They were soon close to the bothy, and it was Amelia who arrived there first. Turning her horse, which reared up a little on its hind legs, she was laughing as Feargan came galloping up behind her.
“I told you I would win,” she said, jumping down from the horse’s back and striding through the heather towards the little stone hut with its thatched roof and wooden door.
“Ye see, it’s just a bothy, nothin’ very interestin’ unless ye like little hovels,” Feargan said, following her towards the door.
“I think it’s rather charming,” she said, stooping down and pulling open the door.
Inside, the bothy was sparsely furnished, two unmade beds on either wall and a small hearth, which was lain as if for a fire, though the wood appeared damp. There was a bucket to one side and several crudely made bowls laid out on a little table, as though the place was awaiting its next occupants.
“Now, this would be an ideal place to escape from Philip and his men, don’t you think?” Amelia said, seating herself on one of the stools by the hearth.
“I think ye are safer at the castle,” Feargan replied, laughing.
“Yes, but isn’t this place far quieter? More secluded? No one would ever know we were here or disturb us,” she said, smiling at him.
Feargan took a seat next to her and she took his hand in hers, running her fingers along his arm, her eyes cast downwards as a blush appeared on her face.
“Aye, it… has its merits,” Feargan said.
Amelia now looked up and their eyes met across the table, their hands clasped together. Feargan could feel his breath quickening and he ran his tongue across his lips, smiling a little at her, as she leant forward.
“We daenae have to…” he began, but his words were cut short as she kissed him, the stool falling behind her, as she stood leaning over him, her arms around his shoulders.
He clasped her to him, his hands running across her body, holding her close, as their lips searched one another. His passion was rising, and he pulled her down towards him, their bodies entwining, as he clasped her in his arms.
She was breathing heavily now, her tunic loosened, as he led her to the little bed beneath the window. Kissing her once again, as his own tunic fell to the floor, exposing his chest. His arms were strong and shoulders broad and he clasped her to him, causing her to shudder with pleasure. He could not resist her beauty, her passion, the way she felt and tasted and so he gave into his desires.
She had never felt in such a way before, the innocence of the past now gone. How tenderly he held her, as she explored his body. His gentle kiss and the way his hands caressed every part of her body—she had never felt such a thing before, but it delighted her and filled her with such longing for him as to be almost unbearable.
There, in the little bothy, they made love, their bodies as one, his hands upon her breasts, gently kissing every part of her body, as she let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. He held her close to him, delighting in every part of her body, its silky-smooth skin and gentleness of her touch.
His kiss was upon her breasts, his tongue encircling them as his hand ran along her leg. She had never experienced such a thing before and as his fingers entered her she winced a little, shuddering under his touch.
“Are ye all right, lass?” he said, looking up at her breathlessly.
“Yes, I just … I had never imagined it to be like this,” she said, her eyes wide, as he gently continued to explore her body.
Gently, he raised himself up onto her, his tongue circling her nipples and she groaned, as the head of his member pushed inside her. The intensity caused her to gasp, it was more than she had ever imagined and she let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as he gently entered her.
“I am nae hurtin’ ye am I?” he said, as he pushed further inside her, but she could only gasp for breath and pull him further towards her, as each let out a shuddering cry.
She kissed him again and again, their passion knowing no bounds as each found fulfilment in the other. He was riding her now, his body arching in and out and suddenly the strangest sensation filled her, like a great climax. She let out a cry and as his seed exploded inside her, he too shuddered, as together they collapsed onto the little bed.
The feelings of both their hearts and the passions of both their souls were now realized and as they held one another, it seemed as though all the troubles in the world had melted away and all that mattered was the moment they now shared.
His seed was running down her legs and both were breathless. It was as though a tension had been released and as he held her, Amelia could not help but feel a sense of guilt for what had just transpired.
* * *
“Are ye all right, Amelia?” Feargan whispered softly, as he held her closely to him.
They had lain together for some time, their bodies entwined, a sheet pulled over them to keep out the chill of the air, now that their passions had quelled.
“Yes,” she said, turning to him and placing her head upon his chest, her arms around his shoulders.
He kissed her gently on the forehead, running his hand down her back, and pulling her close once more.
“I… daenae mean for this to happen in this way,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed.
“Nor I,” she replied, and taking up the sheet she covered her modesty as she pulled on her tunic.
“We … perhaps … perhaps we should return to the castle, as even at this time of year there is a chance of snow up on the high moors and I daenae want us to be caught out here overnight,” Feargan said.
“No, perhaps… perhaps it was a silly fancy of mine to want to come out here to this odd place. It is just a bothy, as you say,” she replied, wrapping her cloak around herself as Feargan struggled into his tunic, blushing as he did so.
“We shall be back by nightfall, fear not, and we… we need speak nay more of this, if… if ye dae nae wish to,” Feargan said.
“Come, let’s go. I am sure the horses are ready for their rest, too,” she said, opening the bothy door and striding out into the cool moorland air.
They rode back to the castle in silence, Feargan at times attempting to break the awkwardness of the situation and failing to do so, as Amelia fixed her gaze resolutely ahead. It was just beginning to get dark as they arrived at the gates of the castle at Loch Beira. Feargan helped Amelia down from her horse as the stable boy ran out to see to the animals.
“Perhaps a little supper now, are ye hungry?” Feargan asked her.
“No, I shall go to my chambers and rest, I think. Goodnight, Galbreth,” she replied, and not waiting for his response she made her way inside, leaving Feargan somewhat confused.
Dejectedly, he made his way into the keep, and sat on a chair before the fire, calling for a whisky to be brought to him. At length his uncle appeared, seating himself opposite the Laird, waiting for him to speak.
“What is it that ails ye, Feargan Galbreth, Laird of Loch Beira?” his uncle said, smiling at his nephew.
“Nothing, Uncle,” Feargan replied, drinking deeply from his glass of malt.
“Daenae give me that. Ye left here this morning with Amelia and ye were both in the happiest of moods. Now, ye sit here alone whilst I hear her pacing in her chambers as I pass by. The lass has not even had her supper and ye are here… drinking yers,” Alexander said, shaking his head.
“Why is all this so complicated?” Feargan suddenly said, slamming down his glass and startling the dogs at his feet.
“Ye mean yer relationship with Amelia? Has something happened, lad? Ye and she are…?” Alexander said.
“I daenae ken, we… we shared an intimate moment today, in the bothy up on the moorlands, but she seems different now, as though she regretted it,” Feargan replied.
At these words Alexander threw back his head and laughed, and then poured himself a glass of whisky before settling back in his chair to make his response.
“The bothy on the moorlands, below Cordrig? Ye are nae the first man to make cord
ial relations in that place. Yer father was nae adverse to such things—I caught him there myself, once,” Alexander said, shaking his head. “Come now, lad, sometimes a lass is regretful after such things. It daenae mean that ye and she cannae be together. Give her some time, she had been through a lot, and unless ye have forgotten, she is still engaged to be married.”
“Aye, to a man who would have her kidnapped and held to ransom. That is some betrothal, isn’t it?” Feargan said, angrily.
“I am only telling ye the facts, lad. Lady Amelia Burton, as pretty as she is, and as charming as she is, comes with a past. A past ye must accept if ye are to court her. She must have feelings for ye, after all, ye did rescue her from the clutches of that vile man. But sometimes our feelings can be confused, and we can be mixed up as to what we want. She will come around and whilst she does, I suggest that ye and I continue to share this excellent malt, what dae ye say?” Alexander said, raising his glass to Feargan, who could not help but smile.
“I say that it is an excellent idea, Uncle, ye are always so full of them,” Feargan replied. Raising his own glass, he proposed a toast, to absent lasses.
17
Amelia spent the next few days avoiding Feargan. The incident in the bothy had unsettled her. Not because she had not enjoyed it, nor found Feargan attractive, quite the opposite in fact, but because of what such an act now meant for the future. Whether she liked it or not, Amelia was engaged to be married to Lord Torbay and there was no doubt in her mind that such an engagement would not be easy to extract herself from.
She had been horrified to think of what lengths he had been prepared to go, in order to remove her from Feargan’s influence. The kidnap had been a terrifying ordeal at the hands of those three wicked men and if it had not been for Feargan rescuing her, things could have been far worse. She felt safe with Feargan and here, amongst the moors and heather of Scotland, the cares of life in the south seemed far away.
She had come here with nothing and was wearing the clothes of one of the ladies married to a noble of the clan. All the finery and good things she had in Paris and Cumberland were gone. But she felt happy here, except for that pressing sense of duty towards the cause of the Jacobites and to her father, who had been so good to her since her dear mother had passed away.
But could she really break off her engagement to Lord Torbay? Her father was growing old and it was clear that Lord Torbay exerted much influence over him. There was also her sister to think of and right now she desired nothing more than the presence and advice of Catherine, the one person she knew she could trust above all others.
It was four days after she and Feargan had ridden out to the bothy. She could still feel his arms around her and the gentle touch of his hand, the way he kissed her. It had been gentle and filled with love, nothing like Philip, who, despite his claims to honor and decency, had treated her so badly. His kiss was a thing to be endured, whilst Feargan’s was to be savored. Should she simply give in and declare her love for him? Forget the consequences of scandal and poverty? She would receive no dowry and be cast from polite society if she forfeited her betrothal but the prospect of a lifetime at Philip’s side was almost too much to bear.
She knew it was a question weighing upon his mind, too, as each offered polite words and courteous actions towards the other, never speaking of that which was really on their hearts. Now they sat awkwardly at dinner, as Alexander Galbreth attempted to make conversation.
“Did ye see the stags running down from the heather earlier today? A great herd of them—I counted forty at least,” he said, digging into a piece of one of the less fortunate animals, “and the meat is excellent, is it nae?”
“Aye, it is,” Feargan replied, not looking up from his own plate, around which he was pushing his dinner with little interest.
“And ye, lass, have ye ridden out upon the heather? Or taken a walk along the loch side, perhaps? It is a pretty spot, is it nae?” Alexander said, turning to Amelia, who also failed to meet his eyes.
“It is, yes, very pretty,” she replied, lost in thought, as she shot a glance towards Feargan, whose head remained resolutely bowed.
“And nay word yet of the Bonnie Prince? What does the Stuart King think he is doing? I thought ye said he wouldnae listen to reason and was intent on launchin’ his uprisin’ come what may? As far as I can tell, the Jacobite cause is dyin’ out,” Alexander continued, turning once again to Feargan, who sighed.
“The support is hidden, Uncle, ye ken that. If the Bonnie Prince lands, then there shall be men who will rally to his banner. There may be any number of reasons why he has nae yet landed. I have nay doubt he will, though, in his own good time,” Feargan said, pushing away his plate and slumping back in his chair.
Alexander shook his head, as though he had no time for his Godson’s moods and turned again to Amelia, who had also laid aside her knife and fork.
“Any word from yer father, lass? The Earl of Workington is a staunch Jacobite, is he nae? Surely he must know of the Bonnie Prince’s plans?” Alexander said.
“I am not privy to such things,” Amelia replied. “My father does not discuss politics with me, nor with my sister. I am content to simply live in peace, just as I hope we all are.”
Alexander shook his head and rose from the table.
“It seems I am to get little conversation at me own table tonight, and so I shall retire to me bed. Goodnight to ye both,” he said, and left them alone. A silence descended upon the dining room, as both Feargan and Amelia avoided one another’s gaze.
It was dark outside, and a wind had picked up, sweeping around the castle walls and whistling eerily above, breaking the silence, as the fire in the hearth spluttered. Rain had begun to fall, too, its steady pitter-patter sounding like a gentle tapping at every window. It was as though the moorlands and heather of that lonely place were calling them from the warmth of the fireside.
Feargan pushed back his chair and stood, approached the hearth and rubbed his hands in front of the flames.
“Ye are happy here, I hope,” he said, his back turned to Amelia, who still sat at the table.
“I am, yes, though I miss my sister dearly,” Amelia replied, grateful to Feargan for breaking the silence.
“Why nae invite her to stay with us? She would be good company for ye, and it would be safer for her here than at Workington Hall. I dread to think what wicked schemes Lord Torbay might dream up as punishment against her and yer faither if they remain there much longer,” Feargan replied, turning now to Amelia, with a grave expression on his face.
“I would like that. We have never been separated for so long and it pains my heart to not have her at my side. We are the closest of friends, not just sisters,” Amelia replied, smiling at Feargan, who nodded.
“Send a letter to her, tell her to come just as soon as she is able to. It was she who so desperately wished to come here anyway,” he said. “It would be good for ye, but what of yer faither?”
“Thank you, Feargan, I shall write to her this very evening and ask one of the men to deliver the letter to the mail coach in the morning. She would be here by next week if all is well there. As for my father, well, he is stronger than one might think,” she replied, and bidding him goodnight she left the dining room and made her way through the castle.
The corridors were dark, lit only by a few meagre candles and outside the wind was now howling. A storm was blowing up around the glen. But Amelia’s chambers were warm and snug, lit by a fire in the hearth, which was burning merrily as she let herself in. Candles had been placed around the room and the curtains drawn across the window to keep out the draughts. She settled herself in a chair by the table, and taking quill and paper, she began to write to Catherine, revealing the innermost thoughts of her heart.
“My dearest Catherine, what a lot I have to tell you, but I write first and foremost to invite you, no implore you, to come here to Loch Beira and stay with us. I have missed you so very terribly and there have been ever so many
instances in these past days and weeks that I have longed for your counsel and presence at my side. Feargan is in full agreement and has suggested that you come at once, if only for your safety. I have worried about you so very much and I hope that Philip has not treated you in any sort of beastly manner, I could not bear to think of you at his mercy, though I know you to be strong.”
“Since arriving here, I have found myself torn between a sense of duty and the feelings of my heart. I was truly terrified by my ordeal at the hands of those wicked men and the kindness and gentleness of Feargan has been unmatched by any man I have ever known. He and I have grown closer, far closer than was proper, but though such intimacies were delightful I know that they would cause such scandal if revealed. It is too much to even consider.”
“I think of you and Father and wonder whether I must endure marriage to Philip if only for your sakes. I do not say that to court pity, but rather because I know it is for the best for us all. Yet I cannot banish the feelings in my heart, feelings which have arisen so strongly, as to be almost overwhelming. Dear Catherine, you must come at once, if only to relieve my melancholy over this whole sorry affair and so that I can be the sister you deserve. Please assure Father of my love and affection and on no account reveal the contents of this letter to anyone. I hope I shall see you very soon and I remain ever your loving sister, Amelia.”
Highlander's Hidden Destiny (Steamy Scottish Historical) Page 14