no idea when to expect your return, m’laird. With news of the raid, Sir Eoin hadn’t any choice but to make haste.”
Aleck lashed out with a swift backhand. Flinching, Helen tried to duck, but he clipped the side of her cheek with his fingernails. Stumbling backward, she touched a hand to her face.
“Sir Eoin?” Aleck said. “I’ve had a gut full of that cur coming into my keep and giving orders as if he were lord and master.”
Helen looked at her palm. Blood streaked across her fingers. She touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth. The iron taste of blood swilled across it while every muscle in her body clenched. She was no pigeon for Aleck to strike whenever he pleased.
“Ready the horses,” he bellowed.
Thomas stepped into view, wringing his hands. “So sorry, m’laird. Sir Eoin and his men took most of the horses. We’ve only a couple of nags left.” The lad’s gaze shifted to Helen’s bleeding mouth.
“He bloody what?” Aleck looked as if he were going to wallop poor Thomas. But he growled instead. “Saddle those that remain and fetch my battle armor.” He beckoned Grant. “You and I will ride ahead—the rest of the men will follow on foot.”
Holding a kerchief against her wound, Helen hastened toward him, but kept enough distance to avoid another strike. “What if the MacDonalds should attack by sea, m’laird?” she asked, careful not to mention Sir Eoin’s name this time—though he had been the one who suspected a dual strike.
Aleck glared. “Do you not have something to embroider? My God, had Duncan Campbell told me how utterly daft you were, I’d not have signed my name to the marriage contract.”
“Nor would you have received my dower lands.” Helen shuffled back in anticipation of an angry strike for her impertinence.
“Watch your mouth.” Aleck stepped in, but didn’t raise a hand this time. “We’ve just returned from a sortie to the north. The MacDonald galleys are still sailing back and forth between Colonsay and Sleat. They’ve much bigger fish to fry—and I am to see they do not succeed.”
Grant strode forward, leading the horses. “Right after we stop them in Sleat, aye, m’laird?”
“Too right.” Aleck circled his hand over his head. “Come men, there’ll be no rest. We’ll not be letting Clan Gregor fight our battles.”
Helen watched as the MacIain army marched out the gate behind Aleck and Grant. All looked worn from their three-day stint at sea. They carried every manner of weapons from poleaxes, bows and arrows to dirks and swords. She could only pray that Aleck had been right—there was no threat from the sea. Once again she’d be left with Mr. Keith and the aged guardsmen. Nonetheless, not a pleasant thought, given Eoin’s warning.
Helen whispered a silent prayer for their safety and headed into the keep to cleanse the blood from her face.
Mary stood propped against the kitchen doorway, watching Helen as she passed. The widow’s arms were folded and she had a smirk across her mouth as if she enjoyed seeing Helen receive a slap from Sir Aleck.
Helen stopped short. I am in charge. I am the lady of this keep. “Mary, see to it you keep the sheep and chickens out of the garden.”
The woman’s jaw dropped. “Me?”
“Aye, and while you’re at it, you can give Master Thomas a hand with the pig’s feed.” Helen didn’t wait for a response. Rather, she proceeded through the great hall and up the stairwell. With things set in motion to secure and provision the castle, she would clean her face and then see to Maggie’s safety.
Pray the MacDonalds continue their business between Colonsay and Sleat for another sennight at least.
Chapter Fourteen
It was dark when Eoin and his men arrived on the summit of Beinn Resipol. William led them directly to the lookout sight and introduced the other two MacIain men as Malcolm and Rob. Though their hands were sooty and their fingernails caked with dirt, Eoin shook their hands. “Good work spotting the MacDonalds straight away.”
“It wasn’t too hard, given the black smoke billowing from the north,” Rob said while Malcolm nodded.
Eoin scanned the terrain below, but could only see blackness. “Where are they now?”
Malcolm threw his thumb over his shoulder. “Headed southeast, I wager they aim to pillage their way to Mingary.”
Eoin instantly thought of Helen and prayed Aleck had already arrived to defend the keep. Since the MacDonalds were heading south, it now made even more sense to sail a patrol galley through Loch Sunart. Thank