Agnes patted her daughter’s knee. “Give yourself peace, hen,” she said fondly. “There is no harm done, and we are all friends again.”
More than friends,Emilia thought, and a thrill went through her body. She dared not look at Adam in case she gave herself away.
Eventually Adam stood up. “I need to be going,” he announced. “Trojan’s leg needs attention.” He bowed to the ladies and kissed their hands, then shook hands with Father Gordon, who still looked rather flushed and uncomfortable.
“I will contact you with any news,” he informed them. “Goodbye.”
Emilia watched his powerful figure go outside and she longed to follow after him. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and kiss him, and feel his warm, soft lips against hers. She wanted to lie beside him, snuggle up to him, go to sleep in his embrace, and wake up in the morning to look into his deep blue eyes. She had never been in love and had nothing against which to compare this warm sweet longing. Emilia had never experienced anything like it before, but she knew that she wanted more, and more of what they had shared the previous evening.
Just then, she realized that her mother was speaking, and she shook herself out of her reverie.
“Yes, Mammy?” she asked. “You were saying?”
“What did he say about helping us?” Agnes asked urgently.
“He is on our side,” she replied. “I begged him to try to get some armed men to help us, and he said that he would try. But I know that he has come to love the Highlands, and he wants to help us, so I know he will do his best to get men somehow.”
“That is a relief!” Agnes breathed. “What did you do to get his help?” She looked fearful.
Emilia laughed. “Tears, mostly, and laughter too,” she replied. “He is a good man, Mammy, and he never treated me with anything but the utmost kindness and courtesy.”
“I am glad to hear it, Emmy.” Agnes smiled. “I hope we will hear from him again soon.”
“Yes, time is running out,” Father Gordon said with a deep sigh. “I know that God tells us not to despair, but sometimes I find it very difficult.”
“We all do, Father.” Emilia rose and patted his shoulder. “But somehow I think we will succeed.”
Adam was confused. His body had responded the way any normal man’s would to a beautiful woman, and although he had not come to fulfillment, he was still satisfied in a way that he had never felt before. He had lain with scores of women, but none had ever made an impression on him as this one had. He could not stop thinking about her, and it was driving him mad.
He turned his thoughts to more important things with a considerable effort of will. Laird McElwee would want an answer soon. He would not wait forever, and by all accounts he was not a patient man at any time. Then several things occurred to him at once. Where was the gold his uncle had promised? Even Malcolm’s trusted friend Father Gordon did not seem to know.
Perhaps it had been the last ravings of an old man on his deathbed, but what if it was true? It would be the answer to all his problems, since he could then hire an army to defend the town, build walls, and even buy armaments. He had no doubt that one reason—the main one—was that Laird McElwee wanted Inverinch Castle because of the gold. But if he were the kind of man everyone said he was, his true need and desire was not for gold alone, but for power and control.
He went straight to his bedchamber and found a letter on his table.
Dear Adam,
I have heard nothing from you regarding the kind proposal I made to you concerning the sale of the estate. Am I to assume from this that you are not interested in my plan, and you are confident that you can protect the people from a possible attack from another clan that, unlike mine, is not friendly?
Please reply as soon as you can and let me know what you have decided to do. The more time passes and you do not let me help you, the more the danger grows for your people.
With good wishes,
Laird Robert McElwee
Adam looked at the letter and felt his heart sink into his boots. Maybe a Scot would have doubts about this letter but any Englishman, even less clever than Adam, would have none. That was a threat. The offer was not an offer but a deadline. Adam understood politics very well and he had heard about so many incidents like this back home. If he did not give the Lairdship to McElwee, he would take it himself.
He had seen McElwee’s estate from a distance. The walls were higher than Inverinch, and although the gate was not so strong, the castle was bristling with guards. The villagers had nothing more than farm implements to use against them.
He sat down and poured himself a large goblet of whisky. He had to think.
11
Adam was short of everything, but most of all he needed time to plan and act, so he composed a letter to Robert McElwee asking for more time while trying not to sound too desperate.
M’Laird McElwee,
Thank you for your letter, however, as you know, news travels very slowly. I was told that my uncle has left gold for me. But it is hidden, as you can imagine. Therefore, I am trying to retrieve it. I am sure it will help us rebuild the clan.
