She reached for the wooden tray and uncovered it. The offering was meager: a round of bread, some slices of carrot, an apple, and a slice of cold lamb from the day before. The cook had clearly rummaged among her leftovers for what the trencher held.
Who knew how long it would have to last her. Edmund held the key, she had no doubt. Reaching for the carrot slices, she chewed on one slowly. The day suddenly stretched out before her endlessly, the possibilities for disaster too numerous to endure considering.
But she had little else to distract her from it. Naught save Keir McQuade, that was. Helena willingly let her mind shift to the Scot. She had never found a man she considered handsome before. His body amazed her. Of course, that was to be expected. He was a large man, far greater in height than most of the men he walked among. His shoulders were wide and he had a habit of crossing his arms across his chest that made him look even broader. Certainly it was all those differences that drew her attention.
It is not, and you know it….
That tingle returned to her nape. Reaching up, she stroked the skin and shivered. Her skin was alive and pulsing with a level of sensation she had never experienced. Was that lust? To avoid being coarse, she might call it attraction, but there were so many who would declare it sinful nonetheless.
Whatever it was, her blood seemed to carry it through her body like fine wine. She felt her heartbeat everywhere, from her toes on up to her belly. The rhyming couplets so often recited at court suddenly made more sense. She could understand their passionate words now because this level of sensation was insanity: haunting, intoxicating, and luring her away from pure thoughts. She was not interested in sinking to her knees in order to use prayer to banish the growing feelings. She wanted to savor them, all the while hoping they increased in intensity.
Well, it was not all that bad. She suddenly smiled. There was no lasting harm in her daydreams because Keir McQuade would never know of them. That was the saving grace. She looked at the locked door and sighed. Cold dread resumed its hold on her. Fate was not going to be kind to her. It was best to embrace it now; that way, it would hurt less when Edmund turned the key and pronounced his sentence on her. Just as any convict, she would pay the price for having transgressed against his rule.
She would never set eyes upon Keir McQuade, save in her dreams. She felt that in her heart and it hurt.
Many would call her mad.
Raelin McKorey watched Keir McQuade from beneath her eyelashes. It was a skill she’d perfected after five years at court.
His father had tried to murder her. The scar on her cheek itched. She fought the urge to scratch it. The itch was only in her mind—after all, the cut had fully healed now, but anytime she thought about that moment when the old Laird McQuade had sent his dagger plunging toward her, the scar itched. His elder sons had called her a witch. It was a rumor that clung to her. No man had offered for her hand since. She rarely had dance partners who were unmarried and she knew the reason why.
Her temper heated up. Oh aye, she knew. Young men came to court and flirted with her and then they rejoined their relations and never again approached her.
Witch…
That was the legacy Keir McQuade hailed from.
But he did not look the same. She understood Helena’s fascination with the man. He was the image of strength, no doubt about it. Uncertainty held her in its grip but she had no other option. Fortune favored the bold, after all.
Besides, she could not shake the memory of him rushing to her aid. He had not known it was her but he had been enraged even after seeing her face. For a moment her heart had frozen when she’d spied the colors of his kilt. She had seen that heather, tan and green wool in her nightmares—dark visions full of terror and the scent of blood.
Yet today she was seeking out a McQuade. Fate was as intricate as bobbin lace. It was impossible to follow the thread through the pattern no matter how hard you tried. In order to weave it, you had to cast the bobbins over one another until