The Seduction of Miss Amelia Bell (20 page)

T
he warm sun felt so good on Amelia’s skin, though she was still slightly mortified
by how much of her skin was exposed.

Edmund had taken her to a lovely loch just north of Ravenglade, surrounded on three
sides by majestic willow and oak and leading out into smaller rivulets. Nestled within
a glen of thick woodland, it offered the seclusion they desired to swim and make love
in the cool water.

They had promised themselves only one night, but one night wasn’t enough. Amelia wasn’t
sure if a lifetime would be enough. She knew they were foolish by continuing to be
together, but she didn’t care. Tomorrow would bring its own tears. She didn’t want
to dwell on the inevitable. What good would it do her to deny them these last times
together?

She had never swum nude out in the open. At first, she thought they were mad for undressing
outdoors. She’d already gone mad to continue this obsession with him. But when he
stripped naked under the sun, she nearly fainted at the sight of him, all tall and
golden against a backdrop of nature. When he beckoned her to follow him into the icy
water, she followed, as naked as he.

She barely knew how to swim. Living in Edinburgh and being the duke’s niece didn’t
afford her much opportunity to swim in a loch or anywhere else. Edmund held her while
she floated on her back, gliding across the surface. He steadied her when she floundered
at the absence of his hands and then dipped his mouth to her glistening nipples.

When he carried her out into deeper waters, she almost panicked, but he drew her body
to his and held her aloft. She clung to him, not because she was afraid of the depths,
but because she never wanted to let him go. How would she ever? She would rather die
than live an empty life without him. It frightened her because she didn’t expect to
feel this way. She thought she could be strong and leave him when the time came. But
the reality of it seeped deeper into her veins every moment that she spent with him.
She was in love with him. Maddeningly and passionately in love with him.

She met the ardor of his kiss with equal measure. She wrapped her legs around his
waist and beckoned him with her hips to guide his stiff sword into her. She cried
out when he impaled her. She felt weightless in his arms and after a moment her body
relaxed around him. Pressing her hands to his wet, hard chest, she pushed herself
up and back, moving upon him while he cradled her rump in one arm and dragged her
to him so that he could kiss her mouth, her throat, her breasts. He drove her mad
and made her doubt that anything existed in the world, save him. She wished nothing
did.

Later, they rested on the shore, in each other’s arms, while their clothes dried on
the rocks. They shared childhood memories while Grendel and Gaza chased red squirrels
and explored the surrounding area.

“I was in my thirteenth year when I and my cousins first saw battle. The Menzies had
come to Camlochlin to reclaim some cattle they accused us of stealing.”

“Did ye?” Amelia asked against his bare chest.

“Nae, though we had stolen cattle before. That time ’twasn’t the MacGregors. My uncle
Rob rode across the vast vale and tried to talk with them rationally, but from what
I understood the Menzies and MacGregors have long been enemies, ever since the days
when my grandsire made war with the Campbells.”

“Highlanders remember wrongs done to them fer a long time, do they not?” It wasn’t
a question. Amelia and every Lowlander knew it to be true.

“Aye. But I aim to help change that. Our centuries-long divisions have made us weak
against England. Feuds need to end.

“Anyway, some thought Rob should have used the cannons the instant the Menzies set
foot on our land, but our chief is fair and not blood-thirsty, so he tried to speak
with them first. But one man among the Menzies didn’t want to talk and hurled his
dagger into the small crowd that had gathered around our warriors. It struck young
Hamish MacKinnon and killed him. That was when hell opened its fiery jaws and swallowed
Camlochlin up for a wee bit.”

“What happened?”

“They fought. My uncles, my kin, they took down men before my eyes, with sword and
ax. They were brutal and merciless, as if every wrong ever done to them came afresh
to the surface and gave them might to slay whatever they faced. I watched and also
picked up my sword, as did my cousins Adam, Malcolm, and Luke.” He smiled as if the
memory were one that pleased him. “And wee Darach. ’Twas when we knew he was fearless,
mayhap too fearless fer his own good. He was nine, I think, and he leaped into the
melee with a battle cry that nearly made his poor mother fall over dead.”

“Goodness, it must have been difficult fer her to realize that her boy had fighting
in his blood so young.”

“’Twas. And harder still fer my aunts Isobel and Mairi when their daughters, only
a pair of years older than Darach, tried to fight as well. Although I think Mairi
expected it of Caitrina, just not so soon.”

“I never saw a dead man until I came here,” Amelia told him, remembering her past
with him. “I wasn’t allowed inside my grandsire’s chamber when he died of a sickness
to his lungs.”

“I feel responsible fer spoiling yer innocence.”

She leaned up on one elbow and looked down at him. “Spoiling the innocence of my eyes
or my body?”

He blinked, then grinned, looking unsure as to which answer he should give. “Yer eyes,”
he finally admitted. “I’m not done with yer body.”

She shook her head at him playfully, then scooted out of his reach when he tried to
keep her with him.

“Where are ye going?” he asked, watching her hooded, sleepy eyes while she slipped
her chemise over her head.

“I saw lovely plump berries just over there.” She pointed to a stand of willows when
he looked. “I want to pick some fer us to eat.”

“I’m perfectly content to dine on the plump berries before me.”

“Och, fer goodness sakes, ye’re beginning to sound like Malcolm. Close yer eyes and
rest. I’ll bring the dogs with me.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. “Make haste, Amelia.”

“I will,” she promised and hurried off, barefoot.

Grendel followed her the instant she stepped into the woods. Gaza took off first toward
Edmund and then back to Amelia when she realized her new and beloved master wasn’t
coming.

Amelia patted the dog’s head. “I know, Gaza. I love him, too.”

She walked farther along until she spotted what she was after. Fat, red currant berries
grew in clusters, tempting her forward. She should have brought a basket with her
from the castle. Henrietta could make some delicious pastries with the sweet berry.

“I don’t like being pulled from my bed to go chasing after a lady. I don’t care who
she is.”

Amelia stopped, quieting Gaza’s low whine and keeping Grendel from rushing out of
the trees.

“Well, you best care, Humphrey,” said another, deeper voice. “She’s the duke’s niece,
and soon-to-be wife of the lord chancellor.”

Amelia didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. She was afraid that she might never move again.

“If Captain Pierce hears you speaking of your duty like that—”

Captain Pierce was here! Amelia looked longingly back the way she’d come, toward Edmund.
She had to tell him, tell the others. If Pierce was here, then so was her uncle, possibly
Walter—definitely an army. She wanted to move. But what if she cracked a twig or rustled
the leaves? There were three men in Ravenglade, not including Chester, the old steward.
She didn’t care how skilled Edmund and his cousins were. They would lose against an
army.

She prayed for the dogs to stay quiet. She didn’t know that Grendel was trained to
do just what she needed. Thankfully, Gaza followed his lead.

“Do you think the gossip is right, though?” asked the first man, a soldier most likely.
“Do you believe she ran away with outlaws so that she could get away from the lord
chancellor?”

“It’s not our concern, Humphrey. Are you done taking your piss?”

“I believe it. She must know what a merciless bastard he is. Think you he has struck
her yet?”

“Damn you, Humphrey, you’re going to get us both killed.”

Humphrey was quiet for a moment. Amelia prayed that he was done so he and his friend
would leave. Then, “Remember that wench he nailed last winter on his visit to Edinburgh?
The one he asked us to take from the local tavern? Perhaps Miss Bell knows how she
was found dead the next morning.”

Amelia didn’t know. She clutched her belly and fought to keep herself upright. Walter
killed a woman? It couldn’t be true. That wasn’t what they were saying.

“I asked around a little after the gruesome discovery and I learned that Lord Seafield
enjoys some very perverse sexual desires.”

“That doesn’t make him a murderer, Humphrey.”

Amelia thought she must be dreaming. How could she marry a perverse man after she’d
been with Edmund? What if Walter murdered that woman? Did her father know? He couldn’t
know.

“And where in blazes is the duke? Why send us to Perth and then take his damn time
getting here himself?”

“He’ll be here in a day or two, Humphrey. Then we can get this business over with
and return home. Now hurry up!”

Amelia waited for them to leave the clearing, and after making certain they were gone,
she raced back to Edmund.

E
dmund sat in the solar with the others discussing what Amelia had overheard that morning
at the loch. The duke had found them, and he was bringing his men, possibly his army.

“How did he find us?” Malcolm asked.

Edmund shook his head. “I don’t know. Mayhap someone recognized us in Edinburgh. Most
know that Ravenglade belongs to the Grants.”

“Why aren’t they here?” Luke tapped his boot on the floor. “What are they waiting
fer?”

“Most likely fer the duke to arrive,” Amelia told them. “The two soldiers I overheard
discussed the duke’s arrival in a few days.”

“My guess is they won’t attack until he arrives,” Edmund said.

However the duke found them no longer mattered. They were found. An army was coming.
Edmund and his cousins were going to need help. “We’re going to need the Buchanans
in this.”

Malcolm threw back his head and laughed. “Ye’re mad, cousin. I’d rather die in battle.”

“Ye may get yer wish then,” Edmund told him. “How do ye suppose we fight armed soldiers?
We might manage to kill a dozen or so, but we are three, Cal. We don’t stand a chance.”

Malcolm closed his eyes and tightened his jaw. “What d’ye propose we do?”

“I think William is looking fer a way out of this mess with Darach.”

“I agree,” Luke said.

“We need to ride to the Buchanan holding today, while we still have time to leave
the castle, and speak to William about his kin’s duty to Scotland.”

Malcolm shook his head. “William’s new at being chief. He’s young and doesn’t yet
command the respect from his kin that he’s due.”

Edmund disagreed. “After last night and the beating he took to save them, I think
things will change. We will offer them something in exchange fer Darach and their
aid with the duke.”

“What do we give them?”

“Their dog,” Malcolm suggested.

Edmund glanced at him with enough warning in his eyes to quiet him. “We’ll offer them
terms.”

“Like what?” Malcolm asked, already sounding like he hated the idea.

“They want Ravenglade. We will offer them paid positions here. The place is empty
fer months at a time. Ye keep yer steward, Chester, here and ye’ve offered Henrietta
her own quarters if she agreed to stay. Why not take on more? Ye have the room.”

Malcolm laughed and tossed his booted foot over the arm of his chair. “Ye think the
Buchanans would stay as servants?”

“Nae. They wouldn’t be servants. Ye’d be paying them in coin or in protection, whatever
ye want to offer. They’d be living here. That’s what they’ve always wanted. Ye need
a gardener and ye could use a blacksmith and a bottler. How about a marshal?”

“A marshal fer what horses, Edmund?” Malcolm shook his head at him. “I have no carts
or wagons. But while we’re at it, why do I no’ hire a few Buchanan minstrels to sing
fer me? Och, I can also use a tanner and a soap maker and a porter.”

“And a scullion,” Sarah added. “Just this morn I heard Henrietta complainin’ about
cleaning the kitchen.”

Malcolm stared at her for a moment, and then smiled indulgently. “I’m no’ givin’ any
of this m’ true consideration, lass.”

Sarah smiled back. “I know ye’re not, Malcolm. Ye only consider yerself.”

Lucan’s chuckle pulled Malcolm’s hard gaze in his direction. “’Tis no’ true.”

“’Tis,” Luke insisted.

Malcolm turned to Edmund and then rose from his seat when Edmund nodded his head in
agreement. “What would ye all have me do, then?” He threw up his hands. “Invite the
Buchanans into Ravenglade with open arms? Allow them to stay here in m’ absence and
then trust them to hand it back over when I return?”

“Why not?” Luke said. “Someone’s got to make the first move toward ending this foolish
feud.”

“Writings will be drawn and signed,” Edmund told Malcolm. “I’ll begin penning everything
now. We’ll send Chester an hour or two before we arrive to let them know we come with
a peace offering. Ravenglade is yers, Malcolm, and always will be. If they try to
take it again, they will lose their positions here and possibly their lives.”

“Why the hell would I agree to any of this, Edmund?”

“Because, Cal, it gains us what we need and we get Darach back safely.”

“Who says I want the hellion back?”

Edmund smiled at his cousin, knowing him better.

Malcolm tossed back his head and exhaled a gusty sigh. “All right then. Let’s go do
it.”

Janet Buchanan stood in the shadows of the barn while her brother spoke to Darach
about the afternoon’s events. They’d received a visitor about an hour ago in the form
of Chester, Malcolm Grant’s steward. Chester was slightly built and of medium height,
and no threat to her kin whatsoever. To Janet’s estimation, he looked to be about
the same age as her and William’s father would have been.

The steward had been sent on ahead to prepare the Buchanans for the arrival of Malcolm
Grant and his escorts, the MacGregors.

Her kin all listened quietly when he unfolded a parchment and began to read out loud.

“Malcolm offers us a place at Ravenglade,” William filled Darach in. “We could make
our home there and—”

“As servants,” Janet muttered.

“As thieves who will pilfer everything they can get their hands on,” Darach muttered
back.

Janet glowered at him and opened her mouth to set him straight. William’s voice stopped
her.

“Grant and the MacGregors want to end the fighting and work toward peace. Some of
us here want that, too. Either way, Darach, yer kin are coming shortly to discuss
everything.”

“Are they comin’ withoot opposition?” their prisoner asked. “Or do they only think
they are?”

“There’s nae trap being set here,” William assured him. “My father always knew that
killing Malcolm or his father before him and taking Ravenglade by force would bring
the entire Skye clan down upon our heads. I stand in his place now, and he didn’t
raise a fool.”

Darach smiled at him and Janet’s spine went soft. How was it possible that the bastard
grew more alluring and virile every time she saw him?

His gaze found hers beneath the soft amber glow of a lantern hanging from the low
rafters. She’d looked into the eyes of dangerous men before, but no one as perilous
as Darach Grant. With his face less swollen and discolored, she had to admit he was
the finest looking man she’d ever seen.

Janet knew she was mad and she would never admit to this aloud, but she didn’t want
his kin to come for him.

“What guarantee do I have that she was raised with ye, Will?”

Janet’s fingers curled into fists and she remembered why she hated him. “I’m nae fool,
Grant,” she said tersely. “I think I’ve proven that to ye by not tripping over my
feet every time ye look my way.”

His emerald gaze glimmered as it came to rest on her again. “Ye have, indeed,” he
admitted softly.

Her belly flipped and she turned to her brother, only to find Will watching her. She
backed into the shadows once again.

“When they arrive,” William continued on, “I’ll speak to them and then bring ye to
them.”

Darach nodded. “Tell yer kin,” he called out to William when he turned to leave the
barn, “if anyone draws a weapon, I’ll use yers to kill them.”

William laughed but then let it fade with a nod, as if he suddenly believed Darach
could do what he said.

“I will not miss yer brazen overconfidence, Grant,” Janet told him when they were
alone. She should have left right behind her brother.

“What will ye miss then?”

She shouldn’t have looked at him. She heard the grin in his voice. She hadn’t needed
to see it.

Yer slightly sinister smile and the glint of something feral in yer gaze.

“The hope and expectation I experience every morn when I enter the barn that a horse
somehow killed ye during the night.”

He crooked his mouth. Mad as it was, he was going to miss this fire-tempered wench
and her springy blond curls. “Ye have an acid tongue, Janet Buchanan.” He went to
her, but came to a harsh, abrupt halt, stopped by the restraints on his ankles. “I
find it most appealin’ and would like to—”

Shouts from outside halted whatever else he meant to say. Janet thought it best, but
was a bit disappointed, though she would never admit to such a thing. His kin were
here. He was leaving. The next time she saw him he would likely be married…or, more
likely, dead. It didn’t matter to her. As long as he was out of her hair.

“Farewell, Darach.” She stepped back just as the barn doors opened again and Will
returned.

Janet didn’t look back as she left. She wouldn’t think of him ever again. Nothing
had changed.

She kept repeating it over and over again in her mind as she exited the barn and disappeared
into the crowd of those who had come to see their enemies up close.