A Laird for Christmas

by Gerri Russell

  Amelia’s gaze narrowed. “My mother and I were kept hidden so that you and Jacob could prosper and thrive.”

  “How long have you—”

  “Lived in here?” Amelia said with a forced laugh. “Eighteen years. I was born here at Bellhaven and have been nothing more than a prisoner for eighteen years.”

  Amelia had been born after Jane, while her own mother was still alive. And on the heels of those revelations came another question, “Where is your mother?” Jane asked.

  “She died two years ago.” Ice laced Amelia’s voice.

  Two years ago. Was that timing a coincidence? That was when her father had taken Jacob back under his wing and demanded he start taking an interest in warring and the estate, and when Nicholas had been forced to leave her behind.

  Jane shook her head as she tried to come to terms with the fact she had a half sister, and with what Amelia was saying. “Why would my—our—father do this? He might have been cruel at times, but to lock you away for eighteen years?”

  “He built tunnels around the castle like the one you found tonight so that we could move in the shadows, but never truly face the light of day.”

  “Until Father died.” Her chest tight, Jane tried to imagine what life would have been like for anyone so separated from the world. It must have been every bit as horrific as what Jules had suffered in gaol. Hard on the heels of that thought was another. “How do you receive basic supplies? Food?”

  “Lately, Clara. Before that, another MacGuire servant who was brought into your house to look after my mother and me.”

  Jane frowned. “Why the MacGuires?”

  “They are my clan, my mother’s clan.” Amelia shrugged, but her gaze darkened.

  “I do not understand,” Jane said, confusion lacing her words. “Why did you not go back to your clan? My father appears not to have locked you in if you were able to get out of the castle as you did during the hunt.”

  “It was easier to stay. Besides, that’s what my mother wanted. She wanted it all, everything that was due to her—your father and this castle.”

  “And the MacGuires helped?”

  Amelia nodded, her features hard. “They are ready to take what should be mine.”

  “They attack the castle now,” Jane informed her.

  “Yes,” Amelia replied. “They have come to accomplish what I could not. They are here to kill you, Bryce, and Lady Margaret, then take Bellhaven and her people for me.”

  Jane stiffened her spine. “I am very sorry for what you have suffered. No one should be locked up and hidden away like you have for so many years, but you have no legal right to this castle.”

  “With you dead, unmarried, and childless, I do.”

  “Give this insanity up, Amelia, before it is too late,” Jane said. “I have an army now. Your people will be harmed if they try to take Bellhaven. Is that what you want? More blood on your hands?”

  Amelia opened her hands and turned to look at her palms. “I will do whatever I have to do to take my revenge against you.” A strange light entered her eyes as she moved closer to Jane. “You lived the life I wanted. The life I deserved, since Lord Lennox was also my father.”

  Jane held her ground. “I do not know why my father did what he did, but his actions do not give you a right to strike out at those people around you who knew nothing about you, who would have helped you had they known. Your clan does not need to fight its way in, when I will let you walk out.”

  “Would you?” Amelia asked, her tone harsh. “You would let me walk away when I am to blame for your own suffering?”

  Jane frowned at that. “The attacks?”

  “That and so much more.” Amelia offered her a tight-lipped smile. “You truly have no idea?”

  She laughed again, the sound harsh and unfeeling. “Explain yourself.”

  Amelia came closer, moved in front of Jane. “Since you will not be leaving this room, what does it matter if I tell you?” She smiled as she came forward, backing Jane against the wall like a lion cornering its prey.

  Jane reached for her calf, for her dagger, then froze when she remembered she had left it with Margaret.

  The air in the hidden chamber sizzled with tension. Amelia’s smile dipped, her gaze hardened. “You want the truth?”

  Jane kept her back straight, refusing to be intimidated. “Yes. All of it.”

  “Your mother?” Amelia asked. “She died in childbirth?”

  “Yes,” Jane said as a chill worked down her spine.

  Amelia shook her head. “My mother poisoned her just as I tried to poison you a few nights past.”

  Jane’s mouth went dry. “Poison? Why?”

  Amelia smirked. “Because my mother wanted her to die so she could have Father all to herself. She had hoped the poison would have worked sooner so that your brother would never have been born, but alas, your mother was stronger than she anticipated, her love for your brother too strong to give up before he was safely into the world.”

  Pain and anger and sorrow coiled inside Jane at the confession. “Did Father know?”

  Amelia nodded, her own amusement growing at the sight of Jane’s pain. “Not at first, but eventually he saw what my mother would do to keep him for herself. He was furious with my mother for months.”

  Jane swallowed back her anger, forcing herself to think. She had to stay in control of her emotions and find a way out. She drew a sharp breath as the details of her life started to fall into place. “It was after my mother’s death that Father changed. He pulled away from Jacob and me. He sent for Lady Margaret to care for us then.”

  “My mother begged him to allow her to care for the child, but he refused.” Amelia’s face hardened. “He threatened to send us back to the clan. But my mother threatened to poison his precious children if he did.”

  Why did her father not raise an army against them? Why not turn his own men on these two women? Why would he allow such extortion to occur? Was he that ashamed of what he had done? Jane leaned into the wall at her back, needing the support for her suddenly unstable legs.

  Instead of fighting back, her father had distanced himself from Jane and Jacob, not because of anything they had done. It was because of Amelia’s mother, and perhaps his own secrets that he hoped they would never discover. He had allowed himself to become a victim to a madwoman’s scheme.

  “There’s more.” Amelia’s evil smile returned.

  Jane’s body shook, despite her attempt to control her response. “What more could you do to us than steal our mother and our father?”

  “Two years ago, I watched the way you and Nicholas Kincaid looked at each other. I knew it would not be long before you were happy once again, and I could not allow that.”

  “You made Father send him away?” Jane asked in disbelief.

  Amelia gave her a penetrating stare. “With my mother gone, I had to pick up where she left off, controlling your family, torturing you for what we had suffered.”

  “You are mad,” Jane said with a catch in her voice.

  “Probably.” Amelia shrugged. “The whole of my life has been spent watching you. Hating you.” Her eyes hardened. She grabbed Jane’s throat, pressed her head against the wall, ringing her flesh.

  Rage suffused Amelia’s face.

  Jane let her pent-up anger flow freely. She slammed her foot down on Amelia’s foot.

  Her sister’s hands slackened.

  Jane darted for her father’s sword. Extending the blade, she held Amelia at arm’s length.

  “You are the cause of all that is bad in my life.” A throbbing vein stood out against Amelia’s temple.

  Jane gripped the hilt tightly. “I am not responsible for your pain, Amelia. You are.”

  “No, it is your fault I was locked in here,” Amelia screamed in fury.

  “I am sorry for you,” Jane said quietly.

  “Sorry for me?” Amelia screamed in outrage. Her gray eyes darkened dangerously. She swept the candlestick from the bedside table
and held it against the bed curtains. “I will take everything away from you, everything that you love. I will strike your most beloved castle from the inside and out. I will hurt you and hurt you until you beg me for death.”

  Jane’s hand shook on the sword as flame leapt from the wick to the bed linens as easily as water rolling down a hill. Fire wicked onto the threads, came to life, and continued to grow and spread across the dry surface.

  Amelia threw the candlestick aside, let it roll across the floor until it came to rest at the bottom of the tapestry. Again the flame from the wick leapt to the dry cloth, slithering like a snake up and across the threads. “If you are going to kill me, then do it. I want you to have the stain of my murder on your soul. If you do not kill me, then I will kill you. Only one of us can survive,” Amelia cursed as she charged forward.

  Jane hitched a breath, turned the sword sideways, hitting Amelia on the side of the face with the hilt. The blow sent her backwards. “We need to put out the flames.”

  Amelia clutched her face and cried out. “You will pay for that.”

  The flames on the bed jumped from one corner of the bed curtains to the other. Jane leapt toward the chair and scooped up her father’s standard. She lowered her sword and batted at the fabric, desperately trying to stop the spread of the flames.

  “Smother the flames,” Jane shouted to Amelia, but Amelia lunged forward and picked up the chair. She hurled it at Jane.

  Jane leapt sideways, missing the blow. “If we do not put out the flames, neither of us will have a castle left to inherit.”

  Amelia shook her head. “I would rather die than help you.”

  Jane clutched the sword in her hand, and despite her anger, a murderous response would not come.

  “We both will die if we stay here.” Smoke filled the chamber, burned Jane’s throat, stung her eyes, and made it hard to breathe. She moved back toward the entrance to the chamber. “Come with me. We can figure all this out when we are safe.”

  Amelia’s gaze turned stony. “This is a trick. You want me to go with you so you can seek retribution.”

  “In that you are wrong. I am not like you.” Jane lowered the sword. “You are free to leave. No one is keeping you in.”

  “Leave?” she cried.

  “Yes, leave. You are free to leave Bellhaven, go back to your people. No one is left to hold you back. I will help you, Amelia, if you will only let me.”

  “I cannot leave. This place is all I know.” Her face crumpled. “I did not think about anything beyond killing you.”

  “Amelia,” Jane cried as the flames intensified. “We have to leave now!”

  She shook her head. “I have nothing.”

  “Yes, you do. You have your clan. You have me. We are half sisters. That has to mean something to you.”

  “You mean nothing to me,” she said, her voice no longer hard. Only fear echoed in her words.

  “I know you must be scared, but I will help you.” Jane backed into the tunnel as the heat became oppressive. Bryce’s room was their only escape. She took another step back as the heat of the flames grew hotter. “Amelia.” Jane tried again. “You have to leave.”

  “No. You hate me.”

  “No, Amelia. Despite everything that you have done, I do not hate you. I can forgive you, for all you have suffered. I will be true to my word.” Jane reached out her left hand again, urging her half sister forward.

  Amelia hesitated, then reached for her hand. But instead of coming with Jane, she jerked her back into the chamber, into the heat and flames. The sword fell from Jane’s fingers as the two of them tumbled to the floor.

  Amelia clawed at Jane’s face, catching her on the cheek. Jane fought back; she landed a blow in the center of Amelia’s chest. It was enough to break the girl’s grasp and Jane scrambled away and onto her feet just as the glass of the window shattered, sending shards in all directions.

  Jane coughed and doubled over as the thick smoke filled her lungs. Her vision blurred. She staggered toward the secret door. “I am leaving, Amelia. Are you coming with me?” Time stood still as Jane met Amelia’s gaze. Her sister’s face went through an entire cycle of emotions—fear, anger, and finally resignation. “Nay.”

  Behind Amelia, the flickering yellow light of the fire glowed. Fed by the air in the chamber, licking tongues of flame curled outward, jumped, and spread to anything in its path.

  With one last look at the half sister she would never know, Jane ran into the tunnel. Flames followed on her heels as she beat a path to Bryce’s chamber, praying the door would be unlocked. Heat from the flames burned her back. She came to the end of the tunnel. Felt for the lever that would release her. One click, the door opened. Jane jumped inside the bedchamber just as flames licked at the floorboards where she had stood moments before. She left the door open, even though it left an easy path for the smoke and flames, which filled the chamber quickly. She would leave the way open for Amelia should she change her mind.

  In an effort to preserve herself, Jane leapt toward the outer door, depressed the latch, and moaned when the door refused to budge. She pounded on the thick oak. “Help! Is anyone there?”

  No response.

  “Clara, if you can hear me, please set me free.”

  Nothing.

  Jane looked around the chamber for another means of escape and found nothing.

  Smoke curled through the air, clogging the room. Her eyes burning, Jane felt her way to the unlit brace of candles, grasped it, and returned to the door. She brought the hard metal down against the lock, determined to free herself from the building inferno.

  She struck the latch again and again, until she felt her vision blurring. Her throat burned. A cry of despair escaped her lips as she felt the life drain out of her.

  Through the haze that had settled in her brain, Jane thought she heard footsteps over the increasing roar of the flames. She looked behind her in the bedchamber, expecting Amelia, when the sound came from the outside of the door.

  “Lady Jane!” Angus’s voice called out.

  The door pushed in. Angus spilled through the opening. “Praise heaven I found ye.”

  He reached for her hand. Jane took it, grateful for his assistance as her lungs burned and she doubled over, coughing. Angus lifted her into his arms. “I need to get you out of here.”

  “Amelia,” Jane said, her throat raw. It hurt to speak.

  “Who?”

  “A secret room. My sister.” A fit of coughing robbed her of further words. She pointed toward the open tunnel. Angus understood. He set her in the hallway and raced through the tunnel. Jane’s heartbeat pounded in her ears as she stared back through the room and down the hallway. Fire was everywhere.

  Angus joined her a moment later. Through a veil of tears she saw him shake his head as he gathered her in his arms and, with long strides, hauled her to safety.

  In the great hall, the women and children headed out the doors. Jane turned to Angus. “Is there nothing we can do to stop the flames?” she asked, gasping air into her aching lungs.

  “The fire spread quickly. Too quickly.” He reached inside his tunic and pulled forth an oiled cloth. “I found these outside in the hallway. Someone set this fire intentionally.”

  A flash of fire streaked across the great hall, igniting the long wooden tables, benches and tapestries.

  “Come, let’s join the others. The flames are too intense, their stranglehold on the castle too strong.” Angus guided her out of the keep and into the night air.

  Outside, her people gathered. Margaret organized them into groupings where the more able-bodied could help either the young or the old as they made their way across the courtyard and to the inner bailey. Margaret clutched the puppy, Angel, in her arms. At the sight, Jane drew a breath of fresh clean air and felt her muddled senses clear. “What about the battle?” she asked Angus. “Will we be safe if we leave the inner bailey?

  “The MacGuires are still a threat, but the fire is certain to kill us if
we stay.”

  Jane turned back toward the keep. A reddish aura rose from the growing core of heat and flames that spread into the night sky, while a heavy choking mass of gray smoke billowed around them.

  Jane shivered as the cool night air touched her heated skin. Tiny flecks of white fell from the sky, and for a moment Jane thought it was ash. But as she held her hand up, tiny flakes fell upon her flesh, hovering for a moment before melting. Snow.

  Jane tipped her head back. The moon peeked out from behind dark clouds, bright and full, mixing its light with that of the fire to cast a look that was nearer to daylight than evening across the land.

  Bellhaven Castle was burning. There was nothing she could do but let it burn.

  The MacGuires brought down the wall of the inner bailey with a final strike of their catapult. Stone exploded, landing against the ground with a mighty thump. A roar went up as the MacGuires charged. Nicholas and the others were prepared. They held their swords and bows at the ready, waiting to strike. The clan climbed up over the rubble and prepared to engage when they stopped cold, staring gazes and slackened jaws, at something behind Nicholas and the other men.

  Nicholas turned and looked in stunned disbelief at the roaring inferno that was Bellhaven Castle. He heard David’s harsh imprecation, but could not tear his gaze away from the macabre sight before him.

  The roofs of Bellhaven were being devoured by flames.

  “Lady Jane,” Jules cried.

  The shocked murmurs of the men sounded behind him.

  “We have to get Lady Jane and Lady Margaret out of there.” Lord Galloway’s sword found its sheath as he bolted forward, only to stop a heartbeat later as dark figures appeared through the haze of smoke.

  Nicholas saw Jane, illuminated by the flames, as she came rushing through the gate to the outer bailey with Lady Margaret, Angus, and many of the servants in tow.

  Nicholas ran to her and grabbed her into his arms. He did not care that the others looked on. “Praise the saints you are unharmed.”

  Lord Galloway swept Lady Margaret into his arms. “My love, my heart. You are safe.”