Highland Knight of Rapture (Highland Dynasty Book 4) Read Free

widow?”
    “Wheesht and mind your own affairs.” He grasped her hand under the table and squeezed. Hard. “I’ll not have any lassie yapping in my ear like a bitch. I need your noble arse to bear my son and that’s the last I’ll hear of it.”
    Suddenly not hungry, Helen pulled her hand away and rubbed her fingers. How could her brute of a husband treat her with such disdain? And how in God’s name was she to endure his boorishness for the rest of her life? Yes, her mother had always repeated the words: that which cannot be helped must be endured . But Da had treated Ma with respect, even in the beginning. Though Helen’s parents had an arranged marriage, they’d grown to love each other, and in short order, too. Helen glanced at Aleck’s bald head. She no longer harbored hope of love ever growing between them—tolerance was the best she could hope for.
    But I must try harder .
    The big oak doors at the far end of the great hall opened with a whoosh. A sentry wearing the king’s surcoat emblazoned with an orange lion rampant stepped inside. “I’ve a missive for Sir Aleck MacIain.”
    The Chieftain stood and beckoned him. “Are you blind? Bring it here to the high table.”
    Helen huffed. Decorum would never be her husband’s strong suit. Who on earth would not be aware the clan’s chieftain sat at the high table? And flaunting the fact by being rude only served to promote discourse among those who paid fealty to him.
    Aleck drummed his fingers while the man strode through the hall and climbed up to the dais with all eyes upon him. The room hummed as people mumbled, clearly impressed that a king’s man had come all the way to Ardnamurchan to deliver a missive to their chieftain. Aleck snatched the velum from the man’s fingertips and sliced his eating knife under the seal. Leaning toward the light of the enormous candelabra, Aleck knit his bushy eyebrows as he read.
    Helen craned her neck in a futile attempt to see the writing. “What news, m’laird?”
    With a frown, he shoved the missive into his doublet and looked to Grant, completely ignoring Helen’s question. “The king has requested my presence at Stirling Castle. We must leave on the morrow.”
    “Stirling?” Helen clapped her hands together. “Oh it would be lovely to purchase some new fabric at the castle fete.”
    “Aye, but you will not be accompanying me.”
    Helen frowned. It was no use asking if he would bring back a bolt of gold damask. He wouldn’t do it. And making such a request would only give him another opportunity to berate her.
    Grant stood and bowed. “I’ll ready the men.” He looked to Aleck. “We’ll take the galley to Dunstaffnage and ride from there as usual?”
    “Aye.”
    Helen nearly melted when she heard the henchman say Dunstaffnage . She had many fond memories of that castle. It was only a short ride from Dunollie where her sister, Gyllis, lived with her husband, Sean MacDougall. If only she could stow away on Aleck’s galley with Maggie. Helen could visit Gyllis and then travel east to Kilchurn Castle and see her mother. How wonderful such a holiday would be. She hadn’t seen her kin in years.
    Alas, Aleck would be in too much of a hurry to take her and Maggie to Dunollie—only four miles south of Dunstaffnage.
    However, in her usual mien, Helen chose to see the positive side of this turn of events. Perhaps this journey would take Aleck away for an entire month. She smiled. Indeed, his absence was something she would welcome.

Chapter Two
     
     
    Eoin MacGregor, Chieftain of Clan Gregor, sat at the king’s table. The gathering was a clandestine assembly, conducted in the king’s antechamber, one doorway from his royal highness’s bedchamber. The room was appointed with landscape tapestries woven with iridescent silk threads. The particularly rich greens made the scenes appear almost lifelike. The table itself was a work of art, hewn from walnut with carved lion’s heads at each corner.
    Eoin was