“Aye, of course! Why donnae ye write yer letter, and I’ll help yer lovely mother tae get some food for the evening.” And Mrs. Fletcher took her basket into the kitchen.
Amelia hurried away to find something, anything, to write on to send her letter. She had butterflies in her stomach. This could be it! Then, we won’t have to starve, and we can help ourselves out of this mess. Perhaps my mother will gain some comfort. And I’ll be able to save for my father’s return! She eventually spied the small bag her and her mother brought with them from England--their only possessions. Her notebook of poems was inside as well as her ink and a pen. She tore out a page and thought about how to proceed with dignity and respect. She was to be a working woman, but she wanted it to be clear that she would be a well-educated companion for Lady Kinnaird.
Dear Lady Kinnaird,
I am writing in response to your advertisement for a companion...
Chapter Four
“So, has Fiona had a reply tae her companion posting?” William asked as he stared at his cards. Jamie leaned back comfortably in the armchair and took a swig of ale. Raucous laughter filled the small tavern in the forbidden section of Brechin. Thick-bearded men with dirt on their hands and soiled waistcoats were sitting at long wooden tables, drinking, gambling, surely spending their coin on women rather than giving it to their families. Young women roamed around the tables and chairs with sly smiles until someone grabbed them onto their lap, and they’d conduct their nightly business.
“Aye, she’s heard. And the new lass will be coming by tomorrow, most likely an old Sassenach, coming tae educate us about her English ways.” He had warmed to the companion idea, but inside, he hoped it was some mousy, school mistress-type woman who would stay out of his way.
William joked, “Yer ma’s an Englishwoman herself, ye remember. But maybe ye’ll get lucky, and ‘twill be a luscious young treat who would be more than willing tae spend the evenings in yer bed.”
Jamie laughed and played his hand. “Aye, ye know better than anyone, my friend, how much trouble a woman can be the closer she is tae ye, and even more trouble if she’s a Sassenach one. Donnae tell me ma. She’s the only Sassenach that has me heart.”
William leaned back, his arms behind his head, still smiling. “Aye, yer right, lad.” He laid down his cards. “Now, I fold. Ye take the winnings. I’m going tae drink meself intae a stupor.”
Jamie laughed and hailed a barmaid for two more pints of ale. He’d been so busy lately, it had been an age since he and his friend focused simply on attending to their own pleasures. It felt good, and it relaxed him. But they cut an odd picture in the tavern as two clean, Scottish, wealthy gentlemen amongst the townsfolk of Brechin. Many a young woman’s eye had turned to them when they first entered.
“And so, gentlemen, what be yer pleasure this evenin’?” A young woman, face covered in makeup, seductively approached Jamie and William as they sat at the card table, Jamie collecting his gambling winnings in his hands.
“Aye, but I wouldn’t mind takin’ a bite outtae ye, lassie,” laughed William and pulled the woman to his lap. She giggled as William caressed her backside, and he took a sip of ale.
“Why don’t we take a break, lad? I’ve got me business tae attend tae.” William’s eyes remained fixed on the woman’s face as he led her away.
Women were always fawning over William with his strong arms and open smile. But women were always staring intently at Jamie, seemingly afraid to approach him. He was tall and intimidating with a large sprawling chest and a narrow waist. With his dark brown hair pulled back, and the shade of scruff on his face, he painted an exotic picture compared to the full Scottish lads with their fiery hair that filled these taverns. But, despite his half-English blood, he kept his green eyes, green as the Scottish hills, from his father, and they drew every woman’s attention.
As he sat back and drank his ale, he scanned the dark room and made eye contact with a few painted women, but he wasn’t sure if he had the energy for a romp that evening. What would William do? He laughed to himself.
After a few minutes, he saw a young blond woman approach him slowly with full red lips, breasts half pouring out the top of her bodice. He smiled and nodded. Maybe he did have the energy after all…
* * *
Amelia sat at the table in the sitting room, folding and unfolding the letter she’d received from Lady Kinnaird. She’d been accepted, and Lady Kinnaird would like to meet her that morning. She was excited, but she knew she couldn’t get her hopes too high. Perhaps the pay wouldn’t be enough to save for her father’s release from gaol.
It had been a week since Amelia and Henrietta had moved into the stone cottage, and what a change a week had made. Despite the drastic change of environment, she and her mother found themselves getting comfortable. Mrs. Fletcher was as good as her word and had sent a young woman named Sophie from the village to assist them with filling the pantry and cooking and a bit of cleaning. Amelia herself had dusted and scrubbed until the cottage was comfortable enough for a lady.
Despite the lack of furniture, Amelia had tried to arrange it in a pleasant style where her mother could enjoy the morning sun and write her letters. But, the fire was always to be going. Once, she’d forgotten to keep feeding it before bed, and she and her mother half froze to death in their bed.
Amelia sipped the tea she’d been given by Sophie that morning. Henrietta sat beside her at the table Amelia had arranged by the window.
“Amelia, you have done such wonderful things here. I’m starting to feel like I’m home. And I know that you will make the most perfect companion. You’re sweet, kind, intelligent, and brave. She will love you.”
“But what if she makes me stay with her in the castle? You’ll be all alone.” Amelia’s heart sank with this potential problem. Could she leave her mother to herself?
“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do what you must for Lady Kinnaird. I have enough to occupy me. I’m not as weak as you think, my daughter. I believe I’ll take up gardening when the weather warms.” Henrietta smiled over her teacup. “And, of course, I have Sophie to help me where I need it. But, if it would be possible, could you bring me a book or two when you visit again?”
Amelia heartily agreed and left her cup on the table and went to double check her reflection in the mirror. She wanted to appear strong and capable. Since their arrival, her appearance had changed greatly. Finally, the grime and dirt that clung to both of them after their journey had disappeared, and she looked less pale than she had before, but the worry still clung to her eyes as if it wouldn’t let go until all was resolved.
But her mother’s encouragement soothed her. She even felt excited at the chance to meet the lady of a castle and perhaps engage in healthy, intelligent conversations.
She’d chosen her best dress for the day, simple, but green and pretty, and also thick and warm. Her vanity pricked at her. She didn’t want Lady Kinnaird to know that she’d fallen from grace. So, she’d dressed appropriately but not overmuch.
The crunch of carriage wheels on gravel made her turn her head toward the door.
“Mother, I think Mr. Fletcher has arrived!”
“Enjoy, my dear! Here, take your poetry book with you. Write as much as you can.”
Henrietta smiled, but her eyes filled with tears.
“Mother, will you be all right without me?” Amelia held Henrietta’s hands in her own.
“Oh, of course, my dear. Now, you go, and send me word that all is well.”
Amelia kissed her mother on the cheek, and then took her book and bag and opened the door, a wave of cold air blowing through the house. She shivered.
But, it was not Mr. Fletcher that greeted her on the other side.
A young, dirty boy, with hardly a bit of manners, stood by the carriage and spit on the ground near her feet as he asked her, “Aye, are ye the Parker woman? Fletcher tells me I’m tae collect ye and take ye tae the castle.”
“Ah, yes, I’m Amelia Parker.”
Amelia turned back to her mother and smiled. Henrietta waved. Then, Amelia climbed up next to the boy on the driver’s seat, wrapped herself in the woolen blanket provided, and they left, the stone cottage getting smaller and smaller and the green hills and fields expanding.
Amelia opened her poetry book to read over her last few lines. Each day in the past week she’d been drawn outdoors by the tragic beauty of the landscape and had been attempting to pen it into words.
“Green hills that mirror the movement of my soul…” She read aloud, but then made a scoffing sound in her throat. “Ugh, that’s not good at all. Why can I not express what I want?”
She looked up, ready to feel again the beautiful pang the surrounding wilds gave her, hoping to glean inspiration from their freshness. While they rode along, she turned her eyes from side to side, taking in her new environment.
She’d always been a city girl, and London was a true city. Busy, dirty, always moving, always scheming, and so, she didn’t understand this calmness and isolation. The hills simply stood and looked on at the river and at the sea, and the fields sat quietly at attention. A cold breeze came and touched her cheek, and she felt as though it was whispering some message to her that she couldn’t understand. The fields and hills knew, but she did not. Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t create the poem she wanted. She didn’t speak the language of the land.
* * *
Fiona rung her hands in impatience, pacing from side to side in the main room of the castle. “Oh, will they never arrive?” Lady Kinnaird was dressed casually but primly with a dark gray dress and buttons down the front of her bodice. Her brown hair was pulled tightly back, and she stood with her back straight.
William came by her side, trying to offer her tea once again. “Milady, please drink it. It will calm ye.”
Fiona accepted the cup and sipped it carefully. “Och, and where is James? He hasn’t the foresight to think his mother would like him to meet her new companion?”
William smiled. Fiona only used Jamie’s Christian name when she was upset with him. He could tell she was tense.
“Milady, Jamie was out late last evenin’, and he will be on his way, I’m sure. I couldn’t find him when I’d left.”
Fiona eyed him angrily. “And you, William Fraser, both of you, heading out into the dark sectors of Brechin for women and nightly pleasures. Jamie’s father would be ashamed.” She paused and waved her hand in the air. “Och, but I suppose it’s all until you both find the right women.”
William laughed and put his hands up in defense, “I donae think any woman would be happy with the likes of me, and I think Jamie’s content with himself for the moment. Women are nothin’ but trouble.”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed, and William swallowed hard and stammered, “Forgive me, Lady Fiona, I was only jokin’.”
She smiled and pointed her finger at him, “Och, you just wait and see William Fraser. You will meet your match soon enough as my Jamie will meet his. If you both weren’t too stubborn to see it. It’s men that are the trouble, but they like to think well of themselves.” The corners of her mouth turned up, and she continued pacing after giving William the dressing-down he deserved.
William sat at a wooden bench and petted Prince Charlie. He grabbed bread from the table and ate slowly. He wasn’t worried about Jamie, and he wasn’t worried about who the companion would turn out to be. He was just excited to see whether or not his prediction would be true. Luscious treat? Or haggard schoolmistress? Whoever it might be, he would find reason to poke fun at Jamie’s discomfort.
* * *
After 20 minutes of rumbling past farms and through rocky glens, Amelia could see Kinnaird castle up ahead. She gasped and covered her mouth. It was like something from a fairytale. Stone walls rose high with pointed turrets and guard towers. Windows gleamed in the morning sun, and a lush, dense forest surrounded the castle, as if wrapping it in a protective blanket.
“Good lord!” She whispered to herself, and her eyes were wide with pleasure.
“Eh?” The boy said. “Och, that be the laird’s castle and mighty it once was, ‘til yer English came and stole it from them.”
“Excuse me, but I would never condone such treatment as stealing land.” She turned away from him, indignant, but a wave of concern suddenly flowed in. What if the Kinnaird family felt the same way as he did? She didn’t mention in her letter that she was English. What if they turned her away and she’d be right back where she started? Amelia’s stomach clenched, and she gripped her hands around the bench seat, trying to hold on to her seat and her breakfast.
They rode up the drive and outside the main wrought-iron gate, the boy stopped. He said nothing and didn’t move. Amelia realized it must be his signal to get down, and so she did, grabbing her bag along the way. But, as she came down her skirt caught on the carriage’s loose edge, and she tripped forward onto the grass, her bag spilling out, and her hair pins loosening, sending pieces of blond hair flying.
The boy laughed heartily and didn’t even check to see if she was all right before clicking the horses to head on their way. “Ye bloody deserve it, Sassenach!”
Amelia stayed on her knees, mentally checking to see if she was all right. She threw an angry glance towards the back of the boy’s head, hoping he could sense her ire. She yelled out, “Insolent boy! You’re hardly a gentleman!” hoping her anger made it all the way to him, but she doubted it made any impression.
She stood up, resolving to appear calm and collected before her new employer. She adjusted her hair pins as best she could and dusted off her dress. She bent down again to pick up her small bag of items, poetry book included.
She smiled, “I know such a place will give me the poetical inspiration I’ve been needing. God’s teeth, but it’s beautiful.” Once she collected all her things and put them in the bag, she took a deep breath of the cold winter air and stood up quickly, just in time to bash into something tall and hard.
Chapter Five
It took her a moment to realize it was a person she’d run into. Her hair pins loosened again, and her hair was almost fully out of place. “Damnation!” she said, without thought of propriety. Warm strong arms surrounded her to hold her steady. She was momentarily grateful for the relief from the cold winds. She slowly turned her head to look into the face of her obstacle, and she fell into two pools of green, the most beautiful color she’d ever seen in the world. Her lips parted slightly as she fell under a spell. But then, the obstacle spoke with a thick yet slurred Scottish brogue.
“Aye, ye naughty lass, didn’t get enough last night did ye, and following me back in the morning for more?” A wide smile spread across his face and Amelia noticed perfectly straight, white teeth. But, then she smelled a mixture of pipe smoke, whiskey, and ale. It brought her mind to her father’s smell of late, returning so often the next morning from his nightly endeavors. Her stomach soured at the memory, and she tried to push against his hard chest. My God, was this man made of stone? Before she could get lost in his eyes again, a hand came around her waist and took a handful of her backside. “Aye, but yer a cheeky woman. I can’t say I’ll be as good as last night, but I’ll give it a good try.”
Amelia gasped and slapped the man hard and loud. He winced and let her go.
“Excuse me, sir, but I am not whoever you were with last night! I am no painted tart! I am Amelia Parker, coming to be Lady Kinnaird’s companion. Please do not be so forward with me!”
Jamie stood back, a look of surprise on his face as he rubbed his sore cheek. But then, that wicked smile returned. “Och yes, I’ve heard about yer arrival. And yer a Sassenach as well. Lady Kinnaird will be happy about that particular bit of information. My apologies, Miss Parker, for the mistaken identity.” He bowed obsequi
ously.
Jamie looked Amelia up and down. “But ye’ll have tae forgive me the confusion. What with yer hair pins all askew and hair flying around yer face and grass-stained dress, I didn’t take ye tae be a companion. Well at least not the kind that caters tae wealthy ladies.” He winked.
Amelia was aghast. She looked down at her dress to find two grass stains where her knees had touched the ground as she’d fallen. Anger and embarrassment filled her, and she could feel the redness creeping up her neck.
“Heavens! Am I to be met with two such unruly and impertinent young men this morning? How dare you mention a woman’s appearance in such a rude manner? But if that’s to be the order of the day, then, sir, I must mention that you reek of whiskey, ale, and smoke, no doubt the result of your dastardly nightly deeds. You haven’t the manners, words, or appearance of any sort of gentleman!”
Capturing The Highlander's Heart (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 1) Page 3