His face had turned a little red, but Helen hadn’t thought anything of it at the time.
It was only later when she’d caught sight of him with a group of young warriors, which included her brother Kenneth, that she realized he’d been anticipating their reaction to the flower.
“What’s that, MacKay? A favor from your lady?” one of the men said.
“He must think he’s a bloody English knight,” someone else said.
“Or maybe it’s meant for his grave,” the first man countered. “MacLeod is going to kill him.”
“How sweet,” her brother said. “It really brings out the rosiness in your delicate complexion.”
The men all laughed, and Magnus stood there taking their taunts without saying a word. She knew how proud he was and seeing him forced to endure their laughter because of her…
She wanted to rush over there and tear the offending flower off hiscotunherself. But he left it there the entire time.To please me, she realized. It was at that moment she knew how different he was—how special—and she’d lost her heart to him.
Her chest squeezed. How could she have been uncertain in her feelings? Why hadn’t she trusted herself? How could she have been so weak and failed to seize the chance given her?
Donald dropped her hand to bend down, snapping the stem in half. Heat gathered behind her eyes as he tucked the stem behind her ear, wishing with all of her heart that he was someone else. “You look like a May Queen.”
Not knowing what to say, she was glad when she heard the sound of a door opening. Seeing Muriel standing in the doorway watching them, she thanked him and hurried to join her friend.
It wasn’t until much later, when she and Muriel were returning from visiting one of the crofters who had tripped on a spade and had fortunately only twisted rather than broken his ankle, that Muriel made a comment on what she’d seen. “Your brother’s henchman has been around often of late.”
“Donald?” Helen shrugged. “Aye, Will has him patrolling our borders to the north.”
Muriel’s mouth twisted as if she were trying to hold back a smile. “I very much doubt a sudden fear of raiders from the north is the cause.”
Her brows furrowed. “Then why?”
Muriel shook her head, this time unable to hold back her smile. “He’s wooing you, Helen.”
Helen came to an abrupt stop. Her body pulled back in surprise. “Wooing me? Don’t be ridiculous.”
But even as she made her denial, she realized it could be true. Since William Gordon’s death, she’d sensed a shift in Donald’s attentions to her. He’d always been protective, but lately that protectiveness had seemed more intense. More personal. More intimate.
Muriel watched as understanding dawned.
Horror drained Helen’s face. “Oh God, is it true?”
“Is the idea so unpleasant?”
Helen bit her lip. “Yes…No…I’ve just never thought of him that way.”
She’d only thought of one man that way.
“It would not be an advantageous alliance, but it would not be a bad one either.”
Helen felt the reflexive burst of panic at the thought of marriage. She knew her friend was only trying to be helpful, but she couldn’t even think of marriage right now. Or maybe ever.
“You must have loved him very much,” Muriel said compassionately.
“I—” She stopped, nodding as if in agreement. Shehadloved him very much, just not the man her friend thought. Though they’d spent virtually every day together since Helen had returned from Dunstaffnage, she had not confided the details of the nightmare that had been her wedding. Muriel assumed her unhappiness was the result of losing her husband. Helen’s shame prevented her from confiding the truth.
They started to walk again. The square keep of the castle perched on the cliffside overlooking the kyle loomed ahead of them.
“Have you ever regretted not taking a husband?” Helen asked.
Muriel shook her head. “I love what I do, but it does not leave much time to be a wife.”
