Page 17 of Tempting the Highland Captive

CHAPTEREIGHT

When Amelia arrived at the castle, all the women and children were returning from their baths in the loch, while the men went to perform their own ablutions. Maggie and the other kitchen maids were diligently putting out a hot breakfast for everyone. Amelia scanned the hall for Ron but did not see him. People had already begun asking who the stranger was that had helped them to fight the fires and seemed to be known to their lairdess. Sighing, Amelia knew she would have to offer an explanation quickly before someone began accusing him of setting the fire as the only unknown person present. Crossing the hall, she climbed the stairs to her room and changed clothes. She laid her ruined dress on a chair by the fire until she could return to wash it properly. She pulled a clean shift over her head and slipped into a soft green dress the color of her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess, but after much brushing and yanking, she was able to put it to rights. She still smelled of smoke, everyone did, but there was nothing that could be done about that right now. At least with everyone bathing in the loch, they would not have ash falling from their hair into their bowls of parritch.

Leaving her bedchamber, Amelia crossed the corridor to the room that Maggie had readied for their guest. She knocked on the door and waited for a response. A few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a half-dressed Ron. “Did ye change yer mind, lass?” he inquired with an inviting smile.

Amelia swallowed hard, her eyes sliding over his muscled torso. “Nae.” She shook her head. “I came tae invite ye down tae break the fast. If we dinnae introduce ye tae the clan, then it will be far more difficult tae explain later.”

“Aye, I have been getting some suspicious glances since the fire. Shall I walk down with ye then?”

“Aye, if ye would like.”

Ron nodded. “Give me but a moment tae dress and I will be ready. Would ye care tae come in and wait?”

Amelia wavered on the threshold, uncertain. In the end, it was the fear of being caught waiting outside of her own husband’s room and the gossip that would cause that made her mind up for her. Nodding, she walked past him into the room, and he closed the door behind them. He walked over to the bed and picked up the clean shirt that had been left there for him, drawing it on over his trews. He pulled on a blue jacket over this that brought out the color of his eyes, then turned to look at her. His hair lay in golden tendrils around his face, framing his chiseled features.

“Shall we go?” Ron extended her his hand.

“Aye.” She nodded, attempting to gain some control of her rapidly beating heart, as she reached out and took his hand.

They descended the stairs together as one. It was a strange feeling having him at her side. She had gone down these same stairs a million times in her life, but never had she felt so scared and exhilarated by anyone’s touch as she did with him. As they entered the hall, every eye turned to them, and a hush fell over the crowd. Amelia walked the length of the hall, her hand in Ron’s, and stood on the dais where the laird’s table sat. “This is my husband, home from his service to the king.”

A rustling went through the crowd, first of shock, then of awe. Amelia turned to look at her husband and was struck by the angelic halo the light from the fireplace made of his blond hair. He looked like one of God’s archangels, fierce and larger than life. A moment later and every man, woman, and child bowed their heads in acknowledgement. “My Laird,” the words rippled through the room like a murmuring wave.

“Why do they do this? Why do they call me laird?” Ron asked under his breath, his tone noting confusion and embarrassment.

“Because ye are,” Amelia replied softly, her eyes misting with tears.

“Am what?”

“Their laird.”

“I am nae their laird. Ye are.”

Amelia looked into his eyes and saw that he meant it. He respected her. Her heart warmed at the thought, and she squeezed his hand in gratitude. “I thank ye for doin’ this.”

“I am here for the money,” he replied, but his voice lacked the angry conviction it had first held upon his arrival.

“Nevertheless,” Amelia murmured and turned back to her people. “It is just until I can prove to them that I am a capable leader.”

“I believe that ye already have. Look at their faces, Amelia, ye have given them hope where just this night they had none.”

Amelia looked out over her people. Some, such as the elders, were eyeing Ron suspiciously. Those who had lost their homes were clearly to upset to care about much else, but there were a handful of them that were looking at Amelia with trust, a trust that she would make everything whole once more. Out of the corner of her eye, the elders appeared to rise as one and she turned to see them approach the dais. “We must speak with ye, my lady,” the eldest among them requested.

“Oh?” Amelia asked innocently, placing her hand through Ron’s arm as if she were a besotted newlywed. “About?”

“This supposed husband o’ yers,” another elder snorted in disbelief. “We find it hard tae believe that just hours after speaking with ye about yer husband’s absence, there he now stands.”

“She was unaware o’ my return as I wished tae surprise my wife,” Ron replied, leveling the man with a warning look to indicate that he did not like the elder’s tone.

“And a lovely surprise it is, husband.” Amelia looked up at him with what she hoped was some semblance of adoration. She was determined to convince them of the lie.

“How do we ken that he is any sort o’ man? How do we ken that he will protect our people? How has he proved himself worthy o’ our clan?” the elder went on as if Ron were not standing right there in front of him.

“He saved my wee bairn from burnin’ tae death.” The mother of the babe that Ron had saved came forward and knelt at Ron’s feet taking his hand into hers. Bowing her head, she kissed it. “Tae this man and tae his progeny, I do swear my allegiance.”

The elders, uncertain as to what to make of this display of gratitude and devotion towards a stranger, looked at each in question. Amelia ready to end the conversation arose and addressed her people once more. “This is my husband Ron Kyall McAlpine,” she added the clan’s name for good measure, “who has come tae lead and protect us all. What say ye?”

“I say, aye!” Father Jacob stood with his cup raised. “I wed ye afore and I bless ye now again. Tae the laird and lady!”