Page 55 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
“Very,” Amelie replied. “But nae so badly that he wouldnae come. I fear that somethin’ has happened.”
“I’ll send out some troops to search for him,” her father replied. “Even see if he crossed the town border.”
“I daenae think he ran away,” Amelie said. “He isnae a coward.”
A warm, heavy hand rested on her shoulder. “Ye ken, I fell in love with yer maither by accident. She came to me territory by mistake and when I saw how scared, distressed, and hopeless she was, I found meself more sympathetic than attracted, but days later, when I saw her gentle, loving-nature and aye, her utter beauty, I fell in love with her. It ripped me to me core when I lost her. I daenae want ye to suffer the same thing.”
Turning into his hold, Amelie hugged him tightly. “Thank ye, faither.”
“Now, about this McLowe person,” Colin said, his brows furrowing. “What is it about him? Why is Damien so set on being loyal to him?”
“Like he told ye,” Amelie said, a bit confused. “He took Damien in when his parents abandoned him. I would think that makes a life-long bond. And I can understand, he saved me life too. On the way here a woman who was fixated with Damien attacked me and Ben saved me from her.”
“Hmm,” her father replied. “Even with that, I think there is somethin’ strange about him. What do ye ken about him other than him being a surrogate father to Damien?”
“I—” then suddenly she frowned, casting through her mind she realized that she hardly knew anything about Ben. “—I cannae say. Why do ye ask?”
He rubbed his beard. “Amelie, bein’ a Laird makes one grow with a few select traits, such as sensin’ when a person is tellin’ ye a half-truth. In me case, and with the scores of imposters tryin’ to be ye, I have gained deeper insights into how deceptive men can be. I think there is somethin’ off about this Ben.”
“Like what?” Amelie asked. “All through our journey here, he wasnae anythin’ but helpful and kind.”
“I daenae ken, lass,” her father shrugged. “But I ken one thing, money makes people do some unheard of and sometimes cruel things to get it.”
“And ye think Ben is deceivin’ me…trickin’ us?” Amelie asked, trying—and failing—to see how Ben could do something so underhanded.
Her father’s broad shoulders shrugged. “As I said, I daenae ken, lass, but time can only tell. Tell me what Damien looks like so I can inform me men on who to look for.”
Going to a seat with her father, Amelie described Damien in detail, telling him how tall he was, about his dark hair, bright blue eyes, and his skin tone.
“He has scars on his thigh and back,” Amelie uttered, unthinkingly, then went red. The only way she could have seen those things were if she had seen him naked and the knowing look her father gave her made her want to shrink into a ball. “I…erm—”
He patted her leg. “Daenae ye worry about it, lass, ye’re a grown woman.”
Sighing in relief, Amelie nodded. “Thank ye.”
“Now, while I speak with me men, go to yer room, I have sent ye a few things I believe ye will love. There are some mementoes yer maither left behind,” her father said as he stood with the help of his cane. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Daenae ye worry about Damien. If he as scrappy and persistent as ye say, he’ll be fine.”
While he went off, Amelie spared one last look at the town before going back to the room her father had given her, wondering what gifts her brought for her now.
Laying on her bed were a small golden framed portrait, a golden brooch, a small swaddling blanket and lastly, a leather-bound book. Before reading the book, she took up the framed portrait. The painting was of her mother’s face, and Amelie bit her lip at seeing the same warm, honey-toned eyes that peered back at her through the mirror.
Her mother’s oval face had arched cheekbones, softly rounded cheeks that tapered into a quaint little chin. She had light brown wavy locks, that curled at her temples and from the tresses spilling over her bust, had some warm auburn streaks too. Yet Amelie kept going back to her mother’s eyes, framed by warm dark lashes and brows.
Amelie’s fingers ran over an inscription on the back and she spun it to read,My lovely daughter, Evelina Scatterheart.Turning back the frame, Amelie wondered if her mother’s parents had given it to her. She could see why her father felt stunned by her mother’s face, but he had told her that it was her caring nature that had brought them together.
Reaching for the book, she opened it and smiled at the fluent script there. What drew her attention were the fingermarks she saw pressed into leather and on the pages themselves.
Faither read this over at lot, to keep a part of her with him, I imagine. I wonder what love that spans over decades feels like?
* * *
Damien could see blocks of ice floating down the river and for the hundredth time, wondered how it was that Ben had carried him so far into the woods and how he had even crossed a river.
Or perhaps he hadnae come this way.
Yet he could not see another way. Walking down the riverside, Damien tried to find a shallower path to cross over. It was nearly sundown and he knew if he did not pass over soon, he would have to wait to morning. He found a section that looked shallow and began to wade through it.
He was halfway through the icy water, his face set in a rigor of pain when his footing literally gave way under him and he sank under it. Frigid water encased him and when the shock that turned him motionless vanished, panic seized him.
