Captured by the Highlander (26 page)

When Amelia saw Richard for the first time since her abduction, something inside her lost its point of reference.

Her former fiancé was dressed in his impressive red uniform with shiny brass buttons. He wore
tall
black boots, polished to a perfect,
brilliant
sheen. He looked almost like her father in his younger days, and the recognition of that fact penetrated her convictions most disturbingly. Golden-haired and strikingly handsome, Richard carried himself with an impressive confidence as he walked the vast length of the great
hall
, his footsteps echoing up into the ceiling timbers, his gray eyes fixed on Duncan the entire time.

Fergus, Gawyn, and Angus
strolled
in behind Bennett and spread out across the back of the room.

Amelia’s heart began to pound. She had not known of their presence at the castle today. What was their purpose?

Why did Duncan want them here?

Richard stopped in front of them and gave the obligatory bow. Duncan, in
all
his silks and finery, sat on his throne like a great and powerful king, saying nothing.

For the longest time, no one spoke, and Amelia felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest. She rested a hand on the back of Duncan’s chair.

“I request a private conversation with Lady Amelia,”

Richard said.

“Your request is denied.”

Amelia was uncomfortably aware of her future husband’s flagrant show of disrespect. She glanced anxiously at her uncle, but he appeared to be taking it
all
in stride.

Richard’s cheeks colored with anger, and his gaze shot to hers. “Are you
all
right, my dear?”

“Yes,” she replied, unnerved by his familiarity. She had formal y ended their engagement. She was no longer his “dear.”

He turned his attention to Duncan. “You behave with dishonor, my lord.”

“I
’ll
behave any way I damn
well
please, Bennett, especial y if it means you
’ll
be troubled by it.”

“Duncan…,” she whispered, seeking only to remind him of his promise to her.

He whirled around in his chair and glared up at her accusingly, as if she had just betrayed him in the worst possible way, then stood and hopped off the dais, slamming heavily onto the floor.

Though he was dressed in a sophisticated costume of silks and lace and wore a wig of shiny black curls, he walked with a dangerous, threatening swagger, circling around Richard like a carnivore assessing its prey. He palmed the hilt of his sword with a quiet, unbroken obsession. He had never, in her eyes, appeared more frightening.

Richard rotated a
full
circle, never taking his eyes off Duncan. Amelia stepped forward anxiously.

“Indulge me if you
will
, Bennett,” Duncan said. “Do you remember a young Scottish lass by the name of Muira MacDonald?”

Oh, God.
… She had thought Duncan would address the legitimacy of their engagement before anything else, but clearly she had misjudged his priorities. Foolishly so, she supposed.
all
of this had always been about one thing.

Muira. It was why he had abducted her in the first place.

Her eyes turned to Angus. He stood against the far
wall
, watching the exchange with dark, sinister satisfaction.

“I do not
recall
any woman of that name,” Richard replied.

“Think harder, Bennett. You took your pleasure with her in an apple orchard, against her
will
. You let your men take their pleasures, too; then you murdered her in cold blood. You sliced off her head and sent it home to her father.”

Amelia sucked in a breath and glanced at her uncle. He seemed distressed by the explicitness of the account but strangely unsurprised.

“I know not of what you speak, Moncrieffe,” Richard firmly said, “and I am here to
challenge
your betrothal to Lady Amelia Templeton. You are aware, sir, that when she arrived here she was already promised to me. Her own father, the late Duke of Winslowe, approved the match.”

“Aye, I am aware, but now she belongs to me, and as a result, is under my protection. Do not forget, I saved her from the Butcher.” He was
still
circling around Richard with his hand on his sword.

Richard
followed
his every move. “She was mine to protect, not yours.”

Duncan stopped and changed direction, circling back the other way. “But your protection of women is rather selective, Bennett, do you not think? You seek to protect one, but not others. The lady deserves better than that.”

He laughed. “And you think
you
can do better? That
you
deserve her affections? Clearly you are a brute, Moncrieffe, just like your father. You have no cause to accuse
me
—an officer in the King’s army—of anything! I am here to ensure that she is safe, and from what I have seen thus far, it appears that you have coerced her into accepting your hand.

You may even be in legion with the infamous Butcher of the Highlands yourself—in which case I
will
see you hanged for treason.”

Duncan shook his head with loathing. “If anyone in this room is going to hang, Bennett, I assure you it
will
not be me.”

“I have done no wrong,” Richard insisted; then he tossed his head toward the window. “But your rebel clansmen led me on a wild chase into the north, while Amelia—

miraculously—was being delivered back here.”

“Miraculous, indeed,” Duncan said with spite. “Now
tell
me about what you did to Muira that day in the orchard.
tell
me about the message you sent to her father, the Laird MacDonald. I want my future wife to hear it straight from your own mouth.”

Richard shot her a desperate look. “Do not listen to him, Amelia. He is trying to smear my good name only to have power over you, and therefore seek connections through your uncle. He means to distract you from his true purposes as a Jacobite traitor.”

Duncan chuckled bitterly. “You’re as good a liar as you are a murderer.”

“Your Grace!” Richard shouted over his shoulder. Amelia’s uncle strode forward. “May I have your word as a witness that the Earl of Moncrieffe has threatened me today, and that he has become involved in suspicious activities, and is an accomplice in the abduction of your niece, Lady Amelia Templeton?”

“I am witness to no such thing,” her uncle replied. “The earl provided my niece with a safe haven upon her escape. That is
all
I know.”

“Your Grace!”

When her uncle did not retract his statement, Richard changed the direction of his plea. “Amelia.
tell
me now if this man has compromised you, or forced your hand in any way. If that is so, I
will
bring the law down upon him.”

She spoke firmly, even though her head was swimming with fear.

“No, Richard, it is not true. I was not coerced. I accepted his proposal freely, and with love in my heart. So please, gentlemen, take your hands off your swords. If I mean anything to either one of you, there
will
be no fighting today.”

“Amelia,” Richard protested.

She stepped down from the dais. “Richard, I am sorry if my letter caused you pain. It was not my intention to hurt you. I
will
be forever grateful to you for saving my father’s life on the battlefield, and I appreciate that you have come here to ensure my safety and happiness, but it is over now. I am sorry, but I do not love you. I love Lord Moncrieffe.”

Something trembled within her.

Richard strode forward. “Amelia. This is absurd. The man is a Scot!”

She raised her chin. “There is nothing more to say, Richard. You must go now.
Please,
just go.”

Duncan and Richard glared at each other for a tension-fil
l
ed moment; then at last Richard made a move to leave.

Duncan stopped him with a hand. “Nay, Colonel Bennett.

You
will
not be going anywhere just yet.”

Please, no.
…

“Take your filthy hands off me, you detestable Highland vermin. You’re
all
alike.” Richard looked up at her again.

“Amelia, don’t be a fool. You cannot think to marry this man.

He is the son of a whore.”

Anger reared up in her. “Richard, you forget yourself! The earl’s mother was the Countess of Moncrieffe, daughter of a French marquis and a great scholar and philanthropist.”

Richard scoffed. “No, Amelia. Moncrieffe’s father left his fine French wife for the
village
whore, and was excommunicated for it.” He regarded Duncan as he spoke.

“The great Scottish laird then butchered the bishop responsible, and was promptly reinstated as a good Catholic. When his whore died giving birth, he returned to his wife and brought his bastard son back to the castle. This is the man you wish to marry, Amelia—the son of a sinner, who is now most certainly burning in
hell
.”

Her gaze shot to Duncan. “Is this true?”

His eyes were blazing. “Aye.”

Al at once, there was a startling scrape of metal from the back of the room and Angus came striding forward with his sword gripped in both hands. He drew the blade back over his shoulder. He meant to slice Richard in half from head to foot!

Angus crossed the
full
length of the
hall
with the fires of
hell
boiling in his eyes, and Richard stumbled backwards a few steps towards the dais, scrambling in a panic to draw his own sword.

Amelia bolted forward. “No, Angus! Please stop!”

In a lightning flash of movement, Duncan drew a pistol from under his coat, cocked it—and aimed it at Angus.

“Lower your weapon,” Duncan said, his instruction a clear and certain order. “You
’ll
not be
killing
this man today. I told you I’d have my vengeance—and have it I
will
.”

“What about
my
vengeance?” Angus shouted with malice.

“You
’ll
have it, too.”

“When? And how?”

Her uncle—who had backed into the
wall
by the window when Angus charged across the room—offered a reply.

“There
will
be an inquiry into Colonel Bennett’s conduct,” he quickly explained. “We have witnesses. I have spoken to a number of them since I arrived here.”

Richard swung around and glowered at him. “Has everyone gone mad? Surely Your Grace does not mean to suggest that—”

“I mean every word I say, Bennett. Your methods are beyond the pale. You are a stain upon the King’s name.”

But Angus had not yet sheathed his broadsword. He
still
held it over his shoulder, poised to
kill
.

No one moved.

Angus turned to Duncan. “That woman has made you weak.”

She shivered, while Duncan offered no reply. He merely stood with legs braced apart, his pistol
still
aimed between Angus’s eyes.

Amelia could barely breathe.

“Fergus, Gawyn!” Duncan shouted over his shoulder.

“Take Colonel Bennett to the dungeon and lock him up.”

The dungeon? He had a dungeon?

It was only then—when the other two came scurrying across the
hall
to seize Richard and confiscate his weapons—that Angus lowered his sword and began to back away.

Duncan, however, kept his finger on the trigger of his pistol.

“My men
will
not stand for this!” Richard shouted, struggling against Fergus and Gawyn’s hold as they dragged him away. “I
will
have you shot, Moncrieffe!”

Duncan turned the gun on Richard. “Say one more word, Bennett, and I
’ll
splatter your brains
all
over these
wall
s.”

They dragged him from the
hall
while Amelia fought to subdue her anxiety—not only from the shocking nature of her husband’s threat just now but from
all
that had occurred in the past five minutes.

Overshadowing everything, however, was the fact that her future husband had kept his promise to her.