“And how has that leniency served ye, Laird MacKay? If the rumors are true, yer very own wife dishonored yer clan by running away for five years.”
Jamie and several other men shot up from their chairs.
Alex held up his hand. “If ye ever speak of my wife again, I’ll have ye flogged and thrown into a cell. Since ye lack manners and decency where women are concerned, I think it necessary to summon Lady Helen so she can speak on her own behalf.”
“I am curious what the lady has to say,” Duncan said.
“Earvin, inform Lady Helen’s guards that I want her escorted to the great hall. Bring her maid as well.”
“Aye, milord.” The lad left the room.
Jamie leaned close to Alex. “Ye’ve already granted her sanctuary.”
“Ye take much interest in a woman I’ve commanded ye to stay away from.”
“Twas me who captured that pile of shite.”
“Aye,” Alex reluctantly admitted. “I canna dispute that. Ye are the perfect soldier, Jamie, with instincts that rival a wild beast’s. But doona be overly flattered by what I say, for the beasts might have incredible survival skills, but when it comes to rutting, they are blinded by lust and ruled by their pricks.”
Jamie folded his arms across his chest. “I wouldna hurt Lady Helen.”
“Not intentionally,” Alex said.
“Not for any reason.”
Looking as proud as a queen, Lady Helen, flanked by two guards and her maid, entered the great hall, silencing everyone. Dressed in a deep-blue wool gown with her long golden hair braided, Jamie imagined what her sweet lips would feel like against his own. Would she open up to him or reject his kisses? His gaze travelled lazily down her form, over her slim neck to her proud shoulders, and stopped where her generous breasts spilled over the neckline of her fine gown. She wore few embellishments: only a gold choker and a ruby ring on her right hand.
“Good morn, Lady Helen,” Alex said.
“Milord.” Helen curtsied.
“I apologize for calling ye from the comfort of yer chamber so early.”
“Tis fine, milord, I have already broken my fast.”
“If ye would look upon the man sitting in that chair.” Alex pointed to Duncan. “Do ye recognize him?”
Jamie dinna miss Helen’s startled look. Aye, it only lasted for a blink of an eye before she recovered her composure, but he saw it. Which meant she dinna like Duncan.
“Aye, milord. His name is Duncan Munroe. He’s a guest at Dunrobin Castle, sent as a representative of Clan Munroe to conduct his uncle’s business with my sire.”
“And when did ye first meet him?”
“The day my father called me to his solar to get me to sign the betrothal contract with Laird Munroe.”
“Did ye sign the contract, Lady Helen?” Alex asked.
“Nay.”
Duncan cursed and stood. “Tis a lie. I have a copy of the contract right here.”
Rage uncoiled in Jamie’s gut—how could Alex allow the vermin to openly insult Lady Helen? He had to fight to keep his mouth shut.
“Ye carry a copy of the contract with ye?” Alex asked, sounding surprised.
“At the behest of my uncle. Would ye care to see it?”
“Sir,” Lady Helen said quietly, turning to Duncan, “I never signed a contract.”
