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Chapter Four
“So, has Fiona had a reply tae her companion posting?” William asked as he stared at his cards. Jamie leaned back comfortably in the armchair and took a swig of ale. Raucous laughter filled the small tavern in the forbidden section of Brechin. Thick-bearded men with dirt on their hands and soiled waistcoats were sitting at long wooden tables, drinking, gambling, surely spending their coin on women rather than giving it to their families. Young women roamed around the tables and chairs with sly smiles until someone grabbed them onto their lap, and they’d conduct their nightly business.
“Aye, she’s heard. And the new lass will be coming by tomorrow, most likely an old Sassenach, coming tae educate us about her English ways.” He had warmed to the companion idea, but inside, he hoped it was some mousy, school mistress-type woman who would stay out of his way.
William joked, “Yer ma’s an Englishwoman herself, ye remember. But maybe ye’ll get lucky, and ‘twill be a luscious young treat who would be more than willing tae spend the evenings in yer bed.”
Jamie laughed and played his hand. “Aye, ye know better than anyone, my friend, how much trouble a woman can be the closer she is tae ye, and even more trouble if she’s a Sassenach one. Donnae tell me ma. She’s the only Sassenach that has me heart.”
William leaned back, his arms behind his head, still smiling. “Aye, yer right, lad.” He laid down his cards. “Now, I fold. Ye take the winnings. I’m going tae drink meself intae a stupor.”
Jamie laughed and hailed a barmaid for two more pints of ale. He’d been so busy lately, it had been an age since he and his friend focused simply on attending to their own pleasures. It felt good, and it relaxed him. But they cut an odd picture in the tavern as two clean, Scottish, wealthy gentlemen amongst the townsfolk of Brechin. Many a young woman’s eye had turned to them when they first entered.
“And so, gentlemen, what be yer pleasure this evenin’?” A young woman, face covered in makeup, seductively approached Jamie and William as they sat at the card table, Jamie collecting his gambling winnings in his hands.
“Aye, but I wouldn’t mind takin’ a bite outtae ye, lassie,” laughed William and pulled the woman to his lap. She giggled as William caressed her backside, and he took a sip of ale.
“Why don’t we take a break, lad? I’ve got me business tae attend tae.” William’s eyes remained fixed on the woman’s face as he led her away.
Women were always fawning over William with his strong arms and open smile. But women were always staring intently at Jamie, seemingly afraid to approach him. He was tall and intimidating with a large sprawling chest and a narrow waist. With his dark brown hair pulled back, and the shade of scruff on his face, he painted an exotic picture compared to the full Scottish lads with their fiery hair that filled these taverns. But, despite his half-English blood, he kept his green eyes, green as the Scottish hills, from his father, and they drew every woman’s attention.
As he sat back and drank his ale, he scanned the dark room and made eye contact with a few painted women, but he wasn’t sure if he had the energy for a romp that evening.What would William do?He laughed to himself.
After a few minutes, he saw a young blond woman approach him slowly with full red lips, breasts half pouring out the top of her bodice. He smiled and nodded. Maybe he did have the energy after all…
* * *
Amelia sat at the table in the sitting room, folding and unfolding the letter she’d received from Lady Kinnaird. She’d been accepted, and Lady Kinnaird would like to meet her that morning. She was excited, but she knew she couldn’t get her hopes too high. Perhaps the pay wouldn’t be enough to save for her father’s release from gaol.
It had been a week since Amelia and Henrietta had moved into the stone cottage, and what a change a week had made. Despite the drastic change of environment, she and her mother found themselves getting comfortable. Mrs. Fletcher was as good as her word and had sent a young woman named Sophie from the village to assist them with filling the pantry and cooking and a bit of cleaning. Amelia herself had dusted and scrubbed until the cottage was comfortable enough for a lady.
Despite the lack of furniture, Amelia had tried to arrange it in a pleasant style where her mother could enjoy the morning sun and write her letters. But, the fire was always to be going. Once, she’d forgotten to keep feeding it before bed, and she and her mother half froze to death in their bed.
Amelia sipped the tea she’d been given by Sophie that morning. Henrietta sat beside her at the table Amelia had arranged by the window.
“Amelia, you have done such wonderful things here. I’m starting to feel like I’m home. And I know that you will make the most perfect companion. You’re sweet, kind, intelligent, and brave. She will love you.”
“But what if she makes me stay with her in the castle? You’ll be all alone.” Amelia’s heart sank with this potential problem. Could she leave her mother to herself?
“Oh, I’ll be fine. You do what you must for Lady Kinnaird. I have enough to occupy me. I’m not as weak as you think, my daughter. I believe I’ll take up gardening when the weather warms.” Henrietta smiled over her teacup. “And, of course, I have Sophie to help me where I need it. But, if it would be possible, could you bring me a book or two when you visit again?”
Amelia heartily agreed and left her cup on the table and went to double check her reflection in the mirror. She wanted to appear strong and capable. Since their arrival, her appearance had changed greatly. Finally, the grime and dirt that clung to both of them after their journey had disappeared, and she looked less pale than she had before, but the worry still clung to her eyes as if it wouldn’t let go until all was resolved.
But her mother’s encouragement soothed her. She even felt excited at the chance to meet the lady of a castle and perhaps engage in healthy, intelligent conversations.
She’d chosen her best dress for the day, simple, but green and pretty, and also thick and warm. Her vanity pricked at her. She didn’t want Lady Kinnaird to know that she’d fallen from grace. So, she’d dressed appropriately but not overmuch.
The crunch of carriage wheels on gravel made her turn her head toward the door.
“Mother, I think Mr. Fletcher has arrived!”
“Enjoy, my dear! Here, take your poetry book with you. Write as much as you can.”
Henrietta smiled, but her eyes filled with tears.
“Mother, will you be all right without me?” Amelia held Henrietta’s hands in her own.
“Oh, of course, my dear. Now, you go, and send me word that all is well.”
