A Spinster at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book One

by Barclay, Celeste

  “You and I both know that, but my father refuses to see reason. His feud with the Campbells only grows worse as they push us onto less and less land. He still hopes the king will reel in Laird Campbell if he warns the Bruce of the assassination plot.”

  “That’ll never happen.”

  “I no longer care. I’ll be laird one day, and what will I be laird of? A clan that has starved to death because it has no land left to farm. A clan that has few members since more and more leave each day to join other clans that can provide for them. A clan others mock. If this is my future, then I would at least have the woman I love by my side. And I’d save you the indignity our families have forced you into. I was unable to protect you before, but I can now.”

  “How? You said yourself that you have less by the day.”

  “There’s no one else to inherit but me. Regardless of whether I live among the clan now, I’ll be laird one day. I’ll take you away from here. Take you anywhere you want, and when the time comes, we can return to whatever is left of Gregor land to be laird and lady.”

  Amelia’s laugh lacked any mirth. It crackled through the air.

  “As if your people would accept a whore for their lady. They know what I am, just as I do. I’ve sold myself to the devil. Your people would never accept sin incarnate as the laird’s wife. I can be your leman, but never your wife.”

  “They’ll accept whatever I tell them to.” Roy’s frustration was betrayed through his voice, along with how he ran his hand through his hair.

  “You know that isn’t true. You’re not narcissistic enough to believe that.”

  “You’re not a whore,” Roy whispered.

  “I am. I know it as does everyone else. The only comfort is knowing that none of it has been for my pleasure. Not truly. Every man I’ve bedded other than you has been for a reason.”

  Elizabeth was uncertain if that was a consolation as she contemplated her husband being manipulated.

  “You gave away your youth and your future for what? Three clans willing to take from you and never give back. I’m ashamed on your behalf. The Grants, MacAdams, and Gregors owe you a great debt.”

  “The Grants owe me nothing. The laird never sanctioned my father’s actions. My father sold my hand hoping to be noticed. What did it gain him? Nothing. Laird Grant couldn’t care less, and Laird MacAdams sent my husband to court so he didn’t have to deal with his slithering cousin. He was the snake his cousin accused him of being. He was the first one to make me bed men for his benefit. Your father picked up where he left off.”

  A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Amelia spun toward the door, her face a picture of horror.

  “He’s here,” she hissed. “He can’t catch you here.”

  “How am I supposed to leave?”

  “You can’t. Get in my wardrobe.”

  “Bluidy hell,” Roy snapped. “I’m not watching him fuck you.”

  “Then close the doors.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. Besides, I haven’t bedded him. I get him sotted and unlace his breeks. He wakes believing he’s had me, and I don’t disabuse him of the idea. Now hush and go.”

  The next set of knocks was more like pounding. Amelia glanced in the looking glass and then back to ensure Roy was tucked away. She opened the door and ushered a rotund and balding man into her chamber.

  “My apologies, my lord. I lay down to shut my eyes for but a moment, but I must have drifted off.”

  “Wanted to be well rested for me, did you?” Fergus Baird chuckled.

  “Of course, my lord,” Amelia gushed as she poured a chalice of whisky. She handed it to Fergus, who threw back the contents in one swallow.

  “Remember for the future that I don’t care to be kept waiting in a passageway. Everyone may know that you’re a good ride, but I don’t need anyone seeing me here. The longer you make me wait, the greater the chance someone will recognize me.”

  Amelia drew in a lungful of air and kept her most serene smile in place. She exchanged the empty chalice in Fergus’s hand with a full one. Once again, he guzzled the contents.

  “The Gregors may be a lost cause, but they make fine whisky.”

  “Lost cause, my lord?” Amelia infused as much innocence into her voice as she could.

  “Aye. You must realize your relatives are doomed for extinction if the Campbells have their way.”

  “That’s horrid!” Amelia exclaimed, her hand over her heart. “Won’t the king do anything about it?”

  “He won’t be doing much of anything soon enough.”

  Amelia helped ease the portly man’s doublet off his shoulders. She guided him to a chair before handing him a third chalice of whisky. It was unbelievable to Elizabeth how quickly the man consumed the whisky. She was certain there were several fingers in each chaliceful, but the man drank it like water. Fergus tipped his head back and closed his eyes, the chalice dangling from his fingers, as Amelia kneeled to remove his shoes. With his eyes closed, the man missed her expression of revulsion.

  “Perhaps someone should warn the Earl of Lochaber,” Amelia suggested.

  “That arsehole. He should already be dead. Useless servant told me ‘he must be in the carriage since he goes nowhere without Lady Elizabeth’.” Fergus’s voice took on a whiny sing-song tone as he quoted whoever gave him the wrong information. “Nearly killed the chit and got nothing out of it. He should have died searching for her in that blizzard, but no, he has Saint Michael on his side. Two warriors who think too much of themselves.”

  “God’s general thinks too much of himself?” Amelia once more infused innocence into her voice.

  “Mayhap not, but Lordling Edward does. He didn’t even have the good graces to die in the woods. No, the chit defended herself before he ran off with her to hide.” The man snorted. “Pshaw, some warrior hiding among horses.”

  “I heard it was romantic how he saved Lady Elizabeth.”

  “What man needs romance? What I need is him dead. Even the lackwit I hired at Culcreuch failed to draw him into a fight over the chit. Then he failed to get the Galbraiths to rally against Edward. Useless. Aww of dem less.” Fergus’s last words slurred together, but he shook his head. “Now come here, lass.”

  Amelia brought yet another chalice of whisky to Fergus before she perched on the edge of the man’s stumpy lap. She maintained her smile as Fergus squeezed her breast as he finished the chalice, in two gulps this time.

  “You need someone you can trust, my lord. You shoulder a great burden.” Amelia slipped from his lap and rounded the chair to massage his shoulders, once more hiding her grimace as she looked at the wardrobe. Elizabeth’s gaze shifted to the large piece of furniture, but it was just past her view. From the way Amelia’s eyes widened, Elizabeth assumed Roy had the door open a crack. “Perhaps you might enlist the support of others? Oh, but I’m sure you’ve already done. Your mind is so much quicker than mine.”

  “Aye, my uncle and three cousins. They’re lesser barons, but my uncle has his eye on Cambusnethan.”

  “Where it that, my lord?” Amelia murmured.

  “Larkinshire, you hen wit. How can you not know where the Bairds rule?” Fergus’s disgust was evident, but few were aware of where the small territory was located. The Baird name was well known enough to be recognizable, but they were not large landowners.

  “But who shall rule if King Robert is dead? Edward, Earl of Carrick, is in Ireland making himself king, and Edward, Earl of Lochaber, can’t inherit? Would you have Princess Marjorie wed and her husband put on the throne?”

  “Hardwee,” Fergus’s words slurred once again.

  Ceit nudged Elizabeth, and Elizabeth accepted their time was waning. They just needed this final piece of information.

  “Anower Edward. Bluidy Balliols. Too many Edards.” Fergus hiccupped as his eyes drooped.

  “My lord, you have considered of everything. When do you think you will succeed at outwitting the king?” Amelia tugged on Fergus’s hand and
led him to the bed where he dropped like a rock. He tugged her into his lap once again, licking her neck. Amelia shuddered but pushed him back onto the bed. She tugged at the laces of his leggings as she crooned. A snore rumbled from Fergus before she was even halfway done. When another snore erupted, this one even louder than the first, Roy emerged from the dresser.

  Ceit pulled on Elizabeth’s arm.

  “Just a little longer,” Elizabeth whispered.

  “No. Our husbands will come searching. I don’t want them lost.”

  “Trust me. I can tell we need one more moment.”

  Ceit sighed and put her ear back to the wall. Elizabeth watched as Roy stalked toward Amelia and yanked her against him.

  “I should kill him where the bastard sleeps.” Roy snarled.

  “I wish that you could, but that must be the king’s privilege if this is all to have been worth it. All these years; everything we talked about. Go. Tell your father what you heard. Once your father tells the king, I’ll leave with you. I can’t do this any longer.” Amelia looked back over her shoulder at the slumbering lump on her bed and shuddered. She’d have the maid change the sheets in the morning, and she’d sleep in the chair that night. “My only regret is I wish it were possible tell Lady Elizabeth the truth. The truth that I never wanted Edward, not for more than what I hoped to learn from him. I spoke with her and Lady Deirdre last evening. I like both of them even if they despise me. I understand how Lady Deirdre must have suffered all those years she was apart from her Magnus. At least I’ve been able to see you, touch you. She didn’t even know he still loved her. I wish I could apologize to Lady Ceit while I’m at it. I used the Sinclair brothers as much as I did Edward. The worst of that is I never learned anything from Callum or Tavish despite how I tried and the fact they’re the king’s godsons. Eleanor and I were wretched to Ceit, but it was too dangerous to lower my guard.”

  “What is done is done. You can’t take it back any more than I can.”

  “True as that may be, I’ve hurt a lot of innocent people along the way. For what? This.” Amelia gestured toward Fergus. “Aye, we might save the king’s life, and that’s important, but it’s been a long path to get this one piece of information.”

  “But can there be anything more important than learning of a conspiracy to commit treason? Not just treason but to murder the king.”

  “I suppose not. When will your father approach the king?”

  “He’s camped just beyond the city walls. I’ll make him wait until morning, late enough for Fergus to leave. I won’t let them find him here. No one will speak your name. I’ll kill my father with my own hands if he brings you into this.”

  “There’s nothing of my reputation to save. The king knows I trade in secrets. How could he and the queen not? I’ve lasted here too long not to be doing more than bedding every man with a pulse.”

  Roy once more pulled Amelia into his embrace before cupping her nape to angle her head for his demanding kiss.

  “Pack your essentials and prepare to leave before the noon meal. I’m not chancing you changing your mind.”

  “I don’t know where we’ll go, but tonight was the final nail in the coffin. I can’t do this anymore. It very nearly killed me knowing you watched everything. I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh, my dove. I’m as much to blame as my father. I’ve failed you too many times. How you still love me is one of God’s greatest mysteries, or perhaps the Lord’s greatest miracle.”

  “Go now before he wakes. I love you, Roy.”

  “And I love you.”

  Amelia peered into the passageway before Roy stepped through the door. Roy counted to twenty before slipping away. Elizabeth tapped Ceit, and the two women walked the way they came until Elizabeth stopped them and lit the torch again. They wound their way through the labyrinth. Before they reached the door, Elizabeth whispered to Ceit.

  “Do we tell our husbands the part about them being used? Do we remain satisfied knowing that she never really wanted them and that the coupling was about leverage? Or do we confess all?”

  “I was wondering the same thing. I don’t know. I—I think they might feel better for knowing,” Ceit drew out her words as she tried to work it out as she answered. “Perhaps they will feel less guilty if they understand that it was more about business than pleasure.”

  “But it was about pleasure for them. That’s the part that still sticks in my throat.”

  “Me, too,” Ceit sighed.

  “I don’t know that I can avoid telling Edward. He’s the king’s brother, and that’s the reason she got involved with him. I always assumed it was for his looks. He’s virile and,” Elizabeth’s neck heated, a telling sign she was blushing and could only whisper the next word. “Talented.”

  “It’s the same with Tavish. He’s just not the king’s brother. Nay, he would have to be the king’s godson. But hearing her with Roy makes me realize that she would’ve approached our husbands even if they were like Fergus. It hurts because they are both exceptionally handsome.”

  “I agree. So, do we tell them?”

  “I think we have to. It’s rather important, at least in making them understand the trap Amelia found herself in. My heart aches for her. I never imagined I’d sympathize with that woman, but I do.”

  “Me, too. I can’t decide which is worse: having seen her sadness as Roy held her or being in your position and only hearing it and imagining her pain.”

  “I wish there were a means to help her. She may love Roy, but I can’t stomach her having to go to the Gregors. It sounds like a rough survival for them, and Laird Gregor will find another way to manipulate her and his son.”

  “I know, but I don’t have any solutions either,” Elizabeth responded before continuing along the path. They rounded the last bend and heard heavy footsteps coming toward them.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Beth!” Edward called.

  “Ceity!” Tavish bellowed.

  “Haud yer wheest, silly mon!” Ceit called back, her courtly accent slipping back to her Highland burr. It was the first time Elizabeth heard it since Ceit returned to court.

  “We’re coming, Eddie.” Elizabeth called back as she and Ceit scrambled to reach the men before their voices carried too far.

  The two men lumbered back to the door as the women followed. All four eased through the small stone doorway.

  “There’s nay way ye would fit, ye behemoth,” Tavish elbowed his brother in the stomach as he pushed past Magnus who held a torch toward the entrance. He spun around to face Ceit. He stood, feet spread hip-width apart and his arms crossed. “Ye were gone too long.”

  “It was impossible to see the hourglass in the dark,” Ceit purred as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I like it when you worry about me. Now you know how I feel every time you ride out on a sortie. Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

  “Nay,” Tavish snapped before turning into pudding and embracing Ceit, his face buried in her hair.

  “We heard everything we need,” Elizabeth took Edward’s hands and squeezed them before launching herself into his arms. “There’s so much to tell you.”

  “First off, I feel sorry for Amelia. She isn’t at all what we believed,” Ceit insisted as four skeptical faces looked at her as if she lost her mind. Deirdre and Magnus looked doubtful, but Edward and Tavish shook their heads. “Hear us out.”

  “She came to court much like Deirdre, Ceit, and I did. She didn’t have any choice. Her husband came as an informant for his clan. He hoped he’d improve his standing if he gathered useful information and sent it back to his cousin, the laird. He pimped Amelia and made her bed men for that information. After he died, it was the Gregor laird who forced her to continue. Returning to the Grants wasn’t an option. Her connection is too far from the laird to rely on kinship and her reputation’s too sullied to rely on the clan’s acceptance.” Elizabeth led the others to the chairs in the room. They pulled them close to continue speaking in hushed tones.<
br />
  “She’s in love with Roy Gregor, and he loves her, too.” Ceit held up her hand when others opened their mouths to interrupt. “He knows what her late husband and his father forced her to do. It’s all been business for her. Where would she go if she left court? No clan wanted her back all because of how her husband used her. The MacAdams weren’t her people. The Grants didn’t want her as Elizabeth explained, and the Gregors wouldn’t take her as long as she was useful here.”

  “Wait. How did you learn about Roy Gregor? Did she tell Baird all of this?” Edward wondered.

  “No,” Elizabeth shook her head. “He was there. Before Baird arrived.”

  “He risked his head on a pike?” Magnus asked. “He must love her.”

  “He does. I saw them. He hid in the wardrobe when Baird arrived. It turns out that Amelia doesn’t bed all the men as she’s led us to believe. She gets some too drunk to remember that they passed out before doing anything. She unlaces their breeks and makes it look like they coupled, but in actual fact, she just learns what she needs.”

  Tavish and Edward exchanged a look as they both tried to remember back to their encounters with Amelia. Both shook their heads, knowing that hadn’t been the case with them. They had done the deed with the woman.

  “How much can Roy love her if he knows she’s bedding other men?” Deirdre asked.

  “I wondered the same. It’s hard to explain, but they know their hands are tied. Like I said before, where would she go?” Ceit reminded them. “Unless she remarried, there wouldn’t be anywhere to go. If she remarried, it would have been to someone Laird Gregor agreed to since he’s pulling her strings. He wants her here as an informant and not as another mouth to feed in his clan. That leaves being a tavern wench or being hidden away as some laird’s leman. Both are hard lives, and women don’t last long working in taverns.”

  “I still don’t see how Roy can be convinced she bedded all those men just for the sake of the clan. She has taken some handsome men to her bed, some accomplished lovers. It couldn’t have all been a chore,” Deirdre gave a pointed look to both Tavish and Edward, which made them shift uncomfortably.