Page 46 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
As she tucked into her food, a succulent meat pie, Amelie could feel Hana’s eyes on the back of her head. After swallowing a bite, she turned. “Erm, sorry?”
Hana pinked. “It’s nae ye, Miss, tis just that me maither was a maid here and she saw Lady Evelina Dolberry the night me Laird had carried her home. Maw told me the lady had lovely green and gold eyes, and ye have the same, if I am any judge. Of all the women who have come here, I believe ye are the one. His Lairdship does things for a reason, and if he brought ye here, he must have a good one.”
Hana curtsied and left the room for Amelie to finish her meal. As the hours slid by, she paced the room through and through. She was getting tired and though she felt antsy and reluctant, she went to the bed and laid there. Tiredness and worry dragged her into a deep sleep and soon her worries started to flit away.
* * *
Three days had passed since Amelie had been taken to the Laird’s home and she was slowly getting acclimatized to the lush show of luxury around her. Every day she had three meals and could call for more if she wanted.
On the first evening, her pack had been sent to her, and thankfully, there, in her coat, still in her inside pocket was her gold pendant. Which she had taken out and worn ever since she had found it. Then, on the second day, five dresses, three cloaks, sturdy boots and thick shawls had been given to her, by Hana on behalf of the Laird, who she had still only seen once.
That was worrying her, because she had a creeping feeling that the man had seen her more than she had.
Left alone to herself, she worried about Ben and Damien and how they were faring with no word from her, and then she worried, and paced some more.
Damien, please come and see me. I hate how things are between us. I want us to make things right…I miss ye.
The bedchamber seemed a bit too small when she paced so. On the third evening, she dressed in a thick tartan dress, new boots, and a cloak, before she left the castle and decided to wander the grounds. She found a door that led her to the outside and after walking around, spotted an arch of dry twisted vines and felt drawn to it.
As she slipped under the archway, she nearly tripped over her feet.
Right before her eyes was the fountain she had seen in her dream and beside it was the same frozen pond. Swallowing, Amelie inched forward and rested her fingertips on the cold, ice-coated stone.
“Jesu…” she whispered.
It was real, all of it was real. The shrubs behind the fountain were dry, but her mind had them blooming with vivid red, soothing blue and sunny yellow. The ground was covered with snow and when she kicked at a lump of it, hard black-brown dirt came up, but Amelie knew that the grass there would be thick, soft, and emerald green.
She went to the edge of the pond, flapped her skirts and crouched at the edge of it. The water was frozen all through but fish, fireflies and lily pads flickered behind the glass-like surface.
This had been her home. A home that was stolen from her, a mother that was killed and a father that had not been able to stop her from being taken away.
Tears began to bead at her eyes, and hot, salty drops fell down her cheeks at the thought off all she had lost.
As always, when she felt distress, Amile began humming the old tune that she did not know the words to, but had the melody engraved on her heart. It always calmed her, but now —with the knowledge that she had been denied a good life—the calming tune did not work.
“I ken if ye were me daughter ye would find yerself back here,” the rough, ragged voice of Laird Dolberry said from behind her. “T’was yer favorite place a child.”
Startled, Amelie stood and turned to him, as he walked toward her using his cane. Amelie was breathless when he reached out and grasped her chin with a rough hand, tilting her head up to look into her eyes.
His mouth thinned and he swallowed heavily. “Amelie, tis ye.”
“A-aye,” she whispered. “All me life that was all I ken. I had nay clan name to call me own.”
Instead of answering, Laird Dolberry hugged her tightly, embracing her so hard that her feet were lifted off the ground. Held closely against him, Amelie finally felt a sense of completion inside her soul.
After years of wondering what had happened to her parents, she finally knew who she was.
She was stunned when she felt a tear drop down the side of her neck and instantly felt the urge to cry as well. She pressed her face into the folds of the Laird’s draped kilt and allowed some tears of her own to fall.
Her father pulled her to a bench nearby and they sat. When he pulled away, his eyes were red. Laird Dolberry reached around her neck and plucked the gold pendant that hung there. His thumb ran over it and his eyes misted over.
“Ye even carry Evelina’s gift…all these years, ye still have it.”
“I dinnae ken her name was Evelina until Miss Hana told me.” Amelie asked. “Is me name English?”
“Aye, yer name is an English one, because yer maither wanted it and I couldnae—wouldnae—refuse her,” he said as he pulled her, one-armed, into another warm embrace. “And the tune ye were hummin’, it was yer maither’s lullaby to ye. She sung it every night and even the days when ye were fussy.”
Muffled against his chest, Amelie said, “I daenae ken the words.”
