In that instant, the dear sweet Amelia had forgotten something that could be equally as potent to her implied interpretation. Maybe, the loss of a loved one is powerful enough to end a violent feud like the one the Montague and the Capulet shared. If love was so formidable, then why was the kiss with Jonathan so wrong?
“I will not betray my country and my family. I have responsibilities, and I am honor bound to make sure I fulfill them,” continued Amelia with conviction written right across her face.
“But…”
“No buts, Anna.” Amelia got to her feet and walked over to the bed. “Help me undress, if you please, Anna.”
“Amelia, does that mean you will be returning to Canada and then to England?” asked Anna, starting to unfasten her mistress’s dress.
“Yes, it does. Jonathan said we would be leaving in a few days time once he has made the arrangements. After that, I go to my sister’s and then home…to England.”
Anna shivered. She continued to work in silence. By the time she slid Amelia’s nightdress over her body, she had made up her mind. “I will, of course, escort you,” she said, not really sharing the conviction her words conveyed.
Amelia turned around slowly. “I am most grateful, Anna, but you do not have to do that. I will be quite all right on my own. And besides, you have a betrothed in Jake now.”
“I ken. However, like ye, I have my duties to my mistress. And I will not let ye down when ye need me the most.” She lifted her chin up proudly in a gesture that did not invite further argument.
“Oh, darling Anna…what would I do without you,” said Amelia embracing her. “You don’t have to do this. I will not have it. My sad situation does not warrant the birth of another one just as sad.”
“I do, and that is the final word on the matter.” Anna held onto her for dear life. She would never leave Amelia after all of the kindness she had shown her. Anna knew what some mistresses were like and Amelia had been a godsend. They were soul mates in the way women could – a bond forged by the universe and unbreakable in its nature.
“Until the day we leave, I shall remain in these chambers. I cannot face him – not now. He has such power over me. I don’t know if I’d be able to resist him.”
Anna only nodded as she laid Amelia to bed. They said their goodnights. Anna dreaded the prospect of facing Jake the following day. He would not be best pleased to find out that his betrothed was leaving for God only knew how long. Before she entered her room, she heard the faint sound of raucous banter from downstairs – the gentlemen are in their cups, she thought as she entered her chambers.
It was a trying ordeal to find the cozy encirclement of sweet slumber. A constant throbbing pain resided inside of her. Amelia felt both relieved to finally be going home and deep melancholy that she might never see Fair Weather Heaths’ and Jonathan again. The worst of it though, was that she had dragged the dearest person in the world with her – Anna had decided to join her on her travels.
Allowing her to do so was wrong. However, Amelia also knew that Anna would not broach argument. When she had made her mind up, there was no turning back. If only there was a way to convince her that her place was with her man. This thought only brought on the question of where her place was – was it with Airy Templeton French as her family dictated? Or…
The last wakeful thought Amelia had was of Jonathan. His face had miraculously appeared and kissed her good night before she gradually drifted off to sleep. The realms of nothingness that awaited her were a welcome respite after the cerebral bashing to which she had been subjected. A busy mind could offer Amelia only one thing this night, a fitful and angry sleep.
Chapter 15
The Voyage North
En Route to Canada, United States of America, March 1814
True to her word, Amelia had not left her room once, during the final days of her sojourn at Fair Weather Heaths’. Jonathan had tried to see her. She had heard his stentorian voice right at her door on a few occasions, but Anna, her gatekeeper, had been resolute in her refusals. Like the true gentleman he was, Jonathan had relented in the end, deciding to leave Amelia be.
The day she left, he had not been there to say his farewells as she had bidden him to in writing the night before. However, he had done his utmost to make her travel a comfortable one. Jonathan had placed his best carriage at their disposal, his finest horses and a team of his most trustworthy slaves to guard them.
Jonathan was long gone now. It was the eighth day on the road. Already, they had passed New York and they were en route inland in the direction of Lake Champlain, bordering the state of Vermont, which would take a few more days, if not more – that was according to Jake, who led the party.
They had encountered other travelers with whom words were shared. American militiamen had given them information and warnings concerning the war that still raged on despite their preoccupation with other things less martial. Word was about that the British harassed American positions close to the frontier. It was a game of give and take with both antagonists advancing and retreating. However, their message had always been the same: stay away if you value your lives.
Most nights Amelia, Anna and Jake had spent in the inns in the villages close to their route. As of late, these had gotten somewhat sparing as the proof of war claimed the land the closer they got to Canada. People were afraid, and doors were closed as confusion and panic became more and more apparent.
The further Amelia got from Fair Weather Heaths’, the more she thought of Jonathan. The first day had been easy. Her desire for flight and the belief in her duty to her family and country had given her the strength she needed to endure. At night, sleep had come easily, aided by the ordeals of the day – she had been exhausted.
The second day, those same strengths and beliefs that had birthed the folly of her parting from Virginia and the man she loved had started to wane as the first turnpike had matured into the second. The notion that she was forever away truly started to sink in. That very same night, his face had been a constant companion in her dreams and the memory of his touch a boon and a curse all at once.
The constant sight of Anna and Jake holding hands or just sitting by the fire in the evenings in each other’s close proximity had allowed for her mind to wander further still. They were everywhere Amelia looked. It was beautiful love, so deliriously blatant and shameless. It showed itself with sweet glances and even sweeter caresses – love was all Anna wanted and Jake reciprocated this desire by his mere presence and behavior.
Amelia was so happy for them and at the same time she cursed herself for having been so cruel. Seeing her friend, she knew that love was beautiful and that not only in literature we read. That was of course time well spent but no way as potent as witnessing it in the flesh.
The more blatant love presented itself, did Amelia’s aching heart really start to burn in the course of the third day. Amelia had not eaten a bite of breakfast. Amelia blamed herself for having taken away all that was special from her friend. She had not insisted that she join her, but she had not opposed her forcefully enough. Her wishes had overshadowed that which was right. Anna should never have joined her on this foolhardiness.
On the fourth day, she asked herself whether she had made a terrible mistake - Jonathan was the one man who was right for her? She had thought as much on the night of their first kiss after she had refused him. While he held her, it had felt so right. How could something like that be wrong?
The mad and torrential feelings coursing through her ebbed and flowed, depending on Amelia’s mind and mood. If she was lucky, and the cold environs were worse than the day before, she lapsed into a sort of semi-lucid state. At nights, she would be visited by thoughts of him that would not abate until blackness claimed her. This also varied and was contingent on her level of tiredness. Amelia had never begged for exhaustion before. Now, it was a blessing when it finally arrived.
And that was how it went for Amelia day-by-day, making up a series of days linked togethe
r only by the alternating monotony of emotional pain. Anna said they should turn back but Amelia, still stubborn, refused. Anna had said that she would never recover from this lovesickness if she did not face the source of it. And true to form, Amelia even denied it was lovesickness. According to her, it was nerves concerning her uncertain fate.
On the seventh night, each bite of food she had taken had the taste of ash dissolving in her mouth. Water was as potent and as vile as wine that had turned to vinegar. Amelia had asked herself whether the pain was as bad for him? And if yes, why didn’t he follow? Deep down, in her heart and soul, she begged for him to do just that. Reason kicked in to counter this delusion – Jonathan Mitchell was a proud man; he would never run across the land in pursuit of a woman that had spurned him so.
Amelia had lain awake most of that night, thinking that maybe she had misinterpreted Shakespeare’s tragic love story. What if it was about love being so very special that one would even hanker after it when death was inevitable? Could it be that another person could awaken such sentiments? The Power to stare death in the eye and claim, “Take me for I have loved. There is nothing more for me here.”
If that was the case, Amelia knew that she had made a terrible mistake. A stupid blunder that was most probably irreversible. When everyone was sleeping, she had started to weep. At that moment, she had despised her stubbornness that always took center stage when she would convince herself that she was right even though she was so terribly wrong.
Currently, Amelia still suffered from the aftermath of a fitful night during which sleep had remained elusive until the dawn had broken in a series of blinding red lights. It had been too late then. Jake already started to rouse the camp and lit the fires for their breakfast and coffee. The journey would go on until her heart dissolved into a million tears.
Chapter 16
Love Found
Lake Champlain, The United States of America, close to the Canadian Border March 1814
“Amelia, we are nearly there. From here on out, we must be careful and keep an eye out for the Redcoats or their colonial militia,” said Jake, staring ahead with a serious expression etched onto his features.
Amelia, who had decided on riding herself as of late, turned to look at her friend’s loyal and strong betrothed. She liked Jake a great deal. If things were different, she lamented; he could be a friend to me too.
Now, Jake probably despises me for taking away his love. I must stop this whining; ever since leaving Jonathan behind, I have turned into a shadow of myself – this cannot go on. I owe it to myself and to Anna to stay strong and leave honorably with the consequences of my actions, no matter how unbearable that may be.
“Jake, might we make camp here for the night?” asked Amelia, regaining her poise with great difficulty.
“But it is only a couple of hours past noon. If we push on, we could make it into Canada and a British outpost; it would be safer than them catching a group of Americans out here – we could be taken for spies,” protested Jake.
“I realize that. But there is no rush; not for me at least.” She smiled at the burly man with the scars on his face. “It would give you more time with Anna and I would have a chance to take in this beautiful scenery.”
Jake huffed. He had been sold at the mere mention of more time with his beloved Anna. “All right, Amelia.” He issued orders to the slaves to commence with the preparation of the camp. He moved closer to Amelia before she could dismount. “Ye will send her back to me, eh?”
“Of course, I will, Jake. Anna will help me for some time and then she will be free of her obligations to me; I promise.”
Jake appeared content with that. He made to dismount. A feral grunt escaped his mouth. “Amelia, ye are making a big mistake, I hope ye know that.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He dismounted, marched off and continued issuing orders to the men.
Amelia remained on the back of her horse. Tears threatened to seep out of her eyes and bring on the waterfall of sadness that she had become so accustomed to. She could not remember having cried so much in her life. She pressed her lips together forcefully. I will not remain a blubbering wreck. Pull yourself together. You made your bed; now lie in it.
Her gaze fell on the shimmering, watery expanse of Lake Champlain that sparkled occasionally when the winter sun kissed the surface. It was magnificent. However, the watery vastness to which Amelia directed her gaze was not blue or maybe even greenish blue, but white with dots of black where the rocks showed their heads above the snow and ice.
There was a large island aptly called Grand Isle in the center of the freshwater lake and some smaller ones to the north of it. Everything was so vast and infinite that Amelia had a hard time imagining that the land would end in some place, heralding the beginning of the Atlantic Ocean.
“Someone approaches,” yelled Jake.
Amelia snapped her head in the direction of his voice. All around her, the slaves dispersed, positioning themselves behind rocks, trees and any other cover available to them. She was frightened but hopeful at the same time. She was certain that no British soldier would venture so far into American territory alone. Maybe, he is an outrider and his fellows follow in hot pursuit? Once blossoming anticipation turned into a shimmer of apprehension.
“Amelia, dismount lest the stranger sees ye,” ordered Jake who was already strategically placed by the carriage where Anna was hidden.
Amelia heeded his order without protest. She hastily dismounted, gathered her skirts and ran to the carriage and her friend.
“Who do ye think it is?” asked Anna once Amelia was ensconced beside her.
“I don’t know but we will soon find out.”
And just as Amelia’s words slipped past her lips, the man on horseback appeared over the crest of the nearby hill. He was big of stature and handled his black horse as if he formed a part of it. The amalgamation of rider and steed was so fluid that it could be mistaken for a centaur if such creatures existed.
He carried a musket held by a strap to his back. Another such weapon jolted angrily in a sheath by the flank of the horse. His sword jingled with the movement of his mount. On his head, he wore a black top hat that was the same obsidian black as his horse. A tightly buttoned black topcoat, neckerchief and grey trousers that vanished into his black riding boots graced his person – he was a gentleman of substance that was for certain.
“Jonathan,” cried Jake, getting to his feet.
Amelia felt a rush of excitement course through her at the mention of that so cherished a name. It came to her in a series of heady flushes. Her heart beat faster, her breathing became more irate, and her foot tapped on the wooden floorboards of the vehicle uncontrollably.
“I knew he would come; come along, Amelia, we must greet him,” said Anna with a trace of excitement in her voice.
Amelia stopped her before she could open the carriage door. Anna frowned when she saw the confused expression on her friend’s face.
“Ye know why he is here, don’t ye?
Amelia nodded. “I think so…I just can’t believe he came.”
“So much for that Shakespeare fellow ye told me about or maybe…he was right after all. It’s all the same with these things; ye can see them as ye like. I wager that is the beauty of writing and performing,” said Anna. In the meantime, she had been well versed by Amelia in the intricacies of Shakespearean verse.
“I think you are right, Anna,” said Amelia, giving the vivacious Scotswoman a hug. “Out into the fray, Anna,” she said, breaking away.
By the time they stepped out of the conveyance, Jonathan had dismounted and was talking with Jake. Amelia, tentatively at first, walked over to where they stood.
Seeing him again after the way they had parted brought along mixed emotions. She was apprehensive as to what he might say to her. Would he be distant and cold? Was he here because he had some important news concerning their voyage and needed to tell them before something untoward happened? Or was it as Amelia hoped? Jonathan Mitc
hell had ridden all of this way to tell her that he loved her.
“Dearest Anna, it is grand to see you again,” said Jonathan, stepping away from Jake to take the young lady, who had reached him first, into his strong embrace.
Amelia felt a pang of jealousy boil in her veins. It was where she most wanted to be – in his arms, inhaling his sweet scent that she remembered so acutely from their kiss. Twiddling with her fingers, she waited for Jonathan to release Anna. She felt as if he had deliberately greeted her friend first to slight her.
“Amelia…I have come,” said Jonathan, stepping away from Anna. He shook his head ruefully. What he had said had sounded quite lame. He could do better than that. Seeing his sweet Amelia again had robbed him of his wits in just the way she always did. The forceful captain of a frigate felt naked in the face of her feminine charms.
“Amelia, the way we parted was not how I wanted it to be. I have come to apologize if I have caused you any offence. It never was my intention to drive you away. I felt drawn to you that night on the way back from Richmond…”
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