The Seduction of Miss Amelia Bell

by Paula Quinn

  She forgot about her father, her mother, everyone in her life, while she waited hidden in the darkness, shaking, counting moments until it became utterly unbearable, waiting for the soldiers to leave.

  What had she done? She tried as best she could not to sob as images of Grendel, ever at her feet, assailed her. She’d come to love the way one of his ears pointed upward while the other flopped over his brow. It made him look especially adorable. Aye, he may have been bred and raised to fight at Edmund’s side, but around her, Grendel was a huge puppy.

  “I come to take a shyt in private,” the soldier told his friend, “when this mongrel come out of nowhere and attacks me.”

  The other one laughed. “Must have been that god-awful singing of yours.”

  Amelia sobbed quietly into her hands.

  When they left the scene a few moments later, she left her hiding place and walked slowly to Grendel’s body lying in the leaves, lifeless.

  She fell to her knees.

  “Grendel.” She moved his head into her lap and ran her hand over his shaggy head, her tears falling into his fur. “Oh please, boy, don’t go. What will I do without ye?” She had caused this. If she hadn’t left Ravenglade, Grendel would likely be sleeping at her feet in the Great Hall right now, not dead in her lap. She thought nothing could ever happen after this instant that could be worse. She was wrong. She was so very wrong.

  She knew that what had happened was tragic, a thing never to be forgotten. But when she heard Edmund calling her name, she remembered that the tragedy was not hers alone. Grendel was his.

  She didn’t want to look, to see him coming, to see the truth and the horror and the sorrow dawning on his face.

  “Amelia!” he came out shouting, not caring whom he alerted.

  Unable to stop herself, she turned to face him, to quiet him, lest they shoot him, too. His steps faltered when he saw her on her knees.

  He moved to run to her but she held up her palm, stopping him. “Come no closer!” She wouldn’t have him see. She wished he never had to see.

  “Amelia, were ye shot?” His voice broke with emotion, and refusing her wish, he took a step closer. “Are ye hurt, my love? I heard a—” He ceased. That was a good way to describe what happened in those next few seconds. Edmund ceased.

  His beautiful blue eyes welled in pools of tears as they fixed on the one she held in her arms. His head shook, denying what he saw. He took a step back, wishing, Amelia guessed, that he could go back. His mouth opened for air he didn’t care about breathing. His legs suddenly moved, prompted, it seemed, by the tight groan that escaped his lips. When he stood over them, Amelia thought he would toss back his head and howl like some aggrieved beast, but his sorrow was far more heartbreaking.

  He sank to his knees beside her and reached for his dog. Amelia surrendered Grendel without a word. She wanted to get up and run, run and never bring such misery to anyone again. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave Edmund to this alone.

  “How did this happen?” he asked quietly, trying to look at the gentle beast in his arms through his tears.

  “He followed me. A soldier was singing.”

  But Edmund didn’t hear. He’d closed his eyes and buried his face in Grendel’s fur.

  She did this to him. Who was next? Darach? One of the others? Would it be someone at Camlochlin when her uncle followed her there? Edmund’s beloved father, perhaps? How long would she stay with him, risking his life and the lives of his family to her misfortune?

  The others had appeared from the tunnel, alerted most likely by the pistol shot. Amelia didn’t know how long they’d been there, but they stood back, giving Edmund his respect. She heard one of the men sob and another swear and storm away. Luke, Malcolm, and Darach had lost a friend and Amelia felt the weight of that loss more and more. But when she spotted Gaza a few feet away sitting between the trees, her eyes steady on Edmund and Grendel while a long, high-pitched cry left her body, Amelia finally rose to her feet and ran.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  It didn’t take Amelia long to find the army. Trying to remain hidden while she found her uncle was another matter entirely. There was no point in finding her father first. He couldn’t stop the attack on Ravenglade. Her uncle could.

  She was more certain than before that she had done the right thing by leaving Edmund. He would end up like Grendel. Deep down she always knew. Either her misfortune would get him, or her uncle’s army would.

  She was finally spotted and taken into the custody of Captain David Pierce, a man whom Amelia knew from the Queensberry garrison. He didn’t treat her roughly while he brought her to her uncle’s tent. Even when she tried to break free of him, he merely yanked her forward.

  “The duke will be curious to know from which way you came.”

  Amelia’s heart pounded. Good Lord, she hadn’t thought of what to tell him! “I escaped.”

  “That’s obvious,” the captain said, his lips crooked into a smirk that didn’t reach his steely gray eyes. “But how? The bridge isn’t down.”

  Amelia glared at him. “Where is my uncle’s tent, Captain?” She remembered to breathe when he pointed to it. It was only a short distance away. She needed more time to think about how she had escaped her captors and gotten here.

  “And my father?” she asked. “Where is he? I would like to see him first.” Her father wouldn’t care about how she came to be there, only that she was safe. Speaking to him would give her more time to think.

  “I’m sure your uncle will send for Lord Selkirk after he speaks with you.”

  Damn it, but he was a stubborn man—probably why he never married—but thanks to Sarah’s past instruction on how to get what you need from a man, Amelia knew what to do. “Captain.” She sniffed and dabbed the corners of her eyes with her sleeves. “I have been through a tremendous ordeal. I honestly don’t know how I lived through this night.” It was easy to make herself cry. Grendel’s death and Edmund’s sorrow were still fresh in her mind. “’Twas the worst of my life,” she sobbed, telling him the truth. “I want nothing more than to feel safe again in my father’s arms.”

  He stared at her, trying to see more in her eyes than she cared to show him. When she thought he would refuse her, he looked around and then nodded. “You will have a few moments only. I will bring your mother to his tent.”

  “Nae.” Amelia touched her fingers to his arm. “She will be angry with ye fer not bringing me directly to her brother.”

  Captain Pierce knew it to be true. Everyone who knew Millicent Bell knew that her loyalty fell to her brother before her husband. If she discovered that the captain of her brother’s guard did anyone’s bidding besides or before the duke’s, she would make certain the duke knew about it.

  “Come with me then, lady.” He tugged her forward. “See your father quickly.”

  Amelia managed a soft smile and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. The captain smiled back.

  They moved quickly, quietly through the shadows until they reached her father’s tent. At the entrance, Amelia’s heart battered in her chest. She missed her father so much. It felt like months since she’d hugged him, kissed him, told him she loved him. She couldn’t wait another second and pushed aside the tent flap.

  Amelia thought her well of tears had dried up, but she was wrong. The instant her father turned in his chair and saw her the floodgates reopened.

  “Papa.”

  His dark eyes lit from within as if a flame that had died was rekindled. He stared at her for a moment or two as if she were a ghost and not real at all. Then his voice broke on a ragged note as tears filled his eyes. “Amelia?” He took a step forward. “My daughter?”

  She ran the rest of the way to him and he caught her in his eager, waiting embrace. “Are ye well, Mellie?” he cried into her hair, holding her.

  She was now. For tonight, at least. Oh, she had so much to tell him. She would tell him everything, starting with the night she went dancing.

  St
anding by the entry, Captain Pierce kept his stoic expression unchanged when Amelia smiled at him, thanking him silently for this time.

  “I knew yer uncle wouldn’t agree to the demands. I feared that whoever had ye would kill ye.”

  She shook her head, sitting at her father’s feet a little while later. “I’m sorry ye worried so, Papa. I was well taken care of, well protected.”

  “We were informed by one Ennis Buchanan that he saw ye being kissed by Grant. I suspect after yer night of dancing, he meant Edmund MacGregor.”

  She didn’t deny it but nodded her head. “Aye, he meant him,” she admitted quietly. She looked away from his searching gaze, unsure of how to tell him the truth. That she’d fallen in love with a Highland outlaw.

  “I see,” her father said just as softly. “Ye care fer him?”

  She nodded her head again and then dipped her face to his knee. “I am quite madly in love with him, Papa. And tonight, I killed his dog.”

  “The duke’s tent?”

  Edmund peered through the heavy brush partially blocking his view of the aforementioned structure. “It could be.” He leaned back and rubbed his hand over his jaw. How the hell did he know whose tent it was? What did he know about anything? She tricked him. Why had she tricked him? Why not just tell him the truth, that she wanted to go back to her father, to Walter? Why had she lied straight to his face shortly before she left? The instant she had a chance to go, she fled without even a word. Twice! Was she so heartless? He didn’t know. But he was going to find out.

  “Edmund,” the man to his right whispered. “This is a poor idea. We cannot fight all these men.”

  “What would ye have me do, Luke?”

  “We would have ye use yer head,” Malcolm said in a hushed voice. “No’ lose it. We need to devise a plan. We’ll get her back, but no’ by dyin’.”

  “Go back then and devise something,” Edmund told them both. “I’m not leaving.”

  “I’ll stay with ye, Edmund.”

  Edmund turned to Darach. Any other time, he would have welcomed Darach’s fearless loyalty. But not now. Not when they faced an army. Hell, he didn’t want them to be here. When he noticed that Amelia had left after Grendel…he’d tried to go off on his own to find her but the lads had followed him. They had tried to stop him from getting close to the duke’s camp, but Edmund knew that was where Amelia had gone. He would not be stopped.

  He regretted his decision only because it put his cousins in danger. But now was not the time to doubt himself. He had to talk to her, to find out how she could leave him and how long she had been preparing to do so.

  “This doesn’t concern any of ye,” he told them softly. “Go back to Ravenglade. Gather the others and go. I will catch up later.”

  “Nae.”

  “Darach, ye’ll do as I say.”

  Darach chuckled. “Ye still like to think of yerself as m’ faither then.”

  He was about to tell the young hellion that he would kick his arse like his father never had before when Malcolm folded his arms and settled into his position behind a thick tree trunk. Luke did the same, letting Edmund know that none of them were going anywhere.

  Very well then. He was patient. He would wait until they were asleep and then he would find her.

  It took longer than he expected. Three hours later, Malcolm and Luke sent Darach back to the castle to inform William and the others of their delay. Amelia had been taken out of the tent by the same dark-haired man who brought her into it, and then escorted to another, bigger tent behind the troops.

  Edmund watched, alert and unwearied, while her mother was brought to her next, escorted by the Lord Chancellor of Scotland, Earl of Seafield, Amelia’s future husband.

  He almost left his concealment when he saw Seafield. Had Amelia chosen the earl over him? Was she kissing him right now, telling him how horrible these last few weeks had been for her?

  He knew he was on the verge of madness to even consider such betrayal from her. He knew better, but he sill considered storming into the camp and taking her back.

  After another hour passed, his cousins had finally begun to snore. Edmund said a silent prayer and then stretched his limbs and crept along the shadows to yet another tent where Amelia had been taken. There were still enough of Queensberry’s guards awake to cause a problem. Edmund didn’t want to cause a disturbance and bring the rest of them down on his head, so he was careful not to make a sound and slipped into Amelia’s tent without being spotted.

  She sat on the ground, amid blankets and pillows, her knees pressed to her chest. Illuminated by candlelight, she looked afraid and alone…and beautiful.

  But she wasn’t alone. She hadn’t been alone all night. Her family and her uncle’s guards were close by. He had to hurry.

  “Amelia.” His voice was low, quiet, anguished.

  She looked up and gasped, then sprang to her feet. “Edmund, what are ye doing here? Ye must go! Someone will come and find ye here and—”

  “What are ye doing here, Amelia?” he asked, cutting her off. “Why did ye run away? Is this the life ye want?”

  She shook her head and tears fell from her face. “’Tis what’s best.”

  “Best fer who?” he demanded, raising his voice and no longer giving a damn who heard him. “’Tis not best fer me or ye.”

  “Edmund.” She reached for him. “I will only bring ye more pain. My father—”

  “More pain than this?” He stepped away from her. Too much had happened tonight. He felt on the brink of breaking and doing something he would regret, like tossing her over his shoulder, carrying her the hell out of here, and killing whoever got in his way. “How could anything ye do cause more pain than what tortures me right now?” He watched her tears slip down her cheeks and felt the sting of his own aching to fall. “We made plans fer a future together, Amelia.”

  “They were fancies, Edmund.”

  “Nae, they were real. I asked ye to stay with me. To be the mother of my bairns…”

  “I want that, Edmund.”

  He wanted to laugh, to mock her words. But he couldn’t laugh. Not tonight. Mayhap not for a long while to come. “Is that why ye slipped out of Ravenglade by tunnel tonight? Is that why Grendel is dead?”

  He hadn’t meant for his words to bring such sorrow to her face. He knew Grendel’s death wasn’t her fault. But it left him empty nonetheless.

  “I had to go, Edmund. I owe my father so much,” she cried. “I never meant fer Grendel to die! Don’t ye see? This pain follows me, Edmund. Ye tried to fight it but it will never stop and yer demise will be next! Do ye truly believe that my uncle would have left us alone? He would have killed ye, mayhap yer family.”

  Someone made a sound outside the tent. Amelia lifted her hand as if to touch him. “Go! Leave here quickly.”

  “D’ye love me, Amelia?

  “More than life. But—”

  “Then come with me.”

  “Please don’t be a fool, Edmund,” she cried, pushing him now toward the opening. “Ye must go! ’Tisn’t safe!”

  “’Tis too late fer that,” he told her as two guards rushed in and grabbed him. They yanked his wrists behind his back and shouted for more guards to come.

  But Edmund didn’t fight back. He let them take his weapons and then him without a word, keeping his eyes on Amelia as they pulled him outside. She followed, demanding that they let him go.

  “Please, Captain, he meant no harm!”

  “I’ve given in to your desires once already this night, my lady.”

  Edmund recognized the captain as the same man who had escorted her around the camp earlier. He paid the soldier little attention while the camp came alive around him. He looked toward the tree line, hoping his cousins stayed where they were. He knew they would. Luke, at least, was not impetuous. He would keep the other two safe.

  “Why have ye done this?” Amelia’s anguished voice drew his attention back to her. “They will kill ye. Why did ye come here?”
<
br />   “Fer ye,” he told her softly.

  They had stopped and Edmund caught the captain’s command to alert the duke that a prisoner was being brought to him.

  “Edmund MacGregor?” the captain asked him while they waited and more guardsmen were awakened.

  “Aye, Edmund MacGregor,” he told him, emphasizing his surname.

  The captain didn’t look impressed but sized him up from foot to crown with mild interest. “Do Highlanders wear English garb now?”

  “Do captains in a traitor’s army concern themselves with fashion as well as warfare now?”

  The captain laughed, then pulled him along by the elbow. “You’ve got balls to stroll right in here when half my men are still awake. I’ll give you that, MacGregor.”

  “Captain Pierce, please,” Amelia cried, following them. “This is all my fault. Please let him go.” She put her hand to the captain’s sleeve, trying to stop him.

  Behind them, another soldier who’d been poking Edmund in the back the entire time pushed her hand away roughly and was about to admonish her when Edmund pivoted on his heel and faced him.

  “Touch her again,” he warned slowly, his voice a deadly combination of silk and steel, “and I will crack yer skull in two.”

  The soldier laughed but didn’t speak another word to Amelia.

  Captain Pierce pulled him forward toward another tent, one that Amelia had been inside earlier. Edmund guessed it was the duke’s. When he stepped inside, he saw that he was correct.

  “Edmund MacGregor, my lord,” Pierce announced.

  The Duke of Queensberry turned from looking out beyond a large flap in the back of the tent and smiled. He was not an imposing man and Edmund couldn’t help but wonder how he’d managed to get so many to agree to sign his treaty.