“To greet our guest,” Jamie said.
Alex shook his head. “When I last checked, ye dinna live here. Remember the manor house ye demanded as payment for yer service in Constantinople?”
And a fine home it was, complete with a small tower and respectable wall around it, a grand hall fit for a minor laird, and servants who Jamie had handpicked. “Aye. But I keep a room here. After all, I am yer closest kinsman and still on the council.”
Alex rubbed his chin. “Yer service is ever appreciated. And my keep is always yer home, Jamie. But that particular lady is of no importance to ye.”
“Nay?” Jamie gazed past his cousin. “Ye couldna be more wrong. She’s of great interest, for I’m a lonely man in need of the kind of company only a beautiful lass of good breeding could give.”
Alex chuckled. “Since when has good breeding mattered to ye?”
Jamie rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “Since tonight.”
This time Alex threw his head back and laughed so loud it echoed throughout the great hall. Even the lady looked at them.
“What are ye laughing at?” Jamie asked.
“Ye,” Alex said. “I never considered employing a fool until now. For ye are making me laugh so hard it hurts.”
Jamie frowned. “Ye doona have the right to tell me where I can or canna find companionship.”
“Ye are sorely mistaken, Cousin. The lady is no common lass.”
“Who is she?”
“Lady Helen Sutherland.”
The name made Jamie take a step back. “Sutherland?”
“Aye.”
“Keely’s friend?”
“The very one.”
“Why is she here?” The idea of a Sutherland darkening his clan’s ancestral home, whether a helpless lass or a hardened warrior ready to kill, enraged Jamie.
Alex’s expression sobered. “Aye—the name alone boils yer blood.”
“Not with lust.”
“Nay—with hatred.”
“Tis only right.”
“Aye, under normal circumstances, I’d throw any Sutherland in the dungeon and leave him to rot. But Lady Helen isna just a Sutherland. She’s Keely’s closest friend and treated my wife with respect, as if she was her own sister.”
Jamie couldna imagine being in Alex’s position—having to choose between placating his clan by imprisoning the daughter of their sworn enemy or welcoming Lady Helen as an honored guest. “What does she want?”
“Sanctuary.”
“From whom?”
“Her sire.”
“The earl beat her?”
“Nay. Signed a betrothal with a disreputable laird from the isles.”
