Prologue
Status Saves the Redcoat
“It’s time to be goin’, lassie! Get out of bed!” called Helena’s caretaker, Melinda. A small groan emitted from under the covers of a large bed, big enough for several people. The source of the groan rolled over in bed and pulled the covers over her head. She had just been in the middle of an amazing dream. The room slept in by the girl had walls with a fresh looking-green color to them. Her room was very earth-toned, making it relaxing. There was a dresser about five feet from the door, with a large plant on top. It was kept watered by the maids as were the other plants that hung from the ceiling, with long leafy vines, flowers budding. The bed had a veil-like curtain hanging all around it. The curtain was a deep green, showing only the silhouette of the girl in bed. She edged over to the left side of her bed, looking out her window that showed a side view of the balcony. She smiled at the sun as it rose over the horizon and giggled as a flock of birds flew out from one side, out of her view and across the dawn-lit sky. She crawled over to the other side of the bed, sliding her feet into her house slippers. She pulled her white robe on over the small night gown she wore and stepped out onto the balcony, opening up the doors and walking into the dim light that was coming out.
She had lived in the Castle O’Malley her entire life, and each year, her room changed in various ways, because every few years, she’d add another momentum to the collection. Her favorite kinds of memorabilia were books and plants. She had four bookcases stocked full of wonderful books found from all over Scotland and even a couple she filched in England. Her father and mother were both close friends to Harold O’Malley. It wasn’t always easy, mind. Sure, she grew up well off but having a father bent on marrying her rather than let her live the life she inevitably would live, was not the easiest thing in the world to deal with. Often as a girl, she would be introduced to new men, some older than her by a couple short years, one or two, though, had a distance of ten years between them. Each one was refused. Her father could not make her sign a marriage contract and he could not make her walk down the aisle. He tried and failed every time.
She breathed in the morning air, smiling as she looked down over the edge of the balcony to see many men wearing the O’Malley tartan. Tonight was a night not meant for women, thus why she was in her room and planned to stay there. Tonight the Clan would renew oaths given to Harold. It was an annual thing. She knew that there wasn’t a man in this castle that would be sober by the time the oaths were finished. Considering a sip of spirit would be shared, that was highly unlikely. She chuckled at the thought and went back into her room, but not before hearing her name called from below. She went back to the edge of the balcony to see Davy James O’Malley. He was Harold’s oldest son. She smiled and waved down to him. He returned it happily. He had brown hair, which was not completely uncommon. He was sometimes encouraged to dye it, but, always said he was proud of the way he looked no matter what anyone else said about it. His eyes, again, brown, deep and dark like bark. He was big, even for a full grown man; he was built like a house.
She leaned on the stone balcony. You could only see her from the waist up from the ground, because there was no rail, just a stone wall about two feet high. She had her arms folded across her waist, looking down at him. He greeted her, asking her to join him to the Oath-Ceremony tonight. She thought about accepting, but countered with the fact that there would not be a clear head in the house. When greeted with this form of rejection, he grinned his wide pearly white smile, and asked again, promising to be her protector.
This offer was a little more tempting. Davy was a good man, a ferocious warrior, and some of the local girls claim he is a fierce lover as well. She knew they were right whether with experience with him or not. Yet, in the end, he didn’t strike her as the type of man she would be marrying, so, she declined to avoid leading him on. Once again, he tried a different tactic. Seeing he wouldn’t give up, she finally accepted, threatening to point her finger at him when her father asked about it, which he was sure to. He seemed incredibly thrilled by this, even with the threat of her vicious father aiming his sword at him later should harm befall her. He bowed, bid her a good-morning, promising to see her at breakfast, and then strode off with his chest puffed out and his head held high.
She had to smile and shake her head as she went into her room, changing into her normal white blouse, a maroon vest, a long light-tan skirt and her boots. She pulled her long shadowy red hair back into a low ponytail after brushing it out a hundred times. She looked in the mirror to see how it looked. Her eyes were a deep emerald-like green, with a sparkle to them like grass as the sun shines on the dew. She was tall, but not too tall and slim. She had a long slender neck, wide hips, good for bearing sons, she was told, and a tiny waist. She was not incredibly large, chest wise, but enough that men would often stare. She disliked her rump. It wasn’t unseemly, but more than once had she been told “It just so round and taut, I couldn’t help meself.” It was a rather large annoyance in her daily life. Her hands were small with long fingers. Helen was good about keeping her nails clean, too. Her skin was fair, not a mark on her, and very beautiful. She was aware that she was pretty, but doubted that she was beautiful by any sense of the word. After getting changed into her clothes for the day, she then went to the basin by her bed and washed her face, being sure not to get her blouse wet. She dried her face and went downstairs; pulling on the bracelet Davy got her for her birthday last year, and the necklace her brother got her for the same birthday. It always seemed to mean so much to Davy for her to wear it. She knew he liked her, and that was something she was alright with, seeing as he was indeed a good man. She just hoped he’d realize that she didn’t refuse so strongly his offer because of a fear of drunks, but of the fear of breaking his heart.
She walked down a corridor, having gone back and getting a candle. There were no windows in the inner part of the castle, making it very dark until the daylight lit up the castle by shining through open doors and such. She walked with the candle in hand, using a small silver plate, like one someone might use for their tea cup, only with a small handle, to keep from being burned by hot wax. She found her way into the lower levels, seeing the sunlight fill up the entire bottom floor from all the windows. She smiled and blew out her candle, letting a servant take it from her. She then went to the dining room to find Harold, Davy, her brother Sean, her friend Sara, Davy’s sister, and her parents sitting and eating. She was apparently late. She smiled a bit and sat down across from Sara, next to Davy. Sara had a grin on her face as she looked up from her plate, one that suggested that she had sat beside Davy for personal reasons. Of course, Helena shook her head no. She smiled and thanked the serving-girl who brought her meal to her, and dug in after saying a quiet grace.
No one in the Castle of O’Malley dared eat without saying grace first. The strict Christian man would not have food eaten without thanking the Lord. It was rather silly, how upset he would get. She never forgot, herself, though. It would not bode well for her at all if she did. As a girl growing up, she was taught always, always, thank the Lord for what you are given. She of course, being a child, did as she was told without a question or second thought but sometimes, it was annoying to have to say grace, especially when you were half-starved. She did it anyway, not wanting to be whipped, but the annoyance was always there.
“Helen,” Davy whispered to her gently, “would ye care to go ridin’ todey? Sean, Sara and I were goin’ to go, if’n ye’d like to come, ya can.” She turned her head, pulling it back a bit so her face was not so close to his, but not enough to give the impression she was offended by his closeness, she smiled at him.
She put a hand gently on his shoulder and whispered back, “As long as yer flask stays home, I’ll be comin’.” He smiled, obviously pleased, and leaned back, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder indicating for her to lean forward, so he could say something to Sean, who, sat on her opposite side. She only grinned and obliged as he said in Gaelic, forgetting that she was fluent in Gaelic just like everyone else here, “She said she’ll go!” She giggled and said, “It’s no as if canna understand ye, Davy.”
He grinned sheepishly and took his hand off her shoulder as he went back to eating. Sara giggled along with her as she attempted feebly to eat her breakfast, but, like Helen, they both nearly fell out of their seats. Davy didn’t see why it was so funny, but the fact that he had to report it to his best friend immediately made it so childish that it was rather hysterical. Harold and her parents, Sean Sr. and Mary, all looked rather confused but said nothing. They gave small nervous smiles and kept eating.
After breakfast, Sara and Helen, chatting quietly, headed out to the stables. “He likes ya, Helen. Ye know this, doncha?” Helen only blushed a bit and nodded, dismissing it by starting on a topic about herbs. Helena and Sara were both healers, Helen was admittedly more experienced that Sara, who, only took interest in it around age ten whereas Helen had been learning from only a year out of her toddler years, but they were both good at it. The subject stuck until Davy could be seen walking on the edge of a beam meant to tie the horses’ reins up on while you brushed them, so you could do it in the sun instead of in the vile-smelling barn. He wore trousers, in favor of his kilt, since winters chill had not completely left. His shirt was white- that was until he found his show-offy stepping to be off place by half an inch, sending him to the ground. Sara laughed but Helen raced forward. Had it been Sean Jr. named after their father, Sara would have raced forward while Helen laughed. Helen went over and crouched beside him, saying gently to him as she put a hand on his cheek, making him face her so he couldn’t shrug it off, “Are you alright?”
He smiled at her and nodded, “Helen, ye should know by now. There’s not a Scot that canna take a fall.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she helped him to stand, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. At least, that was the plan, but Sara pushed her down on top of him. She blushed furiously as she stared down at Davy, who, only grinned a bit and helped her up, saying gently, “Are you gonna take that? From ‘er?”
She shook her head smiling as she took off after Sara, only to be caught on the right arm, in the gut, by Sean Jr., who drew her in, and then Sara caught by his left, so he was hugging them both against him. Their backs were against his chest as the giggled and squirmed. Davy dusted himself off as he smiled at the sight, saying to Sean, “Sean, me boy, ye’ve got yerself two right fine lasses there. Mind if I take one off yer hands?” He said grabbing Helen’s hand and pulling her toward him. She blushed again as she bumped against him, Davy having a firm but gentle grip on both wrists. He used this grip to pull her closer to him, smiling softly down at her. He released one wrist only to wrap it around her waist, pulling her fully against him. Now, should Sean Sr. see this little sight, Davy might be in a bit of trouble. Should Harold see it, praises would go all around. Sara and Sean were married whereas Davy and Helen weren’t even promised to each other. Flirting like this could lead to some problems if it got out of hand.
She blushed a bit more as he traced her jaw line, having to smile a bit. She did like Davy, really she did, but not in any romantic kind of way. She was relieved when Sean said, “Alright, now, Davy, get yer hands off me sister so we can be off and back in time for the Oath takin’, alright?” He nodded and released her. She went into the stables and went to her copper colored horse and put a blanket on its back, so it would not be discomforted by the saddle. She then put on the saddle carefully strapping it onto the horse. She yelped as her horse let out a loud whinny, surprising her and sending her backwards. She sighed with relief as two strong arms caught her and lifted her upright. She turned as she stood to see who had saved her from the nasty fall.
She looked up to at Davy who stood there with a soft grin on his face. His hand moved to her neck, his thumb stroking her earlobe gently, “Careful there, lass. Don’t want ye to be gettin’ hurt now, do we?” Helen shook her head a bit and went back to saddling up her horse. She was brushing the mane, seeing as Sara and Sean managed to slip out silently for a little wife-to-husband fun. Davy was in the stall next to her, also readying his horse for when the love birds returned. After a time, he started singing an old Celtic song. It was a love song, and with his deep voice, he would do well as a bard. The song told of a man who loved a girl much better off than he and it told of his many attempts to win her. Finally, she told him to his face that she was not meant for him, but to look over his shoulder. Surely enough, a woman more beautiful than any star, more stunning than any dawn and smarter than the wisest woman, even so young, was standing there, wishing he’d look at her the way he had once looked at the richer lass. They were wed, having fallen madly in love and all was well.
This song made Helena feel a pang in her chest. That song related greatly the situation between herself and Davy. In this case, Helen was the woman the man currently had his focus on, when there was another meant for him. She sighed. She needed to settle this now, before he got hurt. “Davy…” She started softly. He looked up from his horse. “Davy, there’s really something I should tell ye. Yer not gonna like it…”
“What is it, Helena?” He said coming around from his horse and cupping her face in his hands, looking at her with a concerned look in his eyes and a tiny supportive grin. God, why was she turning this man down? He was everything she could want or need. Yet, her heart said no.
She sighed. She had to do this now before she got another stupid notion in her head that it could ever work. “Davy, Sara tells me ye…er…are fond of me, and, I am of you as well,” He lightened at this, “but not in the same way as ya might be of me.” He seemed to get the point from there. “Davy, you are a good man, ya are. Yer just not the man for me…I don’t mean to hurt you, Davy, I don’t. I canna tell my heart to fall for you, though there were times where it didn’t seem like I had a choice.” She grinned and noticed he did too. “Who knows? Maybe someday something will happen, but right now, I don’t think anything will. It’s like the song, maybe there’s someone else, right around the bend, just waiting for you to look at them. Please don’t be hatin’ me? I’d like it very much to remain good friends with ye, Davy.”
He nodded slowly, “I understand, lass. I canna hate ya, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. Pa’s been tellin’ me that it was a far-fetched chance I’d win yer heart. Can I just get one thing out of my mind before I swear never to advance on ye again?”
She nodded and he cupped her face in his hands gently, one hand sliding back up into her hair, around the nape of her neck, and he softly fitted his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately. She had a gentle hand on his arm as he did, obliging and returning the kiss. When he pulled away, he smiled at her and said softly, “Now, I swear never to be makin’ such a bold movement on you again, however, I also swear to kill the next man who goes tryin’.”
“Davy!” She protested with a giggle as she pulled away to continue brushing her horse. “You’ll do no such thing!” She was still giggling, knowing very well that he would.
He glanced at her with a broad smile, saying kindly but firm, “Lass, ye know I will if’n I have to. Besides, even if I canna love you like I might like to, I still love you like Sean does, like a sister, that is, and I’ll be damned if I’m to let some unworthy man sweep in and take ye when I could not.” She smiled, shaking her head gently as she continued to brush the horse.
It was roughly another twenty minutes before Sara and Sean returned. They both seem rather flustered and red-faced, in a good way. Sara giggled as Sean’s hand supposedly on accident, slipped up her skirts. She swatted his hand away whispering something about not wanting to do such things in front of her brother. Helena mounted her horse and found that she was the first one out of the stables. Sara rode up next to her as they went out into the forest. She instantly said in a whisper as the boys rode back behind, “Well, what happened while me and Sean were…er…talking?”
Helen rolled her eyes. “Firstly, I’m not a fool. You two did more than talkin’.” She said with a wry grin at Sara, making her blush. She then said softly, “Nothing of interest happened, Sara, and no matter how much you ask, I’ll not tell you anyway.” Sara looked put out, so she hung back to talk to the men.
Helen heard a cry, one obviously her laughing companions did not, and kicked her horse into a gallop, riding at full speed toward the sound. She stopped in the middle of the path as she heard it again, to the right. She urged her horse that way, ignoring Davy as he cried, “Helen! Get back here!” She pressed on, seeing a young man injured in the middle of a meadow; she leaped off her horse and ran at him, hitting her knees as she checked him for injuries.
“Sara! Come, quickly! He’s hurt!” She touched the man’s cheek gently, making him face her. He stared up at her, dazed. He tried to speak, but only passed out. He had a gash in his arm and leg, his right shoulder broken. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Davy and Sean ran over, wanting to kill him. It took her a moment to over look the injured man to see an injured Redcoat. She then argued, “Please, Davy, you would not leave a man to die so cruelly?” He grunted indignantly. She looked back at the injured man and said gently, “Davy, he might be able to help.”
“How is a damned pampered pup like ‘im goin’ to be helpin’ me?” She stood as Sara looked him over for herself and went to Davy, looking him in the eye as she pointed to his insignia. He was a Captain, meaning he must know something.
Davy and Sean walked a far bit away and discussed it, glancing back over at them as the girls did what they could for the man. When they came back over, they agreed to take him back. She touched the man’s cheek again. If he wasn’t so dirty, she might be able to tell what he looked like. She sighed softly and let Davy and Sean lift him onto the back of her horse, seeing as this was her idea. She whispered to herself as the others went on ahead, the man in front of her in the saddle, “I may only have saved you because of your rank, but at least you’ll live another day, Redcoat.” She kicked the horse into a gallop and they headed back to the castle.
Status Saves the Redcoat
“It’s time to be goin’, lassie! Get out of bed!” called Helena’s caretaker, Melinda. A small groan emitted from under the covers of a large bed, big enough for several people. The source of the groan rolled over in bed and pulled the covers over her head. She had just been in the middle of an amazing dream. The room slept in by the girl had walls with a fresh looking-green color to them. Her room was very earth-toned, making it relaxing. There was a dresser about five feet from the door, with a large plant on top. It was kept watered by the maids as were the other plants that hung from the ceiling, with long leafy vines, flowers budding. The bed had a veil-like curtain hanging all around it. The curtain was a deep green, showing only the silhouette of the girl in bed. She edged over to the left side of her bed, looking out her window that showed a side view of the balcony. She smiled at the sun as it rose over the horizon and giggled as a flock of birds flew out from one side, out of her view and across the dawn-lit sky. She crawled over to the other side of the bed, sliding her feet into her house slippers. She pulled her white robe on over the small night gown she wore and stepped out onto the balcony, opening up the doors and walking into the dim light that was coming out.
She had lived in the Castle O’Malley her entire life, and each year, her room changed in various ways, because every few years, she’d add another momentum to the collection. Her favorite kinds of memorabilia were books and plants. She had four bookcases stocked full of wonderful books found from all over Scotland and even a couple she filched in England. Her father and mother were both close friends to Harold O’Malley. It wasn’t always easy, mind. Sure, she grew up well off but having a father bent on marrying her rather than let her live the life she inevitably would live, was not the easiest thing in the world to deal with. Often as a girl, she would be introduced to new men, some older than her by a couple short years, one or two, though, had a distance of ten years between them. Each one was refused. Her father could not make her sign a marriage contract and he could not make her walk down the aisle. He tried and failed every time.
She breathed in the morning air, smiling as she looked down over the edge of the balcony to see many men wearing the O’Malley tartan. Tonight was a night not meant for women, thus why she was in her room and planned to stay there. Tonight the Clan would renew oaths given to Harold. It was an annual thing. She knew that there wasn’t a man in this castle that would be sober by the time the oaths were finished. Considering a sip of spirit would be shared, that was highly unlikely. She chuckled at the thought and went back into her room, but not before hearing her name called from below. She went back to the edge of the balcony to see Davy James O’Malley. He was Harold’s oldest son. She smiled and waved down to him. He returned it happily. He had brown hair, which was not completely uncommon. He was sometimes encouraged to dye it, but, always said he was proud of the way he looked no matter what anyone else said about it. His eyes, again, brown, deep and dark like bark. He was big, even for a full grown man; he was built like a house.
She leaned on the stone balcony. You could only see her from the waist up from the ground, because there was no rail, just a stone wall about two feet high. She had her arms folded across her waist, looking down at him. He greeted her, asking her to join him to the Oath-Ceremony tonight. She thought about accepting, but countered with the fact that there would not be a clear head in the house. When greeted with this form of rejection, he grinned his wide pearly white smile, and asked again, promising to be her protector.
This offer was a little more tempting. Davy was a good man, a ferocious warrior, and some of the local girls claim he is a fierce lover as well. She knew they were right whether with experience with him or not. Yet, in the end, he didn’t strike her as the type of man she would be marrying, so, she declined to avoid leading him on. Once again, he tried a different tactic. Seeing he wouldn’t give up, she finally accepted, threatening to point her finger at him when her father asked about it, which he was sure to. He seemed incredibly thrilled by this, even with the threat of her vicious father aiming his sword at him later should harm befall her. He bowed, bid her a good-morning, promising to see her at breakfast, and then strode off with his chest puffed out and his head held high.
She had to smile and shake her head as she went into her room, changing into her normal white blouse, a maroon vest, a long light-tan skirt and her boots. She pulled her long shadowy red hair back into a low ponytail after brushing it out a hundred times. She looked in the mirror to see how it looked. Her eyes were a deep emerald-like green, with a sparkle to them like grass as the sun shines on the dew. She was tall, but not too tall and slim. She had a long slender neck, wide hips, good for bearing sons, she was told, and a tiny waist. She was not incredibly large, chest wise, but enough that men would often stare. She disliked her rump. It wasn’t unseemly, but more than once had she been told “It just so round and taut, I couldn’t help meself.” It was a rather large annoyance in her daily life. Her hands were small with long fingers. Helen was good about keeping her nails clean, too. Her skin was fair, not a mark on her, and very beautiful. She was aware that she was pretty, but doubted that she was beautiful by any sense of the word. After getting changed into her clothes for the day, she then went to the basin by her bed and washed her face, being sure not to get her blouse wet. She dried her face and went downstairs; pulling on the bracelet Davy got her for her birthday last year, and the necklace her brother got her for the same birthday. It always seemed to mean so much to Davy for her to wear it. She knew he liked her, and that was something she was alright with, seeing as he was indeed a good man. She just hoped he’d realize that she didn’t refuse so strongly his offer because of a fear of drunks, but of the fear of breaking his heart.
She walked down a corridor, having gone back and getting a candle. There were no windows in the inner part of the castle, making it very dark until the daylight lit up the castle by shining through open doors and such. She walked with the candle in hand, using a small silver plate, like one someone might use for their tea cup, only with a small handle, to keep from being burned by hot wax. She found her way into the lower levels, seeing the sunlight fill up the entire bottom floor from all the windows. She smiled and blew out her candle, letting a servant take it from her. She then went to the dining room to find Harold, Davy, her brother Sean, her friend Sara, Davy’s sister, and her parents sitting and eating. She was apparently late. She smiled a bit and sat down across from Sara, next to Davy. Sara had a grin on her face as she looked up from her plate, one that suggested that she had sat beside Davy for personal reasons. Of course, Helena shook her head no. She smiled and thanked the serving-girl who brought her meal to her, and dug in after saying a quiet grace.
No one in the Castle of O’Malley dared eat without saying grace first. The strict Christian man would not have food eaten without thanking the Lord. It was rather silly, how upset he would get. She never forgot, herself, though. It would not bode well for her at all if she did. As a girl growing up, she was taught always, always, thank the Lord for what you are given. She of course, being a child, did as she was told without a question or second thought but sometimes, it was annoying to have to say grace, especially when you were half-starved. She did it anyway, not wanting to be whipped, but the annoyance was always there.
“Helen,” Davy whispered to her gently, “would ye care to go ridin’ todey? Sean, Sara and I were goin’ to go, if’n ye’d like to come, ya can.” She turned her head, pulling it back a bit so her face was not so close to his, but not enough to give the impression she was offended by his closeness, she smiled at him.
She put a hand gently on his shoulder and whispered back, “As long as yer flask stays home, I’ll be comin’.” He smiled, obviously pleased, and leaned back, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder indicating for her to lean forward, so he could say something to Sean, who, sat on her opposite side. She only grinned and obliged as he said in Gaelic, forgetting that she was fluent in Gaelic just like everyone else here, “She said she’ll go!” She giggled and said, “It’s no as if canna understand ye, Davy.”
He grinned sheepishly and took his hand off her shoulder as he went back to eating. Sara giggled along with her as she attempted feebly to eat her breakfast, but, like Helen, they both nearly fell out of their seats. Davy didn’t see why it was so funny, but the fact that he had to report it to his best friend immediately made it so childish that it was rather hysterical. Harold and her parents, Sean Sr. and Mary, all looked rather confused but said nothing. They gave small nervous smiles and kept eating.
After breakfast, Sara and Helen, chatting quietly, headed out to the stables. “He likes ya, Helen. Ye know this, doncha?” Helen only blushed a bit and nodded, dismissing it by starting on a topic about herbs. Helena and Sara were both healers, Helen was admittedly more experienced that Sara, who, only took interest in it around age ten whereas Helen had been learning from only a year out of her toddler years, but they were both good at it. The subject stuck until Davy could be seen walking on the edge of a beam meant to tie the horses’ reins up on while you brushed them, so you could do it in the sun instead of in the vile-smelling barn. He wore trousers, in favor of his kilt, since winters chill had not completely left. His shirt was white- that was until he found his show-offy stepping to be off place by half an inch, sending him to the ground. Sara laughed but Helen raced forward. Had it been Sean Jr. named after their father, Sara would have raced forward while Helen laughed. Helen went over and crouched beside him, saying gently to him as she put a hand on his cheek, making him face her so he couldn’t shrug it off, “Are you alright?”
He smiled at her and nodded, “Helen, ye should know by now. There’s not a Scot that canna take a fall.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she helped him to stand, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. At least, that was the plan, but Sara pushed her down on top of him. She blushed furiously as she stared down at Davy, who, only grinned a bit and helped her up, saying gently, “Are you gonna take that? From ‘er?”
She shook her head smiling as she took off after Sara, only to be caught on the right arm, in the gut, by Sean Jr., who drew her in, and then Sara caught by his left, so he was hugging them both against him. Their backs were against his chest as the giggled and squirmed. Davy dusted himself off as he smiled at the sight, saying to Sean, “Sean, me boy, ye’ve got yerself two right fine lasses there. Mind if I take one off yer hands?” He said grabbing Helen’s hand and pulling her toward him. She blushed again as she bumped against him, Davy having a firm but gentle grip on both wrists. He used this grip to pull her closer to him, smiling softly down at her. He released one wrist only to wrap it around her waist, pulling her fully against him. Now, should Sean Sr. see this little sight, Davy might be in a bit of trouble. Should Harold see it, praises would go all around. Sara and Sean were married whereas Davy and Helen weren’t even promised to each other. Flirting like this could lead to some problems if it got out of hand.
She blushed a bit more as he traced her jaw line, having to smile a bit. She did like Davy, really she did, but not in any romantic kind of way. She was relieved when Sean said, “Alright, now, Davy, get yer hands off me sister so we can be off and back in time for the Oath takin’, alright?” He nodded and released her. She went into the stables and went to her copper colored horse and put a blanket on its back, so it would not be discomforted by the saddle. She then put on the saddle carefully strapping it onto the horse. She yelped as her horse let out a loud whinny, surprising her and sending her backwards. She sighed with relief as two strong arms caught her and lifted her upright. She turned as she stood to see who had saved her from the nasty fall.
She looked up to at Davy who stood there with a soft grin on his face. His hand moved to her neck, his thumb stroking her earlobe gently, “Careful there, lass. Don’t want ye to be gettin’ hurt now, do we?” Helen shook her head a bit and went back to saddling up her horse. She was brushing the mane, seeing as Sara and Sean managed to slip out silently for a little wife-to-husband fun. Davy was in the stall next to her, also readying his horse for when the love birds returned. After a time, he started singing an old Celtic song. It was a love song, and with his deep voice, he would do well as a bard. The song told of a man who loved a girl much better off than he and it told of his many attempts to win her. Finally, she told him to his face that she was not meant for him, but to look over his shoulder. Surely enough, a woman more beautiful than any star, more stunning than any dawn and smarter than the wisest woman, even so young, was standing there, wishing he’d look at her the way he had once looked at the richer lass. They were wed, having fallen madly in love and all was well.
This song made Helena feel a pang in her chest. That song related greatly the situation between herself and Davy. In this case, Helen was the woman the man currently had his focus on, when there was another meant for him. She sighed. She needed to settle this now, before he got hurt. “Davy…” She started softly. He looked up from his horse. “Davy, there’s really something I should tell ye. Yer not gonna like it…”
“What is it, Helena?” He said coming around from his horse and cupping her face in his hands, looking at her with a concerned look in his eyes and a tiny supportive grin. God, why was she turning this man down? He was everything she could want or need. Yet, her heart said no.
She sighed. She had to do this now before she got another stupid notion in her head that it could ever work. “Davy, Sara tells me ye…er…are fond of me, and, I am of you as well,” He lightened at this, “but not in the same way as ya might be of me.” He seemed to get the point from there. “Davy, you are a good man, ya are. Yer just not the man for me…I don’t mean to hurt you, Davy, I don’t. I canna tell my heart to fall for you, though there were times where it didn’t seem like I had a choice.” She grinned and noticed he did too. “Who knows? Maybe someday something will happen, but right now, I don’t think anything will. It’s like the song, maybe there’s someone else, right around the bend, just waiting for you to look at them. Please don’t be hatin’ me? I’d like it very much to remain good friends with ye, Davy.”
He nodded slowly, “I understand, lass. I canna hate ya, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. Pa’s been tellin’ me that it was a far-fetched chance I’d win yer heart. Can I just get one thing out of my mind before I swear never to advance on ye again?”
She nodded and he cupped her face in his hands gently, one hand sliding back up into her hair, around the nape of her neck, and he softly fitted his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately. She had a gentle hand on his arm as he did, obliging and returning the kiss. When he pulled away, he smiled at her and said softly, “Now, I swear never to be makin’ such a bold movement on you again, however, I also swear to kill the next man who goes tryin’.”
“Davy!” She protested with a giggle as she pulled away to continue brushing her horse. “You’ll do no such thing!” She was still giggling, knowing very well that he would.
He glanced at her with a broad smile, saying kindly but firm, “Lass, ye know I will if’n I have to. Besides, even if I canna love you like I might like to, I still love you like Sean does, like a sister, that is, and I’ll be damned if I’m to let some unworthy man sweep in and take ye when I could not.” She smiled, shaking her head gently as she continued to brush the horse.
It was roughly another twenty minutes before Sara and Sean returned. They both seem rather flustered and red-faced, in a good way. Sara giggled as Sean’s hand supposedly on accident, slipped up her skirts. She swatted his hand away whispering something about not wanting to do such things in front of her brother. Helena mounted her horse and found that she was the first one out of the stables. Sara rode up next to her as they went out into the forest. She instantly said in a whisper as the boys rode back behind, “Well, what happened while me and Sean were…er…talking?”
Helen rolled her eyes. “Firstly, I’m not a fool. You two did more than talkin’.” She said with a wry grin at Sara, making her blush. She then said softly, “Nothing of interest happened, Sara, and no matter how much you ask, I’ll not tell you anyway.” Sara looked put out, so she hung back to talk to the men.
Helen heard a cry, one obviously her laughing companions did not, and kicked her horse into a gallop, riding at full speed toward the sound. She stopped in the middle of the path as she heard it again, to the right. She urged her horse that way, ignoring Davy as he cried, “Helen! Get back here!” She pressed on, seeing a young man injured in the middle of a meadow; she leaped off her horse and ran at him, hitting her knees as she checked him for injuries.
“Sara! Come, quickly! He’s hurt!” She touched the man’s cheek gently, making him face her. He stared up at her, dazed. He tried to speak, but only passed out. He had a gash in his arm and leg, his right shoulder broken. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Davy and Sean ran over, wanting to kill him. It took her a moment to over look the injured man to see an injured Redcoat. She then argued, “Please, Davy, you would not leave a man to die so cruelly?” He grunted indignantly. She looked back at the injured man and said gently, “Davy, he might be able to help.”
“How is a damned pampered pup like ‘im goin’ to be helpin’ me?” She stood as Sara looked him over for herself and went to Davy, looking him in the eye as she pointed to his insignia. He was a Captain, meaning he must know something.
Davy and Sean walked a far bit away and discussed it, glancing back over at them as the girls did what they could for the man. When they came back over, they agreed to take him back. She touched the man’s cheek again. If he wasn’t so dirty, she might be able to tell what he looked like. She sighed softly and let Davy and Sean lift him onto the back of her horse, seeing as this was her idea. She whispered to herself as the others went on ahead, the man in front of her in the saddle, “I may only have saved you because of your rank, but at least you’ll live another day, Redcoat.” She kicked the horse into a gallop and they headed back to the castle.
