completely hid his face—especially on the battlefield.
The helmed man held back, as if waiting for the others to leave.
Eoin pretended to inspect the rigging, while fingering his dirk.
The man stepped forward. “Sir Eoin. May I have a word?” he whispered. “’Tis in regard to Lady Helen.”
Safely tucked away deep in the woods of Fearnoch Forest, Helen’s first two nights in the cottage had been heavenly. Though Gyllis had practically packed half the household, Helen found no cradle for Maggie, and had lined a wooden crate with soft woolen blankets, and the bairn slept soundly.
Helen couldn’t remember ever being so happy. For the first time since she’d married Aleck, she felt as though she could be herself. No affected, serene smiles, no clamping her insides taut to keep from blurting out something that might send Sir Aleck into a rage. True, she had no chambermaid in attendance, and no cook to prepare her meals, but she’d learned enough from Peter to be able to make her own food, and wearing simple kirtles with her stays tied in the front, dressing was easy too.
She had plenty of milk for Maggie, and Gyllis promised to deliver a fresh pitcher twice a week, along with other foodstuffs.
Maggie lay on her tummy atop the sheepskin rug in front of the hearth. Helen held up snipped pieces of cloth she’d found. Sitting beside the bairn, she took Maggie’s wee palm and slid it over the first piece of fabric. “This is silk.”
Maggie gave a gummy grin.
Helen picked up a coarse textured piece. “This is sackcloth worn by the pious when paying their penance. ’Tis made of goat’s fur and very uncomfortable.”
Maggie’s eyes popped wide and she gave a wee gasp, clearly enjoying the new tactile sensations. Shifting the bairn’s palm to the plush wool, Helen grinned. “But I’d wager you like sheep’s wool the best.”
Maggie squealed with delight.
Helen threw back her head and laughed. “Och aye, we two will have so much fun together. There’s no keep to run, no malignant rules to follow, no lemans shooting me hateful glares.” Helen snapped a hand over her mouth. Though Maggie did not yet understand everything she said, Helen must not speak out against the bairn’s father. She’d not err again.
Before dusk, Helen set to preparing the evening meal of boiled mutton pottage and kettle scones. Maggie entertained herself, rolling back and forth over the rug and pushing up with her arms, and, on occasion, sticking a wooden spoon in her mouth and chewing. Teeth were about to come in, no doubt.
As the kettle began a rolling boil, Helen scooped a dollop of pottage with a large ladle. She blew on the steamy liquid and sipped. A bit bland.
She’d seen some houseleek outside. Surely a few sprigs would add flavor. Stepping outside for a mere moment, she strode to the overgrown garden and broke off a handful.
A twig snapped.
An eerie silence blanketed the clearing.
Helen held her breath, but the hammering of her heart roared in her hears. Mr. Keith should be away bearing her message for Eoin and Gyllis wouldn’t approach at this hour. Had it been a deer? She wasn’t about to wander into the woods to find out. Grasping her skirts, she ran for the door.
The unmistakable sound of horse hooves grew near—not at a gallop, but in the cadence of a fast trot.
Helen dashed inside and grabbed the bow and an arrow from its peg beside the door. Her hands trembled as she loaded the arrow. Only God knew who was out there. With luck, they’ll pass by unawares. Goodness, Gyllis told me there hadn’t been any outlaws holed up in this forest in years.
She moved to the window and cracked open the shutter, sliding the arrow through. Helen’s heart flew to her throat. At the edge of the clearing, the rider, clad in a black cloak, reined his horse to a stop.
Helen pulled back the bowstring, willing her hands to steady.
The rider dismounted. When he pushed the hood from his head, he stared straight at the cottage.
Helen’s stomach flittered all the way up to her throat.
Blessed be the saints! She tossed her weapons aside and dashed to the door. “Sir Eoin! How on earth did you find me so quickly?”
His eyes sparkled with his incredibly attractive grin. “Mr. Keith delivered your missive late this morn.”
“And you came all the way from Tabert? In one day?”
“Aye.” He gave her a wink. “We had a good wind.”
“I’ll say.” She glanced at the horse behind him. “And