Saundra glanced up at Helene. “Damn that man. I told him to leave ye be.”
“Do ye ken what he wants?”
“I’m afraid I do, but ’tis nae me place to say anything without putting meself on his bad side.”
“I dinnae wish ye to do that, Aunt.” Dougall took her hand and led her to Helene. “This is Helene. She’s to be me wife. Helene this is me Aunt Saundra”
“I’m verra pleased to meet ye.” Helene smiled at his aunt, but his aunt seemed unable to return it in kind. Instead she silently nodded and looked back at Dougall with an unreadable expression on her pretty face.
“Aunt, is all well?”
“Ye’ll find out soon enough. Ye’d best go see yer Da before he finds out yer here and speaking with me first instead of him.”
“We’ll see ye for the evening meal then?”
“Aye. Ye will.” She smiled warmly at her nephew.
Dougall helped Helene from her horse and handed the reins to Logan, who took the horses from him.
“Good luck to ye.” Logan said as he walked away and left them.
“What is this bad feeling I have? Yer aunt and Logan both seem to ken something about this meeting and it doesnae seem to be good.” It appeared nerves were getting the better of them both.
“We’ll find out soon enough. Come. Let’s enter into the lion’s den, shall we?” He smiled at Helene, trying to make light of their situation, but she wasn’t smiling back.
The people in the courtyard went on about their business, hardly aware that the laird’s son had just arrived. Dougall couldnae blame them. He hadn’t been here in years and therefore was of no importance to them. He placed a protective hand at the small of Helene’s back and led her to the doors. Was he imagining things, or was she dragging her feet, slowing their progress.
“’Tis alright, Helene. I’m here with ye. Ye’ve nae a thing to fear.” He felt her shudder under his touch. Damn, how could he expect her not to be apprehensive when he himself had no idea what to expect.
Entering the great hall, Dougall spied his father seated at the head of the room.
“Dougall! Is it ye that I see?” Paddraig MacRae sprang to his feet, seeming to be exceedingly happy to see his son.
“Aye, Da, ’tis.” He led Helene further into the room and felt the sensation of pushing her forward.
“Who is this ye’ve brought with ye?” Paddraig asked, his voice becoming gruff with disapproval. “I told Logan to bring ye. I wasnae expecting anyone else.” Dougall was barely able to get his mouth open. “Well, I asked ye a question, lad. Who is she?”
Helene was visibly shaking now and Dougall did his best to comfort her in the face of this verbal onslaught. He placed a reassuring arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Da, this is me betrothed, Helene.”
“Betrothed!” His disgust was visible. “Ye cannae be serious. Who’s yer family lass?”
“I’m an orphan sir. I’ve lived with the MacKenzies since I was a young child.” Helene’s voice quivered in obvious fear.
“And whowereyour parents then?” Paddraig barked.
Helene’s tremulous voice was barely audible. “Me parents were servants who worked for the MacKenzies.”
“Dougall!” Paddraig roared. “How dare ye bring this… this… classless servant to me home and tell me she’s yer betrothed. I’ll nae have it.”
“Da. Ye have nae say here. I intend to marry Helene with or without yer approval.” He spouted these words through gritted teeth as he fought to control his temper. The urge to put his father in his place was strong, but he didn’t wish to make the situation any worse than it had already become.
“Ye dinnae have me approval, lad and ye never will. In fact, the reason I sent fer ye is that I have agreed that ye shall marry the Matheson’s daughter, Greer. She is of the proper station in life to be yer wife. Ye were in love with her when ye were a young lad. Ye’ll be happy to ken she’s grown into quite the beauty.” He glanced Helene’s way and sneered.
“Da. I’m marrying Helene.” Dougall’s anger was bubbling over, but it would do him no good to cause his father to go off on one of his crazed outbursts. Outbursts he’d seen plenty of as a young lad.
“Ah, I see. Ye love this lass then?” Paddraig was using his normal speaking voice again, but Dougall knew nothing had changed.
“Aye. I do.” He grasped Helene’s hand, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb in an attempt to soothe her and soothe himself.
