Page 35 of Tempting the Highland Captive

“Well done, my lady,” Elspeth murmured in praise as Amelia stormed back into the hall.

“Do ye think he kenned that I was a bit worse for the drink?” Amelia asked, her brow furrowed in anger and concern.

“Perhaps ye should drink more often.” Elspeth laughed. “It makes ye brave. ‘Twas a braw sight tae see.”

“I only hope that yer brother does nae kill him and bring down the wrath o’ Rossell’s allies upon our heads.” Amelia wondered if she should go back outside to temper her guardsman’s hand.

Elspeth shook her head. “My brother would like nothing more than tae kill that swine, but he would ne’er do anything that would bring detriment tae ye or the clan. If he did kill him, it would be in a way that nae one would ken who did it and would nae lead back tae ye.”

Amelia admired the way Elspeth knew her brother’s mind. She had never shared such a connection with anyone being an only child and she envied what they had. Elspeth had been the closest thing she had to a sister when they were children, but it had been many years since they had spent any quantity of time together. “I hope that ye are right.”

“I am.” Elspeth nodded. “When it comes tae Lucas, I am always right.”

Amelia laughed then as she knew that Lucas would disagree, but she said nothing more on the matter. “Ye are good for the soul, Elspeth McAlpine. I miss ye.”

“I miss ye as well. Now, tell me more about this husband o’ yers. He is a bonnie lad tae be certain.” She looped her arm through Amelia’s, and they went to sit on the dais. The elders had moved

on to visit with their families and had left the dais empty allowing the two women a moment of privacy.

Amelia had not planned to tell Elspeth the truth about her marriage, but wine and frustration won out. Before she realized what she was doing, she had told Elspeth the entire story from beginning to end, including their tryst in the garden mere moments before. When she was done, she gritted her teeth and waited for the judgement to come. Elspeth’s face was a vision of surprise. Amelia was certain that her eyebrows could not have gone any further into her hairline before becoming lost all together. “Say something,” she commanded her friend, unable to bear the tension.

“What can one say?” Elspeth asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

Amelia feared that she had done the wrong thing in telling her and grasped her friend’s hand. “Ye cannae tell anyone. Nae even yer husband. Do ye ken what I am saying tae ye? The future o’ our people depend upon it.”

“I would ne’er say a word tae anyone.”

Amelia sighed in relief, but then frowned again. “Do ye judge me for it?”

Elspeth shook her head and squeezed Amelia’s hand in reassurance. “I could ne’er judge ye, dear heart, and in yer circumstances, I might have done the same.” She paused, and a twinkle entered her eyes, “but I would have bed the man without delay.”

Amelia laughed so hard that tears fell down her cheeks. “It has nae been easy,” she admitted at last, catching her breath.

“The man is an Adonis, but better.” Elspeth swooned back into her chair with an exaggerated flourish. “I would ne’er let him out o’ my bed. I would use his hard muscled body as my dining table and…” Elspeth proceeded to describe in graphic detail everything that she thought Amelia should do to, and with, her new husband. When she was done, she sat back and downed an entire cup of wine, grinning like a cat who had just eaten a mouse.

Amelia, blushing from her head to her toes, shook her head in amazement at her friend’s creativity. “How do ye think o’ such things?”

“I am a married woman.” Elspeth shrugged as if that should explain everything.

“Tae a verra happy husband, if yer words are any indication,” Amelia muttered, picking up her own cup, raising a toast to her friend, and finishing what remained of its contents.

“Aye, he is that,” Elspeth purred like a contented kitten. “And he will be happy again this night if I have any say in the matter.” She smiled wickedly as her eyes fell upon him in the crowd below.

Once again, Amelia envied her friend’s certainty. Unfortunately, as the lairdess, she would never know for certain whether anyone seeking her hand was doing so for her alone or for the power her position gave them. Ron did nae marry me for power, she reminded herself. Nae he married me for lust and coin, the cynic in her retorted bitterly. She was still put out and confused by their earlier encounter. If she remembered anything in the morning, she was certain to regret her actions in the garden. She prayed for the gift of forgetfulness.