only man who has enough honor to think on it. Besides, ye are Scots and I have faith in the fact that ye are more a man of action than conversations.”
And she was helpless. It hurt, causing an ache in her heart that nearly sent tears down her cheeks.
“I thank ye for telling me. Forgive me, but I’ve something pressing to attend to.”
She offered him a slight lowering of her head, but Keir McQuade was already turning around before she rose. His kilt swung from side to side, betraying how quickly he was moving. A smile brightened her face while she strode back toward the queen’s chambers. She did not care if she was discovered. Helena was her friend. A lecture from one of the ladies-in-waiting would be little compared to what her friend must be suffering after she refused to lie for her brother.
He was a snake.
She grumbled through set teeth. There were dangerous men at court, some more trouble than others. Edmund Knyvett was the worst. He used his fine blood to mask a rotten core, his appetite for power having eaten away every bit of decency.
But he was Helena’s brother and her guardian. Even the king could not interfere easily. Another noble might. Keir McQuade was a laird. Many of the English did not respect the title, but James Stuart was a Scot.
It was hope. In whatever small fashion, it was the only thing she could think of, and she muttered a silent prayer before slipping back into her place.
Chapter Four
“What are ye talking about?” Farrell scratched his head. “We do nae even know the lass is in trouble. We’re nae her family. Hell, ye have done no more than flirt with her. Or so I thought.”
Keir shot his man a deadly look. “Ye’re a suspicious man. I like to enjoy my tumbles a wee bit more than that. She’s in trouble, that much I’d bet me horse on.”
Farrell looked stunned, and with good reason. His horse was a fine animal. One Keir was nae in the mood to lose.
“I think ye’re daft. Her brother will likely order us run through.”
But his clansman still reached for his bonnet and tugged it down over his forehead. They would follow their laird but he wanted more than his father had from them.
Keir eyed them. “She’s in trouble that stems from her speaking up on my behalf. I’ve a need to be looking into that. The lass went against her own blood for me.”
Understanding dawned in Farrell’s eyes.
“I suppose we cannae stand idle when the lass was telling the truth. Seems like that brother of hers needs a good thrashing even more than we figured. So what is yer plan? We dinnae even know where the lass is.”
“That should be the simple part. Her brother is a powerful man who likes to make sure people treat him accordingly. Sniffing out his trail shouldn’t take very long.” What it would require was coin, but he had been managing Red Stone for years. It was the only thing his father had ever praised him for. The estate was profitable, unlike many that failed to change with the times. He’d done it for the clan, for the better life it brought to McQuade families. Today was the first time he was going to enjoy the silver in his purse for purely personal reasons.
He was going to bribe every servant he found until he discovered just what Edmund Knyvett had done with his sister. Maybe he did not have the right to go poking around in the man’s affairs, but he did not care.
It was something that was etched into his memory.
“And then what are we going to do? Teach the little lordling a greater respect for womenfolk?”
Keir cut a glare toward Farrell but the man only smiled in return. He deserved the teasing, normally would have welcomed it. Something about Helena Knyvett soured his disposition.
He hadn’t needed Raelin to tell him that Helena had blushed for him. He’d known it, seen it with his own eyes and spent too many hours dwelling on it for his own good. Or hers, for that matter. He was a man of action and his mind was spending too much time considering just how much he’d enjoy a little less thinking and more doing in relation to her.
“It’s nae completely absurd.” Keir looked at his man. “But that wouldnae be the wisest thing I might do.”