“I told them you were my husband,” she explained to Duncan.
Again he touched the salve that was packed on his head and winced slightly. “I am indebted to you,” he said to the MacKenzies.
“It was the least we could do,” Craig replied. “And you owe us no debt, friend. If anything, we are beholden to you, for what you do for Scotland.”
Amelia observed that Duncan, in typical fashion, gave no response, and from that she surmised that fame and adulation meant nothing to him. He had his reasons for doing what he did—they were personal and private—and judging by what she’d seen of him these past few days, she was growing more and more certain that he took no pleasure in thekilling. There was no joy, nor was it a simple, mindless frenzy of butchery.
That fact would come as a surprise to many people, no doubt. Most of the English population believed him to be a bloodthirsty savage, who attacked and slaughtered for the pure amusement of thekill. She had thought so herself.
Before today.
“So is it true,” the weathered old Highlander said to Amelia, “that you laid the great Butcher out, flat on his back, with naught but a rock in your hand? A delicate, wee lass like yourself?” He raised his wine goblet in a playful salute. “I’d wager more than a few Englishmen would be impressed by that feat.”
Everyone chuckled, with the exception of Angus.
“This one is no delicate, wee lass,” Duncan told them, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “And I promise you, I’llthink twice about rubbing up against her again, especial y in the dark. And I’d give the same advice to any man here who dares to try. She’llnot yield to what she does not want, so you best keep your hands to yourselves, lads, or she’llbe bashing your brains out before you can blink twice.”
Everyone laughed, but a hushfellover the room when Angus interjected, “There’s nothing funny about it. She was trying to reach the English camp at Loch Fannich, and she told them where we were. She’d just as soon see usalllocked up in the Tolbooth as sit here and drink our fine Scottish whisky.”
Everyone looked at her.
“That wasbefore,” she tried to explain. “Before I knew the kinds of men I had chanced upon.”
She wasstillso very disturbed and shaken by the idea that everything she had previously believed about Scottish savages and English soldiers had been turned upside down.
Why hadn’t her father prepared her for any of this? How could he have raised her to believe that the world was black and white? That there was good and there was evil and England was incontestably good?
“Aye,” Craig said, seeming to understand the deeper undercurrent of her words. “A red jacket with brass buttons and a pair of shiny black boots does not make a man worthy of your trust, nor does it give him honor.”
“I know that now,” she replied, dropping her gaze to her lap. “And I won’t forget what I learned.”
“That’s wise of you,” Beth added helpful y. “You can’t judge a man’s honor by the uniform he wears. That’s just linen and wool. But to be fair, I’ve come upon my fair share of decent Englishmen in the past, aswellas dishonest Highlanders who would rob you blind the minute you turned your back.
The tide moves both ways, and don’t you forget it.” She reached for her goblet of wine and took a sip.
“So what are you doing with this haughty English lass?”
the old man asked Duncan. “Is it safe to assume you mean to use her to get to Bennett?”
“Aye,” Duncan answered. “And I’d be grateful if you spread the word. I want him to know I have his woman, and that I’m stalking him straight tohell, to ensure justice is served.”
Amelia trembled at Duncan’s choice of words and could not help but think of Richard, whom she’d always believed was simply doing his duty in this rebel ion. She’d always imagined him taking part in organized battles on an open field, but clearly—after what happened tonight—she had to accept that notallEnglish soldiers were as noble as she’d imagined and it was quite possible that Richard had done some terrible things.
Craig lounged back in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “He already knows you’re stalking him, which is why you haven’t been able to catch him. He does his best to hide from you.”
“He’s a bluidy coward,” Angus said in a low, bitter voice.
“You’llget no argument about that in this house,” the old man said. “And you should both know that Bennett passed through Invershiel yesterday and he was on his way to Moncrieffe Castle to talk to the earl.”
“The earl?” Amelia asked, feeling her hopes rekindle. “Are we on Moncrieffe lands now?”
It was difficult to imagine a lavish palace anywhere in the vicinity, with manicured gardens and servants and a finecollectionof rare books and Italian art. Surely if she could reach the castle, the earl would remember her father and reunite her with her uncle.
“No, lass,” Duncan said in a firm voice. “The earl is a MacLean, and we’re on MacKenzie lands now.”
“And thank God for that,” Beth’s father said. “That dirty MacLean is a bastard son of a whore and a traitor to Scotland. His father wouldrollover in his grave if he knew what his son had become. Mark my words, that faithless Scotwillget what’s coming to him.”
“But what has he done to earn such anappallingreputation?” Amelia asked. Everyone shot angry looks at her, so she hastened to say more. “My father met him once, and he believed him to be a man of honor. He believed the earl desired peace with England.”
