The Seduction of Miss Amelia Bell (10 page)

“I will try fer yer sake not to let it come to that.”

“Ye have my thanks fer that.” Her voice was quiet and she rose to her feet. “Good
night, Mr. MacGregor.”

“Good night, Miss Bell,” he answered, watching her walk away.

H
e’s a strange one,” Sarah whispered beneath the thick woolen plaid she’d been given
to keep her warm for the night.

“Mr. Grant?” Amelia whispered back. She guessed if she were giving her full attention
to Sarah, she would have known whom her friend was talking about. But her full attention
was occupied somewhere else.

“Nae, Lucan MacGregor.” As if speaking his name held some intangible power over her,
Sarah pushed the edge of her blanket down around her neck and swept her gaze down
her nose and over the clearing, seeking the one of whom she spoke.

Amelia allowed herself to do the same, since Sarah was already looking and all. The
truth was she hadn’t been able to get Edmund out of her thoughts since she left him
over an hour ago. She was still angry as hell with him for deceiving her, kidnapping
her, and setting her life to ruin, and she hated herself for finding such interest
in his life, but she couldn’t forget how utterly thrilling it felt being held in his
arms that night while they danced. Or how deliciously scandalous it felt kissing him.

Getting a slanted, slightly distorted glance at him sitting around the fire with the
other men wasn’t going to help her unwelcome obsession with him, but she wanted another
look at him just the same.

He laughed quietly—thoughtfully, she realized, when he turned his head to look at
where she lay with Sarah. She yanked the blanket back over her face and held her breath.

“He knows we were not asleep, Amelia.”

“It doesn’t matter. If they see us watching them they will think we fancy them.”

“What’s so terrible about that? Ye fancy Edmund,” Sarah accused.

Amelia’s mouth fell open. “How can ye think that? Sarah, he kidnapped us!” she protested
in a hushed tone. “Do ye realize what my mother will say? Or if the Highlanders have
their way, how I will disgrace my father? Not to mention they may still kill us and
leave us by the side of the road! How can ye think I could fancy him?”

“Don’t be a fool, Amelia. They aren’t going to kill us.”

“They’re Highlanders, Sarah! Who knows what they will do? Well, Edmund is not truly
a Highlander. But the others are.”

Sarah pulled the blanket down past her eyes and examined the clearing again. “Och,
my love, but Edmund is a Highlander, and nothing less.”

Try as she might not to, Amelia had to peek.

He sat at a certain angle that positioned him directly under a thread of pale silver
moonlight. It gave him the appearance of being carved from marble. In contrast, the
golden firelight softly defined the cut of his classically masculine profile and illuminated
the burnished waves about his forehead like a halo.

She turned to her friend. Did Sarah see it, too? He was simply breathtaking. She had
to quit looking or his memory when she left him, if she lived, that is, would haunt
her. She buried herself back under her blanket, but he was still with her. She thought
about the story he’d told her of his upbringing. The MacGregors had given him much;
freedom, vast heather-lined meadows of it. He’d smiled when he spoke of his very first
friendship with a puppy called Aurelius that taught him loyalty and steadfastness.
She envied his adventures with Malcolm and Lucan—though Lucan’s family had remained
at their ancestral Campbell Keep in Glen Orchy for a number of years after William
took the throne. He’d grown to manhood with the sons and grandsons of great warriors.
Scotland and the MacGregors had given him much indeed. It was no surprise that he
was so passionate about saving them from England.

He still looked like
David
, sublime, unconquerable, unafraid of giants…or monsters.

Walter and her uncle had an army behind them, but then, so had Goliath. What would
happen when they came together? Who would die? Of course, she didn’t want her uncle
or Walter to perish. She didn’t love Walter. But she didn’t want Edmund to kill him.
There had to be a way to save them but she couldn’t think of anything now. Not with
Edmund in her head…and a cold, wet nose in her back.

“I am not afraid of ye, Grendel,” she whispered, pushing him away. “Give me some room,”
she demanded when he didn’t budge.

Honestly, what kind of beast was Grendel? Edmund had told her that he was the son
of Aurelius, but surely no mother, not even a Highland one, would allow her child
to play with the creature that spawned this beast.

“What is strange about him?” she asked Sarah to get her mind off an uninvited Highlander
and his devil-hound.

“Who?”

“Lucan MacGregor,” Amelia reminded her. “Ye said he was a strange one. I find him
very appealing.”

“More appealin’ than yer Edmund?”

“No one is more appealing than he.” She didn’t know why she admitted it; most likely
because it was to Sarah, and Sarah knew everything about her. Perhaps, if she confessed
to thinking him desirable, he would cease plaguing her. Besides, in the darkness beneath
the blanket, her friend couldn’t see the fire blazing Amelia’s cheeks and bubbling
up in her belly. “Of course, it doesn’t matter what else I think of him, which is
very little, I assure ye. I am promised to another and he is—”

“More virile than the chancellor is on his best day.”

Amelia would have argued with her, but what was the point when Sarah was correct?

“He kissed me.” She held her breath as Sarah gasped. They clasped hands, careful of
Amelia’s sore fingers. She wanted to tell Sarah everything.

“Och Amelia, when? Why did ye not tell me? How was it?”

Amelia closed her eyes, remembering, smiling. She would be logical in the morning.
Tonight, she didn’t want to think about consequences; a fault her mother would tell
her was nothing unusual…or acceptable.

“’Twas divine. Never have I been kissed so.” She sighed and then pulled the blanket
down to have another look at him.

She didn’t have to look far. Edmund stood over her, smiling like he’d heard everything.
Amelia quickly realized that he had. Unlike Sarah, he had a perfect view of her flushed
face.

“What…” She swallowed, mortified at what she had said, and took a moment to begin
again. “What are ye doing standing over us? What if we were sleeping? Ye would have
frightened poor Sarah to death if she—” Her face twisted with pain when Sarah poked
her hard in the side.

“Ye know I don’t frighten that easily, Amelia.”

Amelia glared at her while Sarah turned her most radiant smile on Edmund.

“Don’t mind her, m’ lord,” Sarah cooed. “We weren’t sleepin’.”

“I know,” Edmund confessed with a grin that would likely cause Amelia a se’nnight
of tossing and turning in her bed. “I wanted to make certain ye were both comfortable
before the rest of us go to sleep.”

“I would love it if ye would remove yer
dog
from my back. I don’t mind sharing my patch of ground with him but he’s gangly. As
we speak one of his paws is pressed into my spine.”

Amelia was impressed at how quickly Grendel sprang up at Edmund’s softly spoken command
that the beast go someplace else. She also felt terrible watching the mongrel slip
away into the shadows beyond the fire. He turned to look at her just before he blended
in with the darkness. She thought she heard a low whimper.

“Luke is taking first watch if ye need anything.”

Amelia returned her gaze to Edmund and wondered if he thought her overly pampered
and spoiled. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sleep with a dog, it was because…

Edmund bid them good night and turned to walk away.

Amelia sat up, wanting to stop him from leaving just yet. Why? Did she care that much
what he thought of her? She barely knew him and what she did know wasn’t all that
favorable. He was an outlaw from an outlawed clan. He’d kidnapped her from her home
and if that wasn’t bad enough, he did so directly after he kissed her. He’d threatened
harm to her uncle’s life and to the life of the lord chancellor. What then did it
matter what he thought of her? But it did matter. Perhaps because somewhere deep down
she didn’t believe that he was cruel or callous, the way MacGregors were rumored to
be. No merciless barbarian could take such pity on her while he mended her fingers.

“Mr. MacGregor?” She stopped him before she could give herself a good reason why.

He turned and managed to scatter her thoughts with a mere slant of his lips. “Edmund,”
he corrected.

She sighed and nodded, thankful for the extra moment to come up with a valid question
for why she’d stopped him from leaving. “How did ye come by the name Grendel? I’ve
never heard of it before.”

“’Tis a name taken from an epic Anglo Saxon poem.”

“About a hero of that name?” She almost smiled, guessing she was correct. Edmund was
a patriot, loyal to Scotland’s cause. Men like him sought heroes to remember.

“Nae, lass. Beowulf was the hero of that tale, Grendel was the fiend he slew.”

“Fiend?” she asked quietly, looking into the shadows where Grendel had disappeared.
Certainly the dog was no fiend. Aye, he was a beast, huge and furry, but…“Why would
ye name him after a monster?”

Amelia’s heart pounded violently when he made his way back to her. He squatted at
her side, close enough for her to smell the scents of moss and burned wood on his
plaid. His eyes, level with hers, appeared dark and fathomless in the dim light, tempting
her to fall into them, to lose herself there, forget her father, Walter, everyone,
save him. When he spoke, his voice caressed her in layers of sultry, spine-tingling
warmth.

“He hates music.”

She blinked out of the spell he’d cast over her. “What?”

“My dog. He hates music. His namesake hated it and became a fiend by killing men who
pained his ears with their music.”

It wasn’t a humorous story, but she found herself wanting to smile nevertheless. “But
he’s a dog! How can he hate music? I don’t believe it.”

Edmund shrugged his shoulders. “Sing to him and find out.”

“Will he tear at my throat then?” she challenged him, not believing the dog would
harm her at all.

“That depends on how poorly ye sing.”

“I sang fer the queen last spring and she voiced no complaints.”

“I heard she has a deaf ear. Be assured that Grendel does not.”

Against her better judgment, Amelia laughed and gave him a playful slap, then squeezed
her eyes shut and brought her sore fingers to her lips. She opened her eyes an instant
later when he took her hand tenderly in his and brought it to his lips.

“I should beat Darach senseless fer letting ye fall off his horse.”

“I…I…” Oh, hell, what was she about to say? She had no idea. His warm mouth on her
fingers thrilled the thoughts right out of her head. Still, she didn’t want him to
be angry with Darach. “I’ve fallen before. It wasn’t his fault.”

“Ye will ride with me from here on out. I’ll not let ye fall.”

She shook her head. That was a terrible idea. She didn’t want to ride with him, feeling
his body so close to hers. She didn’t want to like him or think him kind. He wasn’t.
Everything he did, he did for a purpose. For Scotland. What would become of her and
Sarah at this Ravenglade they spoke of? Would he ever let them go? What if her uncle
signed the treaty? What would happen to her and Sarah then?

“Sleep now.” He pulled the blanket up to her neck as she lay back down. “Ye’ll be
safe.”

“He’s verra charming.”

Amelia closed her eyes at the sound of Sarah’s voice.

“I can see how ye let yerself be fooled by him.”

Amelia nodded. She would have to be more careful in the future. He’d abducted her.
At this very moment her poor father was likely worried sick. That thought gave her
the momentum she needed to continue disliking him.

She looked around the campsite. Everyone was lying down and still, save for Lucan.
A forest creature scurried by her and nearly startled her out of her skin. She’d never
slept out in the open before. Another sound from the shadows set her to prayer. Where
was Grendel? She was sorry she’d had Edmund chase him away.

Perhaps she could get him to return. She whistled softly, drawing Lucan’s attention
and thankfully the dog’s, as well. This time when Grendel lumbered toward her, tail
wagging, she invited him under the cover with her.

She realized an instant later that her invitation might have been a mistake.

He smelled.

But he was big, and warm, and fierce looking. She felt safe lying next to him. She
petted his head. Grendel. Not a fiend at all. She decided to put Edmund’s words to
the test, certain that he’d been teasing her. She’d never heard of a dog hating music.

She began to hum.

Grendel began to howl. And oh, if he had simply howled like a normal dog, it wouldn’t
have been so bad. His cries were agonized, loud, and harrowing. He didn’t stop, even
after everyone in the camp woke up and the sun rose over the hills.

Amelia felt terrible for everyone, even Grendel. She tried not to think about it too
much while they made their way into Perth. Twice though, after Darach yawned, he turned
to cast her a dark, accusing glance. She caught Malcolm offering her a pitying look
and she guessed Sarah had told him about the unfortunate incidents that accompanied
her.

Her mother blamed the incidents on Amelia’s lack of self-control; her father chose
to simply ignore whatever catastrophe she caused and paid for the damage without uttering
a word to her about it. Dear Alice—and goodness but Amelia missed her—always assured
her that her season of misfortune would end. No one but her uncle had ever declared
what Amelia believed the trouble was.

Ill fortune followed her everywhere she went. Calamity plagued her, sometimes making
her feel utterly hopeless, completely discouraged that anything wonderful would ever
happen in her life. Most of the time she fought through her frustration and made the
most out of what was given her, but everyone at home knew the truth. She was bad luck.