“Aye.”
“How would you know about that?”
He laughed at her. “Highlanders talk to each other, lass, and so do the clans. We don’talllive in caves, and we’re notall illiterate brutes.”
She faced forward in the saddle again. “No, of course not.
My father spoke very highly of the Earl of Moncrieffe, who was a Highlander, like you. He said he was a passionatecollectorof Italian art, and described him as a harsh but fair man. He said his home was like a palace.” She turned in the saddle again. “Haveyouever met the earl?”
“Aye,” the Butcher replied. “But things aren’t as simple as you think. Here in Scotland, nothing is black and white. Your father might have judged the earl to be fair and civilized—agentleman,according to your lofty definitions—but because he negotiates with the English and keeps his garden clipped and manicured like a puffed-up English estate, he has his share of enemies. Many Scots—the ones who want to fight for a Stuart king—view him as a coward and a traitor. They believe he only seeks to increase his landholdings, and there is likely some truth in that.”
“What doyoubelieve?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I believe every man has his reasons for doing what he does, for choosing one path, and not another. And no one can know what truly lives in another man’s heart. You can judge himallyou want from afar, but you’llnever know why he does what he does, unless he trusts you enough to let you know it.”
“So you don’t think Moncrieffe is a traitor to Scotland? You think he has valid reasons to negotiate with the English?”
“I did not say that.”
“So you don’t real y know the earl. Not like that.”
He said nothing for a long time while the horse plodded through the clearing. “I don’t think anyone real y knows him.”
And does anyone really know you?she wondered suddenly.
“Let’s rest for a bit,” he said.
They reached ashallowburn, and the Butcher steered his horse to where the water ran fast and clear. He waited until Turner finished drinking before he dismounted, then held his arms out to Amelia. She hesitated before accepting his assistance.
“Don’t be stubborn, lass.”
“I am not being stubborn.”
“Then put your hands on me. I won’t eat you alive, norwillI be overcome by my savage desire to deflower you.”
Reluctantly, she laid her hands on the tops of his broad shoulders and slid smoothly down the solid mass of his body until her feet touched the ground. She stood for a few seconds, looking up at his face—al sharp planes and perfect angles. His lips werefulland soft, and his eyes glimmered with unusual flecks of silver she hadn’t noticed before.
“I don’t suppose you ever rode astride with your beloved?”
Duncan asked, his handsstillresting on her hips.
She took a hasty step back, unnerved by his flirtatious tone. “Of course not. As I said, Richard is a gentleman. He would never suggest such a thing.” She watched the Butcher tug the saddlebags from the back of the horse. “I wish you would believe me about that.”
Hepulleda jug of wine and some bread from the leather bag and sat down on afallen log next to a weepingwillow.
“At least you’re loyal.”
“I have good reason to be, and I’llnot stop working to convince you of that.”
Her captor used his teeth topullthe cork out of the jug, then turned his head to the side and spit it out. “So that I’lllet you go?”
“So that youwillstop hunting Richard,” she clarified, watching him drink. “He is a good man, Duncan. He saved my father’s life.”
It was the first time she’d used the Butcher’s given name, and it did not go unnoticed. Something flickered in his eyes, and he frowned. “This discussion is beginning to grate on my nerves.”
He tipped the jug of wine back and guzzled deeply, then wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. His expression burned with something wild and angry as he held the wine out for her to take. He stared at her, waiting.
After a moment, she reached for the jug. The stoneware was cold in her hands. She meant to take only asmallsip, but when thefull-bodied Scottish wine flowed over her lips and tongue she realized just how terribly thirsty she was and gave in to gulping and guzzling, just as he had done.
