“Sanctuary.”
Suddenly, the past he’d worked so hard to forget was staring him down. “I will go with ye.”
He walked outside with the guard, through the bailey and to the gates. As the guard had said, a beautiful woman waited.
“Helen Sutherland?” Alex asked to be sure.
“Aye.”
“I am Alex MacKay, Keely’s husband.”
Helen curtsied. “I know it is late, and I am sorry to disturb the peace in yer home. But my father is a raving lunatic, and I had to get away before he married me off to a decrepit and cruel laird from the isles. This is the only place I thought of—Keely is my only friend. There is nowhere else for me to go.”
Alex considered it. Helen had been kind to his wife—providing what comfort she could when Keely’s own life was in turmoil. And Helen obviously dinna want anything to do with her family, Clan MacKay’s greatest enemy.
“Ye are welcome here.”
“I am?”
He offered his arm and she took it, her leather boots crunching through the snow.
“Where is yer escort?” he asked, surprised the lady would be travelling in the middle of winter by herself.
“Escort?” she repeated as they stepped inside the main hall.
Alex ushered her to the main hearth and offered her a seat in front of it. Helen removed her wet gloves and leaned close to the fire, rubbing her hands.
“Not one man in service to my sire would dare help me. I am chattel, Laird MacKay, meant for one purpose.”
“And what is that?”
“To increase my father’s wealth through a strategic marriage. My heart and happiness have no value in my sire’s eyes.”
“What man did he choose for ye?”
“Laird Baran Munroe.”
Alex’s expression darkened. “No friend of the MacKays.”
“No friend to anyone from what I hear,” she added morosely. “Quick temper, and a murderer if the rumors are true.”
“Aye,” Alex said. “His second wife gave birth to a stillborn lass, and he starved her to death soon after. I am sorry for yer misfortune.”
“As am I.”
“Surely yer father knows the man’s history.”
“Aye. That dinna stop him from signing the betrothal contract. Though in my sire’s defense, he made sure to include conditions for my protection—that Laird Munroe would never deprive me of food and water, or beat me to death if I gave him daughters.”
Alex scratched his chin. “A generous concession on both men’s parts, I am sure.”
Helen laughed. “My father isna a bad man, Laird Alex. He’s simply unfit to bemysire. I am to blame, too. For I have been too quiet and far too obedient all these years, leading my sire to think that I would do anything he asked of me.”
Alex’s sly smile reached his green eyes. “Keely wouldna love a lass so much who dinna have spirit.”
“How is my friend?” Helen asked.
Alex rubbed the back of his head. “Yer timing is of interest,” he admitted. “Keely has just given birth to twins, my son and daughter.”
