here.”
Mathe held up his hands. “I dinna say I wanted to marry her.”
“If ye can plow in her field,” Alex said. “Then ye will marry her.”
Jamie laughed into his ale. Finally, a way to get back at Mathe without lopping his bloody head off. Saddling him with Struanna as a wife pleased him very much.
“And what are ye so happy about?” Alex asked seriously. “Ye have disappointed me greatly, Cousin. And it will take much to repair the trust between us.”
“Ye canna hold my father’s aspirations against me. Ye acknowledged hearing about it.”
“Tis the way ye went about it that disturbs me. Secretly discussing it with yer men but not me. If I were any other laird…”
“Ye’d kill me?”
“I could, and no one would say anything against it.”
Jamie immediately stood and loosened his tunic collar, revealing his neck. “If ye think of me as a usurper, end my life now. I doona wish to live another day without yer trust and respect.”
Their gazes locked.
Jamie wasna merely testing his cousin’s resolve. He’d rather die than live outside Alex’s grace. He meant that much to Jamie. All of the clan did. He gazed about the great hall; so many memories had been built there. He’d learned to fight in the bailey, had his first kiss by the hearth across the chamber, gotten into his first fight at the lower tables, and was voted in as a council member… “Ye are my brother and laird, Alex.”
“Am I?” Alex waved him away. “Ye will await my thoughts on this matter.”
Chapter Nineteen
A week later while Helen and Jamie were taking a walk by the loch, Petro and Miran with them, a maid from the kitchens arrived out of breath.
“What is it, Tavia?” Jamie asked. “Is Laird Alex safe? Keely?”
“Aye,” she answered. “The laird has summoned ye, Master Jamie. It’s of great importance. Strangers have arrived from Constantinople.”
Helen looked at him. “Perhaps friends have made a long journey to see ye?”
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