Page 34 of Tempting the Highland Captive

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Ron could have kicked himself as he watched Amelia disappear back inside. He had wanted her with a passion that up to that point he had never experienced, but he had grown to care for her too much to take her virginity then leave her to live a life alone without love. When he left, he would leave her intact so that she could forge the life that she wanted for herself on her terms. When he had asked her out to the garden, he had not been thinking, simply feeling. He could not regret the moment that they had shared together no matter how it had ended, but part of him wished that he had done as she had bidden and thrust himself inside of her over and over until he became so much a part of her that they could never be separated.

“Ron, ye are a great arse,” he grumbled to himself as he stood to follow her.

Crossing the garden, he entered the chapel, crossed himself before the golden statuary of Christ’s crucifixion praying for strength, then stepped back into the great hall. He surveyed the crowd for Amelia, but to his surprise and horror found the sturdy darkhaired blue-eyed frame of one Michael Rossell. He cannae see me here. It will bring nothing but pain to Amelia and her people if he kens that I am her husband. Ducking back out of the door into the chapel, he strode through the garden and out the side gate to the kitchen garden beyond. He hoped to slip into the kitchen unnoticed and take the back stairs up to the rooms above, but as he entered the room, he found Father Jacob standing by the hearth eating a Lammastide loaf. The priest looked up as he entered and raised his brows in question.

“What are ye doin’ here?” Ron blurted out in frustration before thinking it through.

“I told Maggie I would mind the fire while she and her lassies enjoy the festivities.”

“Should ye nae be out there tae aid Yer Lady with her enemies?” he demanded, the wine and ale and anger causing him to be less than courteous.

“Should ye nae be in the hall with yer wife defending her from the terrible man Rossell, yerself?” The priest looked at him with accusatory eyes. “I cannae be in the same room with the man and nae wish tae slit his throat. ‘Tis better for me tae remain here, but what is yer excuse? Ye have already been pardoned for the offense, so what do ye have tae fear. ‘Tis nae as if ye will be sent back tae prison for defending yer own wife.” The priest’s words slurred a bit making it clear that Ron and Amelia were not the only ones who had slightly overindulged in celebration.

“If Rossell kens that Amelia is married tae me, he will do everything in his power tae ruin her and yer clan. I will nae be responsible for that.”

Father Jacob frowned. “Ye should have done the job right the first time and killed him.”

“Aye, I should have,” Ron agreed, then turned and left the room.

Behind him he heard the priest’s last parting shot. “I’ll tell everyone that ye had tae much o’ the drink and retired for the night.”

“Do that,” Ron barked back, then disappeared into the darkness above stairs.

* * *

Amelia, flushed and out of sorts, barreled through the crowd in the great hall until she bumped into Lucas. He stood before her like an enormous statue and was growling at someone. Peering around the side of him, she gasped and ducked back behind his protective back. The person he was growling at was none other than the troublemaker Michael Rossell himself. How dare he come tae our gathering uninvited, Amelia steamed silently. She balled her fists up at her sides and prepared to do battle. Straitening her shoulders, she stepped out from behind Lucas and stared down the malevolent tumor of a man before her.

“Rossell,” she practically hissed like an angry cat. She regretted having so much to drink earlier in the celebrations. It made it harder for her to control and hide her emotions.

“Lady Amelia.” Rossell bowed mockingly. He eyed her up and down like a piece of good venison roasting on a spit causing Amelia to flush with anger and embarrassment. She sent a swift prayer up to God that he would not be able to tell that she had just participated in very questionable behavior with her husband mere moments before. “I have come to meet yer new husband. I was informed that he has returned.”

Amelia drew in a breath and held it for a moment to keep from spitting in the man’s face for the tone he used. “I am nae certain where he is at the moment, but he is around here somewhere.” Amelia waved her hand in the air as if to say that it was of little matter.

“I have come tae meet him. Surely, ye would nae deny a guest the hospitality o’ yer new laird.”

Amelia bit her tongue to keep from saying something that she would regret. Thankfully, she was saved by the appearance of Father Jacob. “His Lairdship had too much wine during the celebrations and has retired to his room for the night. He gave orders nae tae be disturbed.”

Amelia’s heart sank at this news as she had wanted to rub Ron’s presence in Rossell’s face, but she resigned herself to doing so later. “Another time, then,” she informed Rossell by way of dismissal. She could not fathom why he thought that it was acceptable to just trespass upon their lands whenever he liked. She gave serious consideration to having her men kill him the next time he dared such a thing, but she dismissed it knowing that such an action would bring down the wrath of more than one clan including the Clan Russell whom the Rossells still had connections with. She was not entirely certain that the king would be pleased with her either over the matter. Rossell had a way of making other people like and trust him. Only the clans he had harmed, such as the Clan McAlpine, knew the truth about his terrible nature.

“Another time,” Rossell murmured studying her face closely. “Ye should have married me, lass. A man who cannae hold his drink is nae match for ye.”

Amelia was embarrassed by his words but tried not to show it. “Nevertheless, I am married before God and man. It is done.”

“It is done,” Father Jacob echoed as if a blessing upon the truth of her words.

“Allow me tae raise a toast then tae the happy couple,” Rossell proclaimed, taking two cups from the nearest table and thrusting one into Amelia’s hand. Lucas went for his dirk, but Amelia shook her head to still him. “May yer husband bed ye better than he can hold his drink.” Rossell raised his cup and downed it. Before Amelia could stop him, Lucas had Rossell up by his throat and was dragging him out of the castle doors and tossing him out into the courtyard. Rossell sprawled indecorously upon the stones, sputtering and gasping for air. His face was nearly as red as Amelia’s dress. “How dare ye!” he rasped, unable to roar as he would have clearly liked to do. Lucas had bruised his throat enough to make speech difficult.

“How dare ye tae come upon our lands uninvited and besmirch our laird and lady,” Father Jacob spoke with harsh disapproval. “God will judge ye for it!” The priest spat at Rossell’s feet and made the sign of the cross as if in judgement.

Rossell gaped like a dying fish. The priest might as well have placed a curse upon him, he was so stunned. “Ye cannae treat me this way!”

“Aye, we can, and we have,” Lucas growled. “If ye dinnae leave, laws o’ Highland hospitality or nae, I will slit ye from yer arse tae yer nose and feed yer innards tae the ravens.”

Sputtering and gasping, Rossell scrambled to his feet. “Are ye goin’ tae let yer men speak tae me this way, a laird in yer house?”

“Ye are nae a laird here, Michael Rossell, nor shall ye e’er be,” Amelia informed him, then turning on her heels reentered the castle and shut the door behind her, signaling to Lucas that the offending man’s presence was no longer to be tolerated.