The Highland Laird (Lords of the Highlands #8) - Amy Jarecki Page 0,78
Things seemed so hopeless. She didn’t even know where Ciar was, or if he’d been hurt. Or…
“I’ll say this,” Janet continued. “Explain your story, and I give you my oath nothing you say will go beyond these walls unless you grant me permission to discuss anything in particular with Robert.”
The bacon wafted. “May I have a cup of tea?”
“It is most likely cold.”
“That’s all right.”
A china cup tinked as Janet poured and then passed along the cup and saucer. “There’s still a bit of warmth in it.”
Emma took a long drink and rested it on her lap. “So many things happened at Achnacarry, all to which you were witness. Ye ken, Ciar gave me Albert—such a dear and thoughtful gift. Lord, I miss that dog.”
“Where is he now?”
“The soldiers left him on Kerrera. I pray Nettie is feeding him.”
“I’m sure she is.” Janet patted Emma’s arm. “So…as I observed, Dunollie paid you a great deal of attention at Achnacarry.”
“He did.”
“And you enjoyed his kindness.”
May as well have out with the shocking details. “I kissed him—or he kissed me. In the passageway.”
“Whilst we were there?”
“Aye.” Emma finished drinking the contents of her cup and handed it and the saucer to her sister-in-law. “The kiss was rather improvised, and I wasn’t expecting him to, but when he did, my entire body felt like it was floating on a puffy cloud.”
Janet hummed a wee chuckle. “I ken that feeling all too well. But Dunollie should not have taken liberties.”
How could Janet say such a thing? Emma knew something of the liberties Robert had taken when Her Ladyship was but a guest at Glenmoriston, especially kissing—kissing and moaning that could be heard throughout the house. And after Emma’s adventure with Ciar, she now knew why.
“Ciar said the same,” she explained. “He apologized over and over.”
“Is that why he gave you the dog?”
“I don’t think so. He gave me Albert because we bonded instantly, and Dunollie thought he might help me.”
“And thus your affection for the big laird grew.”
“It did.”
“But even then, what prompted you to go alone to Fort William?”
“I wasn’t alone,” Emma hedged. “I was with Sam.”
“A mere lad of sixteen, mind you.”
“He was the only person at Achnacarry who I thought might agree to help me.”
Janet’s chair again groaned with movement. “I would have helped you.”
Emma dragged a pillow across her midriff and hugged it. “I think not. You would have told me to let the men handle it. You even wrote missives to Robert and your da, remember?”
Since Janet hadn’t reacted too overbearingly to the kiss, Emma explained the rest, from meeting with the governor and figuring out the number of steps to the sally port, to the night of the breakout and how they managed to slip away from the dragoons. She even went so far as to explain about Ciar’s hiding place in the cellars of Gylen Castle and how he’d slept on the floor.
At first.
Nonetheless, Emma would carry every intimate and precious detail of their romance with her to the grave. She’d atone for her sins on Judgment Day if she must, though she couldn’t fathom how loving Ciar was a sin.
Those fleeting moments with him were the happiest days of her life. She would treasure them and never allow a soul to utter a word of condemnation about the feelings they shared.
“I cannot believe how strong you are,” Janet said, her voice sincere. “Your tenacity never ceases to surprise me.”
“Before we went to Achnacarry for Kennan and Divana’s wedding, I never thought I’d fall in love. Ye ken I never wanted to leave Glenmoriston because it is so familiar to me. But now I want to run from this place and never return.”
“Oh, dear,” Janet whispered. “We certainly do not want that. You are our sister, and we love you no matter what. You know that, do you not?”
Emma squeezed the pillow. “Love me though I am ruined?”
“Of course. Nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed.” She flung the pillow aside. They still thought of her as a fragile waif—an incomplete person to be hidden away and only whispered about. Emma clenched her fists. “After all I have said, do you not understand? I love him.”
Janet heaved a long sigh, one expressing frustration. “Perhaps I ought to write to Dunollie.”
“What good would that do? Unless we’ve received word of his pardon, he will not be home to intercept a letter.”
“You said he’d gone to Dunbarton to find one of the guilty sentinels?”