* * *
“Pardon me, miss.”
Amelia jumped, sucking in a harsh breath as she jumped out of the way. Carefully, she positioned herself at the edge of the chaos, giving herself enough room to watch without the chance of being knocked to the ground by a man too absorbed in the jovial energy of the hunt to pay attention to his surroundings. It was as busy as she expected, though she hadn’t anticipated her own reactions.
A servant rushed past her, carrying a basket overflowing with bread, cured meats, and what Amelia could only assume were flasks of whiskey for the riders. She took another measured step back, watching the scene unfold with quiet attention. From the window behind her, men’s laughter filtered in. She thoughtshe heard the squeal of leather tightening, and she caught the distinct scent of horsehair.
Were these events always so loud?
“Ach, Laird Fraser calls it the fox hunt so he doesnae hurt the egos of men who cannae take down a stag,” a laird Amelia didn’t recognize boasted as he walked by. He was keeping his pace intentionally slow, holding the attention of a younger maid who looked a bit overwhelmed. “But I will be bringin’ in the biggest stag out of any of the men here. I’ve done it for the last…”
His voice was swallowed by the drone of the crowd as the two passed Amelia by. She stayed in place for another beat before shaking her head and slipping into the flow of foot traffic. Instead of going toward the great hall, she chose the sanctuary that was the kitchens. Besides, she’d successfully avoided mealtime. If there was any food left, the staff would already be storing it.
“Ach, there ye are,” Mrs. Rowan said the second she stepped through the doors. The older woman was in front of Amelia before she even had time to blink. As she pushed a small, warm loaf into Amelia’s palms, Mrs. Rowan said, “I ken the keeps a madhouse at the moment, but ye cannae skip breakfast. Ye had Laird Fraser askin’ after yer well-bein’.”
Amelia froze, cursing how reactive she had become. Clearing her throat and looking down at the bread as she tore into it, she replied, “I simply overslept. He needn’t be so worried about me.”
“I told him that, but he called ye the most unreasonable person he’d ever met,” Mrs. Rowan said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “He may have had a point.”
“I resent that,” Amelia objected, though her smile betrayed her.
“Of course, ye do,” the healer sighed. She put her hand on Amelia’s elbow and gently turned her around. Before Amelia had the chance to question it, Mrs. Rowan said, “Come now. Eat as we walk. I believe Jinny’s lookin’ for ye. She’d like to fuss over yer appearance. She told me that she couldnae find ye this mornin’. I expect ye were sleepin’ so deeply ye dinnae hear her at yer door.”
“That may have been the case,” Amelia replied, grateful to be handed an excuse. “I cannae say that I’m used to bein’ around these kinds of festivities. Everyone’s arrival yesterday drained me.”
“I’m nae sayin’ I daenae understand,” Mrs. Rowan said, expertly guiding Amelia toward an alcove where Jinny was worrying away at her cuticles. “Daenae do that, Jinny. It’s nae ladylike.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Rowan,” she chirped, immediately yanking her hand away from her mouth and tangling her fingers in her apron. When she spotted Amelia standing just behind her, relief flooded through her entire being. “Miss Amelia. I couldnae find ye this mornin’.”
“I ken,” Amelia said, ducking her head slightly as the maid came forward to adjust her gowns.
I was goin’ to leave. I dinnae realize anyone would be so… worried.
“Well, ye’re adept at dressin’ yerself,” Jinny muttered, smoothing the single wrinkle that Amelia had missed. She shifted her attention to the haphazard pile of hair atop her head. Clicking her tongue, she said, “But ye should have come to me to help ye with yer hair. This isnae doin’ that bonnie face of yers any justice.”
“I’m glad ye said it,” Mrs. Rowan sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Flabbergasted by their concern about her appearance, Amelia couldn’t do a thing but stand there as her hair was swiftly rearranged by Jinny’s deft fingers. It wasn’t as if hunts were grand occasions. If anything, they were marked by the absence of men. After they finally got settled onto their mounts, that is.
“Bring her in here,” a small, authoritative voice demanded.
Amelia turned to see Isla marching toward them with Hazel trotting along behind her. The child was dressed in healer’s gowns, and she looked as if she were taking her role with grave seriousness. She pointed at an empty meeting room, her expression brokering no room for argument.
“Best ye daenae keep her waitin’,” Mrs. Rowan said with an amused huff. “She willnae be able to carry on with her day until she checks ye over.”
“Laird Fraser said that he was worried yer ribs were givin’ ye problems,” Isla explained, ignoring the teasing. “I will be checkin’ them before we all go to get somethin’ proper to eat. It will be a long day.”
Once the door was closed, Isla began her careful routine. Amelia obediently moved clothing and leaned before she had to be asked. By now, she knew better than to question Isla’s command. Not only would the girl refuse to hear the word no, but shewasalso quite skilled, especially for her age.
She’s treatin’ me with such care. She’s become… gentler with me since we first met.
As Isla’s warm fingers brushed along the faint purpling against her side, Amelia found that she didn’t mind the eager tenderness. A knot threatened to form in her chest. In an attempt to keep the emotions at bay, at least for a wee bit, she took a mouthful of her bread, focusing on deliberately and thoroughly chewing each bite.
Amelia was nearly finished with the roll when Isla began refastening her gowns. “Ye should be takin’ breaths as deep as ye can stand,” she said, taking care to smooth out each wrinkle. “And I would advise that ye daenae lift anythin’ heavier than a loaf of bread.”
A flurry of laughter worked its way through the group, but Isla’s expression remained unshakeable. That was enough to get a chuckle from Amelia, much softer than everyone else’s, but there. It surprised her how freely she offered evidence of her joynow. Even before she’d made the decision to stay, she’d found herself laughing around these women.
She didn’t have a choice when Isla was so funny.
