Amelia’s eyes snapped back to his face. She loathed this money, but that money, that money was so important. And Jamie, that awful cad. Pretending all this time and all he wanted was...she couldn’t even say it.
“Yes. Yes, I agree.” And she took the pen from Donald’s hand and signed the small piece of paper, her eyes blinded with anger and betrayal once again.
Donald flashed her a toothy grin. “Excellent, my dear. Ye will see me again soon.”
And as quick as he’d come, he was gone, disappeared into the darkness of the castle halls.
Amelia sat down, still in shock, feeling such a mix of emotions, she didn’t know where to begin.
Unwillingly, tears began to slip out her eyes as she realized that horribly yawning truth that was always there, but she’d hoped was different with Jamie. “Men are weak and useless bastards. They care nothing for the feelings of others and they gamble with things most precious!”
And I...I almost gave him my maidenhead. I did in my head a hundred times over. I am just like the rest of the countless women he’s certainly had “experiences” with. How could I have been so blind?
Amelia’s rage and hurt made her whole body shake; it could not withstand the onslaught of betrayal and deceit.
Suddenly the library door opened, and a worried Jamie ran inside, “Amelia! I saw Donald had left the party as well, and I was worried he’d try that dastardly trick again of getting ye alone somewhere.” He knelt down next tae her. “Are ye well, lass?”
His green eyes were filled with concern, as he gazed into her face. He looks so innocent, as if he’s not just done such a wicked thing. He is a skilled actor.
Amelia stood, her anger having reached a head. “No! I am not well, you bastard! And don’t you ever come near me again. I am here to work for your mother not become like the rest of the simpering, wanton lasses who I’m sure have filled your bed. And I will NOT...be a bet!”
She saw guilt written on Jamie’s face, his forehead lined with it, but there was surprise as well. “The...the bet? How did ye ken…?”
“Your cousin told me right here in the library that you and William made a nice little bet about what you would be doing with me or what I would be doing to you. Am I simply a toy to be played with by two immature, bored, dastardly, caddish men? Are my actions and emotions dependent on the roll of a dice? And to think, I lost my virtue to you!”
“Amelia, I’m sorry. ‘Twas a stupid, foolish thing. The result of men thinking too highly of themselves. Please...forgive me.” He reached out to her, and Amelia pulled away.
“No! I’ve had enough of false men who only think of themselves!” She hurried her way to the door in a frenzy.
“What did Donald say tae ye?”
“‘Tis none of your business, Laird Kinnaird!”
And Amelia left, her righteousness as companion, and she stormed out of the library and as far away from Jamie as she could get without going back to England. Jamie was left alone, his mouth open, in shock at the turn of events. Before, they were kissing wantonly in the hallway, their desires warm and urgent. Now, she was leaving, wanting to separate, and he couldn’t help but thinking two things:
What did she mean about all these false men and why do I feel as if the breath has left my body?
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, over breakfast, Amelia and Fiona sat alone at the table. Amelia looked sullen and Fiona asked, “My dear, did ye not like the party? ‘Tis New Year’s Day after all, it should be a happy time!” She smiled.
Amelia looked at Fiona and gave a weak smile. “Oh yes, the party was wonderful, and the dress was so beautiful. I’m sorry; I’m not feeling well this morning. Many things have come to my attention which must be addressed.”
Fiona’s face fell. “Oh, I’m very sorry, dear. Is there anything I may help with? Many times, a listening ear can provide aid.”
Amelia sat, thoughtful for a moment. Should I tell Lady Kinnaird of the exploits of her son? Or would it make it me look more helpless in Jamie’s eyes?
“No, thank you. ‘Tis nothing to concern others with. Athough…”
Fiona responded eagerly. “Please! Tell me what I may do to assist.”
Amelia waited a moment and took a breath. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would appreciate visiting my mother in this time. There are a few things to discuss with her, and a letter wouldn’t suffice.”
Fiona relaxed, afraid it would have been something worse. “Of course! Of course! Please, take the day and return later.”
Amelia smiled, breathing a sigh of relief that her request was not too impertinent or inconvenient.
“Thank you, Fiona!” She rushed around the breakfast table to give Fiona a kiss on the cheek. “You have been my salvation these many weeks.”
With that, Amelia departed for her bedroom to prepare for her departure, and Fiona was left wondering, what does this young girl need salvation from?
* * *
Amelia and Henrietta sat before the fire in Henrietta’s small cottage, Sophie having brought them cups of tea and biscuits freshly baked.
Amelia looked around at her mother’s meager, yet clean surroundings, and her decision to help Donald and get the money felt justified in her mind.
“Mother, what you have done to the space! It feels so homely and cozy. I would not have arranged it any other way.”
Henrietta smiled, pulling her plaid more tightly around her, her cheeks having filled out, and her dark circles disappeared.
She waved a hand in the area to signify insignificance. “‘Twas but a trifle. Sophie assissted me greatly, the dear girl. I was not at all sure how to put each piece of furniture. So, tell me of your time in the castle.”
Amelia paused, but refused to tell her mother about the situation with her father. She placed a smile on her face instead. “We just had the Hogmanay feast, and the whole clan was there. Mother, you should have seen it. They don’t celebrate Christmas, not in their hearts, but they were full of merriment for Hogmanay, and ‘twas a sight to see. Dancing, wine, food as far as the eye could see.”
Henrietta nodded, her eyes shining with happiness, knowing her daughter was safe, well-fed, and entertained. “My dear, it sounds like wonderful fun. Did ye wear a gown?”
Amelia’s face lit up. “Ah, yes! I neglected to tell you. Lady Fiona lent me a beautiful blue gown to wear for the party, and she had her seamstress let out a few of the seams around the bust. It was perfectly lovely, and...and I felt like I was back home again.”
Amelia hesitated, afraid what effect the words would have upon her mother. But, they only gave pleasure.
“Amelia, I wish I could have seen you. I am utterly pleased that the party was a success, and that you were a beauty amidst it. ‘Tis not a surprise,” and Henrietta smiled at her daughter.
She sat back further in her chair and took a bit of biscuit with jam. “Hmm...Mrs. Fletcher often comes by and tells me of the happenings of Brechin and the castle.” She didn’t make eye contact as she asked, “Tell me of this young laird, Jamie.”
Amelia whole body tensed with the remembrance of the last evening. She sighed and looked away towards the hearth. “I’ve told you, Mother.”
Henrietta argued. “You’ve not told me much at all. Only that he’s the laird, that his name is Jamie, and that he is young. I want to know more.”
Amelia paused, refraining from rolling her eyes, and she sat back in her chair to more comfortably form the words that were screaming to exit her brain.
“He’s, he’s...a cad.”
“Amelia! You musn’t say such things!” Henrietta waved a hand in Amelia’s direction, attempting to physically create a change in thought and behavior.
Amelia held her hands up in defense and to portray her point. “He is very charming to be sure, but ‘tis all an act. He’s just concerned with his own affairs.”
Henrietta coughed. “I cannot say that I agree with you, my dear.”
Amelia asked,
“What do you mean, mother?”
Henrietta hesitated, taking a sip of tea before replying. “Well, I’ve had a visit from him this morning.”
“What?!” Amelia’s shock was evident on her face, her eyes wide, the color leaving it. “He…he has come to visit you? For what purpose?”
“Well, he is the landlord, my dear. He was very kind. He came to the door, and I invited him in for some tea. Sophie made us a cup, and he simply wanted to take a look at the cottage’s condition and ask how I fared.”
Amelia felt angry but also something else, something warm, that she didn’t like feeling. She was touched by his gesture.
“How long did he stay?”
“Not for long. I took him around the cottage to show him how we’ve placed all the furniture, and we discussed my plan for an herb garden in the back once the weather warms. He told me he would assist me. And…he invited me to visit the castle whenever I pleased. He felt I would get along famously with his mother.”
Amelia was speechless for a moment, taking it all in. When she spoke again, her voice quieter, not knowing whether to yell or cry or swoon. “And since you do not seem to agree with my opinion of the man, how did you feel about his manner?”
Henrietta smiled over her teacup. “I think he’s lovely, Amelia. Very dashing, stately, and kind. He was ever so polite, and he had only smiles for me and Sophie. I’m sorry, dear, I can’t see this caddishness. But, I suppose, I’ve only spoken to the man for half of an hour.”
Amelia crossed her arms, her resolve to hate him forever and ignore him threatening to melt away in light of this new development. He didn’t have to come and visit her. But, he’s just trying to attempt reconciliation. Hmmm…but why?
“Well, he does have some good qualities, I must admit.” Amelia looked down, worried the memory of his warm kisses would show on her face in front of her mother.
Henrietta touched her arm and Amelia looked up. “He’s quite a handsome man, my dear. And those eyes. I’m surprised you haven’t been swept up by them.”
“Mother!” Amelia started to turn crimson. She stood. “I am not so weak that I am to be affected by a man’s good looks. Or by one act of goodness and charity.”
Henrietta stood as well. “My goodness, you’re turning quite the shade of red, Amelia. Perhaps there is more you’d like to share?” Henrietta wore a sly smile as she looked at a frazzled Amelia.
Amelia turned away to gather her plaid from the hook at the door. “No, nothing more. Come Mother. Let’s go for a lovely walk. You can tell me of your plans for the garden.”
Henrietta chuckled and sighed. “Very well, dear. Let’s wrap up warmly.”
Henrietta didn’t mention Jamie any more as they walked towards the river by the cottage to the little cemetery. Amelia was grateful. They discussed the Scottish weather, Amelia’s poetry, the library at Kinnaird castle, Marianne’s potential visit, and the garden.
The air seemed to still as they came across this lonely part of the land. The cemetery was a squared off enclosure with tall green grasses surrounding the few gray stones. Many of them were hard to read as time had worn away at the names, and now they were simply left to sit on a windy Scottish riverbank for eternity.
In the center was a larger stone, and it looked as though it was new or had been recently cleaned. Amelia had seen it a few times on her walks while living with her mother, but she hadn’t looked closely at the name inscribed on the front. Now, fresh holly branches caught her eye as she wandered past the stone, and it made her pause to read the name: Laird James Kinnaird, honorable man, loving husband, proud father, who fought for his homeland with his dying breath.
Amelia gasped, “It’s Jamie’s father. I never noticed the name before.”
“Ah yes, such a sad story that was. Mrs. Fletcher has told me more about it in her visits. She tells me that Mr. Fletcher cleans the stone and Lady Fiona or Laird Jamie often come to bring flowers or boughs to lay at the base.” I have not seen them yet, or else I would have said hello.”
Amelia had an inner battle going on. Why did Jamie have to be so damned sweet and vulnerable and make my heart skip a beat? Why did he have to visit my mother and invite her to the castle? Why did he have to...make a bet that I would kiss him and make me fall right into his trap?
She kept her lips tight as she told her mother, “Yes, ‘tis a sad tale, for certain. Let’s return to the house, Mother, to look at your garden space.” She grabbed Henrietta’s elbow and turned to leave as she heard two sets of horse’s hooves rumbling nearby towards them.
In a few moments, Mr. Fletcher and Jamie were before them.
* * *
There was a slight pause before Henrietta said, “Mr. Fletcher, lovely to see you as always. And Laird Jamie, back so soon? Welcome back.” She smiled and bowed her head slightly, like the regal lady she truly was. Amelia’s heart warmed at the sight.
“Hello ladies. Miss Amelia, what a pleasure it is tae see ye again. Has been a great many weeks since I saw ye at the cottage.” Mr. Fletcher smiled, his red face beaming.
Amelia drew the plaid around her and smiled warmly at the kind man. “What a pleasure it is to see you again, Mr. Fletcher. And thank you so much for keeping an eye on my dear mother. She says Mrs. Fletcher comes to visit often.”
Mr. Fletcher chuckled as he dismounted. Jamie dismounted silently beside him. “Och, yes, me wife always craves a bit o’ company, especially with a husband such as me.” He laughed heartily, and his large stomach shook.
Jamie finally spoke. “Thank ye, Mrs. Parker, for the welcome, although I am not coming tae visit again. Hello, Miss Parker.” He nodded his head in Amelia’s direction, and she crossed her arms. “Laird Jamie.”
“Mr. Fletcher and I are just returning from Brechin where we’ve purchased a herd of sheep tae begin the sheep farm in the next few months. The ground will be ready come February or March for us tae pull out the rocks and roots. We saw you here, and Mr. Fletcher thought it would be polite tae greet ye.” He glanced quickly at Amelia before returning his gaze to her mother’s face.
Henrietta looked over at Amelia before turning back to Jamie and replying, “Well, doesn’t that sound exciting? And who will shepherd the woolen beasts?”
Jamie rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Mr. Fletcher. “We’ve been looking to hire shepherds from in town who are traveling, looking for work, but we’ve not had much success, I’m afraid. There was an old man who was a shepherd, but only one, and his age may be rough on him in this hilly area we’ve set aside for the pasture.”
Amelia coughed to make her presence known. “Why don’t you hire him, and then send him a few young people from the surrounding farms to learn the trade? That way, you don’t need to add more people to the Kinnaird land, which will take money away from the farmers, and you can grow the trade from within.”
Mr. Fletcher slapped his knee and laughed in joviality. “By God, that’s a good idea Laird Jamie. I know the widow Mrs. Kinnaird has 6 young boys, and while they help her run the farm, she could allow one or two of them tae learn the new trade. And they won’t be far from home. What say ye?”
Jamie smiled at Henrietta and Amelia, and Amelia felt that familiar tingle, and she shoved it away. “Why yes, that’s brilliant, Amelia. I mean Miss Parker. I will speak tae the widow Kinnaird today. Come Fletcher, we ought tae send word tae the old shepherd afore he heads tae the next town.”
“Aye,” Mr. Fletcher replied, and mounted his horse again. “Goodbye, Mrs. Parker. I will be back tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fletcher. Yes, I have the money for you. And goodbye, Laird Jamie.”
“Miss Parker, would ye like tae return with me tae the castle?” Jamie pinned her with his green gaze, and just for a moment, Amelia felt like it was only them two in the whole world.
Chapter Sixteen
Amelia reined in her daydreams and shook her head. “No, thank you. I will walk by myself as always.” And she said goodbye to Mr. Fletcher and began
to walk away.
Henrietta stopped her by placing a hand on her arm, and said with a worried glance, “My dear, I think it would be best if you rode back with him. She looked up. “I do believe snow will be on its way, and I don’t want to be worrying about you getting back to the castle safely.”
Amelia thought she saw the corners of her mother’s mouth turned up in a smile, but she didn’t want to risk the possibility of upsetting her mother, especially with the truth of her father’s debt still ringing in the corners of her mind.
“All right, mother. So you won’t worry, I will ride with him.”
Capturing The Highlander's Heart (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 1) Page 12