The Seduction of Miss Amelia Bell (14 page)

E
nnis Buchanan, fifth cousin removed from the notorious James Buchanan, who once held
court over Ravenglade and almost single-handedly ended the Stuart reign, trotted onward,
toward Edinburgh. It didn’t matter that he didn’t own a horse to get him to his destination
more quickly; soon he would have more gold than all his clan put together.

He laughed to himself at his good fortune. Imagine, the Duke of Queensberry’s niece
at Ravenglade, kidnapped by a MacGregor. Bastard outlaws. If he’d had a pistol he
would have shot the miscreant who flung his dagger at poor George in Ravenglade’s
garden. He and George had gone to Ravenglade that night to finally kill Malcolm Grant,
heir to the castle the Buchanans had wanted for so long. His clan had lost a lot of
men upon Grant’s return a few days ago and Ennis and George sought restitution. It
wasn’t difficult to get inside Ravenglade’s fortified walls. Unbeknownst to the Grants,
Ennis’s kin had dug tunnels beneath the shallow moat, behind the castle, long ago.

His feet hurt. He’d been walking for almost two days now. He could have made it to
the city sooner, but he’d stopped to sleep and then to eat, and then for a bit of
sport in the bed of a widow who had agreed to give him water as he passed through
her village. He wondered what the duke would pay him for the return of his niece.
He also wondered what the duke would think of his niece kissing a MacGregor. Heads
were going to roll—MacGregor heads, and hopefully Malcolm Grant’s.

He would be in Edinburgh tonight. By tomorrow, he’d be a rich man and holding court
over Ravenglade castle. He began to sing while he strolled and looked up at the afternoon
clouds. His luck couldn’t get any better than this.

He heard a sound that gave his steps pause. A low deep-throated growl. He stopped
singing and looked around. He saw no one and picked up his pace. Odd how the hairs
on the back of his neck were standing straight up. It was as if he’d just walked over
his own grave. He moved a bit faster, humming to keep his mind off the unnatural feeling
of being followed. Leaves rustled to his right, nearly scaring him out of his skin.

“Who’s there?”

The low-pitched growl again. It was terrifying to hear, like that of some hellhound
come to exact punishment for his sins.

Ennis plucked a stick from the ground and held it up. “Come out!” he shouted in the
direction of the tree line. “Before I…”

His meager threat was swept away with the breeze as something moved out of the shadows
and into the sunshine. Ennis wanted to scream. What manner of beast was it? Fur as
black as the devil’s musings covered the enormous beast. Ennis recalled tales of wolves
that were men at one time. He couldn’t remember what they were called. Terror gripped
him.

“What do ye want?” he shouted, holding up the stick as if to strike.

The creature settled low on its muscular haunches and skulked closer.

“Leave me alone!”

Ennis swung at the air and then turned to run for his life. He screamed as fangs sank
into the back of his calf. He went down. The beast backed up and waited for him to
rise up and run again. For the first time in his life, Ennis Buchanan began to cry.

Amelia opened her eyes and cringed when she straightened her neck. Sleeping in a chair
for three nights was beginning to take its toll.

“Amelia, I think the fever has broken.”

Her sleepy eyes widened on Edmund standing over Lucan’s bed. He hadn’t left her. Not
for a moment. She sprang from her chair, the one placed beside its twin, where Edmund
had slept when his shifts were done. When she reached the bed, Edmund smiled at her
and she shared his satisfaction that they had done this thing. They had done it together.

Did she dare share his relief so soon? She looked down at the bed, and then she moved
closer to it. Lucan’s bedcovers were soaked. His color had returned, his breathing
slowed. First she reached her fingertips to his face, then the back of her hand.

“He’s cool.” Her smile widened as she turned and set it on Edmund. “He will be fine.”

All it took was the slant of his grin to make her leap into his arms. He held her,
his face pressed into her neck, silent with her, thanking God with her, basking in
their relief. She thought that being with him under such trying conditions would have
distracted her from everything she found so enticing about him. But she was wrong.
Whenever she looked up and found him tending to his cousin, dedicating his time and
his patience to Lucan’s well-being, he grew even more attractive to her, if that was
possible.

“We’ll tell the others soon.” He withdrew with heavy lids and the evidence of weariness
thickening his voice. “Let us just take some moments alone without a dozen tasks on
our minds now that ’tis over, aye?”

Amelia nodded and walked with him to the window. Dawn was just about to break over
Ravenglade. She realized in that moment that Edmund had been the first thing she saw
every time she opened her eyes each morning since the day they met.

She waited while he sat on the ledge of the alcoved window and took her hands to pull
her in closer before she spoke. “I’m growing quite accustomed to waking up around
ye, Edmund.”

He arched a brow at her and swept his sultry grin over her face. “As am I to yer beautiful,
slumberous eyes when ye open them.”

She laughed with him, unsure of what they found humorous and not caring. His gaze
narrowed and she thought he might say something. He paused, then let his eyes dip
to her mouth. “Ye move yer lips when ye dream.”

“I do?”

“Aye.” He edged her closer between his knees. “Ye do. Like ye’re about to form a word,
or blow out a candle. ’Tis most disarming. The new day beckons from the window, tempting
me to gaze toward the north and the jagged landscape of my home. But I would rather
look at ye.”

Oh, was he so clever as to spin beautiful words around her like a web? If he wanted
to capture her, he’d done it every time she watched him tending to Lucan. She didn’t
think about Walter or the fact that Edmund had kidnapped her, or anything at all.
Those thoughts were obstacles to happiness. And she wanted to be happy. Even if it
was temporary. She’d decided that this time was hers and she would enjoy it fully
and with abandon.

“I don’t recall my dreams,” she told him softly, boldly inching toward his mouth.
“But I was likely dreaming of ye. Perhaps of kissing ye.” She puckered her lips the
way he said she did when she slept.

He laughed softly against the seam of her mouth, then took it with more possession.
Nothing Sarah had ever told her could compare with Edmund’s kiss, or to the sensual
flame of his tongue. He caressed her, claimed her with such exquisite care she went
weak against him. The warmth of his lips, the tenderness in his hands while he tasted
her, touched her face, her shoulders, her breasts, made her ache and grow wet and
slick between her thighs. She knew, thanks to Sarah’s instruction, that her body was
readying to take him. The thought of it both terrified her and made her burn to cinders.
She wasn’t shameless, but she had to fight the mad urge to tear away his plaid, stand
him before her, and take in every inch of him before she climbed up all that muscle
and begged him to drive himself into her.

Thankfully, someone knocked at the door.

Amelia broke away and was in the middle of straightening her gown and praying for
her body to stop tingling when Malcolm charged into the room.

“Edmund—”

Malcolm stopped, took a better look at her, then cast her a knowing smile that made
her go crimson.

“Darach’s gone,” he continued. “He’s gone to Skye to fetch Isobel and her herbs.”

“What?” Amelia asked, stunned and a little stung by the news. He’d had no faith in
them. “He left? How do ye know?”

“He woke Sarah before he left and asked her to tell us after he’d gone. He didna’
want to be stopped. No’ that I woulda’ stopped him. Nae offense to ye, lass,” Malcolm
offered, but the look in his eyes told her he didn’t care if she understood or not,
he would say what he had to say. “But Isobel MacGregor can just aboot bring the dead
back to life. We dinna’ want to take a risk, even the smallest one, and lose Luke.”

He was correct, of course. These men loved one another. They would stop at nothing
to keep the rest safe, as it should be.

“I just worry that Darach is alone,” she told him in a softer voice.

“Dinna’ be. Bein’ alone is no’ an issue fer the lad. Now”—he moved past her and the
scent of Sarah’s soap rushed through Amelia’s nostrils—“how is he?”

“He’s going to make it,” Edmund told him, coming to stand beside him. “His fever broke
earlier.”

“Och, hell, that’s good news.” Malcolm sat on the edge of the bed and let his tense
shoulders relax. He was silent for a while, just staring at Lucan, then he looked
up at Amelia. “Ye have my gratitude, lass. I’ll tell the rest of our kin of this.”

“I couldn’t have done it without Edmund’s aid.”

“Aye.” Malcolm rose to his feet and took Edmund by the shoulders. “Edmund, ye’re a
good man. Too good to spend yer time aroond the likes of me.”

“Och, hell.” Edmund gave him a detestable look, then shoved him away. “Stop being
a lass.”

Malcolm adjusted his plaid and cast his cousin a sleek smirk. “Come to the lists and
I’ll show ye what a lass I am. We havena’ practiced in weeks. Ye’re gettin’ soft.”

“Give me a few hours to sleep and I’ll be there,” Edmund promised. “Ye need to be
reminded who the better fighter is between us.”

“I havena’ fergotten. ’Tis Luke, but he’s oot of the lists fer another se’nnight at
least.”

“Longer than that,” Amelia told them. “And don’t either of ye tempt him or lure him
out of bed sooner or ye will suffer my wrath.”

She knew Edmund’s eyes were on her. She could feel them, alit, tender, captivated…amused.
God help her, but loving an outlawed Highlander would likely send her mother to an
early grave. Not to mention what it would do to her father.

A dog barked outside the window and all at once, Edmund and Amelia rushed to the ledge.

“Grendel!” Edmund shouted, elated at his friend’s safe return. “Get yer arse up here!”
And annoyed that the beast had worried him.

“’Tis a dog,” Malcolm murmured as Edmund swept by him heading for the door.

Amelia hopped in place and stifled what would likely have sounded like a squeal when
Edmund hauled back his arm and punched Malcolm in the guts, doubling him over.

“How many times do I have to tell ye? He’s more than a dog to me.”

T
he next two days were without a doubt the most wonderful in Amelia’s life. She didn’t
fear or fight her attraction to Edmund. She knew deep down that she could never marry
him, not while he fought against everything her family supported. Sadly, there were
too many obstacles. She wouldn’t lie to herself, pretending a happy ending with him.
She would enjoy every moment with him before they walked away from each other when
the time came.

She thought caring for him would be easy. But she’d never had genuine feelings for
any man before, nor had Sarah, her teacher. She couldn’t possibly know what she was
getting herself into.

Amelia didn’t care. There would be time enough with her mother later. Millicent Bell
didn’t understand passion because all she cared about was power and money. In that,
she was very much like her brother. She loved her expensive statues, her servants,
her jewels, more than she ever cared for her husband. Amelia would trudge through
her mother’s complaints about her the same way she did whenever she got caught spending
her leisure time with Sarah. She did what she wanted.

Call her rebellious. She didn’t care about that either.

The enjoyment she felt from spending time with Edmund was worth risking anything for.
The best and most amazing thing of all, though, was that her season of misfortune
seemed to have finally ended. In fact, things were beginning to go her way for the
first time in her life. Her and Edmund’s dedication to Lucan proved lifesaving. The
giant Highlander was growing stronger every day, determined to rise out of bed as
quickly as possible. She hadn’t spilled hot water on herself, her patient, her helper,
or the dog. Miraculous. The work she started on the garden with Sarah was coming along
nicely and without a single prick to either of their bodies. She hadn’t set fire to
herself or anyone else, and twice she avoided tripping over her gown and tumbling
down the stairs.

Who would have imagined that it would take her being kidnapped for things to start
looking up? She wished Alice, her nursemaid, were here so she could rejoice with her.
She could hear Alice’s voice now,
I told ye yer season would end, sweeting
. Och, she missed Alice.

“D’ye realize how often ye smile?”

She looked up from trying to uproot the dead roots of a currant bush and squinted
at Edmund. My, but he looked especially good all golden and dripping in sunlight.
“Frowning creates deeper lines in the face.”

He laughed and bent to take hold of the bush. “Ye didn’t strike me as a vain woman.”

“Ye should have examined me closer before ye took me,” she teased, happy to be here,
working under the sun with Sarah, watching him tugging at the root. He was incredibly
graceful with supple, sinewy muscle rippling beneath his shirt. “I own at least one
hundred gowns.” She fought to master the uneven measure of her breath. Sarah would
immediately sense any rapid changes. Passion was hard to conceal. “Isn’t that correct,
Sarah?”

“Aye,” her friend agreed on the other side of a tangle of branches she was pruning.
“But ye gave me more than fifty of them, so ye don’t have a hundred anymore.”

“Well then,” Amelia said, moving on to the next dead root. “Tell Edmund of my terrible
tantrums when I don’t have my way. He seems to be convinced that I am some joyful
cherub sent to brighten his days.” She glanced up and cast him a fleeting smile she
couldn’t resist giving him.

Sarah thought it over, hacking away at a branch. “I don’t know if stiffenin’ yer spine,
stompin’ yer foot, and boldly defyin’ yer mother and uncle could be considered terrible
tantrums, but about brightenin’ his day, he’d be the first to think so.”

“True.” Amelia stopped what she was doing and rested her hands on her lap. “Perhaps
I should accept his assessment, since he is the only one who has ever made it.”

“I’ve many more if ye care to hear them.”

She turned to him and found him crouched beside her and smiling. “Many more assessments?”
When he nodded, she beamed. “Aye, I’d like to hear them.”

“All right.” He shifted on his haunches and thought about it. “Ye’re the perfect combination
of innocence and mischievousness. I haven’t yet concluded if ye’re truly unaware of
the effect of yer charms or if ye just use it all to the best of yer advantage.”

“To what purpose would I use it?” she asked him, wide eyed with surprise that he actually
believed such a thing about her. “To persuade a man that I am worth the catastrophes
that will befall him once he decides to court me?”

“No catastrophe has befallen me,” he pointed out.

She shrugged and returned to her work. “Ye are not courting me.”

“Och, fer heaven’s sakes!” Sarah threw down her pruning knife and gave them both the
same incredulous look. “Amelia, not only is he courtin’ ye, but he kisses ye more
than some married people do! And don’t give me that stunned look. Everyone here, including
Henrietta and Chester, the steward, knows about the two of ye. Why they—”

“What do ye mean?” Amelia threw her hands to her chest, sprinkling her bosom with
soil. “What does everyone know about us?”

“That ye’re both fond of each other!” Sarah shook her head with impatience. “Honestly,
Amelia, I’m beginnin’ to understand Edmund’s confusion about yer innocence.”

Amelia’s mouth fell open. This couldn’t be Sarah speaking. Sarah knew her better than
anyone.

“At least,” she retorted, angry in an instant at her best friend’s words, “I’m not
running away, hiding in fear, from the one man who treats me kindly. Ye’re so used
to being treated like an unimportant servant, even in bed, that ye don’t know what
to do or how to act with a man who is interested in ye fer more than just yer—”

“Amelia!”

“I’m incorrect, Sarah?” Amelia forged on, happy now to finally get this off her chest.
“Edmund and I stayed with Lucan day in and day out until he recovered while ye were
nowhere to be found. Ye didn’t so much as ask about him! And now that he’s awake,
have ye visited him once? No! All ye do is trudge around here looking miserable. I
told ye that Lucan asks fer ye and ye don’t seem to care. And why not? Because he
frightens ye. Ye’re so terrified of feeling anything that ye would rather run away
and be unhappy.”

“Are ye quite done?” Sarah demanded. She didn’t wait for Amelia to answer. “Of course
I cared if he lived or died. He is a good man. Honestly, Amelia, it pierces my heart
that ye would think such a heartless thing about me.”

Amelia closed her eyes. She’d gone too far. She felt terrible. “Sarah, I—”

But her friend cut her off with an outstretched palm. “Please, hear what I have to
say as I listened to ye. Aye, he frightens me and I don’t care if Edmund knows it.”
She glared at him but his gaze on her remained soft. “But I’m not afraid of feelin’,
Amelia. I love ye, don’t I? We are sisters. We’ve done almost everything together
and shared all our hopes, our dreams, our fears with each other, but my dear, ye are
not a servant. I’m quite at ease with my life. I do as I please and answer only to
yer family. I’m not fool enough to believe that men like Lucan MacGregor would have
anything to do with me outside of his bed. Those dreams are fer children, Amelia.
They are not fer me. I would rather never love a man than give him my heart and have
it torn to pieces.”

Amelia swiped the tears from her eyes, repentant that she had brought up such a tender
topic. “Lucan would not tear yer heart to pieces, Sarah.”

“How do ye know that, Amelia? Ye don’t know what he’s capable of doin’. What if he
takes hold of my heart and I…” She didn’t finish but turned to leave the garden.

“Sarah,” Edmund called out after her, halting her steps. “I know what he’s capable
of doing. If he wins yer heart, he will treat it with care and compassion.”

She didn’t turn to him to acknowledge what he said. She picked up her steps after
another moment and left the garden.

Amelia felt awful. She wiped her hands and rose to her feet. Edmund stopped her from
following after her friend. “Let her figure out what is best fer her.”

“What if she doesn’t know? I don’t know what’s best fer me. How can I trust that she
knows what’s best fer her?”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her teary eyes. “She’ll figure it out, lass.
And so will ye.”

She pushed away from him. “I don’t know if I will, Edmund. I don’t know what to do
about Walter.”

His eyes went a bit darker but he looked away and Amelia couldn’t be certain. “D’ye
love him, Amelia?”

“No,” she admitted softly. “But that never had anything to do with it. Because of
my mother’s insistence that we live in Queensberry House, my poor father has had to
bite his tongue while he grows deeper and deeper in debt to my uncle. He did his best
trying to find good husbands for my sisters and me. Men who would add respect to my
father’s name. Is that so terrible?”

“Well,” Edmund told her, reminding her of his last encounter with Eleanor’s husband,
Bedford. “When those men require dutiful wives who never give voice to their own opinions,
then I would call it less than ideal. Is that what ye want fer yerself?”

“No,” she assured him, twisting her skirts. He didn’t understand and she didn’t know
how to help him. “But don’t ye see? My father had very little before he wed my mother,
and everything we have now, we have because of my uncle’s grace.”

“So ye’re going to marry the chancellor because it will benefit yer father.”

He sounded annoyed. But why should he be? Surely he didn’t think they could stay together.
They came from different worlds. He was indebted to Scotland and to his kin, giving
him cause to hate her family and their allegiance to England. She was beholden to
her father, dedicated to easing his life. Marrying the chancellor would replace the
shame she brought to her father’s name with status. Marrying a MacGregor would do
the opposite. Of course, each day that she spent with Edmund made her realize more
and more just how miserable she was going to be with Walter. Oh, but the day had started
out so nicely. When had it gone so wrong?

“Edmund, there is no future fer us. Surely ye know that. There are too many obstacles
in the way, like duty and family, and—”

“Aye, I know,” he answered quietly, halting her words.

He knew. He didn’t deny it then. Oh, what did she expect him to do? To say? Even if
he wanted to fight for her, she couldn’t destroy her father. She simply couldn’t.

“And let us not forget my misfortune,” she continued, more to convince herself than
him. “Walter was the only man willing to overlook it.”

He gave her comment the scowl it deserved. Then his gaze lowered, as did his voice.
“Ye have thought of everything, then. What is there left fer us?”

What was left? Everything! Why was she saying all the wrong things today? Why were
the two people she cared about forbidden? When he moved to turn away and leave her
as Sarah had, she stopped him, taking hold of his arm. Forbidden had never stopped
her before. She wouldn’t let it now.

He turned and she looked up into his despairing gaze.

Did he care for her?

She reached her hand up to his face and watched his lids close as she touched him.
“There is something between us, Edmund. It draws me to ye even when every thought
in my head is shouting to keep my distance fer our hearts’ sake. It tempts me to beg
God that if this is a dream and I am still asleep at
David
’s feet in my uncle’s garden, never let me wake. I don’t want to contemplate my life.
I want to live it.”

She spread her thumb over his enticing mouth and inched closer toward it. “And all
the pleasures of it. With ye. I know none of them and I want to learn with ye.”

He pulled her in the rest of the way and covered her mouth with a hot, hungry kiss.
She answered, rising up on the tips of her toes and plunging her fingers into his
locks, then pulling him down to answer her passion. She felt engulfed in flames. Her
nipples burned, as did the crux between her legs. Her lungs, too, so she didn’t waste
any breath speaking, except to say, “Take me inside.”