Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
“Seems ye’ve been sippin’ me scotch,” Lucas observed as he opened the glass bottle of liquor, not bothering to call over the maid. There was an amused expression on his face, his body angled slightly toward her.
“Nay. I think ye must be drinkin’ faster than ye realize,” Flora said, though her face was flushed and her movements more languid. “Daenae blame me for somethin’ ye’ve done. It’s unbecomin’.”
She turned to Amelia then, a cheeky smile on her face. When Flora winked, Amelia nearly laughed aloud. It was only Lucas turning around and speaking directly to her that stopped the giggle from escaping.
“Ye should come visit us at Castle McGowan sometime, Amelia.” He walked over to the settee, reclaiming his seat next to Flora. She scooted closer, failing to keep the motion hidden. “Our solar may nae be as nice as yers, but ye’ve never seen a library as stocked as ours.”
Amelia nodded, unable to speak. Her mind was caught on the implication that Fraser Keep could belong to her in any capacity. Perhaps he was speaking to Darragh, who was sitting next to her. Her eyes flitted to the Laird, but she looked back at Lucas almost immediately. Darragh was too close.
Lucas was looking right at me. He wasnae speakin’ to anyone but me.
“Perhaps when things settle, we’ll plan a visit,” Darragh replied, shifting beside her, the cushion dipping and bringing her closer against her will.
A strange thrill of warmth ran up her spine. It was tempered with confusion and an impulse to get even closer. She had to thread her fingers together in her lap to keep herself still.
We? When did I become part of we? With Darragh?
“Ye have to stay longer than ye did last time,” Flora said to Darragh, not flinching as Lucas grabbed her hand. In fact, she seemed to soften even further.
Amelia hadn’t been sure what she expected when she walked into the solar nearly an hour prior. She’d been so absorbed with the revelation that she wasn’t a prisoner to her name that she hadn’t considered what spending a casual evening with Darragh and the McGowans would look like.
I dinnae think it would be so warm and comfortable. I’m certain of that.
Once more, her eyes darted to Darragh. Undeniably, it was his presence that made her so content.
Even opening up to Flora would have been impossible if it weren’t for him.
Unfolding her hands and recrossing her ankles, she tried not to dwell on the realization.
Not when Darragh was close enough to touch.
“Ach, well, the last time I was at Castle McGowan, I was on business,” Darragh pointed out, his words a little looser with the effects of the drink. The quality of his voice warmed her all over. “Next time we visit, it will be a social call.”
“I believe,” Lucas said, leaning close enough to Flora that their forearms were pressed together, “that ye should be goin’ on more social calls, Laird Fraser. Seems ye’ve nae had any time to breathe in months.”
He’s nae wrong about that.
“I could say the same thing about ye,” Darragh replied, quick but not quite biting. It was as playful a challenge as a man like him would issue. “When’s the last time ye took time to yerself?”
“I’m takin’ time to meself right now,” Lucas countered with a smirk. His thumb ran over Flora’s knuckles as she laughed quietly, seeming pleased that his joke had been successful with her.
The motion caught Amelia off guard. It was difficult not to stare at the subtle display.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen such casual affection, and she couldn’t fathom how Flora could be so at ease around a man.
Discomfort that she couldn’t quite explain bubbled under the surface of her skin.
It seemed to only get sharper when Darragh spoke, reminding her just how close they were to each other.
“Ye kent I meant before this very moment,” Darragh scoffed before taking a sip of his drink to hide his own amusement. “Ye’re bein’ obtuse on purpose.”
“I wasnae,” Lucas insisted, sharing a private look with Flora. In that brief moment, an entire conversation passed between them that neither Amelia nor Darragh was privy to. “Ye asked me a question, and I answered.”
Again, Flora let out a soft little giggle.
And this time, Amelia was even more aware of the casual intimacy unfolding before her.
She looked away, suddenly embarrassed for intruding, though they didn’t seem bothered at having an audience.
Her eyes landed on Darragh, who was already looking at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher that made her stomach swoop at his handsome face.
The image of the couple in front of them played in Amelia’s mind again without her permission. It wasn’t Flora and Lucas, though. It was she and Darragh.
She shivered so sharply that she couldn’t help but show it. Her hand felt empty. Her side felt a few degrees too cold.
Her face flamed as she realized with mild horror that perhaps she didn’t hate the idea of that with Darragh. In fact, the thought of sharing an evening with the couple, behaving exactly as Darragh had behaved at the moment, seemed… nice.
Quickly, before anyone could see how affected she was, she looked at her lap. As discreetly as she could, she dried her palms on the front of her gown. She focused on the sound of the logs crackling in the fire as she willed her blush to fade and her heart to stop racing.
Beside her, Darragh shifted, the cushion dipping and moving her even closer to him. She could nearly feel the heat rolling off of him. He said something to Lucas, but it was fuzzy. She shook her head slightly, looking at the couple once more.
“Are ye feelin’ well, Amelia?” Flora asked, leaning forward without pulling her hand away from Lucas. “Ye look a bit… distracted.”
“Aye,” Amelia said, giving her a slight smile as her blush came back in full force. “I think I just had a wee bit too much wine earlier.”
It was a lie, though. She’d only sipped at the glass she’d been offered, too afraid of the alcohol loosening her limbs and lips. No, she was simply suffering from the realization that she wanted something that she couldn’t give to herself.
Our situation is nae that simple. That could never belong to us. To me.
She waited with bated breath for the attention to drift away from her. A knock at the door saved her as everyone turned to look. She felt Darragh stiffen next to her when he spotted the messenger coming in. All of a sudden, the room felt ten degrees cooler.
* * *
“I hope ye have a good reason for interrupting,” Darragh said, pushing himself to his feet. The glare he leveled at the man was sharp enough to cut glass, and it was clear the messenger felt the weight of it.
From the corner of his eye, he sensed Amelia’s entire demeanor cool. She let out a slow, steady exhale, but it was too deliberate.
All that work gettin’ her at ease, gone just like that.
Stepping away from the group, he crossed his arms over his chest. He’d given instructions to direct non-urgent matters to Ewan while he was socializing with his guests. The look on the messenger’s face was enough to tell him that something serious had arisen.
Yet he’s just standin’ there, actin’ as if I’m the most frightenin’ thing in the Highlands.
“Well?” Darragh prompted again, poorly concealing his irritation at the delay.
The messenger cleared his throat, looking thoroughly scolded. “Me apologies for intrudin’, Me Laird,” he said, holding himself a little straighter and meeting Darragh’s eye. “I’ve come to inform ye that a letter was intercepted by our guards from a courier travelin’ between northern estates.”
Darragh grunted, his fingers curling into fists.
He heard Lucas sitting forward behind him, and he felt Amelia’s eyes burning into the scene.
He contemplated insisting that the rest of the message be heard in the corridor, but it was already too late for that.
Everyone’s interest was piqued. Lucas would no doubt question him about it when he returned.
“Ewan has examined the letter,” the messenger said, taking Darragh’s silence as a cue to continue.
“Laird Mackenzie seeks to acquire strategic grazing lands and timber rights across multiple territories. He intends to visit several lairds personally in the coming weeks to negotiate alliances and purchases.”
The last sentence barely registered in Darragh’s mind. At the name ‘Mackenzie,’ Amelia had sucked in a harsh breath. It took everything in him to keep from turning around to check on her.
She’s liable to lash out if anyone draws attention to her.
“I thought the Mackenzie line near collapsed after the trade disputes last winter,” Lucas said quietly, the first to process the information.
“Nay, Me Laird,” the messenger replied with a shake of his head. “We’ve been investigatin’ for most of the day. Laird Mackenzie is stronger than ever. He’s bought debt from three clans and turned a profit on all of it.”
“Which clans?” Darragh asked, needing every bit of information that he’d missed while playing the part of gracious host. His entire body sharpened, well-controlled rage kicking to life in his chest, the need to protect his people overriding all else.
“Smaller ones, Me Laird,” the messenger replied. “I will get ye the reports. But it seems as if Laird Mackenzie is findin’ ways to thrive.”
“And the letter?” Darragh pressed.
“Ach, aye,” he replied, pulling the envelope from his inner pocket. “I will ensure the rest of the information is left in yer study before I return to me post.”
“Thank ye for bringin’ this,” Darragh said, running his thumb over the dark green wax seal. “But ye willnae be ridin’ back at this hour.” He looked over his shoulder at the maid standing by. “Prepare a room and a meal for this man.”
“Aye, Me Laird,” she squeaked before walking up to the messenger. “If ye’ll follow me, sir.”
Darragh stood in place as the two left the room. It wasn’t until he was sure that they wouldn’t need anything else from him that he opened the letter. As he read over it, he walked back to the group.
“Seems as though everythin’ he’s said is true,” Darragh confirmed, sliding the parchment across the low table between them.
As Lucas grabbed the missive, Amelia stood abruptly.
She covered the movement by rubbing her palms against her upper arms, moving quickly toward the fire.
Despite the fact that she had her back to them, Darragh had seen the way color drained from her face.
He had felt just how desperate her movements were.
While Lucas read, Flora glancing over his shoulder, Darragh examined the crest in the wax. It was a stag, standing proud against the rich color of the broken seal. Its antlers brushed the top boundary of the circular etching. It was elegant and, more importantly, distinctive.
That must be what she saw that shook her.
He didn’t say anything, taking in the stiffness of Amelia’s body. She was prepared to run, almost as if she expected a threat to come bursting through the door at any moment. That was the posture not of curiosity but of recognition. Of fear.
“This is goin’ to change things significantly,” Lucas said, placing the letter on the table in front of him. “Dependin’ on who he enters agreements with, trade routes may change.”
“Aye,” Darragh agreed, taking his seat again.
Even though he was shifting his focus to strategy, he was still attuned to Amelia and the way she seemed to be struggling to take full breaths.
“That doesnae even take into consideration what will happen to lumber pricin’.
It seems he’s tryin’ to rebuild the wealth that he lost when his trade agreements failed him.
It wouldnae be surprisin’ if costs soar. ”
“Ye’re right,” Lucas said, leaning forward and stroking his beard. “We may need to prepare for Clan Mackenzie to become more prominent.”
Amelia’s shoes slid slightly on the stone beneath her almost involuntarily.
She attempted to cover it by marching in place for a few paces, but she wasn’t fooling him.
As if he were attuned directly to her moods, he could almost feel her reaction to the name.
His jaw tightened as he ignored his instincts demanding that he get her out of this room.
“Ye’re correct,” Darragh agreed, his eyes flitting to Amelia once more. She was still again, suppressing the emotions that were making her restless. “Ewan reported seein’ him ridin’ through the northern territories a few weeks ago. We’ve been watchin’ him since.”
Amelia turned slightly, an indication that she was listening to the conversation even as she stared into the fire. Something about the set of her shoulders told him that she understood the greater implications. She was no stranger to politics, especially not politics relating to Laird Mackenzie.
And she knew exactly what the wax crest meant.
“Ye’ll have to give me yer full report, so I can prepare me own people,” Lucas said, settling back against Flora, who seemed to be counting the woodgrain on the table beside her.
“Best if me counsel is aware that Laird Mackenzie may come around. Perhaps we’ll be able to work out trade deals that will benefit us.
We have time to strategize before he comes knockin’. ”
A soft cough sounded, barely audible over the roar of the fire. Lucas and Flora didn’t react, but they weren’t likely to realize that Amelia’s discomfort ran as deep as he suspected.
“Aye,” Darragh agreed, shifting his gaze, but not his attention, away from Amelia.
If Laird Mackenzie was personally visiting lairds as he expanded his territory, he was looking for someone.
It didn’t seem like a coincidence that she was reacting in this way.
“But we’re in nay state to have these discussions.
I believe it’s time for us to call this evenin’ to an end. ”
From the corner of his vision, he caught Amelia’s body going even more rigid. She was rubbing her hands together harder now, her nerves demanding to be expressed. As if sensing that he was looking again, she glanced over her shoulder and then stopped her fidgeting.
She’s just told me far more than she meant to with that.