Amelia nearly stopped. Gritting her teeth, she recovered the slight skip in her rhythm. Then, she cleared her throat, reminding herself that Flora may be the safest person to trust with this.
“If me name is kent,” Amelia said, exerting a considerable effort to speak the words aloud, ignoring the way her body shook in favor offinallyanswering the question, “then that means there will be more intensive efforts to find me family. It means that he’ll find me father.”
“It doesnae mean that ye’ll have to go back to an awful man,” Flora countered gently. She sounded so sure of herself, like she had accounted for every single variable. “Ye’re nae damned to bein’ yer father’s prisoner yer whole life, even if Darragh does ken his name.”
As if it could be so simple.
Amelia bit the inside of her cheek, frustrated with herself for being so scared of where she came from and with Flora for not being able to understand. “But it means me location will be kent. It means that me father could try to get me back just so he can sell me again. I’m nae just worried about meself. I’m worried about Darragh. I’m worried about all of the people that live in the keep and the village.”
Me father willnae stop at just takin’ me. He’ll eliminate anyone who may have helped me. And he willnae ask questions.
She stopped walking, her face flaming with shame. Their surroundings had gone quiet, all of the creatures seeming to hold their breath with the weight of the truth. Her heart drummed in her ears. Flora’s footfalls slowed.
Amelia’s clothes were suddenly too tight. She was sweating everywhere. Her stomach lurched so violently, she thought she would vomit.
Desperately, she wanted to take back everything she said. It was unacceptable to have someone else see her vulnerabilities. She’d put herself at a terrible risk. Squeezing her eyes shut, Amelia held her breath, waiting for the worst to happen.
A second passed. Then two. Then several more that she didn’t dare count.
When she opened her eyes, no longer able to take the silence, she expected to see pity or fear in Flora’s expression, but the other girl seemed thoughtful. Her head tilted to the side, a lock of her dark hair sliding out of place. She wrapped her arms around her body, then took a slow, careful step toward Amelia, watching for any signs that she wasn’t welcome.
“Ye could tell him yer last name, lass,” she said, barely above a whisper. The next sentence was strung together delicately, as if each word were a piece of stained glass. “If ye did, much of this would be over.”
Amelia stiffened, her heart dropping. Her fingers twitched. Her legs ached to run as far away from the keep as they could carry her. Flora’s serene expression kept her in place, though.
He wouldnae have reason to pester me anymore. Even if new issues arise, I wouldnae have to deal with them on me own. At least… I daenae think Darragh would abandon me.
“And, if the name ye carry is poison, then choose another,” Flora continued gently, closing the small gap between herself and Amelia. She held onto both of Amelia’s hands, keeping her from getting lost in her mind. It was like she knew that Amelia would spiral into mistrust if left untethered. “A whole new one. A name can be taken back. It’s nae as permanent as ye think it is.”
The spinning, nagging thoughts came to a stuttering halt. Things came into focus sharply. The pressure of Flora’s fingers wrapped around hers. The crickets chirping. The golden-orange light from the lanterns.
“Is that true?” Amelia whispered, desperate to latch onto that notion. “Could that really be so?”
Even if it is… it couldnae fix anything, could it?
“Aye,” Flora said, tightening her grip. Amelia returned the pressure, her body acting on its own. “And I think ye already ken that ye can do anythin’ ye set yer mind to.”
Amelia swallowed hard, nodding when no more words came. She wanted to say thank you. She wanted to ask how Flora could possibly understand. Since she could do neither, she squeezed Flora’s hands once more before dropping them and continuing on the path back to the castle. She held herself a little lighter, and the air tasted almost sweet.
As Flora fell into step beside her, Amelia wondered whether she could, as the other woman had said, reclaim or reshape her identity. For her entire life, she’d been tied to his father. If it wasn’t in name, it was in the fact that he’d sold her as though she were a commodity. And above all else, did his blood not run through her veins?
She’s so sure that it’s in me hands, though. And I want to believe her more than anything.
And, as they stepped inside, something shifted inside her. For the first time, possibility coexisted with fear.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Seems ye’ve been sippin’ me scotch,” Lucas observed as he opened the glass bottle of liquor, not bothering to call over the maid. There was an amused expression on his face, his body angled slightly toward her.
“Nay. I think ye must be drinkin’ faster than ye realize,” Flora said, though her face was flushed and her movements more languid. “Daenae blame me for somethin’ ye’ve done. It’s unbecomin’.”
She turned to Amelia then, a cheeky smile on her face. When Flora winked, Amelia nearly laughed aloud. It was only Lucas turning around and speaking directly to her that stopped the giggle from escaping.
“Ye should come visit us at Castle McGowan sometime, Amelia.” He walked over to the settee, reclaiming his seat next to Flora. She scooted closer, failing to keep the motion hidden. “Our solarmay nae be as nice as yers, but ye’ve never seen a library as stocked as ours.”
Amelia nodded, unable to speak. Her mind was caught on the implication that Fraser Keep could belong to her in any capacity. Perhaps he was speaking to Darragh, who was sitting next to her. Her eyes flitted to the Laird, but she looked back at Lucas almost immediately. Darragh was too close.
Lucas was looking right at me. He wasnae speakin’ to anyone but me.
