Page 24 of Tempting the Highland Captive

“Is it nae difficult tae be a smithy without seein’ straight?” Ron asked.

Father Jacob laughed. “Ye would think, but it does nae seem tae affect his metal work. Only when he must do something akin tae this,” he gestured toward the string outline.

“He was kicked in the head by a horse he was shoeing,” Lucas explained, rubbing his own head in sympathy.

“I see,” Ron murmured, furrowing his own brow at the thought of how that must have felt.

The three men moved on to survey the other string outlines that were being placed, offering help and advice where needed. When Father Jacob retired for the night, Lucas and Ron went to speak with the men on guard. “Any sign o’ Rossell?” he asked his second in command standing atop the wall.

“Nae,” the warrior replied, shaking his head. “I have nae seen anythin’ out o’ place, but then he managed tae slip through our lines before.”

“See that it does nae happen again,” Lucas ordered, then moved on down the line of men.

Ron observed Lucas’ manner with the men and approved. Though Lucas was a loud boisterous man when he was angry, he had a caring protective side when dealing with Amelia and his own men that Ron respected. When they had spoken to all the men around the village and the castle, they returned to the hall and climbed the stairs to where Amelia rested in Ron’s bedchamber. Knocking, they were bade entrance by Maggie. Lucas gave Amelia the daily report and listened closely as she relayed her instructions for the next part of the process. “Since we are already rested, yer husband and I will be takin’ part o’ the night watch,” Lucas informed her, by way of asking consent.

Amelia nodded, the look in her eyes showing her pleasure. “I am glad tae see that ye are both getting on.”

Lucas snorted. “He is nae as bad as I thought.”

Ron’s brows shot up in surprise. “I ne’er thought I would see the day,” he murmured under his breath and Amelia laughed.

“Nor did I,” she replied with a sparkle in her eye. Her cheeks were still flushed with fever against her pale skin, and she looked weary, but according to Maggie she was doing well and making good progress in her recovery. The cook had changed the dressing on Amelia’s burn and had readministered all the appropriate medicines to further continued healing.

They sat and talked for a brief time more, Lucas telling Amelia of how Ron had spoken well of her among their people, specifically to the men. “He did ye proud, lass.”

Amelia’s face flushed further with pleasure. “I thank ye for that.”

“I spoke nothing but the truth. Yer faither should have made ye laird and left it at that,” Ron answered, shaking his head in denial of the praise and gratitude. “Ye are far more worthy than most.”

“Most women?” she asked, uncertainly.

“Most lairds,” he corrected, smiling down at her, holding her eyes with his.

The moment was brief, but intense and Lucas was the one to break it by clearing his throat. “We had best be goin’ about our duties,” he urged Ron to stand with him. “We’ll bid thee a good night, my lady,” he bowed ever so slightly, then turned and left the room waiting for Ron in the corridor beyond.

“Sleep well, wife,” Ron murmured, bringing her hand to his lips. Placing a kiss upon her heated flesh, he turned and followed Lucas out of the castle and into the dark night.

* * *

The days passed slowly as Amelia healed while Ron and Lucas saw to the needs of the clan in her stead. She had made Lucas carry her to her own bedchamber the moment she was able to be moved and was lonelier for the decision to leave Ron’s room and the comfort of his nearness. It went against everything that she was to remain abed and allow her body to heal while men did the work that she so desperately wished to prove that she herself could do. Lucas came each day and gave his reports asking for her impute and what her next orders might be. Ron gave his own kind of report that was far more personal than Amelia would have ever expected. He was becoming a part of the clan, learning each member’s names and their relationships within the community. He had become quick friends with Father Jacob and his brother Angus the blacksmith, helping the younger of the brothers to rebuild his home in the village. He told Amelia funny stories of the children’s antics and the brothers’ humorous squabbling over everything. Through his stories, she felt as if she had been a part of the process all along. He had a way of making people feel as if they belonged, as if they were valued, and in her case precious.

Wincing, Amelia arose from the bed and limped over to the open window where the sounds of hammers and men at work called her to action. She knew that Maggie would be mad at her for risking breaking open her wound again, but she could not bear to lay still any longer. She needed to be out and about, experiencing life in all its mundane glory. Leaning against the stone wall, she watched the villagers just beyond and below the castle walls going about their daily tasks and reconstruction projects. The houses were coming along nicely. She only prayed that they would be finished in time for the first of the harvest.

Turning her gaze, she found Ron and Lucas in the training yard working with the younger men to improve their fighting skills. Ron was a skilled fighter. His movements were smooth, elegant, almost like a dancer. When a young man made a mistake, Ron would step in and gently show him the proper way, then step back and let the pupil make the adjustments. It was a good system, and she could already see a difference in the way her warriors moved in the field. A breeze filtered through the window, and she leaned out to catch more of it, letting it lift her hair and blow it around her like a shining brown flag. The motion must have caught Ron’s eye, as he stopped what he was doing and lifted his eyes to the window where she stood. In the next instant, he was heading toward the castle.

Amelia, knowing she had been caught out of bed, limped back over, and crawled beneath the covers. Her heart raced in anticipation of seeing him again. That is if he does nae tell Maggie on me, and she is the one tae come and chastise me. She frowned in disappointment at the thought. She did not have long to find out as just moments passed before she heard his heavy boot falls coming down the stone corridor. Amelia squirmed in anticipation, then stopped when she realized what she was doing. Grabbing a book from the chair beside her, she quickly turned to a page and acted like she was reading.

The door creaked open, and Amelia looked over the top of her book to find Ron Kyall standing there in all his warrior glory. His shirt was hanging open showing the light sheen of sweat covering his muscular chest. His golden hair glistened in the sunlight streaming in from the window and his blue eyes caught hers, their intensity shining out at her like a cloudless sky reflected in perfectly forged steel. “Wife,” he intoned warningly, coming to stand beside the bed. “I saw ye hangin’ out o’ yer window. If Maggie catches ye, she will have yer head.”

“Who, me?” Amelia asked innocently. “Are ye certain it was nae a bird?”

Ron chuckled good humoredly and his gaze softened. “How are ye feelin’? Restless?”

“Aye.” Amelia sighed, setting aside the book all pretense of reading gone. “I cannae stand being useless.”

“Ye are nae useless, lass, nae matter what ye may think.”

“Well, I certainly feel it.” Amelia knew that she sounded like a spoiled child in that moment, but she had been made to rest far too long for her taste and she was getting irritable.