Free Bedding the Enemy by Mary Wine Page A

them.”
    James sobered. “Being king does have advantages. Ye’re here at my invitation. They will keep their grumbles low. Stay.” Something crossed James Stuart’s face. “Stay and court the girl. I believe it will be interesting to see what her brother makes of that.”
    Â 
    He should have been satisfied, but he was not. Keir ground his teeth all the way back to his hovel of a residence. He’d done what he set out to do, or at least he’d made a good beginning of it.
    But he was itching to find her.
    Helena.
    He had a name to go with her face, but he was more frustrated than before. He sighed. Laying his kilt aside, he propped his sword next to his bed. The thing was too short and narrow for his frame. At least thinking about Helena gave his mind something to dwell on besides how much he longed for Red Stone and his own bed.
    Court the girl…
    Well now, it appeared that he had something to accomplish before he rode back to Scotland. Helena’s face came to mind. She had courage, all right—maybe too much—because it was soliciting a response from him that was rather out of line, considering she was a maiden. He grinned and pinched out the candle beside his bed. His cock was hard and he could hear the carousing from the inn on the corner: music and women laughing while they sold their favors.
    It did not interest him.
    Instead, frustration kept him awake for several hours. He could not help her and that twisted his gut.
    But tomorrow would be different. He had the king’s permission to court her.
    He would be happy to obey.

Chapter Three
    â€œB itch!”
    Edmund hit her across the face. Her body spun around with the force he used. She tasted blood, but only stumbled, managing to keep her balance. She turned to see her brother’s face contorted with rage.
    â€œTraitor. Stupid bitch.” He aimed another blow at her face, this one popping loudly. Pain spiked through her head, turning her vision blurry for a moment. She sucked in a deep breath to steady herself. The maids standing near the door flinched but they dared not abandon their post. They remained stiffly at attention while the master of the house raged.
    â€œYou’ve ruined me!” He stomped across the floor to a large X-chair and flung himself into it. He pounded the wide arm of it with a fist.
    â€œRuined! Do you hear me, you idiotic bitch? Why didn’t you keep your mouth shut? It was a perfect plan….”
    He hit the chair’s arm again and looked around for the staff. “Wine!” he bellowed at the maids. They tripped over their own feet trying to serve him. But both made sure to duck their chins and keep as far as possible from his hands.
    Helena couldn’t blame them. She stood where she was, rather grateful that Edmund had retired to his chair. It was his favorite spot to rail at her from. There was a familiarity about it that gave her strength. Edmund gulped at his tankard, his eyes peering over the rim at her.
    â€œI’m going to find you a husband.” He hit the arm of the chair with the base of the goblet. Dark red wine sloshed over the rim, staining the white cuff of his fine shirt, but he didn’t even look down to investigate the damage his negligence had done.
    â€œSomeone willing to take half your dowry, because I intend to keep the rest of it. Maybe more.” He snarled at her and drank some more.
    â€œGet out of my sight! More wine! And get someone comely to serve me.”
    The older maid sent the younger one through the doorway with a quick flick of her fingers while Edmund was still glaring at her. The younger girl fled without a sound on the wooden floor, a grim testament to how many times they had heard their master order that very thing from them.
    Helena began to lower herself, simply out of habit, but stopped, the throbbing in her cheek freezing her before she finished lowering her head. She heard her brother growl but turned