Page 45 of Highlander's Runaway Seductress
She crossed to the cupboard and opened it. Instead of seeing platters and cups, she saw folded clothes. She had never seen such furniture like this and made a note to ask the maid Hana what style it was. She opened the trunks and fiddled with a few things around the room, before going to the daybed and sat.
I wonder if Damien kens where I am now?
Her heart was still beating nervously, and Amelie found that she could not stay still. Soon she was back on her feet. The windows were wide and with four of them she could see a lot of the world beyond. Two of them faced an expansive inner courtyard and the brick bailey that towered over the castle.
The other two showed her the town below it, and if she squinted hard, she could see the thin line of blue—a loch most likely or perhaps the sea. She had not been so far into the highlands before, so she was not sure which one it was.
Dropping her eyes back to the town, she could not help but admire it, everything looked well made. Not once did she see a thatched hut or a ramshackle house.
A knock had her turning and Hana came in, but she did not hold food, “Miss Hana?”
“His Lairdship would like to speak with ye, in his study, Miss,” Hana said.
The bottom of Amelie’s stomach nearly fell to her feet. Though she knew a meeting with the Laird was unavoidable, she still was not ready to meet him.
“H-He wants to see me now.”
“Aye, Miss. But let me fix yer hair first,” Hana said, while directing Amelie to sit. She took a few combs and a brush from a drawer, before she got to work detangling her hair and brushing it out to rest over her shoulder.
“Please, follow me,” Hana said, as she gestured to the door.
Amelie followed Hana down a few corridors that twisted like a maze. With each step, her heart began to lodge itself firmer and firmer into her throat until they came to a door that Hana knocked on.
A gruff voice said, “Enter.”
Hana opened the door and Amelie followed her with hesitant feet. A man was standing at the window, his wide back covered with a dark great kilt, thick dark hair brushing at his shoulder, and his right hand clutching the handle of a cane.
When he turned, Amelie felt her heartbeat flutter hard. the Laird’s face, though lined with age and a thick but neatly cut beard, was the same one she had seen in that dream once. His eyes dipped to Amelie’s feet, then back to up her face.
“What is yer name, lass?” he asked.
“A-Amelie,” she said. “Me name is Amelie.”
He snorted. “Are ye askin’ me or tellin’ me?” he came closer and peered into her eyes. “Hmph. Ye look like me daughter, but I daenae ken it. I have had countless lasses comin’ here tryin’ to take her place, but I will nae give it to anyone unless they prove themselves. Hana, take her back to the room.”
Utterly confused, Amelie turned to the door where Hana was waiting. She spun back to the Liard, but he had gone back to the window, his broad back turned to her. Hana held the door out and Amelie, with no other choice, left the room.
She kept silent until she was back in the room given to her, when she asked, “Does that mean…what does it mean?”
“It means ye daenae get thrown out as many others have,” Hana said. “Some have come, many have left and a few like ye have been able to stay. I think if me Laird has left ye here, he thinks ye might be the lady.”
Taking a seat, Amelie wrung her hand in her lap. “And if I’m nae?”
“Then ye’ll leave,” Hana said. “Pardon me. I have to fetch yer meal now.”
Amelie gritted her teeth, while her stomach twisted uneasily. How could she prove who she was to the Laird…and how much time did she have to do so?
18
“Yer meal, Miss,” Hana said while coming into the room where Amelie had sat and thought hard on what she could do to get the Laird to believe her.
She could not explain it, but her surroundings felt familiar. Just like some of the inexplicable dreams she had, where she could not find a name to describe it. The castle felt, for a lack of better words, a home.
“Thank ye, Miss Hana,” Amelie replied while the maid put the tray on a table. “Would ye mind tellin’ me what some of these things are? Like this one?” she gestured to the standing cupboard. “What is it.”
“It is an English wardrobe for dresses and other English undergarments, Miss,” Hana replied. “Laird Dolberry was married to an English lady, and from there on, as I was told, grew an affectation for English goods. He had some items carried from England for her, and with the years followin’ brought over more.”
“Oh,” Amelie muttered while she went to the chair. “It makes sense.”
