Needed By The Highlander - Rebecca Preston Page 0,42
special pastries today,” Niall said thoughtfully, playing along as he shot Helen a grateful look. “It would sure be a shame if we missed out —”
“Come on, then! We have to go quick!” And just like that, Eamon was satisfied, barking semi-nonsensical orders at them as they got the little boat headed for the docks again.
Helen laughed along with the little boy, very grateful they’d successfully distracted him from the bloodstained raft. But she could tell that Niall was preoccupied with what they’d found, a frown playing across his face as he helped Eamon steer their little craft home. She did what she could to keep the atmosphere light, but she was worried, too. What kind of a creature could be doing this? What was the source of the bloodstains? How many people had been hurt — or worse? And what were they going to do about it?
Whatever the problem, I am glad that Niall is on top of it, she thought, glancing over at the man. There was something about him that just made her feel safe.
Chapter 17
The sober sail back to the shore was over in no time, and Helen found herself swept along in Niall’s wake after he’d tethered the boat to the dock. Eamon was with them, too, clearly convinced they were heading up to the kitchens to procure him a pastry. The promise had felt good in the moment, but now she was a little worried that there wouldn’t be a treat that would satisfy Eamon up at the castle… which would prompt a much bigger tantrum than the one the promise had put off.
But Niall didn’t seem concerned about that as much as he was concerned about finding the Laird. They trotted up the staircase — Niall scooped Eamon into his arms to carry the boy, despite his protests, and Helen found herself breathing hard as she worked to keep up with him. He had much longer legs than her, and was taking the steps two at a time, clearly impatient to get to where they were going. It is a good thing I’ve been doing so much stair practice over the last two weeks, she thought with some amusement as she chased him up the stairs into the courtyard. Once there, he approached a guard to ask where the Laird could be found — then they were headed inside.
“He’s having lunch, the guard said,” Niall told her, Eamon still in his arms, giggling as he tossed him back and forth like a sack of flour. “I hate to interrupt him — he works so hard — but I feel this is an emergency. Have you met Laird Donal yet?”
“No,” Helen said, curious despite her lingering worry about the bloodied rafts. “But Anna’s told me a lot about him.”
“Aye. He’s a good man, and a good leader. He’ll know what to do about all this,” he said firmly as they headed into the dining hall.
Sure enough, there were a handful of men in tartan and armor at the high table, which was raised a little above the rest of the hall. Helen had paid the table no mind during her meals here, much more intent on getting her food organized, but now she scanned the table and the men seated there. That must have been Donal, at the head of the table — a blond man with clear gray eyes, listening intently to the men sitting around him. He is younger than I imagined, she thought with surprise — but there was something about the way that he held himself that suggested that his youth did not suggest immaturity. Just looking at him, she could see why he had the respect of the people of the Keep. Any man who could win a woman like Anna must be something special, she thought with some amusement.
“Do you mind keeping Eamon busy while I make my report?” Niall asked, shuffling the giggling child onto his hip.
She nodded — and before she could react, he dropped the boy in her arms. She froze for a moment — she’d never held a child before — but something instinctive took over and she shuffled him onto her hip easily enough. He sat there happily, one arm around her shoulder, peering around the hall with a predatory look in his eye.
“That’s the Laird,” he told her, pointing imperiously up at the blond man at the head of the table. “And that’s his tanist Malcolm.”