the Campbell crest that she’d brought with her from Glen Orchy, she stared at the velum as if at any moment it would be set alight by God’s own hand.
Helen stood and paced. How can I take the missive to Eoin without anyone knowing? If she stole away to his chamber, it would be scandalous. But as this late hour, it would also be unlikely she’d be seen by anyone.
The vulgar noises coming from the laird’s chamber had been replaced by Aleck’s rumbling snores. Was Mary sleeping wrapped by his good arm, or had she returned to her cottage? Helen hadn’t heard the door.
She chewed her thumbnail and paced. Every time she passed the table, she shuddered. Sleep would be impossible with that missive on the table.
After serving the king and Duncan Campbell for years, Eoin had learned to sleep lightly. A knight made enemies enforcing the king’s laws, a fact never far from Eoin’s mind. No one had to tell him he couldn’t be too careful and, as a result, he always slept on his side, facing the door.
The hinges must have been well oiled, because it made not a sound when the door opened and someone slipped inside. Instantly awake, Eoin made no move, and waited for the backstabber to attack. The man kept to the shadows, but the outline of his form was too small to be Aleck MacIain. Eoin wouldn’t have been surprised if that man tried to slit his throat whilst he slept.
Even the intruder’s breathing was inaudible as he hugged the walls, still as a statue.
The orange glow of coals from the hearth cast eerie amber light, shrouded and heavy with nocturnal shadows. But Eoin didn’t fear the dark. He used it to his advantage.
He palmed the dirk under his pillow and waited. Let the intruder make the first move—it would be his last. There could only be one reason for someone to steal into Eoin’s chamber—Aleck MacIain wanted him dead. The vainglorious chieftain had no integrity. Clearly, he saw the fact that Eoin had saved his life as a slight to his masculinity.
Sending someone to murder me? This is the last straw.
In his mind’s eye, Eoin pictured how the culprit would sneak across the floorboards and attack. But the intruder made not a move. Squinting, Eoin peered through the dim light. Crouched in the shadows, he couldn’t make out the stature of the man. Not that it mattered. As soon as the varlet crept toward the bed, Eoin would run his blade across his neck, and then he’d gather his men and make a damning report to the king. Attempting to murder a king’s enforcer? Doubtless, such an act would prove Aleck MacIain a traitor. His lands would be forfeit to the king and Aleck would be declared an outlaw just like the MacDonalds who’d attacked this day.
Eoin waited.
Scarcely breathing, the intruder remained still for what seemed like an eternity.
This is a very patient man indeed—or terrified—and so he should be. Fear, aye? Perhaps the bastard needs an invitation.
Eoin sprang from the bed, landing in a crouch, dirk at the ready. “What manner of murderer is it who enters my chamber and hides in the shadows?”
“Eoin?” A woman’s voice trembled. “Y-y-you’re awake?”
Shocked as if he’d been smacked between the eyes, Eoin lowered his weapon. “Lady Helen?”
“Aye.” She stepped from the darkness, shielding her eyes from him.
Eoin looked down. Without a stitch of clothing, he must have frightened the wits out of the poor woman. He tossed his dirk on the pillow and snatched the plaid from his bed, tying it around his waist. “Forgive me. I thought you were an intruder.”
“Oh?” She emitted a deep chuckle, as if not entirely repulsed by what she’d seen. “Is it not every night you lie abed, waiting for the lady of the keep to spirit into your chamber?”
He laughed as well, scratching his head. “’Tis good to hear you’re in good humor, m’lady.”
She sighed and moved further into the room, her gaze fixated on his stomach. “I wish it were so. But since we last met, I’ve not been able to think of anything other than your words.”
Eoin’s muscles clenched as he held his breath. Was she saying she agreed with him? “It wasn’t my place to be so forward. Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” Her gaze skimmed up his torso and met his. By the stars, the amber from the coals made her eyes shimmer like the North Sea on a clear day. “I needed