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Chapter Seven
Christmas was fast approaching, and the servants were busily baking, hanging decorations, and making all the holiday preparations. Ivy covered the window sills, and the scent of spices filled the air. It made Amelia homesick for her London home, spending Christmas with her father and mother by the fireplace, and dancing at the Yule balls. But, she was thankful, since Scotland didn’t normally celebrate Christmas, but the clan made an exception for Lady Kinnaird.
Two more weeks had passed since Amelia’s first visit to her mother, and she was helping Lady Kinnaird prepare for a dinner party that evening. They sat together over tea cups by the fireplace, and Prince Charlie laid at Fiona’s feet.
“Oh, it will be nothing like a London ball, you know. It’s just family, most of the clan, with a few other guests of course, like William,” Fiona explained to Amelia.
“William is not a part of the clan?”
“Och, no, although it seems so.” Amelia loved the way Fiona’s English accent had been peppered with a slight Scottish lilt. It made her seem younger and kinder. “Since his father died, he’s been staying close to Jamie. He has a family home farther away, but he doesn’t reside there as often as he does here. The rest of his family died many years before.”
“Oh, I see.”More tragedy to be found connected with the Kinnaird clan.
“Now, come, dear, help me look over this dinner menu.” They discussed chicken and lamb and blaeberry pies until all was settled and organized. Fiona left the room to go take her afternoon nap, and Amelia was left to sip the rest of her tea alone with Prince Charlie.
“Well, well, well, finding a moment alone with ye is hard to come by these days. Ye wouldn’t be avoiding me by any chance?” Jamie suddenly appeared at the side of her armchair, breaking the chain of her thoughts, and he leaned against the fireplace, cup of tea in hand.
She and Jamie had seen each other daily as they worked around the castle, Amelia with Fiona, and Jamie in his workroom, or the library, or out riding. Every time they saw each other, Jamie would smile widely, as if he’d just found a delicious treat, and Amelia would hurriedly leave the room. But, one day, Jamie had approached her in anger as Amelia sat reading in the library.
“Sassenach have ye been taking me ma around the grounds of this castle and in the forest in this foul weather?”
Amelia smiled, happy to have struck a nerve and cracked that sensual facade. “Yes, of course. I’ve read that exercise does excellent work for the constitution, both physically and mentally. It’s part of my job as companion to attend to your mother’s health.”
“Ye’ve read it, have ye? Just like a Sassenach tae have as much pride as a peacock.” He moved closer to her seat, his green eyes flaring. “‘Tis not part of yer job tae be taking unnecessary risks with an older woman. It’s frigid out there, and she could catch a cold...or worse. These woods are full of dangers.”
Amelia replied with as confident an air as possible. “You may ask her if you like. She enjoys it, and she says she’s felt better than she has in years. And certainly, we can take care of ourselves and do not need some pig-headedmantrying to restrict us.” Jamie’s shocked face thrilled her to the core, and he turned at that, mumbling, “Aye, I’ll do just that.”
Later that same day, Jamie found Amelia writing in the library, and he cleared his throat to get her attention. “Ye were right, lass. Me ma has refused tae stop her walks, although it’s a dangerous idea. But, she says I’m tae trust ye.”
Amelia smiled in victory at him. “If that’s an apology, then it’s right what I’ve heard: the Scottish aren’t as civilized as the English.”
She returned her gaze to her poetry book. Suddenly, she felt his presence close to her shoulder. Her breath caught in her chest, and she felt her skin heat with his nearness. Time seemed to slow, just for a moment.Don’t show any weakness, Amelia!She willed her neck not to redden, but she knew he could see it above her collar as he stood over her. She was afraid to look up, afraid to be penetrated by that melting stare.
His voice was low, but not angry. It was soft and smooth. “Aye, Amelia, we’re not as civilized as those wig-wearing fops in London. I’d say we’re a lot more fun.”
Then, he left the library, having had the last word once again. Amelia’s blood boiled, but her breath released, now that he’d gone. But, one thing had changed. He’d used her real name. To hear her real name uttered by his lips drew a new, warm sensation.
Since the library, it had become almost a game, with Amelia always displaying a haughty icy air, and Jamie seductively approaching her whenever he could. Amelia kept wondering to herself,What makes a man act so? Why have I become the focus of all his attentions?
And now, here he was again, standing before her at the fireplace, leaning casually against the mantle, a muscled bicep exposed to her view from underneath his shirt.
Amelia forced herself to ignore it and replied, “It wouldn’t make any sense for me to avoid you, as you are the laird, and I am your employee, am I not? Is there something you need, Laird James?”
Her practiced haughtiness made Jamie roll his eyes, and he sat down beside her, rubbing Prince Charlie’s head. “Och, yer enough tae try a man’s patience, Sassenach. Isn’t it about time we came tae a truce? My mother has taken tae ye, after all.”
Amelia put down her teacup and sighed with mock impatience. “I suppose that would be amenable. What do you suggest?” Her heart raced with him being so near, so casually splayed in the chair next to her.
“Well I was thinking something like ye’d stop giving me that blue-eyed ice cold stare every time I walked intae the room.”
Amelia paused.He noticed my blue eyes. Then she inquired, confused. “And you? What is your part of this truce?”
He leaned back in the chair, both of his arms behind his head, muscles straining to be free of their linen prison.
Amelia crossed her arms, waiting for an answer, hating the way he stared at her openly, without any thought of politeness or decorum. She hated the way those green eyes seemed to lock her into their spell.
“Me? What have I tae change? I feel that I have been a most gracious host tae my foreign guest.”
Amelia huffed in reply and watched Jamie’s grin widen.I can’t believe this man had been tortured. He acts as though he’s king of the world. Hmm...what can I ask him to concede in this “truce”?
