“Aye,” Angus said, soundingalltoo satisfied with the convenient unfolding of events. “Did you hear that? She said‘not exactly.’ Perhaps you should also know that she’s the future bride of Richard Bennett, England’s first and foremost executioner of Scots.”
Wonderful.
“He is not an executioner,” she tried to explain, needing to defend him. Or perhaps it was herself, and her choice of a husband, that she needed to defend. Either way, it did not matter. She’d just implicated herself and confirmed Angus’s accusations—that she was an enemy of Scotland, and the Butcher’s enemy aswell.
“You didn’t know that, did you?” Angus added, wrenching Craig roughly in his stranglehold.
“This woman is engaged to that swine?” Craig asked in a dry, gurgling voice.
Meanwhile, Beth said nothing.
Angus immediately released Craig, and hefellto his knees, gasping for breath.
“Aye,” Angus said. “It’s good to know which side of the border your swordfalls on, crofter. What’s your name?”
“Craig MacKenzie,” he replied, rising unsteadily to his feet.
Beth’s father relaxed and spoke in a more welcoming tone. “You’re the MacDonald, aren’t you? The one who survived Glencoe?”
Angus glanced dispassionately at Amelia and nodded.
The old man shared a long, meaningful look with him. “Get this brave lad a drink, Beth, and make it the best we have.
Get the bottle of Moncrieffe whisky out of the mahogany chest.”
Angus raised a smug eyebrow at Duncan, who at last lowered his pistol, released the hammer, and slipped it into his belt.
Amelia backed up in uneasy silence while Beth hurried into the back room. She returned with a bottle, retrieved four crystal glasses from her cupboard, and poured a drink for each kilted man. No one said a word. They strode forward, converging together around the table, picked up their drinks, and flicked them back in a single gulp.allfour glasses hit the table at once.
“Another, Beth,” Craig said.
She poured seconds, and the ritual was repeated; then each man slowly backed away to his respective corner.
Before he sat back down on the bed, however, Duncan paused a moment to stare questioningly at Amelia. Their gazes locked and held until he took a seat and rested his elbows on his knees.
Angus moved to the fire and warmed his hands while Craig rubbed at his neck,rollinghis shoulders to work out the tension.
Beth’s father sat down in his chair, nodding with pride and satisfaction. He was pleased to have the Butcher and one of his rebels in his home. “If you lads need supplies for your travels,” he said, “whatever we have is yours for the taking.”
Stillstanding over the fire, Angus acknowledged the offer with gratitude.
Duncan turned his questioning eyes toward Amelia again.
She quickly shook her head at him, hoping to communicate that none of it was true. She was English, yes, and she was engaged to Richard Bennett, but she had brought him here to save his life—and for reasons she was not yet ready to explore, she needed him to know that.
“How’d you find this place?” he asked her.
“I heard farm animals and ran through the woods. Youcollapsedin the glade where we stopped. Do you remember? I didn’t know what else to do.”
“So you ran here, fetched help, then came back for me?”
“Yes. Mr. MacKenzie hitched up his wagon and I showed him where you were.”
Theyalllooked at Craig, who confirmed her story with a nod.
She noticed Angus looking over his shoulder at her, glaring with deep, smoldering hatred. Hestilldid not trust her, and she did not believe it was possible to ever change that.
“It’s the truth,” Beth said. “That’s what happened. And there are no English soldiers on their way, at least not that we know of.allshe wanted was help in tending to her Highlander.”
