Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Amelia slipped into the corridor outside her room. Even though she’d been given permission to roam freely days ago, she hadn’t taken advantage of it until now. If it hadn’t been for how small her room felt when she awoke hours earlier, she still wouldn’t have ventured out.
“Do ye ever feel trapped?” she asked the painting across from her quarters.
The woman depicted stared back at her, her expression serene. Though as Amelia took a step closer, she noticed that the woman’s eyes were alert. Her expression, it seemed, was a facade.
“Ye werenae weak,” Amelia whispered, observing her posture which seemed at odds with the books she was posed next to. “But they wanted people to believe ye were.”
There wasn’t a response. Still, she stood in front of the painting for longer than was entirely necessary. Finally, she stepped away, feeling as though she would have gotten along with the subject.
The interior of the castle was beautiful, but she didn’t think she could take being inside for much longer. Grateful that she’d memorized the path from her chambers to the entrance, she set off. She made it as far as the great hall when she was stopped by Isla.
She stared up at Amelia, her head cocked to the side as she examined her. Nothing was said, no indication of what she was seeing. Finally, Amelia couldn’t take her scrutiny much longer.
“Is there somethin’ I should be aware of?” Amelia asked, smiling a bit despite herself.
“Overthinkin’ is nae good for recovery,” Isla said.
A wee lass like her shouldnae be so perceptive. It’s unsettlin’.
“Am I nae allowed to go on a walk?” Amelia challenged, keeping her expression neutral despite being so caught off guard by getting scolded by an overly serious child.
At that moment, hurried footsteps approached them from behind. Then, Jinny said, “Nay! Not when ye’re movin’ so fast I couldnae keep up with ye.”
“I dinnae intend to leave ye behind,” Amelia said, feeling a bit guilty for slipping away from her maid. “But I was also hopin’ to walk on me own.”
“Nae while ye’re healin’,” Isla said, crossing her arms and raising her chin, exuding an authority that felt incredibly similar to Mrs. Rowan’s. “Ye require a proper distraction.”
“And what,” Amelia asked, raising an eyebrow, “do ye suggest?”
Isla’s eyes drifted between Amelia and Jinny. A playful smile appeared on the girl’s face before she tempered it back to her normal, serious expression. What she said next was almost comical in its deadpan delivery.
“Hide and seek.”
“Isla,” Jinny said, the protest weak, “I daenae think that’s a good idea. Ladies daenae crawl under tables nor run about the corridors.”
“If ye daenae wish to hide, ye can guard the stairwell,” Isla told Jinny. “Alert us if there is anyone comin’.” Then, she turned back to Amelia. “I will count first. Ye will find somewhere clever to hide. Aye?”
A laugh bubbled out of Amelia’s belly. The words, delivered in the same manner that a general would address his troops, struck her as so absurd that she couldn’t control herself. The sound surprised not only her but the other two as well.
“I suppose,” Jinny said, smiling from ear to ear, “that ye two could play for a bit.”
“Now ye hide,” Isla announced, giddier than Amelia had ever seen her.
Then, without waiting for Amelia to respond, she put her hands over her eyes and began counting. For a moment, Amelia simply stood there in disbelief. It wasn’t until Isla’s counting became more dramatic that Amelia spun on her heel and began searching for a place to hide.
She took off down the corridor, wishing she knew which doors would open easily. The last thing she needed was to burst into a meeting or someone’s private chambers. Relief flooded through her when she spotted a small alcove leading to the servants’ stairs.
As she slipped inside the narrow hallway, Isla’s counting continued, though it was muffled by the growing distance between the two of them. The steps were steep, but Amelia continued climbing them. This may be a childish game, but she was confident she could win.
Her ascent slowed as she approached a platform at the top. It smelled of dust and old parchment, as if the place hadn’t been used in years. Though, as she looked around, she realized that some items hadn’t been here long enough to collect dust.
Seems I’ve found the storage area. And there are nay wee footprints. Isla may nae ken this bit of the castle exists.
“Ach, what’s this?” she murmured as she ran her hands over a tall object covered by a sheet. When she pulled the fabric aside, she was greeted with a distorted reflection of herself. “Aye, I wouldn’t want ye in me chambers either.”
She chuckled to herself as she let the sheet fall over the surface again.
Then, she picked her way through the dim maze of old furniture and retired paintings.
One of the paintings stuck out to her, a portrait of a laird that looked as if it were painted at the same time as the painting she’d spoken to this morning.
“What kind of ruler were ye? Is every single man who bears the title of Laird Fraser the type that willnae leave well enough alone?” Amelia asked, stopping in front of the canvas.
“Ye look as if ye’d be even less delicate about gettin’ information than the current laird.
I’m glad I daenae have to deal with ye.”
But that doesnae mean that I’m fond of the current Laird. Nae matter how me body reacts to him.
“Were ladies in yer castle frightened of ye?” she wondered aloud. “Or did the women in the village eagerly anticipate yer arrival like they do with Darragh? Is it possible to be both?”
She lingered for a few moments, contemplating. These paintings held no answers. They were but a moment in time that was long forgotten. Though she felt as though they could give her the guidance she needed, if only she could step through the frames.
Straightening, she continued to move through the upper level, the game of hide and seek mostly forgotten. She found herself picking up knick-knacks that she was sure hadn’t been displayed in years, rearranging them with a smirk on her face.
Perhaps the next person to come up here will believe there’s a ghost in the castle.
There was an amusing sort of freedom coursing through her. She was able to search through a storage area she’d yet to explore, and she’d been recruited for a game she’d stopped properly playing a few moments ago. Perhaps Isla was correct—she did need a distraction.
“A library?” she asked under her breath, peaking into a room. When she pushed the door, it stuck. “Whatever’s in there better be interestin’.”
She gritted her teeth then, shoving her shoulder against the wood.
The door flew open, revealing shelves upon shelves of ledgers and records that dated back long before she had been born.
As she stepped inside, a beam of light from the singular window cut through the dust, illuminating stacks of trunks, rolled maps, and old canvases leaning against the opposite wall.
“A records room, then,” she said to herself, curiosity compelling her forward, the game long forgotten.
She knelt beside them, looking through the canvases. There were several unfinished paintings, some of landscapes, others of people she assumed were long dead. None of them gave her pause.
It wasn’t until one with much brighter colors caught her attention. Her breath caught as she pulled it out. The gold, warm colors, and contrast were too enticing to ignore.
Her eyes were drawn first to a white deer stepping out of the forest. It was proud, its head held high. The creature was staring down a wolf, seemingly unafraid of the threat it posed.
The wolf was unlike any she’d seen in other paintings.
Rather than being painted gray or black as she’d seen in other depictions, it was golden.
The brushstrokes that created its fur were placed with deliberate care.
It reminded her of the way wheat fields in the autumn were painted, sunlight catching the bits of fur that were ruffled by the wind.
“She’s nae afraid of ye,” Amelia whispered to the wolf. “And ye’re nae plannin’ on eatin’ her, are ye?”
“Miss Amelia?” Jinny’s voice floated through the dusty room. Amelia hadn’t even realized she was being followed. “Who are ye talkin’ to?”
“Just meself,” Amelia said, not bothering to stand as the maid joined her in the room. “And me new friends.”
She turned then, shifting to the side so Jinny could see the painting. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Whatever she’d meant to say next was swallowed by the sound of small, hurried footsteps.
“Found ye!” Isla exclaimed triumphantly. With her hands on her hips, she surveyed the room. “I’ve never been up here before.”
“Saints,” Jinny said, walking over to the window and looking down. Her face paled a bit when she saw the height. “Ye scaled half the keep. We scaled half the keep.”
“What’s this?” Isla asked, going to one of the shelves and pulling a book free.
“Nay, nay,” Jinny said, sounding a bit nervous. “We shouldnae be up here. If the Laird finds us wanderin’ his tower room, we’ll be polishin’ floors for a month.”
“I will tell him I was simply explorin’ the keep, and ye came to find me,” Amelia assured, finally standing. “Nay one will be polishin’ floors.”
“Ach, easy for ye to say,” Jinny said, though there was no real heat in it. “Come, let’s get goin’. If we disappear up here, Mrs. Rowan will scold us, too.”
* * *
“Ye asked to see me, Me Laird?”
Mrs. Rowan stepped into his office, not bothering to sit. Darragh couldn’t fault her for it. She’d been dealing with the fallout of a training exercise gone wrong. Ewan had told him that the men were lucky to have escaped with minor injuries.
“Aye,” he confirmed. “I’d like a report on the men in yer care.”
“They’re all recoverin’ nicely,” she said. “One broken bone from a horse hoof. Several bruises and lacerations that looked much worse than they were. Do ye ken what spooked the animals?”
“Nay, nae yet,” he replied, resting his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers beneath his chin.
They had an idea, though he wasn’t keen on giving the keep any rumors to circulate.
The horses had reacted to an unseen trap they’d triggered that had been lying off the path.
A single step off the path, and a net had thrown a horse to the ground.
It hadn’t been one of Clan Fraser’s, but it was too early to put the blame on anyone else.
If only the bastards who set it had stuck around, I’d execute them on the spot.
“Ach, it may have been a snake,” Mrs. Rowan suggested. “All it takes is one beast to spot it, then all of them react poorly.”
“Aye, that’s a theory we’ve been discussin’,” he agreed, leaning back. “I’d also like yer report on Amelia. How has she been recoverin’?”
“Well,” Mrs. Rowan said, nodding as if pleased with herself, “I do believe she still has some bruisin’ on her ribs, but she claims it doesnae hurt any longer. Stubborn thing, that one.”
“Aye, the lass is,” he said, a smirk settling on his lips. “I’m nae surprised she’s healin’ so fast.”
His mind had been on Amelia since he’d been interrupted. Even as he dealt with the news Ewan had delivered tersely, his mind had been on the soft hitches of her breath as his hands climbed higher on her thighs. Had they been given even a bit more time…
Ach, I cannae think about this in polite company.
“She seems like the type to get restless,” Mrs. Rowan hummed after a beat.
“She’s able to explore the castle,” he said gruffly, knowing that the healer was right. “That should keep her occupied for a bit.” Then, firmly putting that subject to bed, he asked, “Do ye have a list of supplies ye need from the herbalist in the village? I will send for them today.”
As she began to list all the supplies, including measurements that didn’t quite make sense to Darragh, his thoughts drifted back to Amelia.
There was a part of him that wanted to confine her to her room once more as he investigated the trap.
The only thing stopping him from making the decree this second was the look Mrs. Rowan fixed him.
There was certainly some argument that Amelia needed to be able to roam freely for her recovery.
I willnae allow the threat to breach the walls of the keep. Amelia will have her freedom within the safety of me castle.