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Chapter Three
Early December, Brechin, Scotland, Kinnaird land
Once they alighted from the carriage, Amelia and her mother stood motionless in front of the cottage, a little unsure of their next move. The carriage driver dropped off one bag from the back of the carriage, and without a word, continued, the sound of hooves growing fainter and fainter with each passing moment.
Both of them had lost weight in the past 12 days and looked drawn and tired. They were dirty and in much need of bathing and rest. Amelia took her mother’s hand, and with a voice as confident as she could muster, said, “Come, Mother, we will bear it as best we can.” Henrietta smiled weakly and nodded her head.
She moved to open the door of the cottage. A cry of “Ahoy!” made Amelia turn her head towards the sound. She saw a ruddy-faced man waving as he walked towards them over the lush green grass.
He approached them smilingly and breathlessly greeted them, his hat and head tipped in politeness.
“Welcome, ladies. Welcome tae Brechin. Well, I suppose yer outside of the town a wee bit, but Kinnaird land it is. I was informed yer arrival would be around this time, so I’ve been comin’ tae the cottage every day to see if ye had arrived and checking that everythin’ was in order for ye.”
Amelia and Henrietta were both so tired that they couldn’t find the words right away to make in reply.
Amelia cleared her throat and began. “Hello, Sir. Forgive us. We have had a very long journey. You must be the landlord. Here is the paperwork we were told to give you?”
“Aye, I am Laird Kinnaird’s land agent. Fletcher’s me name. I tend to the cottages and farms on the estate.” He peered quickly at the paper Amelia had handed him. “Well, everything’ is in order. Let’s see ye young lasses comfortable.”
Mr. Fletcher pulled out a key to open the door to a darkened hallway. He led the way to a side table where he lit a candle and held it up to his face. “Aye, this cottage is a bit drafty this time of year, but I will make ye ladies a fire ye won’t forget!”
Amelia almost groaned with pleasure at the thought of being warm and comfortable and not being jolted about a carriage over the rough Scottish terrain. She touched her mother’s hand and led her along the hallway until Mr. Fletcher illuminated the armchair by the fire.
“Sit, Mother,” Amelia helped her mother ease into an armchair, and then she felt a curiosity to see the rest of their new home.
Mr. Fletcher busied himself with making a fire and making pleasant conversation with Henrietta. “And so, tell me all yer about yer journey, milady.”
Henrietta replied, “Thank you, good Sir, for your kindness. Well, we’re a long way from home in London, but the journey was pleasant enough.” Amelia’s mother would always have the politeness of an English lady and would never complain to a stranger. “The scenery is quite breathtaking here,” Henrietta continued while Amelia found another candle, lit it, and took off on her own to explore the cottage.
Besides the main room area, she found a small kitchen, pantry, a tiny drawing room, and one bedroom. Furniture was scant, but the necessities were there. A bed was set in the center of the bedroom with fresh sheets. On her search, Amelia had also found a small writing desk and vanity, with only one cupboard for clothing. She spied a small privy around the back of the cottage.Was this it? Just these few rooms?Amelia held back the tears that threatened to course down her cheeks as she took in their new home.Just 12 days ago I was about to buy my wedding trousseau, and now…How will we live? What will we eat? My mother, Lady Henrietta Parker, should never have been subjected to this. I will do whatever I must do to make her comfortable.
Amelia took a few deep breaths while alone in the bedroom and steeled her resolve. If her father was to be a weak man with no conscience, no feeling of responsibility or care for those under his care, then it must be totally upon her shoulders. For her mother only, she would find work, she would save, and she would pay the debts. Her father could come back, and her mother would be happy.
Amelia pushed her shoulders back and walked back towards the main room. But her reflection in a cracked mirror on the wall made her pause. She approached the mirror.Could this really be me?Her blond hair was darkened with dirt and grime, and it hadn’t been brushed. A rough braid lay down her shoulder, and stray pieces fell by her ears. Her face was covered in dirt and dust from the journey, and her eyes looked heavy with worry and fatigue. She wore a plain gray dress that she was able to buy from the last inn, and she wore no corset. She had sold her last pair of stays to buy food. Once she had been a young lady of tall stature, with elegant gowns and finery, being asked to dance at every ball during the Season, and now, she looked like no more than a pauper’s daughter. She remembered the first day she’d met Charles Devereaux, and how he’d looked at her--hungrily. A sharp pain in her chest made her remember his hurried note and callous tone. All men were self-centered bastards. But, she’d spent her tears already for Charles on the rough pillows along the journey. Now, this is what she was. It made her think of a line from her favorite poem: “Thy sun is set; thy spring is gone—”
Amelia turned her face away, not wanting to see any more. She must make the best of what she could. And now, with a fire, she could have a bath! She smiled to herself. That was one small pleasure in this sea of troubles.
Amelia heard laughter, if her hearing was correct, coming from the main room. As she entered, the fire was in full blaze, crackling merrily as it filled the small stone room with delicious heat. Her mother was chuckling.
“Oh, Amelia! You must hear Mr. Fletcher’s story. I say it was quite restorative after such a dreary journey.”
Mr. Fletcher smiled.
“Oh, another time, Mother. I believe you need some tea, food, and rest.” Amelia touched her mother on the shoulder.
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell ye. Me wife will be comin’ by with a basket full of treats for ye. She’s a lovely woman, and having no children of her own, likes to spoil those on the estate if she can. She should be by shortly.”
He stood from kneeling at the grate and dusted off his knees. “Well, now that yer settled, I’ll be takin’ my leave. The rent is due on the first of next month, and I’ve brought ye a newspaper from Brechin, as I’ve been told that,” he cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly before them, “that ye are ladies of good breedin’ and would enjoy a bit o’ readin’.”
They thanked Mr. Fletcher heartily for his kindness and help, and then Amelia took a seat in the wooden chair by the fire next to her mother.
Her stomach growled fiercely, and she wished for Mrs. Fletcher to make her arrival soon.
* * *
Jamie awoke the next morning, feeling more rested but still anxious about the worries of last evening. It had been a late night by the fire with Prince Charlie, and he had resolved to be comfortable with his mother ‘s decision to have a companion. He knew it was not his decision to make.
Jamie dressed in his shirt, waistcoat, and thick tartan coat for warmth. The stone walls of the castle were no form of insulation, and as soon as his feet hit the floor out of bed every morning in the winter, a chill would run through his body. His hair was tied back in a bun, following the English style. He hated it this way, but it made his mother happy and feel more like she was back at home in England.
