and tell her ladyship her sister has arrived—quickly, now.”
After Mr. Keith retuned Maggie to her arms, they proceeded up the embankment. Though exhausted, Helen took in a deep breath and strode with renewed hope filling her heart. Dunollie had never looked so grand with ivy growing up her stone walls. The guard ushered them through the sea gate and up the steep path to Dunollie’s inner courtyard. By the time they reached the keep, her legs were a bit unsteady. Bone-weary beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her life, Helen grew woozy at the prospect of seeing her sister.
The door to the keep burst open. A lad stood beside Gyllis, with a toddler peeking out from behind her skirts. Helen’s sister grinned wide enough to see her back molars, but as soon as she looked at Helen, a grimace of concern quickly turned down her exuberant smile. Gyllis spread her arms wide. “My heavens, what on earth has happened? You look as if you’ve sailed through the bowels of hell.”
Helen fell into her sister’s embrace. “Indeed, I have.” Inhaling the familiar lavender fragrance, a load as heavy as stones lifted from Helen’s shoulders.
Gyllis squeezed tight. “Why did you not send word?”
“There wasn’t time.” Between them, Maggie fussed. Helen pulled back far enough to give the bairn room to breathe. “I’ve much to tell you.”
Gyllis looked down and her eyes popped. “Oh my. Is this Margaret? I received your missive some two months ago.”
Helen raised her elbow to show off the babe. “Aye, I call her Maggie.”
Grasping the lad and the lass beside her by the wrists, Gyllis grinned. “This is Zander and Anna—meet your Auntie Helen and your wee cousin.”
Helen knelt down so the children could get a good look at the bairn. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Anna shoved her finger in her mouth. “Can she talk yet?” The words came out a bit garbled due to the finger, but Helen understood well enough.
“Not yet. She’s but four months of age.”
“I’m two-and-a-half.” The darling looked awfully proud of herself—already standing like a well-bred lass with chestnut locks.
Helen chuckled. “My, you are a young lady nearly grown.”
Zander, a good head taller, nudged Anna aside with his shoulder. “I’m almost five and my da says I’m to be a knight.”
“I’m certain you will be a fine knight indeed.” Helen scrubbed her fingers into his sandy hair. “You’re already a brawny lad. I’ll wager you take good care of your sister. That is what knights do. They protect women and children.”
The lad twisted his mouth and gave Anna a sideways glance. “Och, you mean I have ta protect her?”
“Aye,” Helen offered a stern nod. “Without hesitation, a man defends his family first—”
Maggie launched into a wail. Evidently the soggy oatcakes had run their course.
Gyllis offered her hand and pulled Helen up. “Forgive my impertinence, but you look like you’ve spent a month in purgatory.”
Helen stood with a woeful glance at her gown. She parted her cloak enough to show her sister the extent of the filth. “I have.”
With a gasp, Gyllis cringed. “I cannot believe my eyes. My sister would never be seen in public clad thus. For the love of all that is holy, your plight must be inordinately grave.” Gyllis gestured inside. “Come above stairs and we’ll set you to rights straight away.”
“I’d like nothing more, but first may I ask for some warm milk for Maggie, and food and a bed for Mr. Keith? He nearly broke his back rowing a skiff all the way from Mingary Castle.”
“Rowing a wee skiff?” Gyllis’s jaw dropped. “I’ll see it done.” She clapped her hands and faced a woman who’d been standing in the kitchen doorway. “Jinny, please see to all Helen has requested.”
The matron curtseyed. “Straight away, m’lady. And I’ll fetch the nursemaid for Anna and Zander.”
“You’d best fetch the milk for the bairn first,” Keith said with a bow. “She’s been howling since daylight broke.”
Gyllis knit her brows. “Goodness, your circumstances sound graver and graver.”
Helen inclined her head toward the stairwell. “You shall not believe how dire things have become.” She again parted her cloak. “May I request a bath as well?”
“Of course.” Gyllis slipped her arm around Helen’s shoulders. “You shall be treated as royalty whilst you’re at Dunollie.”
As they proceeded toward the stairwell, Gyllis’s limp was barely noticeable. Helen’s sister had suffered from a bout of paralysis before she had married Sir Sean MacDougall. The disease could have left her abed for the rest of her