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“Father shall be very happy to hear that,” Jane announced.
Amelia doubted it. The very fact that he had sold it to their own competitor – and not only that, but he also sold off his daughter as well, for what else could it be considered – assured her that their father had little concern regarding what would eventually happen to the winery. However, she was grateful for the chance to keep it in the family, so to speak. Her mother would have liked that.
“Yes,” Amelia agreed, choosing not to disagree with her sister.
There were certain things which Amelia felt her sister was still too young to know and comprehend. Keeping her oblivious to the pain of life for a few more years seemed like a good thing to do. Eventually, everyone felt how cruel life could get on their own skin. Jane’s time would come soon enough. Before that happened, Amelia would do everything in her power to keep Jane sheltered and safe.
Amelia walked over to the window and glanced into the garden. For a moment, she hoped that she would see Arthur, but the garden was empty. It looked slightly more orderly without all those dreadful weeds ruining the grass and the potential flowerbeds which might eventually find their home there. She could already imagine how beautiful the garden would look in just a few months. Perhaps she could do the same to this dreary house as well.
She turned to her sister, smiling. “So, do you have any idea what color gown you wish to purchase?”
Jane squealed in delight at the question, and words immediately started to spill out of her mouth with such speed that one word already started before the other had time to end properly. First, she wanted a peach-colored gown with puffed sleeves. Then, she wanted something a bit darker, perhaps a cerulean blue with long sleeves. Her third wish was something exactly the opposite, and she kept coming up with different colors and different types of gowns while Amelia listened and smiled, enjoying the moment of her sister’s pure happiness, fearing that as time passed by, there might be less and less of them.
CHAPTER13
Two more weeks had passed. Two more confusing weeks, and with each passing day, Arthur was more and more confused as to what he should do and how he should behave. To his utter shock, he was finding Amelia’s presence soothing. He didn’t even need to see her. The very fact that she was there brought a strange sense of calm, and his desire to see her and speak to her would be satiated every single day during dinner time.
She would appear looking more and more enchanting every evening as if she were doing it on purpose to tempt him. But she surely was doing no such thing. She had made it clear that they were merely living together without any desire for any physical attachment or contact. He agreed with it, only he agreed back when he thought that he would feel the same. To his great distress, looking at her was not enough anymore. He longed to touch her, and every time he had the chance to lead her by the hand, he seized it, like a man dying of thirst seized a glass filled with crystal clear water. Desperately, unwilling to ever let go of it again.
That afternoon, they found themselves at the winery again. Some works had already started on the building, and he passed through the house, just to assure that everything was going according to plan. She remained outside, waiting for him, but when he exited, she was not where she said she would be.
He frowned, looking about. She was nowhere to be seen. He was certain that her cream-colored gown would stand in stark contrast with the greenery around her, and yet, his eye could not find her. He considered calling after her. He could always say that he was worried. After all, it was a vast estate with wells and…
Oh, bother, he thought to himself. He could not say that he was worried about her when she knew this place better than he did. If she had disappeared, she did so out of her own accord because she wanted to be alone. He instantly became annoyed with himself. Here he was, rejoicing that they would spend the afternoon together, strolling through the vineyards, and the moment he turned his back on her, she disappeared.
He felt silly. But the worst thing was that she made everything clear, and yet, he was still hoping that –
“Is everything all right?” He suddenly heard her voice come from somewhere behind him.
He quickly turned around, only to see her before him in all her glory. She was smiling. Her cheeks were slightly flushed as if she had been running. He resisted the temptation to ask her where she was. He didn’t feel like he had any right to ask her that. He was not her keeper. Even though he wanted to ask her out of sheer worry – all right, there was some curiosity in there as well – but he feared that someone as confident and stubborn as Amelia would not understand it as such and might even see it as an invasion of her privacy, so he quickly swallowed that question.
“Of course,” he nodded, smiling back. “The reparations are coming along nicely. I am assured that we shall have this place up and running in a matter of weeks.”
“Weeks?” Her eyes turned into two big orbs of light. “I didn’t think it would be that soon.”
“Well, we don’t want all these grapes to go to waste, do we?” he asked, gesturing at the vineyard to their left which extended as far as the eye could see, abundant in both dark and green grapes.
“No,” she agreed.
“Would you like to go back to the house?” he suggested, doubting that she would want to take a stroll through the vineyard now. The sun was high up in the sky. He personally loved the feel of it on his face, even when it was slightly warmer, but he knew that ladies had a tendency to shy away from it. He could not understand why when gently sun-kissed skin had that healthy glow, but he never understood women’s fashion nor tried to. It was something he steered clear of at any given moment.
He knew that there were some papers which they needed to go over together, and her father told him that Amelia had a good eye for business. At first, Arthur doubted this. Business was not something women should meddle in, just like men shouldn’t meddle in women’s fashion. He was taught that there was simply a line that needed to be drawn between who could do what. That was how he lived most of his life.
He believed that Amelia’s father was exaggerating. But when Amelia came to see him in his own home, demanding her rights, just one day after they had met and it was decided that they would be married, Arthur knew that she was no ordinary woman. She was unlike any other woman he had ever met before, and he was becoming more and more assured of this with each passing day. She had already discussed some business ideas regarding the winery which he considered very good. In fact, they were exceptionally good, and he could not wait to put them in motion. Now, he was also eager to go over those documents and see what the winery’s real losses were over the course of the past several years and how they could be prevented in the future. As it turned out, Amelia had ideas for that as well.
However, right now, there was nothing he would have liked more than to simply walk with her, hand in hand, even if they wouldn’t be talking. Just her very presence would be enough.
“I think there is a whole box of documents we need to go through,” he reminded her. “I doubt we can do them all today, but perhaps, we could start.”
She didn’t say anything at first. She looked at him then somehow through him. He realized that he might be enjoying himself far too much in her presence. It was something he could not allow himself to do. He had to keep reminding himself that she was simply a means to an end. He bought the winery, but the true purpose of that purchase was to secure a bride. His reputation was growing more and more disagreeable in the passing years, and he knew that he would not be able to marry a respectable lady unless he forced her to.
It was not the choice in life he saw himself take. Not in a million years. In fact, he remembered a time when he was a respectable member of society, back when his parents were still alive, and his future seemed brighter than the sun. It could not have ended more differently. He felt bad when he thought about it, so he tried not to think. It was easier that way.
“It’s a lovely day,” she replied, surprising him. “It would be such a shame to waste it being inside. Why don’t we talk a little walk instead?”
He could not believe what he was hearing at first. “A walk?” he echoed, swallowing heavily. A part of him assured him he was mistaken.
“Mhm,” she murmured softly, already by his side. “Over there, behind those rows of vines,” she said, impolitely pointing with her index finger, but he was far too immersed in what she was saying to pay attention to proprieties of behavior, “that was where my sister and I used to play while our parents were here.”
