Page 57 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
Looking up at him, Amelie wryly said, “He’s a thief, faither, that’s why he feels so unmatched to me.”
Colin’s lips flattened. “That would certainly force him to think that way. Ye are a daughter of a Laird.”
“But he is a good man, faither. His life is just a bad turn after another and I feel he only resorted to bein’ a thief because there werenae any other options for him,” Amelie then sighed. “He told me some horrible, heart wrenchin’ stories about his life, how nay one would care for him and he had been forced to survive. I’d think if one grows up feelin’ worthless and unwanted, he might think that is all he is.”
“He cared for ye on the way here?” her father asked. “Dinnae leave ye to fend for yerself?”
“Nay,” Amelie shook her head. “Nae once. He paid for inn rooms and when we had to stay in the woodland, he hunted and cooked as well.”
“And what about his life back in Inverness?” her father asked.
“I daenae think he has much of a home there,” Amelie replied. “I think he is a traveler, only goin’ back to the city to see Ben at times.”
“Hmm, it’s nae much incentive to for ye to marry a man like that, one who after I pass, by way of marriage, is goin’ to take up the Lairdship after me, but then again,” her father paused, and looked at her shrewdly. “I daenae think ye will be happy with another, someone who was born and bred into this lifestyle, would ye?”
“Nay, I wouldnae,” Amelie confirmed, happy that her father had correctly seen another fear that concerned her. “I think it would be unfair on me and him.”
Her father sat back and nodded. “I see, but mark ye, I will need to talk to this Damien before I give me consent.”
“I wouldnae expect anythin’ else,” Amelie said, while reaching out and grasping his hand. “Thank ye for understandin’.”
“Ye sit tight,” Colin covered her hand with his. “We will find him, and he’ll be fine.”
I hope so.
* * *
By supper the next day, Amelie felt drained. Worrying about Damien was still occupying her heart and she had looked out of the window so many times that she felt she could draw every house in the town by memory.
She had managed to take a walk and her feet took her to the small garden with the fountain and frozen pond. No words could describe how much she wanted to show Damien this place, to thank him for his faith in believing that she was the Laird’s daughter and his courage to take here there.
No word had come from her father’s men about Damien and soon, her worst fears started to set in.
What if he is dead? What if someone has taken him and buried his body? What if they threw him into a river—I will never see him again.
The sun was dipping but its pale hue of silver and gold lingered over the mountaintops. Her shoulders hunched and her palms flattened on the wooden seat.
“Damien…where are ye?”
The only answer she got was the hollow whistle of the wind, and the howl of a wolf in the woodland beyond. The urge to cry began to burn the backs of her eyes and she clenched her lids tight.
She heard the soft shuffle of Ben’s feet and barely shifted when he sat near her.
“Amelie, lass…” he said slowly, “…tis been three days. I fear that Damien has run away.”
Her eyes opened. “Why do ye think he has run, Ben? I fear someone took him and somethin’ horrible has happened to him.”
“Nay, Amelie,” he shook his head. “Damien is nae known to be committed to anythin’. He doesnae get attached to anythin’ much and he certainly isnae known to stay in one place too much. Damien is a roamin’ wolf, Amelie.”
“Are ye sayin’…” she swallowed tightly, “…that he deserted me?”
Ben took her hand. “The boy’s life isnae yers, Amelie. He scarcely kens right from wrong and he chooses wrong most of the time. With ye, he kens he is goin’ to be forced to stay on the good side of things and he probably cannae bear givin’ up the life he kens. He left ye, Amelie. Take me wise words, he’s a selfish lad and he’s nay worth savin’, lass.”
Covering her face, Amelie bent her head into her hands, bowled over by grief. It felt horrible, humiliating, and cutting that Damien had not even given her the courtesy of telling her how he felt before he had run off. To think he knew how she felt about him, but apparently, he had not cared.
Ben rubbed her arm in sympathy. “I’m sorry lass, I ken ye care for him but ye would be better off without him.”
Tears began to swell over her eyes, and they trailed down her cheeks, spilling over her hands. Ben softly pulled her into his shoulder, stroking her thick auburn hair hanging loose about her shoulders. Amelie could only tuck her head under his chin and cry quietly into his shirt.
