Amelia watched through the mirror as the woman passed Abigail a few coins. She waited patiently as they were counted. Then, she turned to leave, but when she opened the door, she came to an abrupt stop, her path blocked by Darragh.
“Then I’ll return her where she came from.”
His words were loud in the quiet room, making Amelia’s entire body coil. She didn’t need to hear the rest of the conversation or ask for the context to know that Darragh was speaking about her. And that statement only confirmed her worst fears.
He’s goin’ to send me back, just as I thought he was. All his kindness was simply a ruse. He must be collectin’ a sum of money, and when I get back…
It seemed as though the entire shop went still, all of the air sucked out of the room through the slightly opened door. She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of the eyes that were on her. The temptation to hide away, to make herself small, was overwhelming—the only thing that stopped her from doing so was the sheer stubbornness that carried her through her life.
Still, the dress she was wearing felt as if it were far too snug, and the reflection in the mirror was no longer a thing of joy. It felt as if the wall of this place were closing in on her. She was back in the dungeons, tied up and shoved into a carriage at her father’s insistence, and chained to the wall of the tower.
On shaky legs, she walked over to a bench, sitting as the room began to spin. The edges of her vision were fuzzy, the same way they had been before her fainting spell. As she sucked in deep breaths, Abigail walked over to her, concern etched into her features.
“Are ye well, lass?” she asked, her hands resting on Amelia’s knees, a grounding presence. “Ye just got very pale of a sudden.”
“I’m quite all right,” Amelia forced out, taking a deep, steadying breath. “I just got a wee bit lightheaded.”
“I’ll get ye some water and fan ye for a bit,” Abigail said, standing and rushing to the back of the shop.
Before she returned, Darragh stepped inside. His eyes instantly found Amelia, his brow furrowing. She thought that he had no right to look as if he were concerned about her. He was the one who was willing to return her to her father simply because he thought she belonged there.
“There ye are,” Abigail said, pressing a goblet into her hands. She stepped back, using the fan she’d procured from somewhere unseen to waft air onto Amelia’s face. “Ye’re already beginnin’ to get yer color back.”
“Did somethin’ happen?” Darragh asked roughly, beginning to take a step forward before apparently thinking better of it.
“I was just beginnin’ to overheat,” Amelia replied, the statement terse as his words echoed in her head.
I daenae think me father will try to sell me again… nay, he’ll take care of me and nay have to worry about me tryin’ to claim me inheritance rather than takin’ another chance.
“I’ll have the healer look ye over when we return to the castle,” he decided, going back to settle onto the bench on the other side of the room. “Are ye nearly finished?”
“Aye,” Abigail said, still fanning rhythmically. “I’ll send ye both on yer way once we find a pair of shoes that fits Amelia.”
“Ye daenae need to fan me any longer,” Amelia assured, taking a measured sip of the cool water. “I can sit as I try on the shoes.”
Abigail looked as if she wanted to argue, but she obeyed, setting the fan aside. As she slipped the first pair onto Amelia’s feet, the only thing Amelia could think about was getting back to the castle, where she could shut herself in her quarters.
I need to figure out a way to escape.
“These fit just fine,” Amelia said when Abigail slipped on the third pair. “I appreciate yer help. Ye dinnae have to give me all of these things.”
“It’s nae a problem at all,” Abigail assured her as she stood, offering her hand to Amelia. “I’m glad to help a guest of Laird Fraser.”
Amelia nodded, giving the woman a tight smile. For a moment, she’d felt herself believing she was truly a guest. Now, though, she was sure she was a prisoner. This time, her cage was simply gilded.
As Amelia walked toward the door, Darragh headed to the counter, placing a bag of coins there and promising Abigail that he’d send for the garments in a week. Amelia was nearly outside when he caught up with her. His hand was strong on her elbow when he grabbed her.
“Ye will be ridin’ back to Fraser Keep with me,” he said, guiding her to his horse that stood waiting.
“I’m perfectly fine with ridin’ back in the carriage,” she replied, stiffening in his grasp. “I prefer it.”
“Ach, I ken,” he said, sounding almost convincingly apologetic. She knew better, though. She’d heard that he would be returning her to where she belonged.’ “This is a safety precaution. I can get ye back faster if it’s just the two of us. I’m nae askin’ for yer permission, Amelia. I’m tellin’ ye this is how ye’re bein’ transported.”
“Of course,” she relented, biting her tongue to keep from saying anything more. They were surrounded by villagers. She knewbetter than to cause a scene in such a populated area. “I suppose I cannae complain if it means the journey is shorter.”
“Smart lass.”
As she was helped into the saddle, each place his hands touched seemed to burn. The dress itched, and staying still, allowing this to happen, felt like a violation of her very being.
