Undeniable Read online

  “It seems I have nay choice.”

  “All right,” Alex said. “Petro?”

  “Milord?”

  “Are ye willing to help Lady Helen with her missive to the Earl of Sutherland?”

  Petro nodded at Alex, then faced Helen. “I would be honored to assist you, Lady Helen.”

  “Then it is decided.” Alex stood and stretched. “I will leave the two of ye alone. As for my wife…” He joined Keely and hooked an arm around her slim waist. “I believe we should take some fresh air together.”

  “Alex,” Keely said. “Send for Miran first. Lady Helen shouldna be left alone with a man in yer solar.”

  “Aye.” He walked to the solar door and opened it. A guard bowed. “Fetch Miran.”

  *

  “I had no reason to tell ye,” the earl said, watching as the behemoth, Laird Munroe, paced his great hall.

  “No reason?” his guest snarled. “Is she my betrothed or not?”

  “The lass has never disobeyed me. In order to protect her reputation, I have dealt with this quietly. My men are searching for her as we speak. If she is in the Highlands, Helen will be found and brought home. That I promise.”

  Baran Munroe wasna an easy man to keep company with. He dinna care much for formalities and treated the earl as if they were equals. “This French wine,” he complained, “is meant for women to drink. Give me something with teeth, something that will cool my temper.”

  The earl rolled his eyes. That wine cost more silver than all the ale in the isles. However, the laird’s barbaric manners provided some secret entertainment for the earl, for he could easily see the man wearing animal skins and roaming the vast hills barefoot and half-starved in the days of the Picts.

  “Remember what a treasure ye gain with my only daughter.”

  The laird reached inside his tunic and produced a small painting of Lady Helen. “Is this a true likeness?” he asked.

  “It does her no justice,” the earl said as he waved one of the maids over. “Bring ale for Laird Munroe.”

  The maid curtsied and left the great hall.

  “She is a rare beauty, like her mother before her.”

  The answer seemed to mollify Baran long enough for him to sink down in the chair beside the earl. “John…”

  The earl could bear much, but not this. “I dinna give ye permission to use my name,” he said, his voice hard. “Helen will be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly if she has dishonored our family. However, if she has fled in fear, as many maidens do before they marry, I will show her kindness, for she has been a tolerable lass all these years.”

  Baran grunted as he swallowed down the last bit of his wine. “Ye have the benefit of three sons. I am cursed with six daughters, only two worth their salt.”

  The earl knew the laird to be the lowest sort of man, and had high hopes that after he married Helen, he’d die soon, accidently of course. With him out of the way, as the marriage contract designated, half of his assets would become Sutherland property and Helen would be free to marry again, this time to a man she preferred.

  Though unfair to sweet Helen, he would reward her for her pain and suffering. Laird Munroe had promised (and provided it in writing) that he wouldna mistreat, physically harm, or starve Helen: a necessary measure to protect his daughter.

  Laird Munroe dropped the likeness of Helen on the table. “Where has the lass gone?”

  The earl grinned behind his silver goblet. He knew exactly where to look. The MacKay keep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The feast day to honor Alex and Keely’s twins arrived. Helen had stayed busy by helping Keely and the other women of the household prepare for the celebration. With no word from Jamie, Helen dinna know whether she would be expected to carry John and Rebecca into the great hall to receive a blessing from Father Michael. The idea dinna please her, for she blamed herself for his absence. Not only that, tradition would be broken; the godfather should carry any male children and the godmother, any female babes.

  As Helen waited impatiently for Miran to finish dressing her hair, she stared out the single window in her bedchamber.

  “If ye keep squirming like a wee lass, I willna be able to get yer curls just right, milady.”

  “I doona care how I look,” she said.

  Miran clicked her tongue reprovingly. “I doona believe it. As for Master Jamie…”

  “Doona say anything about him,” Helen warned.

  “Nay? Ye’ve held yer tongue for nearly a week. But anyone with half a brain can see that ye suffer.”

  “Suffer? From what?”

  “Disappointment.”

  Should she continue lying? Her head throbbed, and she couldna keep her hands from shaking, either. All signs of something amiss. And if she thought about Jamie too much, her right eye twitched. She raised her chin, gazing up at the maid. “Despite all my efforts to forget about him while working from morning till night, I am no better off.”

  Miran twisted the last strand of Helen’s hair and pinned it in place before she set the ivory comb aside. With her hand on her hip she said, “Whether that mhic an Diabhail returns or not, ye should be proud of what ye accomplished in yer short time here.”

  Helen once again swallowed her laughter after Miran had said something inappropriate. But that’s one of the reasons why she had grown fond of the maid so quickly; the lass spoke her mind without fail. Helen would never let her go. Though she couldna agree about Jamie being the son of the devil. She cleared her throat. “Miran, I appreciate yer loyalty. Doona place such high hopes in me. I couldna even finish the missive to my father without begging Petro for time to think about what I want to say to him.”

  “Ye are so wrong. Asking for that time shows how much ye care. Instead of saying something out of anger or desperation, ye are waiting for the right words to come to ye. That’s admirable, milady. Everyone speaks of what a fine woman ye are, how much they wish ye were a MacKay instead of a Sutherland.” Miran gasped a little, then covered her mouth. “Forgive me, Lady Helen.”

  Though the words stung her pride, Helen had wished for the same thing over and over again. Helen of the Highlands, Jamie’s special name for her. Or Helen MacKay appealed to her, too. Dreams of a silly lass. She could no sooner become a MacKay than she could be a simple lass of the Highlands. She carried a heavy burden being born a Sutherland. Much was expected of her—but God help her, she couldna accept the fate her father had chosen for her.

  “Doona worry,” Helen said, gesturing for the looking glass.

  Miran handed it to her, and Helen examined her hair. Only the front and sides had been pinned up, the rest of her waist-length, blond hair had been combed out. Dried, purple blossoms decorated the curls, and she wore a lilac-colored, linen gown edged with silver embroidery and matching slippers. To demonstrate how important the honor of being named godmother to Keely’s children was, she elected to wear her mother’s favorite jewels, a Roman garnet ring, necklace, and bracelet.

  “Thank ye, Miran,” she said, offering the looking glass back to the maid and standing. “Why Keely hasna appointed ye as her personal maid, I doona know. And my offer is ever enduring. Please come with me wherever I go.”

  Miran blinked several times and smiled. “Ye do me a great honor by asking, milady. But the MacKays are my family, and this keep the only home I’ve ever known.”

  “I understand.” And Helen did, but that dinna mean she’d give up on changing the maid’s mind yet.

  Someone knocked on the chamber door, and Miran hurried to open it.

  Laird Alex and two of his guards greeted them. “Miran,” Alex said, then looked beyond her. “Lady Helen. Are ye ready to go belowstairs?”

  “Aye.” She curtsied, and Alex grinned ear to ear.

  “Ye look beautiful,” he said.

  Lady Helen straightened, holding her head high, the way she had been taught all her life. “Thank ye. Is Lady Keely waiting for us?”

  “She is the most impatient woman I have
ever met.” Alex chuckled, looking regal in his black tunic with gold thread and what appeared to be a new MacKay tartan, pinned in place by a splendid ruby and silver brooch.

  He offered his arm to Helen, and she took it, followed by Miran and the guards.

  The carved-from-stone, narrow, spiral stairs ended at an archway that opened into the great hall. Unlike other keeps of its kind, the MacKay’s ancestral home had windows cut into the lower floor that permitted a view of the outdoors. With the sun just setting, the fading daylight and candlelight cast the hall in dramatic fashion.

  Applause sounded as Laird Alex and Lady Helen entered the vast chamber. Father Michael waited at the far end of the room in front of the dais where the high table was located. Lady Keely and the MacKay captains were already seated.

  Helen counted at least a hundred attendees in the great hall, more if she considered the crowd in the antechamber—most of them crofters.

  Laird Alex patted her hand before he excused himself and walked slowly toward the high table, his people standing to honor him. Aye, the respect and love Laird Alex had won from his clan showed on their happy faces. She might even call it adoration, from men and women alike. It made her both delighted and melancholy, for Helen wished her father inspired that kind of devotion.

  A bit nervous, Helen looked about. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Jamie. However, the nurses arrived holding the babes, and Petro appeared.

  “Lady Helen.” He bowed. “The ceremony is informal but very important to the proud parents.” He gazed in the direction of Alex and Keely. “A court jester could not smile as brightly as they.”

  Helen agreed. Keely and Alex were blessed beyond measure.

  “The baptism will be held on the next sabbath, a private ceremony for the family.”

  “Will I be carrying both bairns?” she asked. “Or will ye stand in for Jamie?”

  Petro sighed and lowered his voice. “Alex gave me specific instructions. If Master Jamie refuses to do his duty by showing up for this celebration, then the honor of being the children’s godfather is no longer his. In that case, Laird Alex has asked me to be their godfather.”

  Helen considered Petro. The Italian scholar served a very important role for the MacKays. On numerous occasions, Laird Alex had praised him. He seemed a suitable replacement for Jamie. Someone who could teach the children much about the world. “Congratulations on such an honor,” Helen sincerely offered.

  “What honor is that?” a familiar voice asked.

  Helen’s heart nearly stopped as she turned to find Jamie in the antechamber. He looked different, well rested. Clean shaven and with his shoulder-length hair pulled back in a queue, he appeared the part of a high-ranking Highland warrior. He, too, wore a newer black and blue MacKay tartan over a fresh linen shirt. But his handsome features were not enough to cool her temper. His sudden appearance dinna make up for what he had done to her or Alex and Keely.

  “Master Jamie,” Petro said, looking shocked. “Laird Alex and Lady Keely should be informed of your presence.”

  A boyish smile lit Jamie’s face. “And ruin a happy surprise, Petro?” Then he turned to Helen, that same grin threatening to shatter her defenses. “Lady Helen.” He bowed low. “Forgive my impudence. I overreacted after our conversation the other day…”

  Why did he emphasize the word conversation like that? Twas the kisses that undid him, not their words. Afraid he might say too much in front of everyone, she cut him off. “There is no need to apologize, Master Jamie. Not to me.”

  He winked. “I am a simple man.”

  Even angry, it still warmed her heart to see him again, though she’d never admit it to Jamie. She shook her head. “Ye are nay a simple man.”

  “Master Jamie? Lady Helen?” Petro interrupted. “It is time to take the babes to Father Michael. Our guests are growing restless.”

  Helen held Jamie’s gaze. “No one thought ye would come,” she said. “Laird Alex was forced to name another man as godfather.”

  The news made Jamie scowl. “Who?”

  Helen gestured at Petro. “An appointment I am sure he dinna want,” she whispered.

  “Well…”

  “Master Jamie,” Petro said more forcefully, then signaled for the nurses to bring the bairns to them. “Helen, ye take Rebecca. Jamie, hold John.”

  Once Helen lifted the pretty babe in her arms, nothing else mattered. The twins represented a new chance for Clan MacKay, a happy future.

  “Walk side by side to Father Michael,” Petro instructed. “And once you reach him, he will pray and then bless the children. He will ask you both to take a vow of protection, swearing to look after the spiritual needs and welfare of John and Rebecca. Do you both accept these terms?”

  Jamie stared long and hard at Helen. “No matter how many times I run away from ye, Helen of the Highlands, it seems the Almighty brings me back.”

  Heat spiraled down her body. How could he say such a thing in the open? Who had overheard him? She nervously looked about. Petro seemed to be the only one listening, for musicians were playing inside the great hall—a fortunate distraction.

  “We will make a formidable team,” Jamie added, his red eyebrows lifted in question. “Do ye agree?”

  “A MacKay and a Sutherland?” she said. “Miracles can happen if the beneficiaries of God’s grace are worthy.”

  Jamie threw his head back and laughed. “Then ye will be the only one blessed with a miracle, for I am a lowly Highland beast, Helen, with only one thing on my mind.”

  His lighthearted expression changed into something she’d rather not see, not have to acknowledge. His blue eyes blazed with hunger.

  Petro coughed exaggeratedly. “There is time enough later for the two of you to make amends.”

  “All right,” Jamie said, hugging wee John to his chest. “Aye, I swear to protect these children with my life.”

  But somehow, even though Jamie said these children, Helen guessed he meant to protect her, too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After the children were held by nearly every guest and sent abovestairs to sleep, the celebration continued well into the night. Even Lady Helen seemed to forget the tight control she had been exercising over herself and drank more wine than Jamie ever guessed she could. If he were less of a man, one with only his own interests at heart, he would take that beautiful woman abovestairs and undress her, lay her down on that bed fit for a queen in her chamber, and love her until she screamed his name, until she couldna walk, until she couldna imagine living without waking up to him every morn.

  Fook. He wanted Helen Sutherland. In bed. In his heart. In life. But the lass dinna belong to him. According to her sire, she belonged to Baran Munroe—a man better off dead. A man who deserved to feel the fatal strike of Jamie’s sword for killing his past wives. And Jamie, no matter the consequences, would make sure Helen never married the bastard. Never, he repeated a thousand times in his head as he watched Helen finish dancing with one of Alex’s soldiers.

  She had been in high demand tonight. The soft light of the candles, the excellent food and drink, the melodic music that could tame the wildest creature, that kind of fae magic did things to a man’s mind. And any one of these virile MacKay warriors would die for a night with Helen.

  Jamie sucked down the rest of his ale. He’d been unusually careful about how much he had drunk. He couldna afford to lose his sharpness of mind again, not with Helen’s future at stake. Not with his sanity already in question.

  “What is it?” Keely asked, reaching over and patting his hand. “Thank ye for coming back in time.”

  “Tis nothing,” he said. “John and Rebecca are lovely bairns, Keely. Ye saved our clan.” He kissed her cheek.

  “I know ye well, Jamie MacKay. Something isna right. And unless ye tell me, I will haunt yer days and nights until ye give me the truth.”

  God help him, now he had two women to make his life difficult. “I left here with the intention of not coming back until Hele
n Sutherland was gone.”

  Strangely, Keely dinna look surprised. “What changed yer mind? And doona use my babes as an excuse.”

  Jamie leaned back in his chair, reluctant to say exactly what he felt. But Keely wasna a maiden, and she would understand. “I havena been a saint, Keely.”

  His confession made her smile. “What MacKay is?”

  “I love women.”

  “Aye.”

  “They love me.”

  “Ye’re arrogant, Jamie.”

  “Maybe a wee bit,” he admitted. “I tried to bed one of my maids after I went home.”

  “What do ye mean, tried?”

  Why in the name of all that was holy did she have to ask that question? Couldna she figure it out without further explanation? He leaned closer to his cousin-by-marriage. “I kissed her, but it dinna please me.”

  “Nay?”

  “Are ye toying with me, Keely?”

  “Nay. I am just proud of ye.”

  Women never failed to confuse him. She approved of the fact that he had kissed another lass? How could that be, when Jamie was certain Helen had confided in Keely about their intimacy at the loch.

  “Ye need to talk to Helen, nay me. But I give ye fair warning, Jamie, as I know my husband has done. She’s a fragile lass, unsure about herself and the future. Doona lead her down a false path. Give her the truth.”

  Jamie could keep that promise. “I will.”

  *

  Helen relied on Keith MacKay to get her safely back to the high table. She couldna remember a more joyous occasion than tonight, where she actually felt like she was part of something real, not just on display to help her father get what he wanted. Those precious babes gave her hope for her own future. And she wanted to forget about the truth for a little while.

  Once she was back at the high table, seated between Keely and Jamie, she giggled like a wee girl.

  “And what trouble have ye been stirring up, Helen?” Keely asked playfully.

  “Me?” She put her hand to her chest. “None that I know of.”

  Jamie remained silent as he eyed her and took a drink of ale.