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Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, over breakfast, Amelia and Fiona sat alone at the table. Amelia looked sullen and Fiona asked, “My dear, did ye not like the party? ‘Tis New Year’s Day after all, it should be a happy time!” She smiled.
Amelia looked at Fiona and gave a weak smile. “Oh yes, the party was wonderful, and the dress was so beautiful. I’m sorry; I’m not feeling well this morning. Many things have come to my attention which must be addressed.”
Fiona’s face fell. “Oh, I’m very sorry, dear. Is there anything I may help with? Many times, a listening ear can provide aid.”
Amelia sat, thoughtful for a moment.Should I tell Lady Kinnaird of the exploits of her son? Or would it make it me look more helpless in Jamie’s eyes?
“No, thank you. ‘Tis nothing to concern others with. Athough…”
Fiona responded eagerly. “Please! Tell me what I may do to assist.”
Amelia waited a moment and took a breath. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would appreciate visiting my mother in this time. There are a few things to discuss with her, and a letter wouldn’t suffice.”
Fiona relaxed, afraid it would have been something worse. “Of course! Of course! Please, take the day and return later.”
Amelia smiled, breathing a sigh of relief that her request was not too impertinent or inconvenient.
“Thank you, Fiona!” She rushed around the breakfast table to give Fiona a kiss on the cheek. “You have been my salvation these many weeks.”
With that, Amelia departed for her bedroom to prepare for her departure, and Fiona was left wondering,what does this young girl need salvation from?
* * *
Amelia and Henrietta sat before the fire in Henrietta’s small cottage, Sophie having brought them cups of tea and biscuits freshly baked.
Amelia looked around at her mother’s meager, yet clean surroundings, and her decision to help Donald and get the money felt justified in her mind.
“Mother, what you have done to the space! It feels so homely and cozy. I would not have arranged it any other way.”
Henrietta smiled, pulling her plaid more tightly around her, her cheeks having filled out, and her dark circles disappeared.
She waved a hand in the area to signify insignificance. “‘Twas but a trifle. Sophie assissted me greatly, the dear girl. I was not at all sure how to put each piece of furniture. So, tell me of your time in the castle.”
Amelia paused, but refused to tell her mother about the situation with her father. She placed a smile on her face instead. “We just had the Hogmanay feast, and the whole clan was there. Mother, you should have seen it. They don’t celebrate Christmas, not in their hearts, but they were full of merriment for Hogmanay, and ‘twas a sight to see. Dancing, wine, food as far as the eye could see.”
Henrietta nodded, her eyes shining with happiness, knowing her daughter was safe, well-fed, and entertained. “My dear, it sounds like wonderful fun. Did ye wear a gown?”
Amelia’s face lit up. “Ah, yes! I neglected to tell you. Lady Fiona lent me a beautiful blue gown to wear for the party, and she had her seamstress let out a few of the seams around the bust. It was perfectly lovely, and...and I felt like I was back home again.”
Amelia hesitated, afraid what effect the words would have upon her mother. But, they only gave pleasure.
“Amelia, I wish I could have seen you. I am utterly pleased that the party was a success, and that you were a beauty amidst it. ‘Tis not a surprise,” and Henrietta smiled at her daughter.
She sat back further in her chair and took a bit of biscuit with jam. “Hmm...Mrs. Fletcher often comes by and tells me of the happenings of Brechin and the castle.” She didn’t make eye contact as she asked, “Tell me of this young laird, Jamie.”
Amelia whole body tensed with the remembrance of the last evening. She sighed and looked away towards the hearth. “I’ve told you, Mother.”
Henrietta argued. “You’ve not told me much at all. Only that he’s the laird, that his name is Jamie, and that he is young. I want to know more.”
Amelia paused, refraining from rolling her eyes, and she sat back in her chair to more comfortably form the words that were screaming to exit her brain.
“He’s, he’s...a cad.”
“Amelia! You musn’t say such things!” Henrietta waved a hand in Amelia’s direction, attempting to physically create a change in thought and behavior.
Amelia held her hands up in defense and to portray her point. “He is very charming to be sure, but ‘tis all an act. He’s just concerned with his own affairs.”
