The Saint (Highland Guard #5)(35)

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. She had loved 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.”

“No man has ever tempted you to want both?”

With her fair hair and skin, it was impossible for Muriel to completely hide the heat that rose in her cheeks. Though she was five and twenty, her delicate features and big blue eyes gave her an appearance of a girl much younger.

“Nay,” she said firmly. “I’m not sure it is possible to have two lives—one as a wife and one as a healer. And no one has ever made me an offer that I was tempted to try.”

It was an odd way of phrasing it, but Helen thought of something else. “What of children? I’ve seen how much you love them. Do you never want any of your own?”

The look of raw pain that flashed in Muriel’s eyes disappeared so quickly, Helen wondered if she’d imagined it.

Muriel looked straight ahead and shook her head. “Nay. God has given me another path. I will never have children.”

There was a finality to her voice Helen didn’t understand. Muriel rarely talked about her past, but Helen suspected she had one. She and her father, the famous Nicholas de Corwenne, had arrived at Dunrobin about ten years ago. It had seemed a boon to have such a venerable physician agree to move from Edinburgh to the wilds of northern Scotland—even if it was to be the personal physician of an earl. Now, Helen wondered if there had been another reason.

“And what of you, Helen? What will you do?”

The question startled her. It made it seem as though she had a choice. But women in her position had a duty to marry to further the interests of the clan. The only other “choice” was a convent. She couldn’t do what she wanted, even if she knew what that was. She wanted … everything.

Silly lass. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be content with her lot like other women in her position? She had wealth and position, a family who cared about her, a man who would marry her and give her children … it should be enough. But the subject made her feel restless and anxious.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Stay here, I suppose, until Will marries.” Though her brother was nearing his thirty-second saint’s day, he still had not married. She thought Muriel stiffened at her side, but when Helen glanced over she realized she had been mistaken. “Then … I don’t know.”

“The earl is planning to marry?”

Something in her voice made Helen look at her. Was her face a little pale? She frowned. “Not that I know, but I would not be surprised if that is one of the reasons for the king’s visit.”