The Saint (Highland Guard #5)(86)

Her brother looked down at her empty hands, and she chewed on her lower lip, dismayed to realize she’d left the berries in the cave.

But it wasn’t the missing berries that had caught his attention. He took in her hair, her face, her mouth, and then her rumpled clothing.

Helen looked down. Oh no! The guilty flush drained from her face in horror. The ties of her chemise were hanging outside her gown.

Kenneth’s eyes flashed wildly toward Magnus. “You bastard! By God, I’ll kill you.”

He reached for his sword.

Helen didn’t think. She recognized that look on her brother’s face—the fierce temper that would see no reason—and knew what he was going to do. She heard the whoosh of steel sliding from its scabbard and reacted.

“Don’t!” she cried, lunging in front of Magnus, trying to cut off her brother. But she misjudged Kenneth’s speed; he was much quicker than she remembered.

Magnus shouted a warning in a voice she’d never heard before. “God, Helen, no!”

It happened so fast, yet it seemed to pass in slow motion. She could see the razor-sharp edge of steel coming toward her. See her brother’s tortured expression as he realized what was about to happen and tried to stop the arc of the sword already on it’s downward path. She heard Magnus’s cry of fury as he fought to get his sword, and then his body around in time to protect her. Her eyes widened in horror, as she realized none of it would be in time.

She waited for the pain that she hoped wouldn’t last too long.

But at the last second, Magnus wrapped his ankle around hers, tripping her, and twisted her underneath him as they hit the ground, protecting her with the shield of his body.

She’d never forget the sound the blade made as it whizzed by her ear and landed in the dirt with a thud a few inches from her head.

It was deathly quiet for a long heartbeat. Eventually, her brother’s anguished voice broke the silence. “Oh God, Helen. I’m sorry.” He knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”

But Magnus had pinned her with his gaze, a deadly calm surrounding him. His heart was beating unnaturally slowly—ominously slowly. “Are you all right?”

She was shaking inside but forced herself to answer firmly, “I’m fine.”

He rolled off her and calmly helped her to her feet, but she was not fooled—she could sense the fury emanating from him like the fiery blast of a blacksmith’s bellows. Sailors talked of the eerie calm right before the gates of hell opened wide. This was what it must feel like to be in the eye of the storm, harkening disaster. Her brother didn’t know what was about to hit him.

“Thank God,” Kenneth said.

He started to get to his feet, but Magnus grabbed him by the neck and thrust him up against the closest tree. “You rash, bloody fool! You almost killed her!” He gripped him tighter, cutting off his breath. “I should kill you.”

He seemed intent on doing just that. Kenneth was pulling at his hands, trying to get him to let go. But some kind of supernatural strength had come over Magnus. His arm was like a steel rod; her big, muscular brother couldn’t budge him an inch.

She grabbed at Magnus’s arm, trying to pull it away. “Magnus, please let him go. You’re hurting him.”

His eyes were flat, black with cold rage. For a moment, she didn’t think he heard her. “He almost killed you.”

“He didn’t mean to,” she said softly, as if trying to soothe an angry beast. “It was an accident.”

“Accident? He can’t control his damned temper. He’s undisciplined, rash, and a danger to everyone around him. How can you defend him?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not. But he’s my brother, and I love him. Magnus, please …”

Their eyes held, and slowly she could see the fiery rage begin to dim. He loosened his grip, but gave her brother one last hard shake before releasing him. “If you ever draw your blade around her again, I’ll kill you.”

To her surprise, her brother didn’t threaten him back. For once, Kenneth’s fierce temper seemed chastened.

The two men faced off silently in the darkness, exchanging silent accusations. There was something more going on between them that Helen didn’t understand.

“Did you dishonor her?” Kenneth managed, his breath still ragged and hoarse.

Magnus stiffened, but before he could answer, Helen turned on her brother. “That’s enough, Kenneth! You are my brother, not my father. I’ve had enough of your interference, and I won’t have any more. I did what you asked of me once, but I won’t do it again. I love him. Nothing Magnus could do would dishonor me.”

Her brother ignored her. His eyes burned into Magnus’s. “Did you?” he seethed. “I’m her guardian for this journey; I have a right to know.”

Magnus’s mouth thinned. It was clear he wanted to tell her brother to go to Hades, but equally clear that he recognized Kenneth’s authority even if she did not. “Nay.”

“But I should like him to,” Helen insisted.

They both turned to her at the same time and said, “Helen, shut up!”

Or maybe Kenneth had said it, and Magnus had only looked it, but the shock to her was the same. Perhaps she should be glad that they were always at one another’s throats; if they ever decided to join forces against her she might be in trouble.