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Henrietta coughed. “I cannot say that I agree with you, my dear.”
Amelia asked, “What do you mean, mother?”
Henrietta hesitated, taking a sip of tea before replying. “Well, I’ve had a visit from him this morning.”
“What?!” Amelia’s shock was evident on her face, her eyes wide, the color leaving it. “He…he has come to visit you? For what purpose?”
“Well, he is the landlord, my dear. He was very kind. He came to the door, and I invited him in for some tea. Sophie made us a cup, and he simply wanted to take a look at the cottage’s condition and ask how I fared.”
Amelia felt angry but also something else, something warm, that she didn’t like feeling. She was touched by his gesture.
“How long did he stay?”
“Not for long. I took him around the cottage to show him how we’ve placed all the furniture, and we discussed my plan for an herb garden in the back once the weather warms. He told me he would assist me. And…he invited me to visit the castle whenever I pleased. He felt I would get along famously with his mother.”
Amelia was speechless for a moment, taking it all in. When she spoke again, her voice quieter, not knowing whether to yell or cry or swoon. “And since you do not seem to agree with my opinion of the man, how did you feel about his manner?”
Henrietta smiled over her teacup. “I think he’s lovely, Amelia. Very dashing, stately, and kind. He was ever so polite, and he had only smiles for me and Sophie. I’m sorry, dear, I can’t see this caddishness. But, I suppose, I’ve only spoken to the man for half of an hour.”
Amelia crossed her arms, her resolve to hate him forever and ignore him threatening to melt away in light of this new development.He didn’t have to come and visit her. But, he’s just trying to attempt reconciliation. Hmmm…but why?
“Well, he does have some good qualities, I must admit.” Amelia looked down, worried the memory of his warm kisses would show on her face in front of her mother.
Henrietta touched her arm and Amelia looked up. “He’s quite a handsome man, my dear. And those eyes. I’m surprised you haven’t been swept up by them.”
“Mother!” Amelia started to turn crimson. She stood. “I am not so weak that I am to be affected by a man’s good looks. Or by one act of goodness and charity.”
Henrietta stood as well. “My goodness, you’re turning quite the shade of red, Amelia. Perhaps there is more you’d like to share?” Henrietta wore a sly smile as she looked at a frazzled Amelia.
Amelia turned away to gather her plaid from the hook at the door. “No, nothing more. Come Mother. Let’s go for a lovely walk. You can tell me of your plans for the garden.”
Henrietta chuckled and sighed. “Very well, dear. Let’s wrap up warmly.”
Henrietta didn’t mention Jamie any more as they walked towards the river by the cottage to the little cemetery. Amelia was grateful. They discussed the Scottish weather, Amelia’s poetry, the library at Kinnaird castle, Marianne’s potential visit, and the garden.
The air seemed to still as they came across this lonely part of the land. The cemetery was a squared off enclosure with tall green grasses surrounding the few gray stones. Many of them were hard to read as time had worn away at the names, and now they were simply left to sit on a windy Scottish riverbank for eternity.
In the center was a larger stone, and it looked as though it was new or had been recently cleaned. Amelia had seen it a few times on her walks while living with her mother, but she hadn’t looked closely at the name inscribed on the front. Now, fresh holly branches caught her eye as she wandered past the stone, and it made her pause to read the name:Laird James Kinnaird, honorable man, loving husband, proud father, who fought for his homeland with his dying breath.
Amelia gasped, “It’s Jamie’s father. I never noticed the name before.”
“Ah yes, such a sad story that was. Mrs. Fletcher has told me more about it in her visits. She tells me that Mr. Fletcher cleans the stone and Lady Fiona or Laird Jamie often come to bring flowers or boughs to lay at the base.” I have not seen them yet, or else I would have said hello.”
Amelia had an inner battle going on.Why did Jamie have to be so damned sweet and vulnerable and make my heart skip a beat? Why did he have to visit my mother and invite her to the castle? Why did he have to...make a bet that I would kiss him and make me fall right into his trap?
She kept her lips tight as she told her mother, “Yes, ‘tis a sad tale, for certain. Let’s return to the house, Mother, to look at your garden space.” She grabbed Henrietta’s elbow and turned to leave as she heard two sets of horse’s hooves rumbling nearby towards them.
In a few moments, Mr. Fletcher and Jamie were before them.
* * *
There was a slight pause before Henrietta said, “Mr. Fletcher, lovely to see you as always. And Laird Jamie, back so soon? Welcome back.” She smiled and bowed her head slightly, like the regal lady she truly was. Amelia’s heart warmed at the sight.
“Hello ladies. Miss Amelia, what a pleasure it is tae see ye again. Has been a great many weeks since I saw ye at the cottage.” Mr. Fletcher smiled, his red face beaming.
Amelia drew the plaid around her and smiled warmly at the kind man. “What a pleasure it is to see you again, Mr. Fletcher. And thank you so much for keeping an eye on my dear mother. She says Mrs. Fletcher comes to visit often.”
Mr. Fletcher chuckled as he dismounted. Jamie dismounted silently beside him. “Och, yes, me wife always craves a bit o’ company, especially with a husband such as me.” He laughed heartily, and his large stomach shook.
