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They passed through rows and rows of luscious greenery as they approached the house. It was still keeping itself up although he could see that no one had invested in this place for quite a while. Even with such neglect, the place still produced wonderful wines which held a high price amongthe ton.That was the most amazing part.
“Father keeps the finest wines in the cellar,” she announced as they entered the house and immediately headed down through a big door which probably should have been kept locked, he thought to himself.
As they descended the stairs, she still held onto him, this time more firmly. A chilly breath of air pushed past them as they went down. He could smell mold, dirt, and sour grapes. Most of those things he expected. When they finally descended, he realized that she was right. Before them, there were endless rows of carefully stacked wines, nestled softly under a thin layer of dust and cobwebs.
She released his hand and walked over to the middle of the shelves, extracting a single bottle. She blew onto the label, looking at it longingly. Then, she turned to him.
“This wine was my mother’s favorite,” she revealed with a note of melancholy in her voice.
He walked over to her, taking it from her hands. It was pinot noir. He liked it although it was not his own favorite. Carefully, he offered it back to Amelia, who just shook her head.
“Keep it,” she said. “It is yours, after all.”
He thought about it for a moment then his heart betrayed him with the following offer. “Why don’t we open it for dinner tonight?”
He thought she would refuse. He thought she would want to keep it. After all, he didn’t know how many more of these bottles there were. But instead, she simply smiled in that appreciative, shy manner.
“I’d like that,” she told him.
She looked around, inhaling deeply. This was the first time he actually realized how much the winery meant to her. He always thought that it was just her father’s business, something she did not know or care much about, but he was wrong. He could see that now. It was a part of her family as much as his own house was a part of his family. It was wrong of him to try to steal it from them.
But then, he had an idea. If it was his, it was still hers, just like he told her. She could help him repair it, make it the best winery in all of England.
“This place is very big,” he said, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. She turned to him, listening. “I shall need help with ideas on how to repair it, how to make it what it once was.” She was watching him with her eyes wide and hopeful. “Can I count on your help with it?”
She gasped silently. She wasn’t expecting him to ask her that. To be quite honest, he caught even himself off guard with this suggestion. But once it was out, filling the air between them, he could not think of anything more natural, more necessary than this.
“Nothing would make me happier,” she managed to muster. He could hear the joy in her voice as she tried to subdue it.
Something had happened. He knew it. He could sense it. He dared not pinpoint it, even in his mind, but he knew it was there. That was enough.
“Why don’t we go upstairs now?” she suggested, glancing at the stairs. He welcomed the distraction. “I can show you the rest of the house.”
He nodded with a smile.
Indeed, something had happened. And he welcomed it.
CHAPTER12
That afternoon, Amelia was seated in the drawing room with Jane by her side. She felt like she had not seen her dear sister in a whole lifetime, and it seemed that Jane shared that sentiment as the two sisters sat on the sofa, huddled together, unwilling to be even an inch apart.
“So, tell me all!” Jane exclaimed, holding Amelia’s hand in her own as if her sister was just a mirage, and she might disappear any moment, so Jane needed to feel her presence physically at all times.
“Honestly, I do not know where to start,” Amelia chuckled at her sister’s enthusiasm which she welcomed as it warmed her heart.
“Why don’t you start with those lovely drapes in the hallway?” Jane noticed. “I did not see them when we were here for the wedding breakfast.”
“Well, since I shall be living here in this ghastly place, I decided to liven it up a little,” Amelia pointed out.
Then, she realized that she should not have called it ghastly. It was unfair of her. Ghastly would mean that it was unlivable, that ghosts and ghouls inhabited it, and that no human being should ever be caught dead or alive in there. The truth was, this place was haunted by nothing other than memories. In that respect, which home was not haunted?
She did not wish to exorcise those ghosts of memories. She merely wished to remind everyone in this house that life went on. Death was a part of life just like everything else was. It was all right to mourn, to be sad, but she doubted that Arthur’s mother and father wished him to wallow in misery for the rest of his life. Perhaps a slight change might remind him that it was all right to hold onto memories of dear deceased ones while still moving on with his life in any direction he wished.
As soon as she thought of this, her mind flooded her with images of the dream she had. How he kissed her, held her, how he caressed her nipples, how he –
“Amelia, are you all right?” Jane’s concerned voice brought her back from the tumultuous storm of her own memories. “You seem flushed all of a sudden, Jane pointed out. “Should I fetch for some water?”
“Oh, no, no,” Amelia almost chuckled out loud at her sister’s sweet naivety and concern. “I am perfectly fine.”
