Page 48 of Tempting the Highland Captive

The priest motioned for Ron to join him in kneeling. “Speak tae me, my son, o’ what it is that troubles ye so.”

Ron uncertain and afraid of what might happen when he did, hesitated. “Faither, I…”

“Ye have come tae me in the night for a purpose, my laird.”

“Aye,” Ron agreed, “I have.” Squaring his shoulders, he walked over to where the priest was and knelt down beside him. Taking a deep breath, he began. “Faither, forgive me for I have sinned…”

* * *

When Amelia awakened the next morning, she found herself alone. The bed next to her was cold as if Ron had not slept in it at all. Frowning, she arose, bathed in a bowl of water, dressed, and made her way down to the great hall in search of her husband. She found him sitting watch with Father Jacob over the body of Stuart McAlpine. When she entered the chapel, the priest stood, laid his hand on Ron’s shoulder, and murmured something that Amelia could not hear. Nodding, Ron stood and faced Amelia. “Are ye ready tae lay yer clansman tae rest?”

Amelia nodded silently. She could tell that something had transpired between her husband and the priest, but she had no notion as to what it had been. There was a solemn trust between them now that had not existed before. “I am ready,” she answered, her voice shaking more out of uncertainty than sorrow.

Ron nodded and walked over to the open chapel door, placing a kiss on Amelia’s forehead as he passed her. He motioned to Lucas and Angus, who had apparently been lying in wait to be summoned. The four men lifted the steward’s coffin up onto their shoulders and carried him out of the castle, across the courtyard, and down the road to the kirk beyond. Amelia and Maggie followed. As they walked, people from the castle and village fell in step behind them. A hymn of mourning began somewhere in the procession and caught on until everyone was singing along. When they reached the graveside that Angus had arranged the day before, the men lowered the coffin down into the hole and Father Jacob performed the proper prayers and words of condolence. He spoke eloquently of the steward’s loyal service and of his ultimate sacrifice. He closed with another prayer, then the crowd dissipated, each family returning to their own place of abode.

Amelia watched them go, Ron’s arm around her waist. “They dinnae want tae risk eating in the hall. I cannae say as I blame them.”

“They will overcome their fear in time. Until then, it is our duty tae show them that life continues on.” He tightened his hold on her waist in an effort to provide comfort.

“Rossell has brought about so much damage,” Amelia sighed bitterly.

“He will answer for his crimes,” Ron promised, his tone steady, but menacing.

They left the graveside together and returned to the hall. Maggie disappeared into the kitchen, then reappeared but moments later with food to break the fast. Those few who were brave enough to do so, sat down at the table nearest the hearth and ate together in relative silence. “I have decided to send word tae my faither’s allies and the neighboring lairds. With these recent deaths, I feel I have nae choice but tae move forward whether I have sufficient evidence or nae. It is my hope that our spies will have produced something of note by the time that we gather.”

Ron nodded slowly. She could see that he was not pleased with the idea, but he did not argue. “We will be ready,” he reassured her.

“I will have the men ready tae deliver yer words as soon as ye have put quill tae them,” Lucas promised, pleased to be moving forward. He was not a man who liked to stand idle when there was fighting to be done.

Amelia nodded. “I will retire tae the library until I have finished, then I will send for ye,” she informed Lucas. “But first, we must meet with the elders.”

“Aye,” Lucas nodded, not entirely pleased with the idea but knowing it was necessary. “Perhaps it would be best if His Lairdship summoned them?”

Amelia sighed but nodded. “Aye, as much as I dislike it, ye are correct in yer assumption.”

Ron arose with Lucas. “They will reveal tae us all that they ken about the spy in our midst, or I will make them regret the day that they preferred a laird tae Our Lady,” he growled. Kissing Amelia, he followed Lucas out into the courtyard to call the meeting of the elders.

Amelia remained where she sat. It was not going to be a pleasant bit of business and she steeled herself for the verbal assault. Maggie arose to full cups of ale, while Father Jacob prayed for a successful meeting. Amelia thought of all the things that needed to be done and it occurred to her that she would need to hire a new castle steward. A pit of sadness settled in her stomach, and she fought back the tears that threatened to spill. Stuart McAlpine had been the castle steward since long before she was born. He had been a close friend and confidant to her mother. Though he had never had any family of his own, he had always made everyone who entered the castle gates to feel as if they were family. He and Maggie had been an unstoppable team. I must speak with Maggie about Stuart’s replacement. I will nae hire any man that she does nae approve.

Amelia’s thoughts turned to the missives that she would need to write to summon their allies. The letters must be worded carefully and yet make the urgency clear. Her father had performed such a summoning before, but this would be Amelia’s first. Will they come? Will they honor our alliance or cast us aside in favor o’ a more stable ally? Will Ron’s presence as laird be enough tae make them listen? Will we find the evidence we need in time? Amelia’s mind swirled with questions as her heart raced with uncertainty. There was so much riding on the outcome of her letters to the lairds and their response to her summons.

As the elders began filing into the great hall, Amelia squared her shoulders preparing to do battle. The group was more subdued than usual due to the morning’s funeral. Amelia was not certain whether the quiet would work in her favor, or if their sorrow would cause them to fight her even more than usual. When Ron and Lucas rejoined them, they began the discussion. Amelia took a deep breath and charged in. “I have decided to call a meeting of our allies and neighboring lairds tae bring charges against Michael Rossell for the murder o’ our clansmen and the theft of goods.”

To her surprise she was met by several nods of approval. “We would agree with this course of action,” the eldest of the men replied. “Michael Rossell must be held tae account for what he has done.”

The former mariner spoke up at this juncture in protest, “Should it nae be His Lairdship who sends the summons? The lairds will nae condescend tae be called by a mere lass e’en if she is a lady o’ noble birth.”

Amelia balled her hands into fists under the table, fighting the urge to punch the man in the face. “His Lairdship will be present at the meeting. I will make this clear in the letters.”

“Most o’ the larids have nae e’en met His Lairdship,” Lucas pointed out. “He is nae but a stranger tae them. It is best if Her ladyship sends the letters as a known friend.”

This point seemed to put some of the elders at ease. Amelia growled low in her throat in frustration. Hearing it, Ron reached under the table and took her hand in his for emotional support. “Only a fool would deny a summons from the Lady Amelia,” he defended her lovingly, bringing her hand up to kiss it. The elders shifted in their seats, some clearing their throats uncomfortably aware that their laird had called them out with a single gesture of affection. He could not have made himself any clearer had he painted a sign across her dress that said: She is mine. Hurt her and die.

“As tae the other matter,” she took back control of the conversation. “There is a spy among us.”

“Impossible,” several of the elders sputtered in indignation.

The eldest among them met Amelia’s eye. “Who?” he asked, simple, straightforward, honest. Within that moment, Ameliea knew that the spy was not him.

“We dinnae ken who it is, but we will find them. ‘Tis only a matter o’ time,” Lucas promised menacingly.

Amelia nodded in confirmation. “Do any o’ ye ken who it might be?” She suspected the mariner but did not say so. He had always hated her and had no qualms about showing her.

“I dinnae ken, my lady,” the eldest of the men replied, “but I will do all in my power tae aid ye in yer search. My family are at yer disposal.” He bowed his head graciously in deference to her position as lady of the clan, then turned his head and nodded in similar fashion to Ron in acknowledgment of his new role as laird. “We will question the people and bring the culprit tae ye.” The other elders nodded in agreement, bowing to the wisdom of the eldest among them.

“We appreciate yer assistance and pray that it bears fruit,” Amelia accepted diplomatically.

The elders, clearly feeling that the meeting was over, arose and shuffled out of the hall in a staggered line. Amelia watched them go in half amusement half frustration. “They are a law unto themselves, are they nae,” Ron observed his tone expressing similar emotions to her own.

“Indeed, they are.” Rising, Amelia retired to the library to write her missives, leaving her husband to stare after her, a spark of protective possession in his eyes.