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Chapter Twenty
Over the next week, the sun melted all the remaining snow and heated up the green hills and fields once again, softening the ground. With the return of winter storms a possibility, Jamie began to assemble men to help him prepare the pasture for the new flock. He sent word to the old shepherd in Brechin to arrive at the castle.
Amelia had been grateful for Jamie’s recent ventures into the fields during the day, so that she could find the time to search for the birth records. She feared Donald’s return, and she wanted to be prepared for when he visited next. One sunny afternoon, while Fiona was resting in her chamber and Jamie out with William and Mr. Fletcher, Amelia decided it was the right time to enter his workroom. He never kept it locked, so it was easy to enter. As soon as she did, though, she felt a queasy feeling in her stomach.
Was this really for the good of the clan? Why could she not tell Jamie about it? She consciously tried to quell those feelings as she stood in the center of the room staring at Jamie’s large, wooden desk. Just looking at this spot in the daylight brought out a chuckle from her and a warmth at the delicious memory of her laid on its cool surface, with Jamie newly exploring her. She walked over to it and ran her hand around the carved edges, trying to remember each detail. Since the night in her bedroom, they had shared many kisses in the hallways around the castle, but there was not yet another occurrence of lovemaking, and Amelia wondered why. Perhaps she had done something wrong?
This thought stayed with her as she began to search for the records in the drawers of the desk and on the shelves, desperately trying to calm the niggling fear that something was amiss. But, then she remembered her mother’s face, and she worked harder to find them. Eventually in a box that was clasped shut on the wooden shelf behind the desk, Amelia had found the papers, stiff and yellowed, with the cramped handwriting of the parish minister which displayed the dates of birth and birth order:
Laird James Kinnaird, eldest, born 4 October 1694. Kenneth Kinnaird, youngest (twin brother), born 4 October 1694.
Amelia smiled at her victory, and she closed the box shut before leaving the room hurriedly. She returned to her bedroom and attempted to conceal the delicate pages in a dresser drawer. She covered them with a plaid and grabbed her notebook and new writing paper to head out into the sunshine and put the event from her mind.
* * *
Out in the field, Jamie and William were working together to remove a large boulder from the ground. They had dug at the sides with shovels and then had to resort to using their hands to pull it out the rest of the way.
William struggled with the effort, and said, “I should have bloody stayed at home if I knew it was tae be this kind of work.”
Jamie tried not to laugh, and he replied breathlessly, “Then, ye wouldnae get any exercise, lad. Ye’ve been sitting and drinking a bit too much lately, if ye ask me.”
They eventually pulled out the boulder and carried it to the edge of the future grazing field. William stretched out his back. Both men removed their cravats to wipe at their faces. They loosened the buttons at the tops of their white shirts and rolled up the sleeves.
“Bloody hard work, that is. I was never one tae enjoy that. I need some ale.”
Jamie laughed. “Remember what I said, friend. We both know ye want tae look yer best when the moral Miss Marianne comes a’visitin’.”
William punched Jamie in the shoulder. “‘Tis not just the body that attracts; ‘tis also the wit and humor.” He smiled.
“Och, I see. What a wise man ye are.”
Mr. Fletcher had been farther out in the field digging and pulling as well, and they saw him walk towards them.
“Well, lads, I’d say we’re close tae bein’ ready fer the new flock.” A face lit up his already ruddy complexion. “I think there will be another blast o’ winter cold, but after that, we can bring the flock here to graze. Over the summer, we’ll need tae build the barn.”
“Thank ye, Fletcher. Lads, I say we’ve had enough fer today. I think we could all use a pint.”
Fletcher held up his hands. “I need tae return tae the Mrs. She’ll be on me case again if I come home stinkin’ of ale and smoke.”
The two younger men laughed and clapped the older man on the shoulders. They walked with him for a bit back towards the castle, and then Fletcher moved towards the stable to saddle his horse. William and Jamie continued walking.
“So, lad, have ye thought any more about my provoking and inspiring words?” William made a grand sweeping gesture with his arms to display his superiority.
Jamie rubbed his neck and wiped the sweat from his brow once again. “Aye. I say we both complete part of the bet punishment and arrive only half naked at the next clan meeting.”
William grumbled, “Bloody hell, yer as bad as they come! I’d almost rather be spending me days with that leech, Donald.”
Jamie smirked at William’s frustration.
“Nay, I mean the words about ye being besotted like a lovesick dog with Amelia and not wantin’ tae admit it.”
Jamie rubbed his beard and nodded. “Och, those provoking and inspiring words.”
They walked slowly, their tall boots covered in mud, and the warmth of the afternoon drying the sweat on their faces. “Aye. I have...I plan on presenting Amelia with me grandmother’s ring.”
William stopped, and Jamie only noticed he’d lost pace with his friend after a few steps. He turned around to see a beaming and grinning William, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Bloody foking hell,” William said, “The womanizing laird gets made an honest man. I’ll hate tae tell all the lasses down at the gambling hall.” He winked.
He walked up to Jamie and shook his hand. “Excellent news. A laird needs a wife tae keep him in line. Ye willnae be gettin’ too cocky with a wife like her.” He hit Jamie on the shoulder. He sighed and walked on. “Well, I’ll miss ye when we go on our nights to gamble and carouse, but I confess, I’ll be happy tae have all the attention now.”
