for it gave her time to become lovers with him.
Chapter Fourteen
The king didn’t plan on them slipping out of his grasp. Keir and Helena walked to the outer courtyard to find a full forty men waiting to escort them to the palace. They were still mounted, telling them that time was short. Two carriages waited in their ranks, the drivers still seated with the reins in their gloved hands. These were royal guards, not the yeomen who had charge of the Tower.
“I told you to unhand me!” Lord Ronchford’s voice rose in the early evening. His tone was haughty and the yeomen pulling him along didn’t look pleased with their duty. Only after they delivered him to the ranks of the royal guard did they look pleased. Ronchford drew himself up with an arrogant sniff. His gaze landed on them. He sneered at her.
Keir bristled beside her. Helena raised one gloved hand and gently laid it on his arm behind her.
“He isn’t worth it.”
“I disagree, wife. The man needs a good thrashing and I am more than in the mood to give it to him.”
“There will be none of that.” The captain of the guard stepped forward. “The king is impatient.”
Keir tilted his head but shot Ronchford a look that sent the other man back a pace. “Well then, we’ll nae keep Jamie waiting.”
Another guard pulled open the door of one carriage. Keir raised an eyebrow at the captain.
“Your pardon, Lord Hurst, but for the moment I cannot allow you the freedom of being mounted.”
Keir grumbled something in Gaelic but followed Helena up into the carriage. He had to sit on the very end of the seat and curl his back and neck. His knees rested against the opposite seat. Constructed to maintain warmth, the inside of the carriage was quite small. For a man of Keir’s size it was very confining. Helena pressed up against the side of it to make as much room for him as possible, but he continued muttering.
“I believe I shall have to learn Gaelic,” Helena said.
He straightened and cracked his head on the top of the carriage. She didn’t need to understand the language to grasp the meaning of the next word he spoke; his tone was clear enough.
“I hate carriages.”
But Ronchford didn’t. Helena watched through the open door as he climbed into the second carriage and propped his boots on the opposite seat without a care for the mud clinging to his heels. Instead he tugged on his lace cuffs to make sure they were sitting exactly the way he liked.
How like Edmund.
How very much like court. The door shut and the horses began pulling them almost in the same moment. She wore only her hunting dress and was perfectly content. A bit of finery would be nice from time to time, but she held no desire to follow fashion too closely. Nor did she want to see her husband sporting lace and silk slops.
She heard the iron gate open and peeked out the window to see it rising and clearing the drawbridge. A smile lifted her lips even while her gut twisted with apprehension.
“Dinnae fret, lass.” Keir captured her hands, which she hadn’t realized were twisting in her skirts. He lifted one to his lips and kissed it before gently massaging her fingers until they relaxed.
“I cannae stand the sight of ye when ye fret.”
Helena fluttered her eyelashes. “Everything shall be well; I am very sure of that.”
He frowned at her. “And I cannae stomach those false courtly manners. Have a bit of pity on me and spare me.”
She allowed her expression to reflect her true feelings. The sounds of the city street drifted in and she realized that she had missed them. The inner tower had been so quiet, so secluded, that time almost ceased to pass. It felt like their magical sphere had shattered and the pieces were raining down around them, allowing them to see the harsh face of reality. It was so strange how the Tower had become a haven from which she was sad to depart.
But there was anticipation burning in her belly, too, a flame that gained strength as the carriage made its way toward the palace. They pulled right up to the main stairs and the door was opened again. Keir gratefully left the carriage, shaking his shoulders. The royal guard flanked them with pikes held straight up, but there was no missing the keen attention those men gave to where Keir moved. When he