need neither your sympathy nor your help. Send Mary up with a flagon of whisky.”
“M’laird.” Helen looked over her shoulder at the stunned faces of the guard. Eoin stepped behind them. “At least allow me to see to your comfort and then—”
“Be gone with you and do as I say.” He raised his hand as if to deliver a slap, but the wallop stopped midair.
Eoin’s big hand wrapped around Aleck’s wrist. “The lady just held your keep against Alexander MacDonald and your thanks is to strike her?” Eoin’s voice seethed, as if he could snap Aleck’s arm in two.
Sir Aleck faced the MacGregor Chieftain and snarled. “If I weren’t waylaid, I’d finish this now.”
“Aye?” Eoin emitted a spiteful chuckle. “Backstab the man who saved you in Sunart?”
Aleck jutted his face so close to Eoin’s, their noses almost touched. “I told you I didn’t need saving.”
“Too right,” Eoin growled. “I should have let the MacDonald bastard run you through.”
“You sicken me. Have you not a beloved sword to sharpen?” Aleck turned his shoulder and limped toward his chamber. “Send Mary up with my whisky and leave me be.”
After the door closed behind him, Helen clapped her hands to her cheeks and ran. Must her husband now humiliate her every time she saw him? So, their first born was a lass. They weren’t the only couple in the world who had produced a female child first. Did Aleck want a boy so he could cast her aside and never have to perform the vile act of consummation with her again?
Worse, did Eoin MacGregor have to ascend the stairs just as Aleck was issuing his retort? And would she have ended up with yet another blackened eye had Eoin not intervened? Helen gasped. Would Aleck seek retribution against her dear friend and ally? Undoubtedly he would. He could not withstand any man who made him appear weak.
Tears dribbled down her cheeks as Helen reached the far stairwell and started up toward the nursery.
“Lady Helen,” Eoin called after her. “Please wait.”
She shook her head. “Go away.”
Starting up, she hoped he’d turn around, take his men and sail back to Argyllshire. But his hand wrapped around her wrist. He grasped her firmly, but not so hard his fingers would leave a bruise. “Please stop. I’d like to talk—to thank you for all you have done.”
Helen backed down the step, swiping a hand across her face. She didn’t want him to see her crying yet again. “Pardon me?”
He placed his palm on the wall near her head. “I saw enough. You stood beside the men on the battlements and fought off the MacDonalds—my, you are quite a markswoman.”
She smirked. “Aye, though all would have been lost had you not arrived when you did.”
He casually leaned toward her. “But you wore the enemy down. Made our job easy. It would be an honor to have you in Clan Gregor any time.”
If only that had been the way of things from the outset of her miserable adulthood. But no, she was married to Satan, and had been forced to act as a warrior woman due to circumstances, not because she was courageous or a great tactician. She’d had no other choice. She’d taken part in killing—and no matter how necessary it was to defend her home, her mind couldn’t rationalize it. “I am most certainly not proud of this day.”
She must have missed a tear, because he brushed the pad of his thumb over the corner of her eye. “’Tis because you have a kind heart. You should not have been forced to defend Mingary.”
“But I did, and then Aleck—” She clapped her hands over her face. Her heart twisted in knots. She must stop seeking pity from Sir Eoin. So her husband hated her—had no qualms about embarrassing her in front of the entire clan or outsiders. There was nothing she could do about it now—not with Maggie tucked away in the nursery and Aleck threatening vile acts of vengeance.
Eoin grasped her hand between palms that had no right to be so warm. “My lady, no woman should be forced to endure the humiliation I witnessed today.”
She tugged her fingers away. “Eoin, I know you have only the best intentions, but I must ask you to ignore Sir Aleck’s gruff treatment of my person. After all, he is my husband. An alliance was made upon our betrothal and witnessed in the eyes of God. When he is ready, he will come to me to produce the heir