Page 45 of Tempting the Highland Captive

Ron stayed behind to watch the men train. Lucas stood beside him in silence until Amelia was out of hearing then he turned to face him, his jaw set firm. “Ye have consummated the marriage,” Lucas stated, not bothering to ask. “Dinnae hurt her, or I will kill ye.” Having said his piece, he turned and walked back out onto the training field.

Ron watched him walk away, knowing that he meant every word. A tug of guilt made his heart beat a bit faster in trepidation. The truth of his past was going to come out and he feared the consequences when they did. Will Amelia still love me? Lucas will have every right tae kill me. His heart quickened further out of fear for the former, rather than the latter. Now that he had possessed Amelia heart and soul, he could not imagine life without her. His mind told him that he should have fled to France long before now, but his heart would not let him, now rooted forever in the soil of the Clan McAlpine.

He stood there for some time until the pain in his shoulder urged him to seek his rest. Maggie had resewn his wounds that morning when he had sought her out in the kitchens. She had been displeased at his lack of care for his own wellbeing, but he had born her chastisements as an act of caring. He genuinely liked Maggie. She reminded him of his mother. Not in appearance, but in heart and mind. He had a soft spot for kind intelligent women. It was what drew him to Amelia as well. His father had greatly enjoyed beating such women down, as he had done Ron’s mother.

Shaking his head to dismiss the memory, Ron walked down to the loch to bathe the blood from his skin. Removing his clothes, he waded out into the water and let it wash over him. Flashes of the night that he and Amelia had shared together passed through his mind in vivid images and sensations caused him to ache with desire once more. I should have asked her tae join me, he thought with a rueful smile. Quickly bathing, Ron dressed and made his way back to the castle.

He found Amelia with Maggie and the castle steward planning the details of the coming meeting of lairds. It would not be a grand feast as Lammastide had been, but it required even more care in its preparation. Too much hinged upon its success. Amelia, seeing him enter, waved him over to join them at the table. The steward had apparently just finished performing an inventory of the wines after the festivities and was giving his report. He had brought up a bottle of the vintage he proposed to serve at the meeting and poured them each a portion to sample. The steward drank first to ensure that the wine had not turned and was worthy of the laird and lady, then nodded his approval. He drained his cup, then poured another portion for a toast.

“Tae a successful endeavor, my lady.”

Amelia smiled and raised her own cup. Just as she was about to take a sip, the steward grimaced, doubled over in pain, then fell stone dead to the floor. Ron reached out and snatched the cup from Amelia’s hand before she could take a sip. Maggie, seeing everything for what it clearly was, set her cup down and pushed it away from herself. “Poison,” she murmured, rising to examine the steward’s body.

Amelia’s face was fixed in an expression of appalled shock. “Who…” She could not get past the first word of the question.

Ron came around the side of the table and wrapped his arms around her. “Rossell,” he murmured.

“Father Jacob should be sent for.”

Ron nodded. “And Lucas.” He arose, placing a kiss on the top of her head, then walked to the door to summon one of the guardsmen. “Find Faither Jacob and Lucas. Tell them tae come tae the hall with all haste.” After a moment of pause in thought he add, “Send for Angus the blacksmith as well.”

“Aye, laird.” The guardsman nodded in deference then went to fetch a stable boy to seek out the needed parties.

Ron returned to Amelia who now knelt next to the body. “Everything will need tae be examined for poison. Nothing should be consumed until we ken for certain.”

Amelia nodded her head, her eyes never leaving the steward’s face. “How did Rossell do this?”

“Michael Rossell is capable o’ the most heinous crimes e’er conceived by man.”

Amelia looked up at him in question, her features trembling from the sorrow and shock. “But how did he do it? How did he get past our guards to do so?”

Ron thought about this for a moment. “There is someone within the clan who is spying for him, doing his bidding.”

“Who?” She shook her head in denial. “Who would do such a thing tae their own people?”

Maggie sat back on her heels; her lips pursed in thought. Her red rimmed eyes showed that she had been crying while he was speaking with the guardsman but had rubbed the tears away before he had seen them. “I dinnae remember anyone suspicious being in the food stores, but I cannae be certain. A great many people are coming and going throughout the day.”

“Could ye tell what poison was used?” Ron asked Maggie given her healing knowledge.

Maggie shook her head. “I cannae say for certain. Nightshade perhaps? Something else?” She shook her head again. The look on her face one of sorrow and bewilderment. “I dinnae ken how one o’ our own could do this.”

“Rossell has a way o’ getting what he wants nae matter the means or consequences.” Ron’s heart went out to the two women. The steward had been well liked by all.

“In order tae get tae me, he would have poisoned the entire castle,” Amelia spoke in horrified disbelief. “How many people must die for me?”

“This is nae yer fault.” Ron took his wife into his arms and rocked her gently. “Were it nae ye, Rossell would have set his mind tae another with the same result.”

Father Jacob, Lucas, and Angus entered the hall nearly at the same time, staggered only by mere moments. Father Jacob prayed over the body, while Ron pulled Lucas and Angus aside. “Angus, we are going tae need a coffin made and a grave dug. Ye can have some o’ the men assist ye. As ye ken, the steward had nae family. Her Ladyship and I will pay for the cost o’ his burial.”

“Aye, my laird,” Angus nodded in understanding and departed to do as asked.

Turning to Lucas, he met the older man’s eye. “It was poison in the wine.”

“Rossell,” Lucas growled.

“Aye, Rossell. He must be dealt with.”

“Aye,” Lucas nodded.