The Saint (27 page)

She blinked, as if that would make her be able to see better. There were so many shadows.

She jumped at a rustling toss of leaves behind her. And so many noises.

She was being silly. There was nothing to be scared of—

She yelped when something darted across the path in front of her. A squirrel. At least she hoped it was a squirrel and not a rat.
Oh God
. She ran her hands over her arms; her flesh had started to crawl.

She hurried her step, stumbling forward when her foot landed awkwardly on a rock. She went down hard, crying out when her hands made harsh contact with the forest floor. Her chin followed a moment later.

Stunned, the breath jarred from her lungs, it took her a moment to realize she was all right. After brushing herself off as best she could, she stood. Her ankle was tender, but fortunately, she was able to walk.

Feeling more than a little foolish, she proceeded at a far more cautious pace and did her best to ignore her scary surroundings.

Her heart didn’t stop beating at a frantic pace, however, until the first glimpse of the castle gates came into view. She frowned, noticing the unusual number of torches, and, from the number of voices coming from within, an unusual amount of activity.

It wasn’t until the cry went out when she came into view, however, that she felt the first prickle of trepidation. A
prickle that turned to a full-fledged stab when a handful of men came rushing out of the gate.

She wasn’t surprised to see her brothers; she was, however, surprised to see Magnus in the lead. For once the lifelong enemies appeared to be presenting a unified front. If she weren’t the cause of that unity, she might have savored the moment she’d despaired of ever seeing.

She bit her lip, catching a glimpse of Magnus’s expression in the flickering torchlight. She suspected it was only the presence of her brothers that prevented him from grabbing her by the shoulders and …

She couldn’t tell. He looked angry enough to shake her and worried enough to haul her into his arms.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.

The fact that none of her brothers objected to the blasphemy wasn’t a good sign. Indeed, Will appeared to take no issue with it at all. “Damn it, Helen, we were just about to send a search party out for you.”

“A search party? Surely that’s rather extreme. This is not the first time I’ve been gone for hours tending to one of the clansmen.”

Will’s mouth thinned. “Aye, but you were always with Muriel.”

She gave him a look as if to say,
and whose fault is it that I am not?

“MacKay insisted. He thought you might be in danger,” Kenneth added.

Helen glanced back at Magnus, perversely pleased to hear the overreaction had been his. Had he been worried about her? He must have guessed her thoughts, because his eyes narrowed dangerously. The smile playing about her lips fell.

“I was only at the fletcher’s. His son fell from a tree and broke his arm,” she explained, Magnus’s impatient glare—reminiscent of the “wayward lamb” look her brothers had perfected—making her feel more than a little defensive.

“The fletcher?” Donald interjected, aghast. “He lives at least five miles away!” He turned to Will. “I warned you this was not a good idea.”

Will’s gaze narrowed on his henchman. Donald had overstepped his bounds. An earl did not take criticism from one of his men. “Return to the castle, Munro. Inform the king that Lady Helen has been found. We will attend him in the Hall in a few moments.”

After his initial question, Magnus had remained suspiciously silent during the exchange with her brother. “The king wishes to see you. When you could not be found, we became concerned. The countryside is not a place for women alone. Did you tell no one where you were going?”

Helen thought back, ashamed to realize she hadn’t. She’d been in the garden when the fletcher arrived and had simply gone to her room to retrieve a few items before leaving. She hadn’t thought …

“I’m sorry. I was in a hurry. I didn’t think—”

“You’re hurt!” Magnus cut her off. “Damn it, what happened to your chin?” This time her brothers’ presence wasn’t enough to stop him from touching her. The back of his finger grazed her jaw, tilting her head back to the light.

“It’s nothing.” She shied from his scrutiny, embarrassed. “A little stumble, that’s all.”

She hoped it was the torchlight making his face look red, but his clenched jaw rather suggested he was angry again. Had she really wanted to see more emotion from him? She was beginning to miss the even-tempered Magnus.

She took care to hide her hands in her skirts, but his narrowed glance toward her fists told her he suspected there was more.

Anxious to escape his scrutiny, she turned to her brothers. “I shall need a moment to freshen up. Please tell the king I shall attend him in a few moments.”

She spun away before they could respond. But she’d forgotten
about her ankle. The swift movement sent a knife of pain up her leg, making her cry out. She would have stumbled again had Magnus not caught her.

She gasped at the contact. Their eyes held. For a moment, the memories of the night before flooded her. A slight tightening of his hold told her he remembered, too.

“Damn it, Helen.”

It wasn’t the most romantic declaration she’d ever heard, but the look in his eyes and gruffness of his tone more than made up for it. He was concerned. He did care about her. It was another chink in the armor of his resistance. Emotion swelled in her chest.

She was prevented from savoring the moment, however, by her brother. Kenneth nearly twisted her other ankle in his eagerness to tear her from Magnus’s gasp. “Get your hands off her!”

Apparently, the moment of unity was over.

Helen had had more than enough of her brothers’ constant interfering. She spun on Kenneth and snapped, “He was only helping me. I would have fallen had he not caught me. If it hasn’t escaped your notice, I seem to have twisted my ankle. Now, if you are done treating me like a bone to fight over, I’m going to my chamber.”

If she weren’t so angry, the men’s unanimous look of shock might have made her laugh.

Her ankle prevented her from stomping off, but it was definitely implied.

In less than half an hour, Helen had washed her face and hands free of dirt and debris, bound her ankle in a cloth, changed her gown, and made her way back down to the Great Hall.

She felt a flutter of nerves, anxious to hear what the king had decided. The circumstances of her return had prevented her from gauging Magnus’s reaction.

The tables in the Hall had been cleared for the men to
sleep, so Helen wasn’t surprised to be ushered into her brother’s solar. She was, however, surprised to see who was waiting for her.

He stood guard at the door. Something about the way he was leaning with his arms folded across his chest made her pulse stutter. The deceptively lazy stance didn’t fool her. He was furious. But what for: last night, joining their progress, or her late return?

He appeared not to notice her until she tried to pass him, and he moved to block her. Normally, she would very much like the sensations that came with having that broad chest so near, but the fury emanating from him was setting off rather loud warning bells.

She ventured a glance up at him from under her lashes and bit her lip. Not good. Not good at all.

“Excuse me,” she said chirpily, trying to hide her nervousness. “The king is waiting for me.”

He wasn’t fooled. He leaned closer, trying to intimidate her with his size. It was appallingly effective. He towered over her, and outweighed her at least two times over. It was clear she wasn’t going anywhere until he wanted her to.

“Aye, but we haven’t finished talking about your wee excursion today.”

The late return
. At least she knew which of her many transgressions had angered him this time.

She lifted her chin, refusing to be bullied by yet another overprotective male. “I apologize if I caused you any trouble, but I assure you there was nothing to worry about. Besides, I hardly see what concern it could be of yours.”

His mouth thinned. “Don’t press me, Helen. I’m not in the mood for games. You will not go anywhere from now on without a proper escort. Do you understand? I’ll not have you in danger.”

She definitely didn’t like his tone. “Danger? Don’t you think you are overreacting just a bit? And you are not my
brother or my
husband;
you have no right to order me about.”

She would have flounced past him, but he caught her arm. She could feel the warm imprint of his fingers seeping through her gown.

He acted as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll have your promise, Helen. You will not go anywhere alone.”

One look at his face and she knew he would not be denied. She gazed into the impenetrable mask, wondering what this was truly about. Had she worried him that much? “This is that important to you?”

“It is.”

The fight seeped out of her. She might not like the way he’d gone about issuing his edicts, but she warmed to the sentiment behind it. “Very well. I promise.”

He nodded and let her go, standing back so she could go inside. He waited for her to pass by him before he whispered, “And Helen, there is still the matter of a certain rash to discuss.”

Her step faltered. She winced, a guilty flush staining her cheeks. He’d found out about that, had he? She was not deceived by his light tone. She knew there would be the devil to pay for that later.

The talking stopped when she entered the room, but she could see from the men’s expressions that she’d entered in the midst of a heated discussion.

Will, in particular, looked furious, though he was doing his best not to show it.

“Ah, Lady Helen.” The king rose to greet her, ever the knight. “I heard you had a bit of a mishap—I hope you are all right?”

Magnus closed the door behind her and moved around to take his position beside the king.

“Perfectly fine, Sire. I would not be much of a healer if I could not tend to a few scrapes and a twisted ankle.”

She’d given him the opening, hoping he’d take it, and he
did so with a broad smile. “It is your healing skills that we were just discussing. I’ve expressed to your brother my desire to have you join our progress across the Highlands. I fear I’ve come to depend on you quite shamefully.”

“I’m honored, Your Grace.” Helen beamed. It had worked! Her plan had worked!

She chanced a glance at Magnus, but his stony countenance gave no hint of his thoughts on the subject. Yet she couldn’t believe he’d gone along with this willingly. He’d made no secret of his eagerness to be rid of her.

Will’s thoughts as he addressed her, however, were far more obvious. “We are indeed honored, but as your brother and laird, I am of course concerned about your safety.” He turned to the king. “Helen is not a healer; she is a gently reared lady who has been gracious enough to help our clan until another healer can be found.”

The king smiled. “Your sister’s position is not in doubt. She will be my guest, not my servant. I understand your concern, but I assure you she will be well looked after and protected as if she were my own sister, which I hope she will be soon enough.”

Will’s gaze slid to Magnus and his mouth tightened, as if he suspected exactly who would be protecting her.

“Of course,” the king conceded, “I can understand if you would like to send some of your men along as guardsmen. Perhaps your brother would care to join our party as well?”

Helen’s gaze flew to Magnus, but his lack of reaction told her he probably knew of the king’s suggestion to include Kenneth ahead of time. She scrunched her nose, not pleased by the new wrinkle in her plan. Having Kenneth along was certainly less than ideal, but she supposed the fact that she was going at all was what mattered. Besides, she couldn’t help but feel proud for her brother, who was obviously pleased to have caught the king’s attention.

But Will was being backed into a corner and didn’t like it. It was clear he didn’t want her to go, but also didn’t
want to outright refuse the king to whom he’d just pledged his loyalty. He had to tread very carefully. “Additional men would relieve some of my concern.”

“I would be honored to protect Lady Helen,” Donald volunteered.

This time Magnus couldn’t completely hide his reaction. His jaw clenched as if he were grinding his teeth hard—very hard. Helen felt much the same. Kenneth
and
Donald, saints preserve her!

Will shook his head. Helen knew that look. She could see her chance slipping away. Her stubborn brother was going to ruin everything and jeopardize his standing with the king. “I’m afraid I can’t—”

“Perhaps I might speak to my brother, Sire?” Helen said, cutting him off before he could finish.

“Of course,” the king said, standing from his chair. “It’s getting late. I believe I shall retire for the evening and hear your answer in the morning,” he added to Will. “But I would consider it a personal favor, Sir William, were you to agree to my request.”

With that less-than-subtle admonition, the king left the solar, his men following behind him. Helen held her breath as Magnus walked by and caught her eye. A nervous flush rose to her cheeks. From the look on his face, she knew there was still a reckoning to come.

Kenneth hadn’t missed the exchange. He turned to Will. “You have to find an excuse. You can’t let her go. Not with him—”

Helen interrupted. “I have every intention of going with him, Kenneth. Your concern about Magnus is misplaced. He wants nothing to do with me.”

“And I intend to see it stays that way,” he said.

“If you could look beyond the feud for one blessed moment, you would see that you have nothing to worry about.” She turned to Will. “I hope I shall have your blessing, Will.”

“But you will go without it?”

She didn’t want to challenge his authority if she didn’t have to. She had no power. They both knew that. Just as they also both knew that if he reminded her of that, it would never be the same between them. “You cannot refuse the king, Will. Surely you can see that?”

“The lass is right,” Donald said. “Bruce has left you little choice in the matter. If you refuse, he will consider it a personal slight. It is in the best interest of the clan to let her go. You can use it as an opportunity to improve the clan’s standing in his new government.”