Page 40 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
“I am scared about what they would expect of me. The Laird might want more of me than what I am,” Amelie admitted, nibbling on her lip a little, Amelie admitted.
Ben shook his head slowly. “Lass, take the words of an old man that has nay children. If I had a child that I hadnae seen in nearly twenty years, I wouldnae care if the child is unlearned, poor or adversely, brilliant, or successful. All I would care about is if that child is alive. I would like to think that the Laird would feel the same.”
Looking at him for under her lashes, Amelie asked, “Ye do?”
“Aye,” Ben said. “And from what I heard, the Laird hasnae married again, so I think he truly loved his wife and his daughter. If he hadnae, he would have found another wife and had other bairns. He’s been searchin’ for ye for a long time, lass. Think about that too.”
Folding her arms in thought, Amelie realized that Damien had driven them to an inn, and after stopping at the gate, helped them out.
“This inn is under an order from the Laird to house the women who come to him about bein’ his daughter,” Damien explained. “But after the Laird sees them and rejects them, they must leave. We’re goin’ to be fine for a while here until we talk to the Laird. Somethin’ I’m goin’ to have to find out how we can do.”
“I’m pretty sure they are sick and tired of seein’ women come in and out,” Amelie laughed stiffly.
Her attempt at humor fell flat and Damien’s unsmiling lips showed it. He led them into the inn, the wide first floor separated by columns where one half had trestle tables and seats while the other held a desk and a thick ledger on it.
“Can I help ye, sirrah?” A bearded man asked while coming into the room. His thick red kilt was wrapped around his sturdy waist and pinned at his brawny shoulder. Before Damien could reply, his eyes landed on Amelie, while his mouth ticked up fleetingly. “I suppose this lass is for the Laird, aye?”
“Aye,” Damien nodded. “She is.”
His gaze moved from Damien to Ben, then back to Damien. “And what are ye? Her guardians? Companions? Ye’re her husband, mayhap?”
16
Me husband? Is that what he looks like?
“Husband nay, but we are both her guardians and companions,” Damien replied. The sharpness of the words made Amelie look at him. She felt her stomach tighten as his reaction to the husband comment. “If ye could get her and the elder into a room, I would like to ask ye a few questions.”
“Take a seat, I’ll be with ye in a moment. Me name’s Murdoch and I am a gatekeeper of sorts for his Lairdship,” the proprietor nodded to a chair. “I assess all the women who come our way. Right this way, miss and elder. Laird Dolberry asked that the women who come to him have a specific room. It’s on the first floor at the end, lookin’ out at the castle.”
Moving from behind Damien, Amelie grasped her pack and followed his burly form up the stairs, and to a room at the end of the hall. When the man opened the door, Amelie sucked in a breath—never had she seen such a grand room.
The bed looked strange to her as it had four posts at each corner, with thick hangings around them and mounds of pillows. The board floor had a thin rug running down the middle, at its side was a long daybed, and over to the corner was a copper bathtub.
“I see it’s to yer likin’,” the man laughed. “I’ll have a meal sent up for ye soon and a bath if ye would like.”
“T-Thank ye,” Amelie stuttered.
“Yer welcome, lassie,” he uttered. “Elder, yer room is this way.”
When the door closed behind them, Amelie dropped the pack on a chair and went to the window. Resting both hands on the sill, Amelie gazed out and up at the castle.
Did I live there once?
Tracing the snow-landed roofs and balustrades, Amelie felt a strange warm sensation in her heart, as if she were looking at something familiar. Yet she had never seen the place before, so she turned away, conflicted. Drifting back to the room, she traced her fingers over the tub and wondered how many women, believing themselves to be the Laird’s daughter had been there before her.
Eventually, she sank to the chair and brought her knees to her chin. Wrapping her arms around them she sighed heavily.
Damien had shattered her heart last night. The harsh, heartless tone he had used to rebuff her had dashed her growing hope that they could be together into smithereens.
Is it too much to hope that he had been lyin’? Is it too much to hope that I mean somethin’ to him?
* * *
Seated, Damien gazed out the window at the castle beyond with a growing sense of trepidation. Laird Dolberry was there, and what was to say that he would not throw him and Amelie out when they went to meet him.
The Laird had to be sick and tired of women coming to him, posing as his daughter. Damien knew he would have been disgusted after the third imposter had come to him. Yet Damien had to hold onto his hope that Laird Dolberry would still be searching for his daughter. The owner of the inn had not turned them away, so Damien took that as a good sign.
“Here lad,” the proprietor handed Damien a glass of cider into his hand. “Ye look like ye need it.”
