It reminded her of the days when Helen and her sister, Gyllis, were still maids, running up the Kilchurn tower stairs and watching the guard spar in the courtyard while the wind blew through their long tresses.
Eoin had been one of the knights in the courtyard, as had Sean MacDougall, Gyllis’s husband.
When the music stopped, Eoin took her hand. “You look deep in thought.”
“Aye.” She sighed. “Just remembering the years at Kilchurn.”
The minstrels began a slow almain. Eoin grasped her hand, leading her in the stately dance as if it were second nature for him. “Fond memories?”
“Very much so. I miss my sisters. Gyllis especially.”
“Ah yes, the two of you were very close.” The rough pads of Eoin’s fingertips plied her hand while they danced in a circle. Step-hop, step-hop.
She smiled at him. “I love this dance.”
“Aye, it can be very stimulating with the right partner.”
She stopped. “I hope I am not keeping you from seeking out a more entertaining lass.”
He reached for her hand and pulled her step-hopping in the other direction. “Nay, m’lady. There is no other person with whom I’d rather be dancing this night.”
No? “Why have you not married after all these years?”
He chuckled. “Because either the king or your brother has me running sorties all over Scotland. I’ve scarcely had the time to think about it.”
“But you’ve been to court.”
“Aye.”
“I think we should find you a wife.”
He shot her a wee frown. “Pray Lady Helen, I’d prefer to find my own wife.”
The food churned in her stomach. “Have you someone in mind?”
“Not yet.”
She knew she shouldn’t press, but couldn’t help but ask. “Not ever?”
He shrugged. “No one who ever stuck.”
Good Lord, what did he mean by that?
They danced through one song after another and Helen never tired. At the end of a high-steeping reel, she dipped into a curtsey and fanned her face.
“Are you enjoying dancing with my wife, MacGregor?” Aleck groused from behind Helen.
Her back tensed as if someone had just run a block of ice along her spine.
Eoin straightened from his bow. “You would have been welcome to cut in at any moment.”
The two men regarded each other with leery eyes, but Aleck swayed—and smelled pickled. He faced the thinning crowd and clapped his hands while swaying in place. “The hour is late. Good m-morrow.”
He’s in his cups for certain.
Helen searched for Mary. The nasty widow was still sitting in Helen’s chair, watching them as if a spectator at the Highland games.
“Come, Helen,” Aleck said loudly as he clamped his fingers around her wrist. “You’ve frolicked with Sir Eoin enough for one night.”
The stragglers in the hall stared.
Helen cast an apologetic look at Eoin. “Thank you for dancing with me. It was most invigorating.”
The muscles in Eoin’s jaw tightened and his eyes grew dark—deadly. But he smiled at her and bowed his head. “The pleasure was mine, m’lady.”
“Bloody frivolities,” Aleck grumbled as he pulled her to the stairwell. Helen tried to yank her wrist from his grasp, but he tightened his grip. She could never imagine Aleck gently holding her hand in an almain. She couldn’t imagine him dancing with her at all. If he did, it would be with a grudging scowl on his face.
She hastened her step to keep from being dragged. “Why do you not dance with me?”
He continued up the steps. “I don’t care for dancing.”
“But I do.”
“Mayhap that’s why I allowed that sniveling maggot to fawn all over you.” He exited the stairwell and pulled Helen to her chamber door.
Surely he isn’t planning to go inside. “Are you well m’lord?”
“I’m bloody fine.” He opened the door and pushed her in. “You dishonored me with your making merry.” He held up her discarded veil. “You are a married woman and yet you bared your tresses in front of the entire clan.”
Her face grew hot. “You dare criticize me?” Clenching her fists, Helen refused to look away from his angry stare. She didn’t care if he towered over her by a foot and looked like an overstuffed black boar. She would not tolerate his scorn behind closed doors. “I have watched you fawn all over that woman, that whore, for ages, and you have the audacity to confront me about dancing at a gathering?”
“Your place is not to question me but to obey.”
“Is it now? I am to remain taciturn and non-communicative in infinitum whilst you spend your days within Mary’s cottage? And presently you do not even try to be secretive about your infidelity.”