Chapter 25 #2
“Well, the room’s been rearranged,” Amelia said, glancing over her shoulder to give the man an apologetic smile. “I’m a wee bit partial to the way it’s organized.”
“I wouldnae dream of disruptin’ the way everythin’s organized,” the courier muttered, more to himself than to Amelia.
“Ye can just leave them on the foldin’ table,” she said, leading him through the kitchen. She paused long enough to lift her hand to greet Nigell. “I’ll take care of puttin’ them away. I’ll need to add them to me inventory list regardless.”
Darragh very nearly laughed when the courier said, “Naturally,” under his breath.
When they reached the storeroom, Jinny was already waiting for them. She seemed to recognize that Amelia was taking control of this operation and stepped to the side, allowing her to guide the courier. Darragh leaned against the doorframe, watching as she surveyed what had been delivered.
“I will need time to sort this out. Ye can leave the rest in the empty room across the hall,” she said, looking up at the courier.
It was then that she realized that Darragh had been observing.
Their eyes met for a beat, and he saw her breathing stutter.
She cleared her throat before nodding and dismissing both the courier and Jinny.
Darragh raised an eyebrow as he stepped out of the way to let the two servants leave. That movement was just another tiny thing that he could add to the list of tells. She was used to sending servants away without a word. She belonged in a place like this.
“Are ye stealin’ me command now, lass?” he teased, his smirk deepening when her pencil skipped on the page.
Slowly, she raised her head, meeting his gaze with that same challenge he’d come to expect. Without breaking eye contact, she placed her ledger on the table. Then, with movement far too practiced to be deliberate, she folded her hands behind her back, giving herself the posture of nobility.
It doesnae matter how much she tries to behave otherwise, I’d have always learnt she was nay orphan.
He stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him. Still, she didn’t look away from him. There was the ghost of a smirk on her face, but something else beneath it that he couldn’t quite read.
“Ye ken,” he said, circling the room lazily, “I hear that ye’ve been rearrangin’ me stores.”
She scoffed before she replied, “They were chaos.”
When he looked away from the admittedly much more orderly shelves, her smile had deepened. She was unapologetic about doing this, he realized. She would do it all again if she pleased.
“Me keep has stood for generations,” he said, pressing a little further, meeting her challenge with his own. His slow trek around the room brought him closer to her.
She didn’t flinch nor move away, tilting her head to keep him within her sights, looking as if she may scold him if he disturbed anything. “And now yer keep stands a bit straighter.”
A genuine smile snuck onto his face for a beat before he schooled it into neutrality. Stopping next to her, he said, “I must thank ye for that. I must admit that ye’ve shaped things up considerably.”
“Men always seem to forget about these invisible places,” she said, though the heat had faded significantly. She shifted from foot to foot, clearing her throat before forcing herself still. “Thank ye. For… the freedom.”
He studied her for a long moment. Her eyes betrayed her gratitude. A flush was slowly taking over her cheeks. The thanks were genuine, and that seemed to embarrass her.
“Ye earned it,” he finally said.
“Earned it?” Amelia replied, her eyes widening as if she couldn’t quite believe it.
“Aye. Ye stopped tryin’ to flee every second hour.”
She laughed, looking away from him, the corner of her mouth tugging up into an unwilling smile. “That was hardly strategic.”
“It was exhaustin’,” he said, only partially jokin’.
“Ach, ye’re tellin’ me,” she sighed, stepping up to the tiny window in the room.
As she surveyed the tree line, a strand of hair slipped from its place. He reached forward, carefully tucking it away. It wasn’t until her breath hitched that he realized what he was doing and the effect it was having on her.
“If ye wished to leave,” he said, positioning himself behind her and fixing his gaze on the tree line as well, “ye’d have done it already.” He paused, smiling though he knew she couldn’t see it. “But perhaps ye cannae stand bein’ away from me.”
His arrogance was deliberate. He enjoyed teasing. He enjoyed challenging.
“I might simply be waitin’ for better weather,” she countered, the irony of the beautiful day outside not lost on him.
“Me weather is excellent,” he replied smoothly, moving in closer, his mouth hovering near her ear. “Sun when required. Storms only when circumstances demand it.”
She stepped to the side, looking him up and down before rolling her eyes. As she turned back to the window, the tip of her nose pink, she asked, “Do ye rehearse these lines alone?”
He followed her, leaning in once more, even closer now. “Only the successful ones.”
The timber of his voice seemed to rush over her like a rogue wave. Her posture grew straighter, a little noise slipping past her lips. The humor melted away.
“Ye were never a prisoner here, Amelia,” he said seriously, barely above a whisper.
She swallowed audibly before replying quietly, “Then stop speakin’ like I’ll leave.”
“Then stop speakin’ like ye’re plannin’ to,” he said before standing up. Still watching the landscape, he added with a hint of playful teasing, “Fraser weather rarely favors those who run.”
She tilted her body fully toward him. A mix of emotions played in her grey-green irises. He caught what she wanted to keep hidden, though. He saw the warmth, the way she was charmed.
“I’ll be goin’ to the gardens,” he said, taking a measured step back. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy the good weather rather than bein’ confined to a storeroom.”
As Darragh left, he felt Amelia’s eyes on his retreating form. When he was several long strides away, he heard her curse. She was trying to keep herself quiet, but it had carried on anyway.
I ken exactly what ye mean, lass.