Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Saints, I daenae think I could have stood another minute in that room.
Amelia paced in circles around her chambers, attempting to level her pulse. She’d been unsettled since the messenger interrupted the soft atmosphere in the solar. Even before he’d spoken, she’d known that he came with disastrous news.
“It’s nae coincidence,” she muttered to herself, forcing her body to stop moving, so she could sit in the window seat and look out over the grounds. “He doesnae lose investments nor leave loose ends.”
Her leg vibrated incessantly. Even when she pressed the flat of her palm against her thigh, it continued to bounce. It was almost as if her body was trying to expel every one of her racing thoughts.
Before her father, Laird Mackenzie, sold her to the hunt, he’d spent weeks wandering the castle, murmuring under his breath about streams of income and unacceptable claims on his estate.
The trade deals falling through had upset him in a way that frightened her.
The mentions of claims on his estate were directed at Amelia, who had a stronger claim to them.
Her mother’s family had a stronger legal claim on the lands and alliances her father relied on.
Nothing about his behavior hinted at what he’d do.
Without a second thought, he sent me away to the man willing to pay the most for me. He likely thought I’d die, that it was a necessary sacrifice.
Her eyes scanned the forest in the distance as if she would be able to catch a glimpse of him.
She searched at first for the cavalry, for his guards carrying the crest as he led them toward their next conquest. He wouldn’t bring all those people into the woods in the middle of the night, though.
It would just be him and the jet-black stallion that he loved more than anything else on the planet.
He’s stronger than ever; he always finds a way to thrive.
The words echoed in her mind, the threat unstated but not unheard. He didn’t abandon what he considered his, and if his crest had resurfaced here, then it was not by chance. This was intentional proximity.
“Does he ken that I live?” she asked herself, rising from her seat once more, unable to stay still for more than a few seconds.
Needing to do something with her hands, Amelia began going through the chest of drawers in the corner of her room.
It had been slowly stacked with spare linens, the gowns she’d been fitted for when she’d gone to the village, and several gowns that she didn’t recall ordering that had arrived nearly a week after the original batch.
Perhaps she could sort through it all and impose order on it.
Is there any point? If me father is nearby, I willnae be stayin’ here much longer.
She ignored that thought, deciding that there was no use in dwelling on that at this very moment. She was here now. This was the environment that she had control over. It had become hers, and she didn’t want to leave it before she was forced to.
Her fingers danced upon the soft bedsheet, lighter than the sheets her father kept in the linen closets up north. She’d never known him to travel to the south, always citing his preference for the cooler evenings.
I cannae imagine he’s suddenly decided to tour the south purely for pleasure. It’s nae as if there’s nae neighbors further north.
“He’s thorough,” she said thoughtfully, carrying the linen to her bed. “If he’s visitin’ everywhere personally, the Fraser lands willnae be overlooked. He could already have his visit planned, and we willnae ken until he arrives.”
A full-body shudder ran through her as she realized what that would mean. He’d wear a smile. He’d walk into the halls as if he had been invited, soaking up the cordiality from the staff like he’d done something to deserve it. Then, he’d see Amelia. And then… what?
“What could he possibly want from me?” she asked, folding the linen with much more propulsion than necessary.
She took a moment to inhale, forcing herself to be more controlled in her movements.
“Is he comin’ to apologize? Or perhaps there’s another transaction?
” She slammed the sheet on top of the growing pile with a huff.
“Nay. If I ken anythin’ about him, he’ll be comin’ with some sort of marriage arrangement meant to repair his reputation. ”
As she carried the stack of newly straightened fabric to the chest, she told herself that it didn’t matter what he was coming for specifically. She knew better than to try to predict his next move. His intention would be the same, regardless of the action he took.
If he kens I am alive, he wants to use me somehow. Again. Or worse.
It felt as though the walls of her chamber were closing in on her.
The phantom pressure danced across her skin, cool prickles that made her feel physically ill.
She slid forward, her palms sweaty against the stone sill of the window.
Taking in a slow, deep breath of cool night air seemed to peel the suffocating jacket of anxiety from the surface of her flesh.
Just this morning, the room at her back had been luxurious. It was the first place that she’d felt truly at ease in months. But now, it was just another cage. She was being held here, within the keep, waiting for her father to come and collect her.
Havenae I kent it would be like this from the second I arrived?
She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she carefully assigned the sheets a spot in the chest. For a few minutes, she was able to quiet her mind.
The act of arranging the contents was meditative.
When everything had been painstakingly folded and tucked into place, Amelia stood, feeling as if she could look at this with a clear head.
“I cannae tell Darragh me name,” she muttered, speaking through the thoughts in an effort to find a solution.
Perhaps saying things out loud would give her a perspective she was failing to see.
“Even if I asked him to allow me to hide durin’ the visit, it’s nae as if we’d have any warnin’ me father was comin’.
And if Darragh kens who I am, he may allow me father to charm him into givin’ me over. ”
She groaned, throwing her head back and staring at the ceiling for a beat. If she stayed without telling Darragh, he might be more inclined to listen to her father. Staying quiet might end up putting her in greater danger.
Perched on the window seat again, Amelia pulled her knees to her chest and rested her cheek on the top of them.
As she scanned the tree line again, she remembered something that Mrs. Rowan had mentioned in passing.
When Flora and Lucas departed, the keep would grow busier as they prepared for the annual fox hunt.
She said that she dinnae ken how she was goin’ to keep track of Isla.
“If it’s anythin’ like what happened when me father held hunts in the North, this place will be overflowin’ with activity,” she reasoned, leaning forward as she caught a glimpse of a snow-white animal weaving in and out of the trees.
She couldn’t quite tell what it was, its fur simply reflecting the moonlight.
“The guards and maids will be stretched thin… the gates will be open… the hills will be crowded.”
It’s full of distractions.
As the animal darted deep into the forest and further away from the moonbeams, Amelia realized what she had to do. With all of the movement and confusion, she could slip out. No one would realize that she was gone until it was too late for them to do anything about it.
“It’s survival,” she said to the retreating form of what might have been an apparition rather than an animal. “That’s all this is.”
Despite speaking it, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was running. Standing up and closing her curtains, she wondered if there was a difference. Darragh had said he’d protect her, but an irrational part of her mind told her that she was nothing more than a pawn to him.
I’m nae runnin’ from anyone. I’m savin’ me own hide.
As she crossed the floor to begin snuffing out the candles, the sound of authoritative knuckles on her door made her jump.
Pressing her hand against her chest, she turned toward the sound.
For a moment, she considered pretending that she was asleep.
But then, the knocking came again. Louder this time, more insistent.
I suppose there’s nay avoidin’ this.
* * *
“Shouldnae ye be with yer wife?” Darragh asked, looking away from the reports in front of him to glance at Lucas. “Ye let the lass drink quite a bit of yer scotch.”
“She’s restin’,” Lucas said easily, his arms crossed over his chest. “There’s nae much I can do for her while she’s sleepin’.”
“Ye could sleep next to her,” Darragh replied without missing a beat. “Ye’re on holiday.”
“Shouldnae ye be gettin’ some rest yerself?” Lucas countered, walking into the study and taking the seat directly across from Darragh. “And ye’re well-aware of the fact that lairds daenae truly get to have holidays. Breaks are only that in name.”
Darragh scoffed, the sound the only acknowledgment of that truth that he was willing to offer. “Perhaps I should be,” he said slowly as his eyes shifted back to the most recent acquisitions that Clan Mackenzie had made. “But I kent I wouldnae be able to sleep until I’d read through this.”
“I’d argue that’s goin’ to make it harder for ye to get any rest,” Lucas replied as he leaned forward. “But I’m sufferin’ from the same ailment as ye. Anythin’ of note?”
“Seems he’s lookin’ to trade for grain,” Darragh observed, pulling out sheets of parchment and passing them to Lucas.
“Lumber as well. Seems me men stationed in the north have been keepin’ an eye on his activities for a wee bit.
Over the last few months, he went from bein’ completely silent to comin’ into a large sum of money out of nay where. ”
“And that’s how he was able to purchase the debts of other clans,” Lucas concluded as he scanned over the document in front of him.
He tapped his fingertip against the sum scrawled across the trade report.
“Any explanation on how he came into that money? As far as I kent, he was strugglin’.
He had more than one trade agreement fall through.
Clan Mackenzie was hemorragin’ money. It’s nae like he had any assets that were worth anythin’. ”
“Nay, I’ve nae come across any information about that.
” Darragh gestured to the short stack of parchment beside him.
“I’m hopin’ I’ll find the answers I need, but it wasnae in any of these pages.
I’ve only two more that I havenae read, but I’m nae confident it’s anythin’ more excitin’ than which trade routes he’s interested in next. ”
“Do ye mind if I take a look at what ye’ve already checked?” Lucas asked, already reaching for the documents. “It is late, and ye were a wee bit greedy with yer scotch.”
“Ye’re far too comfortable helpin’ yerself to me information,” Darragh said, making no move to stop his ally. Having a second set of eyes that he respected on the information felt like common sense. “Ye’re lucky I trust yer strategic mind.”
“I wouldnae be so interested if it werenae for the way Amelia looked when she heard the messenger,” Lucas pointed out, settling back in his seat, his eyes scanning over the lines of writing.
“So ye noticed as well,” Darragh replied, watching Lucas’s face.
All of his senses were sharpened to a point.
His need for outside perspective was at odds with the inexplicable desire to keep the other man out of Amelia’s affairs.
“Though, I suppose she wasnae as subtle as she believed she was bein’. ”
The other man didn’t look away from the pages. “Aye. Seems as though Laird Mackenzie may have somethin’ to do with the hunt we rescued the girls from. Flora told me that she doesnae ken the name. She may ken him if she sees him, but I’m nae goin’ to go searchin’ for him.”
Ach, so he doesnae ken nor assume that Laird Mackenzie has personally done somethin’ to Amelia.
“It’s probably best practice to nae let the girls near him if we daenae have to,” Darragh decided, leaning back and crossing his arms. He swallowed around a knot of rage.
“Nae until we’ve gotten more information about him.
There are too many gaps in the information we have.
Me men will be instructed to probe deeper into his business. ”
“I’ll inform me men as well.” Lucas set aside the first piece of parchment, moving onto the next without looking up at Darragh. “I can leverage me allies, nae let them ken the real reason I’m lookin’ into him.”
“The fact that his actions are sure to alter trade routes for nearly all of us is reason enough to be askin’ about his intentions,” Darragh said with a frown. “I wouldnae be surprised if there arenae other investigations launched into his behavior already.”
Lucas grunted, continuing to work his way through the stack of intelligence. As he set aside each page, Darragh picked them up. He scanned through them once more but didn’t find anything new.
It seemed to Darragh that Laird Mackenzie was keeping his true intentions private. The fact that he was making the visits personally was suspicious. It didn’t look as though he were trying to make friends. He was looking for something.
Or someone.
“I’m nae seein’ anythin’ that we can act on tonight,” Lucas said after he’d finished going through the reports a while later. He set the pages to the side, his eyes lingering on the document at the top.
“Aye,” Darragh agreed as he stood, stretching the stiffness from his joints. “I’ll ensure all of me men ken to look out for the Mackenzie crest tomorrow mornin’. Until we receive the next round of reports, I’m nae sure there’s much else I can do without bein’ seen as an aggressor.”
“Well, from the outside, it looks as if he’s nae done anythin’,” Lucas said, rising and moving to leave the room, “but I daenae have a good feelin’ about him.”
“I daenae either,” Darragh growled as he stepped into the corridor, locking his study. “We will stop whatever it is that he’s tryin’ to do before he gets a chance to do it.”
And if he’s the one who hurt Amelia, I’ll kill him.