her cheek, but the smile on her lips made his own curve up. Maybe he was a fool to care about a woman at all; there were plenty of men who would tell him that.
But he enjoyed knowing she was in his care.
Aye, the knowledge settled a great deal of his unsettled thoughts. There would be plenty of time to discover what caused her tears. They were not the first couple who married while still mostly strangers. Pulling a blanket from the bed, he covered her with it. She looked too content to move and there was a part of him that wanted to join her in that bed too much to risk carrying her there.
He was not sure he had enough self-discipline to walk away.
“You imbecile.” Edmund Knyvett, heir to the Earl of Kenton, felt fear creep into his heart for the first time in a very long time. He was not a man who feared. In fact, he was not a man who worried very often. His place was secured and he had been born to it by divine decision.
“It was such a simple plan. I sent her right into your hands!”
“Well, that Scot took her out of my hands!” Lord Ronchford snarled and reached up to gingerly test the lump on the top of his head. He winced and cursed. “I want my money returned.”
“No. I did what I promised. The money is mine. It is not my fault you couldn’t conclude the transaction on your end.”
“Now see here!”
Edmund hit the table with a fist. His men leaned forward, lending their weight to his side of the argument. “I did what I promised.”
“But I didn’t get to marry her.” Ronchford’s eyes glowed with his rage. He lowered his voice and leaned forward to keep his words from carrying across the tavern.
“Don’t cross me. You’ll regret it. I swear that on my mother’s tits.”
Edmund looked down his nose at the man. “As I said. I completed my obligation. This business matter is finished.”
He stood up and left, never looking back. He was a peer. It was not his responsibility to get Helena to the church. For Christ’s sake, he’d managed to get her to run off into London in the dead of night. All in all, his little sibling had managed to deliver a fortune into his keeping. It was a shame that the king wanted her wed in the morning. With a few more months and another parchment bearing his father’s seal, he might be able to sell her a few more times.
Well, what mattered was the gain he’d managed to get for the trouble of housing her. Maybe in a few years he might pressure the Scot to do his bidding. All in the interest of Edmund using his position to ensure a good place for his nephews at court. Even the Scot would bend for that. Even the proudest man crumpled when it came to his family. Once Helena was bred, he’d have an entire new bunch of opportunities to exploit.
Chapter Seven
“Mistress?”
Helena frowned. No one ever called her mistress.
“Mistress? Forgive me, but you must rise.”
Helena opened her eyes. A young maid stood in front of her. The girl was dressed neatly in a fine wool livery dress, each button on her doublet shiny and untarnished. A crisply ironed apron was pinned neatly over her chest and a linen cap covered her head.
“The queen has sent a carriage for you, mistress. You must rise immediately. The royal guards are waiting.”
She must still be dreaming. But her vision showed her the same finely adorned room. Only a hint of light was coming through the open windows, the sun not yet fully risen. The girl fiddled with her apron, clearly agitated.
“Helena.”
Keir’s voice was too strong to be in her dreams. The only tone she heard in her dreams was his teasing one, not this hard one.
She sat up, jerking her head around toward the door. He was frowning at her, distaste in his eyes, but there was something else that cleared the slumber from her mind, because she wanted to understand what it was.
He hid it behind a stern mask before she figured it out. Keir was already wearing his kilt, but the doublet she’d always seen him in was missing. All that covered his chest was a shirt, and the cuffs were rolled up his forearms, allowing her a look at the clearly defined muscles.