Page 50 of Tempting the Highland Captive

“Family?” Amelia questioned, the look on her face one of bewilderment. “Ye are nae relation o’ mine.”

“Ah, but ye having married my son makes me so. Does it nae? I am yer faither in law.”

The look on Amelia’s face was one of shock and disbelief. “I dinnae believe ye.” She shook her head. Her eyes turned up to Ron’s looking for answers.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, his heart breaking as he watched the look in her eyes turn to that of betrayal.

“It isn’t true. It cannae be.” She staggered back away from him, shaking her head.

“Ah, but it is.” Rossell nearly cackled in his glee. “Yer children will bear my name. It will be my blood that rules these lands.”

Lucas drew his sword and put it to Rossell’s throat. “Silence, or I will cut yer tongue out and feed it tae Her Ladyship’s dogs.” Turning his head to Ron, he met his eye firmly. “Is it true?”

It was a simple question, yet with it came the end of his world. “It is true, but I have had nothing tae do with my faither or his actions since being pardoned from prison by the king.” The elders were all in a bluster over his words. Amelia’s carefully concocted lie concerning his history was rapidly falling apart.

“Get out,” Amelia’s voice broke through the fog of unreality, piercing his very soul. “Get out and ne’er return.”

“Amelia,” Ron began.

“Get out!” Amelia reeled on him, shrieking in sheer unadulterated pain. She jerked the coin purse form her belt and tossed it to the floor at his feet. “Here, take yer money and get out! Go tae France! Go tae yer faither! Go tae hell for all I care but get out!” Her words reverberated off the castle’s stone walls. “I ne’er wish tae see ye again.” Turning, she walked away from him. Ron made to follow, but her guardsmen closed ranks behind her disallowing him to pass.

“Amelia!” Ron called out one last time, but she was lost to him.

“Ye heard the lass,” Lucas ordered, and threw Michael Rossell out into the courtyard. He turned his eyes on Ron as if to ask whether he needed to be thrown out as well. Ron shook his head and walked through the doors, leaving the money Amelia had thrown at him lying on the floor. Lucas followed him. Rossell, in fear of his life, lunged to his feet, mounted his horse, and fled into the forest not bothering to look back. “Why?” Lucas asked, his eyes wavering between confusion and rage.

“I did nae mean for any o’ this tae happen. She found me in the prison. She was my last dying wish. I was pardoned. I came here. I fell in love.” He shrugged his shoulders in desolation.

“Ye were nae the spy?”

“Nae, I was nae the spy. I have had nothing tae do with my faither since the day he killed my maither and I was imprisoned for attempting tae slit his throat in retribution.”

“Ye should have told us the truth.”

“He did,” Father Jacob replied, coming to stand beside Lucas. “Under the seal o’ confession he bared his soul and told me all.” He turned his eyes to Ron in apology. “I was wrong, my son, tae have ye keep it from her. I am sorry.”

“’Tis nae yer fault, Faither. ‘Tis nae even mine. ‘Tis the sin o’ my blood, o’ which I have nae say.”

The priest came forward and laid his hand on Ron’s head. He murmured a prayer of blessing and safe keeping, kissed both cheeks, then stepped back making the sign of the cross. “Go with God, my son.” And go he did, his heartbreaking with every step.