The Seduction of Miss Amelia Bell (23 page)

“I’m turnin’ into my faither,” he murmured softly. He’d suspected it for some time
now, tried to deny it. But he felt the pull of lyrics, the call of music in his blood.

“Is he that bad then?”

Darach blinked at her. “Who?”

“Yer father?”

Hell. Had he spoken loud enough for her to hear?

“He’s worse,” he answered. “He’s a poet.”

N
o one saw Darach and his two Buchanan guests enter Ravenglade since they did so from
the north, and from a tunnel beginning at least a half mile away. They entered the
castle through a secret floorboard inside a small storage room beyond the buttery,
down the hall from the kitchen. Henrietta and Amelia discovered them first, thanks
to Grendel’s low growls and scratching at the door to be let into the small room.

Amelia was quite stunned to see the three of them step into the hall from another
room thought to be sealed from the outside. She recognized William from his last visit
here and guessed the girl with him was his sister, Janet.

“What are ye doing back here and how in the world did ye get inside?” she asked Darach,
giving him a brief hug.

“Tunnels,” he told her while she followed them to the battlements where Edmund stood
watch with the others. They were all as shocked to see Darach and the Buchanans as
she was. They all listened to William explain about the tunnels. Malcolm scowled during
the entire rendition. His muttered utterings of words like “mole,” “rat,” “thievin’,”
and “bastards” brought a frown just as dark to Janet’s face, but she didn’t stare
at Malcolm overlong. No woman did if she wanted to hold on to her good senses. Edmund
appeared so relieved by the news that Amelia thought he might fling his arms around
William, and perhaps Janet, too.

“Has the duke made any other move?” Darach asked after William peered over the wall
and whistled at the amount of men below.

Edmund told them about the note attached to the duke’s arrow. He also told him in
brief detail about Amelia almost falling over the side and his being shot by her father.
“They likely believe I pushed her and then dangled her above the ground as a threat.
It has given us a bit more time, but I don’t know how much. Once they start trying
to get in, we won’t have much time.”

“What does her almost falling have to do with anything regarding the army?”

They all turned to Janet, who’d asked the question—all but Darach, who spread his
gaze over the landscape, at anything but them, and inhaled a gusty breath.

“Miss Bell is the duke’s niece,” Lucan supplied.

“We kidnapped her,” Malcolm added.

“So.” Janet’s eyes narrowed and darkened on Darach. “They have come fer her then and
not fer Ravenglade?”

“Ravenglade?” Malcolm asked, looking none too pleased with her or her brother. “The
only ones who want to try to take it from me are yer kin.”

“Hell,” Darach muttered and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he caught Amelia’s
gaze.

She smiled softly at him, understanding what he’d done.

“Not according to yer lying cousin Grant,” Janet corrected Malcolm. “Ye see, Will?”
She turned to her brother. “I told ye we shouldn’t have trusted him.”

“His intentions were not to deceive ye, Miss Buchanan.” Amelia turned to her and wondered
if the cool pewter skies had anything to do with the icy color of her eyes.

“And how d’ye know that, m’lady?” she asked Amelia, folding her arms across her chest.

“Because I know that he told ye whatever he needed to tell ye so he could find yer
tunnels and get us out. If that makes him a scoundrel to ye, then mayhap ye need a
loyal friend or two to prove ye wrong.”

Janet found Darach’s gaze and seemed to catch her breath. She returned her attention
to Amelia and answered her warm smile with one of her own. “I’m not above admitting
when I was wrong.”

“Where does it lead?” Edmund’s query drew her attention back to the men.

“About a half mile to the east, beyond the army.”

“Impressive,” Luke said.

“My kin had many long years to build it,” William told them. “’Tis more impressive
than ye can imagine.”

“’Tis,” Darach validated. “A man doesna’ have to bend his head to walk through it.”

“Show us.” Edmund clapped William on the back and then handed him over to Luke. “If
’tis safe enough, we can leave tonight. I’ll be along in a moment.”

Before he left, Edmund walked back to Darach. “Ye’ll keep watch fer a bit? Keep an
eye on Amelia while she’s up here?”

“Aye.”

“I want to see the tunnel, Edmund,” Amelia said.

“Ye will, lass,” he promised her, touching her face with the backs of her fingers.
“After I deem it safe fer ye.”

She nodded. She would see the tunnel and use it later. Nothing had changed for her
except that Edmund would be safe and she thanked God for that. But she still couldn’t
leave her father. Now, at least, she had a way to return to him. Her uncle had already
stated in his letter that the treaty would not be dissolved. There was nothing left
to be done. Would Edmund hate her for leaving him? She kept herself from crying and
tried to concentrate on what she needed to do.

Edmund turned to leave and called out to Darach over his shoulder. “Ye saved us all,
lad.”

“Aye,” Malcolm called, on his way out. “Ye’ll be needin’ an ode to yerself. Now there’s
a challenge.”

Amelia smiled through her misery and turned to Darach while the others all left the
battlements. “I like her.”

“Who?”

She slapped him on the arm. “Ye know very well who.” When he conceded with a smirk,
she shook her head at him.

“I like her, too,” he admitted. “But I dinna’ want a wife yet.”

Amelia pouted for a moment, knowing she couldn’t argue his point. He was ten and eight,
nine at the most. If he wasn’t ready, it was good that he knew it.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Janet said, reaching them. “I’ve already seen the tunnels,
but never an army.” She set her gaze beyond the moat and took in the sight, never
once glancing in Darach’s direction.

Amelia suppressed the urge to grin at them both and made her excuses to leave them.
She would tell Darach later what she thought of Miss Buchanan. What did their age
matter when there was so much charged power between them? The air smoldered and crackled
and they both fought so hard to deny it. It was silly. Darach should allow himself
the pleasure of loving one woman. Amelia would tell him that later, if she had time.

First she had to prepare for her escape. The thought of running from Edmund nearly
brought her to her knees. He wouldn’t understand why she left him. She should tell
him, but what would she say? What if he stopped her by force? What would become of
her father?

When Edmund returned from seeing the tunnels, she would retire to her room, claiming
to need a nap after such a tiring, perilous day. She would leave shortly after that.
Of course, traveling through the tunnel alone would frighten her but what else could
she do? God help her, she would never be happy with Walter. She would never be happy
with any other man but Edmund. She had tasted love. She’d been caressed by it.

Things were different now.

She had changed, but her future hadn’t.

She went to the kitchen, where Sarah and Etta were preparing supper. Sarah. The thought
of leaving her, of never seeing her dearest friend ever again, prompted more tears.
She loved Sarah more than she could ever express, and she wouldn’t express them now.
She couldn’t let herself be swayed. Sarah would have a wonderful life with Lucan.
That’s what mattered.

She reached for an apron and joined them at their task, keeping her mind off what
she needed to do.

She thought about telling Sarah her plan, but decided against it. Her friend would
try to dissuade her from going. Too many things could go wrong, but Amelia was willing
to risk it. She needed to risk it.

With her decision made, she focused on baking shortbread cakes, a favorite of any
Scotsman.

When an hour had passed, she left the kitchen without filling Sarah in on her plans.
She returned to the battlements to make certain Edmund and the others had returned
and the tunnel was clear and safe. After sharing a word with Janet, she looked out
over the army of men below. Would she be able to find her father among them, especially
with the sun going down? She would have to.

“Can we see where the tunnel will let us out from here?” she asked casually.

William gazed out, squinting against the setting sun. “Let me think.” He measured
distance with his fingers and pointed east, a good distance from the army. “Aye, I
believe there is where we will come out. ’Tis difficult to tell from here. The woods
look alike.”

“By the time the duke knows we are gone,” Edmund said, coming up behind her and closing
his arms around her waist, “we will be halfway to Skye. We need to talk about this
now, my love. Let’s go inside, aye?”

She closed her eyes, afraid that if he turned her around to look at him, she would
cling to him and never let go. How was she going to insist on leaving? Demand, if
she must, that he return her or leave her here while he escaped? He wouldn’t agree
to it and she wasn’t strong enough to resist him overlong. Could she truly leave him?
How different would her life be now that she knew love? Could she live without it?
Without him? He was her David, her giant-slayer, only he didn’t slay the giant this
time. Was the difference that this time, she was in his life? What else would befall
him if she stayed? She had to go. But if he knew, he wouldn’t let her.

“There is no need to speak of it further,” she said and dragged a breath into her
lungs to help her smile when she turned in his arms. “I love ye and I cannot leave
ye.”

His relief was evident in his shaken breath, the warmth in his eyes, the handsome
smile forming on his face.

After a kiss, he moved to return to his plans but she stopped him with a hand to his
arm. “When will we be leaving?”

“We’ll leave a wee bit before the midnight hour,” he told her. “The tunnel is tall
and wide enough for our horses to be walked out.”

“Well then”—Amelia closed her eyes and prayed to just keep breathing a little longer
when Edmund pressed a kiss to her temple—“I think I shall take a nap. I’m tired from
the day and will need rest fer the journey. Edmund.” She stopped him again when he
turned to go. “Ye gave life to my dreams. I will love ye and no other fer the rest
of my life.”

His smile faded a little and he took a step back to her.

“Edmund?” Malcolm called. “William’s agreed to bring Henrietta and Chester back to
his village until the army leaves Ravenglade. Come, more preparations need to be made.”

“Go, my love,” she urged him. “I’ll see ye after.”

She watched him leave, calling out to Darach as he left the battlements. She musn’t
think. Just do. Move before she never moved again. She hurried to the buttery. On
her way she picked up a meager candle to light her way inside the tunnel. She had
to do it quickly, before anyone saw her. Before she listened to her heart and took
her nap instead of running away.

Pulling up the floorboard, she said a quiet prayer and crawled inside. As she suspected,
it was daunting being underground, surrounded by wooden beams and dirt. Thankfully,
there were torches lit along the way, to light her path. The Buchanans had truly accomplished
an impressive feat digging out this tunnel, but she still didn’t like being in it.
She pressed forward, refusing to think about what she was leaving behind. She didn’t
hear the low whine behind her, the heavy breathing following her. She heard nothing
but the sound of her own heart beating…breaking.

E
dmund looked into the face staring back at him and adjusted its left eye. He stuffed
more hay into the Highland dummy’s plaid and buffed it up a bit. It was supposed to
be him after all, not a woman. There were eight hay figures in all, four of which
were donned in the belted plaids belonging to Edmund and his Highland cousins. None
of them minded leaving their plaids behind. They owned more at home and there were
plenty of clothes in Ravenglade to wear, left here by Connor Stuart and the men who
came after him.

Currently, Edmund wore a waistcoat, dark brown breeches, and a white ruffled shirt.
The fit wasn’t too bad, a bit tight, but Sarah whistled at him when she passed him
in the hall and Janet stared at him in the courtyard behind the curtain wall where
they dressed their dummies. Hopefully, his appearance would please Amelia as well.
He looked around the torch-lit yard for her. He hadn’t seen her in an hour and supper
was almost ready. He’d checked her room but she wasn’t there. He’d thought she might
be packing a few things or helping Etta and Sarah in the kitchen. When he hadn’t found
her, he’d come out to the courtyard and found the others making their models. He’d
decided to wait for her there.

“Has anyone seen Amelia?” he asked now, feeling a wave of sudden fear grip him at
how dark it had become. He shrugged it away. She hadn’t left the castle. Had she?
When had he last seen his dog? He wanted to laugh at the silly fear threatening to
grip him again. She was here, somewhere in the castle…doing something. Likely on her
way to him right now.

“I thought she was in the kitchen,” Malcolm said.

“She’s not,” Luke told them. “Sarah was looking fer her a wee while ago.”

Edmund remained calm and turned to Darach and Janet. They both shook their heads.
They hadn’t seen her. He didn’t run back into the castle. He wanted to, but he didn’t
want the others to believe he found her foolish enough to leave on her own. Or that
he was the fool for believing her when she told him she loved him and that she wanted
to stay with him. He made his way inside the fortress and then dashed to the kitchen
and plunged inside. She wasn’t there. The garden. He sprinted to it and entered the
cool night air.

“Amelia!” he called out into the darkness. “Grendel!”

He turned when no answer came and sprinted across the long corridor and burst through
three doorways, the last one being the one that led to the buttery.

When he saw the floorboard pushed aside, he knew. She’d gone. She’d left him, and
without even a damned farewell.

He disappeared into the hole, leaving the floorboard where it was.

Amelia stopped and leaned her palms against the wall. God help her, how long was this
tunnel? She hated it. She hated the shadows that danced along its walls and ceiling.
Twice she had to stop to close her eyes and force herself not to panic. She couldn’t
breathe. She felt like she was choking on the stale, hot air and she wanted to run
back. If it weren’t for Grendel, she would have. She spoke to him and watched him
breathing without struggle.

“I’m not going to tell ye that ye’re a good boy fer following me, Grendel, but I’m
happy ye’re here, dear friend.” She thought of how much Edmund loved this worthy dog.
She sniffed back another barrage of tears. There had been two others since she’d entered
the tunnel. The first one came thanks to Edmund and the second, Sarah. She doubted
her heart would ever mend and she would spend every night of her life weeping.

“I think I feel the slightest bit of a breeze.” She stopped and tried to concentrate
on the whiff of fresher air she was certain just wafted across her face. “I pray we’re
close. I fear going mad in this place.”

Grendel looked up at her, his dark eyes large and almost understanding. And then he
pricked his ears, turned his head to look forward, and took off.

“Grendel!” she shouted for him. She didn’t want him to leave her alone. She ran after
him, her heart pounding madly as she hurried along a crooked path cooled by the night
air. She was approaching the opening.

Thank God.

A pistol shot rang out close, stopping her dead in her tracks. Another sound followed
that fell so heavily on her heart, she would have fallen to her knees from the weight
of it if she weren’t holding on to the wall.

A dog’s cry. Grendel.

She ran toward the sound but stopped before she left the concealment of her hiding
place. A soldier stood beneath a column of pale moonlight, a smoking pistol in his
hand, and Grendel fallen at his feet.

Nae! Nae! Not Grendel! Amelia fell against the wall, and then to her knees. This couldn’t
be happening. Not to Grendel.
Oh, God, please, please not Grendel
, she prayed while the soldier shoved her beloved friend with his boot. Grendel didn’t
move. Amelia clamped her hands over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. Even
in her torment she couldn’t give away the tunnel. She couldn’t go to him. She couldn’t
run out and let them see her. The army would get inside Ravenglade and kill everyone.
She wanted to scream because this was her fault. The horrible scene before her was
her fault. There was no denying it this time. She watched along the tunnel entrance,
carefully hidden behind the thick brush and trees as more soldiers appeared, alerted
by the pistol fire.

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.