Helen couldna hide the hope inside her heart. She needed to know what Jamie planned to do. It mattered greatly, for if she had someone to love, something to truly believe in, she’d fight harder for her independence. “Aye,” she said. “If ye think it will help.”
“Consider it done. Now shall we go to the solar and finish the missive? I am sure your father would like to know how his daughter fares.”
Seated at the table with Petro, she began to write out her thoughts. Though her lettering was legible, Petro had a practiced hand and would produce the final copy. Slowly, the words came to her, everything she’d kept locked up in her heart over the years. But it proved to be too much for her, and she set the writing implement down, her hand shaking.
“I will write for you, Lady Helen.”
Within a few hours, the missive was complete, and Helen read it a last time, hoping it would help her father understand her better and possibly forgive her for running away. She read the last lines aloud, “I implore ye to think about my mother, how she suffered in the end because ye dinna go to her sickbed. I carried that pain, Father. I feared what my life would be like. If ye’d treat me the same way, if I’d be forced to suffer the same, lonely fate. I beg ye to reconsider the marriage to Laird Munroe. He isna a good man, and I would rather commit myself in service to the Almighty, casting aside the ways of this world and live in poverty, than take this man as my husband. I beseech ye to think of my future happiness and of my love for ye, sir.”
“Tis a wonderful missive,” Miran said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “If yer sire doesna free ye from the bonds of marriage with that murdering Munroe laird, then he is not worthy of having ye as his child.”
“Thank ye, Miran.” Helen gave the parchment to Petro. “I am forever in yer debt.”
Petro bowed, then carefully folded the parchment and sealed it with the MacKay mark. “You are the poet, milady, I am only the vessel by which you were able to put your thoughts on parchment. Now if you will excuse me, I will let Laird Alex know it is ready to be delivered to Dunrobin Castle.”
Chapter Twenty
Three weeks later…
“The likeness toye is unbelievable,” Keely said, hugging Ramsey to her chest. “He has been through so much for such a wee one.”
“Aye,” Jamie said, happy Keeley had taken to the babe so quickly.
“He isna two seasons old yet,” Alex observed. “He will grow up with his cousins.”
They had retreated to the women’s solar for privacy, to discuss Jamie’s future and his son’s.
“If Jamie wishes him to live here with us.”
“Aye, tis his choice. But where else would he live, Keely?”
“In Jamie’s home.”
Alex frowned. “I havena forgotten the conversation we started. Remember, hearing such news from one of my captains made me question everything about ye.”
Aye, Jamie had felt guilty ever since. “I dinna lie to ye, Alex. I wanted to wait until the right time, until I was sure tis what I wanted to do.”
Alex reclined on one of the padded chairs. “The MacKays are stronger than we’ve ever been.”
“Aye.”
“Our army is growing.”
“Aye.”
“I require strong captains, men of integrity. Men willing to fight for me.”
“Ye have ten captains who would die for ye without question.”
“Eleven,” Alex corrected.
“If ye include me.”
“I do.”
“The northern region of our lands is sparsely populated and in dire need of protection. Pirates patrol the coast in search of easy targets. The sheep herders are vulnerable and live in fear during the grazing season.” The MacKays owned some of the best flocks in all of Scotland, their quality wool in high demand. “The ship Nudar sailed on went unnoticed, Alex. What if a whole army had landed? What defenses do we have?”
“Patrols make regular rounds.”
