The Saint (Highland Guard #5)(67)

In less than half an hour, Helen had washed her face and hands free of dirt and debris, bound her ankle in a cloth, changed her gown, and made her way back down to the Great Hall.

She felt a flutter of nerves, anxious to hear what the king had decided. The circumstances of her return had prevented her from gauging Magnus’s reaction.

The tables in the Hall had been cleared for the men to sleep, so Helen wasn’t surprised to be ushered into her brother’s solar. She was, however, surprised to see who was waiting for her.

He stood guard at the door. Something about the way he was leaning with his arms folded across his chest made her pulse stutter. The deceptively lazy stance didn’t fool her. He was furious. But what for: last night, joining their progress, or her late return?

He appeared not to notice her until she tried to pass him, and he moved to block her. Normally, she would very much like the sensations that came with having that broad chest so near, but the fury emanating from him was setting off rather loud warning bells.

She ventured a glance up at him from under her lashes and bit her lip. Not good. Not good at all.

“Excuse me,” she said chirpily, trying to hide her nervousness. “The king is waiting for me.”

He wasn’t fooled. He leaned closer, trying to intimidate her with his size. It was appallingly effective. He towered over her, and outweighed her at least two times over. It was clear she wasn’t going anywhere until he wanted her to.

“Aye, but we haven’t finished talking about your wee excursion today.”

The late return. At least she knew which of her many transgressions had angered him this time.

She lifted her chin, refusing to be bullied by yet another overprotective male. “I apologize if I caused you any trouble, but I assure you there was nothing to worry about. Besides, I hardly see what concern it could be of yours.”

His mouth thinned. “Don’t press me, Helen. I’m not in the mood for games. You will not go anywhere from now on without a proper escort. Do you understand? I’ll not have you in danger.”

She definitely didn’t like his tone. “Danger? Don’t you think you are overreacting just a bit? And you are not my brother or my husband; you have no right to order me about.”

She would have flounced past him, but he caught her arm. She could feel the warm imprint of his fingers seeping through her gown.

He acted as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll have your promise, Helen. You will not go anywhere alone.”

One look at his face and she knew he would not be denied. She gazed into the impenetrable mask, wondering what this was truly about. Had she worried him that much? “This is that important to you?”

“It is.”

The fight seeped out of her. She might not like the way he’d gone about issuing his edicts, but she warmed to the sentiment behind it. “Very well. I promise.”

He nodded and let her go, standing back so she could go inside. He waited for her to pass by him before he whispered, “And Helen, there is still the matter of a certain rash to discuss.”

Her step faltered. She winced, a guilty flush staining her cheeks. He’d found out about that, had he? She was not deceived by his light tone. She knew there would be the devil to pay for that later.

The talking stopped when she entered the room, but she could see from the men’s expressions that she’d entered in the midst of a heated discussion.

Will, in particular, looked furious, though he was doing his best not to show it.

“Ah, Lady Helen.” The king rose to greet her, ever the knight. “I heard you had a bit of a mishap—I hope you are all right?”

Magnus closed the door behind her and moved around to take his position beside the king.

“Perfectly fine, Sire. I would not be much of a healer if I could not tend to a few scrapes and a twisted ankle.”

She’d given him the opening, hoping he’d take it, and he did so with a broad smile. “It is your healing skills that we were just discussing. I’ve expressed to your brother my desire to have you join our progress across the Highlands. I fear I’ve come to depend on you quite shamefully.”

“I’m honored, Your Grace.” Helen beamed. It had worked! Her plan had worked!

She chanced a glance at Magnus, but his stony countenance gave no hint of his thoughts on the subject. Yet she couldn’t believe he’d gone along with this willingly. He’d made no secret of his eagerness to be rid of her.

Will’s thoughts as he addressed her, however, were far more obvious. “We are indeed honored, but as your brother and laird, I am of course concerned about your safety.” He turned to the king. “Helen is not a healer; she is a gently reared lady who has been gracious enough to help our clan until another healer can be found.”

The king smiled. “Your sister’s position is not in doubt. She will be my guest, not my servant. I understand your concern, but I assure you she will be well looked after and protected as if she were my own sister, which I hope she will be soon enough.”

Will’s gaze slid to Magnus and his mouth tightened, as if he suspected exactly who would be protecting her.

“Of course,” the king conceded, “I can understand if you would like to send some of your men along as guardsmen. Perhaps your brother would care to join our party as well?”

Helen’s gaze flew to Magnus, but his lack of reaction told her he probably knew of the king’s suggestion to include Kenneth ahead of time. She scrunched her nose, not pleased by the new wrinkle in her plan. Having Kenneth along was certainly less than ideal, but she supposed the fact that she was going at all was what mattered. Besides, she couldn’t help but feel proud for her brother, who was obviously pleased to have caught the king’s attention.