The Seduction of Miss Amelia Bell Read Free

his
     voice. “Why? D’ye want me to sing to ye before ye lay yer head down tonight?”
    “If ye sang like my faither,” Darach countered, “ye would likely have a wife by now,
     or a betrothed…or someone’s warm body to lay yer head down on at night besides that mongrel dog of yers.”
    Edmund smiled—more at Malcolm rounding on his younger cousin. He watched, wearing
     the slightest satisfied grin when Malcolm shoved out his fist and knocked Darach clean
     off his horse.
    Edmund’s shoulders tightened around his ears at the loud thunk of Darach’s arse hitting the dirt.
    The other reason they liked having the youngest Grant along on their excursions was
     because he had something to prove, and there were none better to help him prove it
     than his three companions. They helped make a man out of him.
    Edmund didn’t participate as often as his Scottish kin did, but he enjoyed a bit of
     sport as much as the rest of them did. For now, though, he had a task to plan and
     see through. He would do what had to be done to stop the signing. Of that, he had
     no doubt. Scotland depended on it. According to Lord Lincoln, the duke was away from
     the castle, so this was the best time to go in and take what was his. The four of
     them would have no trouble taking all of Queensberry House down if they had to. The
     challenge of avoiding that scenario was more exciting to Edmund than tossing his sword
     around and hacking off the fingers of men who loved to point them. Thankfully, most
     of the men who rode with him agreed.
    “The lad speaks true.” Luke rode up beside him while Darach leaped back to his feet
     and swore oaths at all three of them.
    “About what?” Edmund asked with a bit of a drawn-out sigh. He knew what his cousin
     meant. They’d had this conversation a hundred times before.
    “When d’ye think ye might start looking fer a wife and quit fighting Scotland’s battles?”
    “Someone needs to do it, Luke. We’re being swallowed up by England. We’re about to
     lose our Parliament. The nobles tell us about the advantages of a political union
     with England, declaring that ’tis in our best interest fer peace and wealth. But ’tis
     the Protestants who will gain security in the realm, and we, the Catholics, who will
     lose all our rights. As MacGregors, have we not lost enough already? Our name is once
     again denied us and forbidden from being spoken. Everything our grandsire fought fer
     has been lost once again.”
    “Aye, I know this, but we’re safe in Camlochlin.”
    “Fer how long?” Edmund asked him. His cousin couldn’t answer. “ ’Tis not just about
     us, Luke. Scotland will suffer. Sir George Lockhart of Carnwath is openly against
     the union and has stated that the whole nation appears against it, but Queensberry
     and Lord Chancellor Seafield and their commissioners—all bought and paid fer—don’t
     listen. Other negotiators to the treaty have observed that ’tis contrary to the inclinations
     of at least three-fourths of the kingdom. But petitions from shires, burghs, and parishes
     have all but been ignored.” He set his determined gaze toward his destination. “Someone
     must make the men in power listen.”
    Keeping his horse at an even pace with Edmund’s, Luke smiled at him. “Ye’re not Scottish.”
    “It matters not. Scotland is my country.” Edmund glanced at him and scowled. “What
     the hell are ye still smiling about?”
    “Ye’re more committed to Scotland and her sovereignty than most men who were born
     here. Fer ye, ’tis a choice to adopt her ways, and ye have. ’Tis an honorable thing,
     Edmund. I’m proud to call ye my kin. Unlike I am about those two.”
    “Och, hell, Luke,” Darach complained, back in the saddle and riding up behind them.
     “Ye’re not goin’ to start in with all yer honor and knightly virtues drivel, are ye?
     Cal’s correct aboot ye.”
    Luke laughed softly, letting Darach pass him. “Ye would do best to learn