a madman trying to reclaim the Hebrides and the northwest of Scotland and revert it to Norse rule. Forgive me if I’m a bit concerned.”
“You ken as well as I we’ll quash the rebellion.” Duncan shrugged. “But it isn’t like you to worry. Usually you’re the first man to take up his sword.”
“That is precisely why I’m irritated. I’ve been sitting in this solar for too long talking about what we plan to do. I was ready to sail into battle three days past.”
The king chuckled. “’Tis settled then. If my nobles are growing impatient, I can only imagine how tempers are flaring in the ranks. I agree with Sir Eoin, we shall move our base to Tabert and create a ruse. We’ll give them time—make the MacDonalds think we’ve given up on their petty scheme and then we’ll attack when they least expect it.”
Eoin didn’t like that either. Tabert? He was sailing further away from Lady Helen by the day.
Nearly a fortnight had passed while Aleck enjoyed feigning illness and allowed Mary to cater to his every whim. But the duties of a chieftain prevented him from remaining idle, especially when King James requested his services. As soon as Mary finished buckling his breast plate over his hauberk, he and his men would set sail—and when he returned, he’d impale Alexander MacDonald’s head on a spike above the Mingary gate.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said.
He flexed his arm in its sling. The damned thing still hurt. “I’m sure I will not be long. I’ll have my revenge—and then I’ll be free to think about you and the bairn.” Aside from his insatiable desire to murder the MacDonald bastard who’d tried to seize his lands, Aleck had thought of nothing else but the infant growing in her belly. It gave him renewed hope for an heir and now he’d devised the perfect scheme so no one would ever know the child was a bastard.
He cupped Mary’s face. “You are already showing, my dear.”
“Aye.” Her cheeks turned red. “I left it as long as I could afore I told you, m’laird.”
“You’ve known for a time?”
She nodded.
He didn’t blame her for hiding it from him. Anything could have happened, but having his son arrive sooner than later would only be a benefit, given his scheme. “When do you expect…ah…”
She gave him a knowing smile. “Three months give or take. Around St. Crispin’s day, I expect.”
A giddy flutter tickled his stomach. “Excellent. I shall send you to my Uncle’s stronghold in Duntulm. No one will recognize you there.”
She covered her mouth with her palm and stepped away. “You desire to be rid of me?”
“Not at all. I desire only for you to birth the bairn in secret.” He chuckled at his ingenuity. “Henceforth, I’ll allow no one to see Lady Helen. Once I receive word that you’ve birthed my son, I’ll send for you.”
“And what of your wife?”
He chuckled. “She’ll remain locked in the dungeon and receive her meals under the door. No one will know whether her belly is growing or not.” He eyed Mary. She was the only person to whom he could entrust his plan. “After I fetch you with my son, Helen will perish from birthing the bairn in her cell. I’ve the whole thing planned.”
A delightfully wicked grin spread across Mary’s face.
Helen had lost track of how long she’d been incarcerated in the dank dungeon. When the sentry came with her meals, a ray of torchlight would flicker from beneath the door, but otherwise she’d been in darkness with no idea whether it was day or night.
If only they would allow her some light, she might be able to read or embroider to allay the endless boredom. But no, the most malevolent guard in all of Mingary was her jailer.
Aleck had assigned Robert to her care. And Helen had no doubt her husband contrived to put her under a guard who had no sympathy for human life. When he wasn’t acting as a guard, Robert spent his days in the great hall sitting alone, sharpening his weapons. Helen had once caught him in the courtyard, pulling the claws from a kitten. He’d put the poor thing in a burlap sack, holding one paw through the opening. Helen wouldn’t have known he had the kitten until it yowled in pain as Robert tortured it with a pair of iron tongs. She’d given him a firm lashing with her tongue and snatched the poor, trembling kitten from