The Seduction of Miss Amelia Bell

by Paula Quinn

  Edmund cared for her, but she knew he loved his country and his kin so much more. It frightened her to think what he would do for either. Would he kill her uncle or Walter to stop the kingdoms from uniting? If he did, what would become of her father? What would become of his kin when war was declared on the MacGregors?

  “When will ye contact my uncle about my ransom?”

  “I already have,” he told her. “The night we took ye I penned a letter to him with my demands. Of course, I didn’t tell him who we are. No need to have him send an army to Skye.”

  “And yer demands are?”

  “Stop the Treaty of Union from being signed. Draw up something new that will protect the men and women of Scotland against the whims of kings.”

  Amelia shook her head. “He’ll never give up the influence and power he has with the English by doing either of those things.”

  “Even if he thought it would cost ye yer life if he didn’t?”

  “I fear not.”

  “And the man who is fortunate enough to be yer future husband?” He looked into her eyes and Amelia knew what he would do if he bore that title.

  She smiled instead of giving him an answer right away. “’Tis not fair what ye do.”

  “What do I do?” he asked, hooking one corner of his mouth in a soft grin.

  “Ye hold other men to yer high principles. ’Tisn’t fair, because none of them can measure up.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. She basked in the sight of him, delighted in the sound of him. She wanted to look at him, hear him, touch him, and more for the rest of her days. Back there on the road, she was tempted to let him carry her to the closest bush and have his way with her. Never, ever in her life had any man made her feel such stinging passion. She ached for the hot stroke of his tongue…there. His big, broad hands cupping her buttocks while he lifted her hips higher so that he could drink her deeper.

  She had to keep a clear head. She had duties to her family, just as he did.

  “I’m pleased that ye think that way of me, lass.” He grinned, scattering her thoughts. “But there are men whose standards make mine look fit fer a fool. Men who would give up their lives fer what they believe in and fer those whom they love. Men who understand that nothing is more vital to their breath than protecting what is theirs, whether it be their family, their land, their religion, or their name.”

  She stared at him, loving his principles because she understood them. She would do anything to keep her father safe. And hating those same principles because they would keep Edmund from her, and she, from him.

  “What do ye fight to protect, Edmund?”

  “All of it. Scotland is my home, Amelia. The MacGregors are my kin—I am joined to them by more than the marriage of my mother or the love of Camlochlin. I am joined to them by blood. I mentioned my brother and sister to ye already, did I not?” When she nodded, smiling, he told her about them.

  “Kyle is very much like my father. In fact, he looks almost exactly like him. He’s quite stealthy and secretive and is very close to Caitrina, Malcolm’s sister. He wanted to come with us but I don’t want him fighting in my line of vision. ’Twould distract me.”

  “Ye love him.”

  “Very much, and Nichola, too. Ye would like her. She’s full of life and joy. Everyone in Camlochlin adores her.”

  Amelia smiled, liking that he was so close with his siblings. “What is Camlochlin?”

  He closed his eyes and inhaled as if he were just transported to another place. A better place.

  “’Tis home.”

  She smiled, seeing the love for it in his eyes when he opened them and looked at her.

  “We’re outlawed, lass,” he reminded her. “We prefer folks don’t know where we live. Skye is a big island.”

  “The MacGregors remind me of Sarah,” she told him, looping her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder.

  He laughed. “How?”

  “People aren’t allowed to associate with them. They are looked down upon as if they are worth less than others. Sarah is looked at that way because she is a servant.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “But ye defy the rules. Ye love her and stand by her side despite yer kin’s disapproval.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. “Aye. I do.”

  “’Tisn’t just the MacGregors who suffer the scorn of others unjustly. ’Tis Scotland, as well. The English don’t esteem our law or our Parliament. We are our own country. We don’t need to unite with those who would subjugate us.”

  His words made Amelia angry, not with Edmund, but with her uncle and with Walter. She didn’t pay much attention to politics, but hearing Edmund’s side made her wish she had learned more so that she could confront the men who were making the decisions.

  She listened while Edmund told her what he believed would happen to Scotland once the union took place. The more he shared his feelings on the matter, the more she was determined to stand on Scotland’s side when he returned her home.

  When would that be? She didn’t want to return. Oh, she didn’t want to marry Walter or return to her mother’s constant criticism. She did miss her father and Alice though. And how they must be worried about her.

  She didn’t want to think about any of it now.

  She wanted to remain there with him, kissing him, being held in his arms, for the rest of the day but Grendel’s barking interrupted them twice.

  Finally, with a muffled oath, Edmund left the ledge and called for the dog to come. When Grendel didn’t return after another moment, Edmund turned to Amelia, a bit pale, then took off toward the woods. Amelia followed, calling Grendel’s name and feeling sick to her stomach when they heard him whine.

  They followed the pitiful sounds until they came upon him. But Grendel wasn’t alone.

  “What the hell do ye mean by not coming when I called ye?” Edmund demanded as if he expected the dog to answer him.

  Grendel looked at the slightly smaller blond dog beside him and then back to Edmund, giving all the answer he could.

  Amelia smiled and tugged on Edmund’s sleeve. “She’s very bonny.”

  “Grendel,” Edmund demanded. “Get back to the horse.”

  “Edmund.” Amelia pulled him away. “Give him some time with her.”

  “Amelia, I would not. She could be diseased—”

  “She looks healthy enough. Now come on with ye. Leave the poor boy to his sport.” Before he could protest any further, she pulled him away.

  “If my dog gets his gel, then so do I.”

  Amelia laughed when Edmund reached for her. She took off running but came to an abrupt stop when she hit a wall.

  She looked up into deep, dark blue eyes and a sneer that could have frightened the sun from shining. When the brute closed his beefy fingers around her wrist, Amelia’s breath stopped, along with her heart.

  “Where is my dog, woman?”

  “Let her go, Alistair,” Edmund warned in a low growl behind her.

  “Or what, MacGregor?”

  “Or ye’ll face the same fate as the rest of yer kin when they showed up at our door. This is Malcolm’s land. Ravenglade is his. Accept it and be gone.”

  “I’ll go as soon as I get my dog. Now where is she?”

  Amelia turned and aimed an apologetic look at Edmund. This was her fault. Alistair was obviously a Buchanan and his dog was likely not going to be returning to him in the next few minutes.

  “Better yet, keep the dog.” Alistair grinned at her, exposing two missing teeth behind his dark beard. “I’ll take this wee lass instead.” He turned to go, yanking her along by the wrist.

  “Amelia,” came Edmund’s silken voice behind her. “Cover yer face.” The metallic click that followed was likely no louder than the snap of a twig underfoot, but it boomed and thundered through her ear and rattled her knees.

  Alistair dropped her wrist as if it were on fire. He held up his hands and turned slowly to look down the barrel of Edmund’s pistol.<
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  “There’s no need fer that now, MacGregor. I’ve not harmed her.”

  “Look at her.”

  Alistair obeyed Edmund’s command and slipped his wary gaze to her. He squeezed his eyes shut when Edmund pushed the tip of the cool metal into his temple. The pistol was locked and loaded, ready to fire.

  “Remember her. Warn yer kin of her. Fer if harm befalls her at yer hands or at the hands of anyone in yer clan, I will come fer ye first. Understand, Buchanan? ’Twill be me who ends yer life.”

  “Aye, I understand.”

  Amelia looked away, taking pity on the grimy would-be kidnapper. Well, the second kidnapper actually.

  “Go then.” Edmund dropped his pistol to his side. “Wait around the bend fer yer dog.”

  He didn’t have to wait long. He hadn’t yet made it to the curve in the road when both dogs barreled into the clearing, then raced toward Alistair on long legs and sleek muscles.

  “Grendel!” Edmund shouted to him.

  Grendel stopped with a whine. He cast a last, brief glance to Alistair’s dog and then returned to Edmund’s side.

  Alistair stopped and looked behind him at the ruckus, and seeing his dog with Grendel, he deduced where she had been while lost.

  He shouted something at her that was caught on the wind and carried away before it reached Amelia’s ears. Then he kicked at her, provoking Grendel to take off again. Edmund held him steady.

  “’Tis my fault he’s striking her. I must help her.” Amelia took off toward them, leaving Edmund to watch while Alistair picked up his head and saw her coming.

  His face darkened into a mask of anger. “Ye thieving bastards ruined my dog letting her mate with that mongrel.” He yanked a short sword from his belt and lifted it over his head.

  Amelia screamed, unsure of whether he was going to kill her or the dog.

  A pistol ball stopped him in mid swing as it shot into his hand, blowing away bits of flesh from his fingers and spewing blood onto Amelia’s face.

  She screamed again. And then she fainted.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Amelia opened her eyes on one of the plush settees in the private solar. A low fire burned in the hearth, warming the chamber just enough to make it perfectly cozy. She snuggled deeper into her blanket. A thought struck her. How had she arrived here? She sat up, eyes wide open.

  She remembered. She closed her eyes, feeling queasy again. Alistair Buchanan’s blood…She touched her face. Someone had cleaned it.

  Something brushed against her hand and she looked down to see Grendel sitting at her side. She remembered the female and looked around. The dog wasn’t with them. Had Edmund left her there, at the waterfall? Amelia would have to go get her if he had. She swung her legs off the side of the settee when the door opened and Edmund entered the solar with Grendel’s girl hot on his heels and Sarah behind them, carrying tea on a tray.

  “Thank God, ye’re awake,” her friend cooed over her. “I was ready to skin Edmund alive with fear that he shot ye.”

  “I’m fine, Sarah.” Amelia smiled at her, then looked down at the dog. Edmund hadn’t left her.

  “She followed us home,” Edmund told her, coming to sit beside her. “She hasn’t left my heel since we arrived. She nearly tripped me down the stairs three times. I stumbled over her in the kitchen and fell into Henrietta, almost knocking the poor woman into her oven.”

  Amelia covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Trying to avoid stepping on her toes,” Edmund continued, “I dropped the tray of tea I meant to bring ye and burned my chest. Sarah finally took pity on me.”

  Amelia giggled, unable to help herself. Especially when she looked at Sarah, trying to conceal her grin.

  “We have to send her back.”

  “What? Nae!” Amelia took hold of Edmund’s arm. “Please, Edmund.”

  “What’s all this talk of we?” Sarah asked, eyeing them both with a clever little glint in her emerald eyes, a glint Amelia knew all too well. “And why do ye care if he keeps a dog ye’ll never see again, Amelia?”

  “Aye,” Edmund agreed, next to her. “Ye’re returning to Seafield. What concern is the dog to ye?”

  She blinked at him, then folded her arms across her chest. She wouldn’t let him blackmail her with a dog. “I believe she was mistreated with the Buchanans. Look how bony she is. There is no shine to her coat. I’ll not have her go back there.”

  “Mayhap yer husband won’t mind taking her when he takes ye,” Edmund mused.

  “I’m certain that fer me, he would make an exception.”

  “What would the chancellor do,” Sarah teased, pouring Amelia’s tea, “with ye and a dog rainin’ catastrophe down on his head?”

  “It could prove to be the end of him,” Edmund said with a sinuous smirk creeping across his lips. “Mayhap ye should go to him and after a month, when he’s likely dead, I’ll come back fer ye and ye don’t have to worry about yer father’s ruin.”

  Amelia just stared at him for a moment, then she shook her head at him when he winked at her. “What makes ye think I would want ye to come back fer me once I’m a widow and free from the promise of marriage?”

  “Because I would have yer dog.”

  Amelia looked at Grendel’s girl, her tongue hanging out of one side of her panting mouth, huge, brown eyes fastened on Edmund. Amelia had to smile. He would have her dog all right. The beast loved him already. She sighed and smiled, letting Edmund have the win, for now. “She needs a name.”

  “Nuisance,” Edmund supplied.

  “Nae.”

  “Miss Fortune.”

  Amelia cast Sarah a dark look for her suggestion.

  “Pest.”

  “Edmund! Stop that! She adores ye and ye’re sitting here hurting her feelings! How could ye?”

  “I don’t need another dog, Amelia. Honestly. Grendel is enough to handle.”

  “How about Gazardiel?” Amelia suggested, ignoring him. “’Tis the name of the angel of new beginnings.”

  At the mention of her new name, Gazardiel wagged her tail. Edmund cast a glance heavenward, and Sarah offered him a pitying look.

  Quite pleased with herself, Amelia leaned back in the settee and waved at Lucan and Malcolm when the latter helped Lucan limp into the solar.

  “What are ye doing dragging him about the castle?” Sarah scolded Malcolm as he helped Lucan to a chair. “I told ye he’s not ready to be up on his feet yet.”

  “He’s strong enough to…” Malcolm began, then stopped when Gazardiel stepped in front of him and nearly sent him sprawling to the floor. “What the hell is that?”

  “She’s a dog, Cal,” Lucan said, reaching for her shaggy head and scratching her behind the ears.

  “I can see that. What’s she doing here?”

  “Her name is Gazardiel,” Amelia told them with a happy grin. “We can call her Gaza fer short. Edmund saved her from Alistair Buchanan and we’re keeping her.”

  For a moment, Malcolm simply looked at them. Then, “I must ask ye, Edmund, d’ye think all this is wise? I’ve said nothin’. How can I? But how far will this go?”

  Edmund stared at him liked he’d just sprouted a tail. “How far will what go?”

  “This.” He motioned to Amelia. “Enjoyin’ her is one thing—”

  “Cal!” Lucan growled when Amelia blushed to her roots where she sat.

  “Och, hell, she knows he must let her go,” Malcolm argued with his cousin. “The days are gettin’ shorter. Soon we’ll know if the treaty is bein’ postponed or not. If it’s not—”

  “Malcolm,” Edmund cut him off with a quiet warning.

  “Think clearly, Edmund!” his cousin continued. “She’s too valuable to us right now. Ye’ve forgotten our cause.”

  “Nae, I have not.” Edmund stood to his feet. “Not fer a moment.”

  Amelia listened with a heavy heart. She knew all of this. She’d known about Edmund’s cause and his devotion to it from the start. They’d pretended, live
d like they had all the time in the world. But they didn’t. Neither one of them wanted to forsake their responsibilities to their families by running away from them and into each other’s arms. But she’d almost done it. She’d let herself care for him, perhaps even love him. She assumed he felt the same. But he’d stayed detached. He’d kept his feelings for her separate from his purpose. It broke her heart and made her wish she had been just as strong.

  The truth hit hard, making her feel ill. She had to leave before she fell to the floor in a heap of sobs.

  “Ye’re lettin’ her keep a dog, cousin,” she heard Malcolm say. “How much more will ye grant her if she asks?”

  Amelia didn’t want to hear his answer. Either way, it was the end for them. She wasn’t prepared for the pain. She took off with Grendel close behind. God help her, she loved his dog. She escaped into the garden and sat on the stone bench, hugging Grendel. All his talk of possessing her, about having a life with her and a pair of dogs, felt so right, like everything she’d ever wanted.

  It hurt too much to lose.

  But she knew it had never been hers to begin with.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Edmund watched Amelia flee the Hall with Grendel and he moved to go after her. Malcolm stopped him.

  “She wasn’t supposed to mean somethin’ to ye.” Cal took him by the upper arms and fixed his level gaze on him. “I thought ye understood that, Edmund. Ye’re always the levelheaded lad of the bunch. Fall fer her, and our cause is lost.”

  Aye, Edmund knew his cousin spoke the truth. But…Ah, hell, there were so many buts. He wanted to be with her. He couldn’t stand the thought of her marrying the chancellor…or anyone else for that matter. They’d played a dangerous game, pretending like they hadn’t a care, or a purpose or duty. He’d gotten so caught up in it that he had forgotten… But he couldn’t forget. Scotland needed him. Malcolm was right, she was too valuable to what they needed to do.