Grumbling, Helena sat up, pulling the sheet over her naked body and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. With a deep yawn, she climbed out of bed, clutching the sheet to her body as she retrieved her undergarments.
Alexander stood by the fireplace, leaning against the mantel and watching her desperate attempts not to drop the sheet with sheer amusement.
“Ye ken I saw every part of ye last night, right?” he teased with a smirk, his eyes darkening with desire.
“Shh, ye brute. Why dinnae ye tell the world.”
She blushed, throwing a pillow at him with a shy laugh. She managed to secure her undergarments without dropping the sheet, and he helped her into her dress, lacing her bodice instead of calling a maid in.
He hadn’t thought to grab her brush though, so he lent her his, the soft bristles only doing so much to detangle her dark curls.
Another knock at the door stopped them both in their tracks.
“Alexander! Get yer arse down there before we have a full-fledged war in the hall!” Alice screamed, banging on the door.
“Oh dear, we’d better go.” Helena made her way to the door and pulled it open, shocking Alice briefly, as she had obviously expected her brother to be the one behind the door. “We’re comin’. I’m so sorry.”
“I just hope ye can calm him down.”
The three moved hastily down the stairs, with Alexander taking the lead and Alice bringing up the rear.
Upon seeing Helena, Chester stopped yelling at Michael. He strode over and made a grab for her. However, he wasn’t expecting to be blocked by Alexander, who was having none of it, which only offended him further.
“Ye are an intolerable child, ye ken that? I willnae have this, ye are comin’ home with me. Right now. This marriage will be annulled,” he barked.
“I’m afraid that willnae be happenin’, Laird MacPherson,” Alexander said calmly, standing firmly between father and daughter. He towered over the older man, looking down his nose at him. “Our marriage is legal and was consummated. There is nothing ye can do about it. Ye have nay grounds to have it annulled.”
Helena blushed feverishly beside him. Luckily, he seemed to be the only one who noticed her embarrassment.
“I dinnae believe ye,” Chester retorted. “Unless the lass is pregnant already. Are ye, girl?”
The question caught Helena completely off guard.
“I… I…” she stammered.
“It’s too soon to tell, but I wouldnae be surprised if she were,” Alice interjected.
Chester glared at all of them, not satisfied with that answer.
“Fine, then I’ll be stayin’ to find out. If ye”—he waved a finger in Helena’s face—“arenae pregnant by the end of the month, ye’re goin’ home with me without another word of protest.”
“Oh nay, ye willnae.” Alexander pushed Helena further behind him. Michael stepped up beside him to form a solid wall of flesh between father and daughter. “This is me keep, and ye are me guest until I say otherwise. And I am sayin’ otherwise. Ye have already outstayed yer welcome, and ye’ve been in me home for less than a day.”
Chester seethed at the brothers, the urge to start a full-out brawl written all over his face.
“Ye lookin’ for a fight, Laird MacPherson?” Alexander asked, his lips curling into a smirk. “I’d be happy to indulge ye.”
“Want to die so young, Laird MacAllister?” Chester shot back, glaring at him.
“I suggest ye take yer leave, Laird MacPherson. Me braither isnae goin’ to tell ye nicely twice,” Michael warned.
“Ye got married in secret! Without me permission!” Chester growled, looking over at Helena. “Why? Why would ye hurt me so? After yer cousin… yer braither…”
“Faither,” Helena whispered, tears springing to her eyes. “We cannae have so much bloodshed… They died because of it.”
“Because of the MacAllisters!” Chester spat. “Ye ken?”
“Faither, please… give it a chance. Peace… it’s somethin’ we all crave.”
