She was not squatting, as she’d imagined she would have to do. She was quite comfortable, in fact, despite her stiff muscles and numerous anxieties. She could not deny that the tender rabbit meat was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
Duncan was the first to finish eating. He rose to his feet and tossed his plate and cup into a cauldron of hot water over the fire.
“I’lltake the first watch.” Hepulledhis sword from the scabbard with a wide, sweeping arc and left the fireside.
Amelia stopped chewing and watched him go. She wasstilltrying to make sense of what had happened between them earlier, and why he had kissed her when he seemed to despise everything she stood for and thought her a fool for agreeing to marry Richard Bennett.
What surprised her most, perhaps, was how gentle he had been in that moment, which contradicted everything she knew and thought about him. She could not have been mistaken about the compassion she saw in his eyes, and she was grateful for that.
Returning her attention to the others, she found herself suddenly caught in the ice storm of Angus’s frigid gaze. He had finished his meal and was leaning back on an elbow, cleaning his teeth with asmallbone.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” she said, summoning every shred of courtesy she possessed just to get the words out.
He frowned at her, then rose to his feet. “I did not ask for your condolences, woman, so you’d best keep your thoughts to yourself.”
Like Duncan, hepulledhis broadsword from the scabbard with an audible scrape of metal against leather, then stalked off in the opposite direction. Thechillof the dark Highland night surrounded her like a cold fog.
“Pay him no mind, milady,” Gawyn said. “He’s just not over it yet.”
“You mean his sister,” she replied.
“Aye.”
She finished her meal and set the plate aside. “No, I cannot imagine one would ever get over such a thing. What was her name again?”
“Muira.”
Amelia turned her gaze in the other direction to the place where Duncan had gone. He was watching them from a rocky outcropping above.
«Willhe come back beforenightfall?” she asked.
“Hard to say,” Gawyn replied. “He spends a lot of time alone these days.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s not over Muira’s death, either.”
Something shuddered inside Amelia as she digested the obvious suggestion that Duncan been involved with Muira, perhaps in love with her.
That would explain a great deal, she thought with a disturbing pang of discomfort when she imagined him loving a woman so deeply and devotedly that he wascompelledto avenge her death bykillingthe man responsible.
Amelia’s very own fiancé.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate on the simple task of wetting her lips while she watched Duncan on the outcropping above.
Almost instantly she chastised herself for caring one way or another about the circumstances of his life or his romantic involvements in the past. He was her captor and her enemy, and the fact that he’d kissed her and been understanding about her feelings changed nothing. It was a single moment that should not obliterateallthe others.
She could not afford to become distracted by an attraction to him, no matter how confusing it was. She had to remain focused on survival and escape.
She took another sip of her wine and did not permit herself to look in his direction again.
Chapter Six
“I’m sorry, Lady Amelia,” Gawyn said, “but Duncan says I have to bind your wrists for the night.”
“You’re going to tie me up again?” she asked. “Is that real y necessary?” Her chafe wounds were only just beginning to heal.
“He says it’s for your own good, because if you tried to run off you’d get lost and might get into trouble.”
