She gave it a final tug in anger, and then smelled the faint hint of pipe smoke. “Aye, lass, and what do we have here?” She turned to see William in the glow of torchlight, smoking innocently beside her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Green eyes stared down at her, and a hand was held out to her. “Come, lass,” the man said in a smooth, loving voice, and Amelia’s heart swelled with love and desire as she clasped her hand inside his. He lifted her from her seat and pulled her to him, their lips and bodies meeting at the same time. The kiss was gentle, soft, and almost shy of too much passion. But, then he pulled away, and held Amelia out a little from him and looked into her blue eyes. “I love ye, Amelia Parker.” Amelia’s heart flipped, and she felt her happiness soar into the sunlight, but then, she felt a tug on her hand. She looked down to see a different hand, attempting to pull her from Jamie’s grasp. It was cold, clammy, yet persistent. It tightened around her fingers to the point of pain, and Amelia gave a small yelp as the hand eventually removed her from Jamie’s grip. It turned her to face the owner of the hand, and she saw the toothy, greasy smile and bright red hair of Donald Kinnaird. Despite the smile, his face was almost twisted into a grimace, and it seemed to enjoy the pain he had inflicted on her. “Come, lass.” Donald said, and Amelia could feel her power leaving her and following the demon to her unknown fate. She turned back to see Jamie’s face turn pale, and then he faded into mist. Amelia screamed out, “No!” with such force that it awoke her from her dream.
She lifted herself up from the chair to stare at the dim surroundings. Bedroom, mother, illness. Slowly, she began to realize it was only a dream, and yet, there was something familiar about it. Suddenly, the realization hit her. Her marriage to Donald. It was to completed this very evening. Her stomach nearly heaved at the thought of such an act, but as she stared at her mother, whose color had returned to a healthy glow, she smiled. Her sacrifice would be worth it. Her mother could live in peace and happiness.
She rose, knowing it was before midnight for Sophie had not yet woken her. But, the seat across from her, normally occupied by Marianne, was curiously empty. She called out to Sophie who entered the room obediently.
“Aye, miss?”
“Sophie, where has Marianne gone? Was she not to watch my mother while I was away at the church?”
Sophie looked nervous, and she shifted from foot to foot. She mumbled, “Miss Marianne told me tae tell ye that she wanted tae be of service tae ye in this wedding. So, she took the lantern out tae find greens to adorn yer wedding with.”
Amelia looked confused. “In the dark? That seems quite ambitious. Did she say when she would return?”
Sophie shook her head. “Nay. She said she will meet ye at the church when the time comes.”
“I see...will you and Margrete watch mother, then, while I am away? I shall not be too long, I do not believe.” She was relieved, slightly, that Marianne would not fight her on her decision. She had expected a lot more resistance from her longtime friend, but maybe Marianne fully understood her side.
She had no time to worry about it. She must prepare for the wedding and think of how to make sure she received everything she needed in this new contract with Donald. She did not want to be fooled again.
She stepped into the hallway to gaze into the looking glass. Her hair was passable but could use a few adjustments. Her dress would work, but she knew that Donald would make a fuss if she was not appropriately dressed for a wedding. He would find any way to prolong her torture; of that she was constantly sure.
So, she searched in her mother’s belongings for a dress more appropriate to a wedding day. She found one, made with white linen. Perhaps white would satisfy Donald, but it would not be truthful, for she had given her maidenhead to Jamie. She was no longer a virgin, but she would need to fool Donald to get the money.
She called for Sophie once more to assist her with dressing. Marianne did not return during this time, and a tingle of fear came into her mind, but her friend was wise. She would meet her at the church. It took almost a half an hour to dress and prepare. Sophie pulled an extra plaid out from the bedroom to give Amelia to wear.
“Good luck miss.” Sophie said behind her as she stared at herself in the looking glass. A few months before she had stared into this very spot, a dirty and lonely woman, broken down by life’s tragedies and the errors of men. Outwardly, she looked lovely, ready for a simple wedding ceremony. But inwardly, her tears threatened to spill out onto her cheeks, and she felt a rage towards the world. It was so unfair. All her problems had come at the hands of men. Foolish men, greedy men, or selfish men. Was she never to have control of her own life and the way it went?
She attempted to assuage the ache that built up in her chest. She nodded to herself. Once she left Donald, she could make her way in the world however she chose. Maybe she could live off her writings? She smiled slightly, and that future potential dream kept her from running, away into the wild in search for that freedom right then. She must do her duty and marry Donald, to achieve her goal of saving her parents. She was bound to this, and then, she could go.
Amelia turned away slowly, and gathered up her skirts, her resolve building with each step towards the door.
Once she reached the threshold, she turned back to Sophie, and said “Thank you, Sophie. I will be back later this evening.”
Sophie curtsied, and Amelia shut the door behind her as she walked out into the dark night.
* * *
Marianne could have screamed again in frustration at the sight of this cad. She was breathing hard from her long journey, she was dirty, and her hair was hanging loosely about her, and she had been foiled in the achievement of her noble goal at the last minute.
William, seeing this, replied, “Have ye come for one last look at me before yer departure, lass? Ye are only human, after all.” He chuckled before taking another puff from his pipe.
Marianne would have loved to reply with more wit and ire, but she simply yelled, “We have not time for your scoundrel-like impertinence, Mr. Fraser! I have a pressing emergency that needs to be shared with Jamie! If he has not yet returned, then we must send someone to find him!”
William’s expression changed into concern. He grasped her arm, “Is it Amelia? Is it her Mother? Is someone hurt?”
Marianne looked down at his arm, and then back at his face. What a change from the caddish demeanor from before. She softened her voice. “No, no, no one is ill or hurt, but Amelia is about to make a disastrous decision. She is about to marry Donald Kinnaird, and we must stop her! I could not, but I know Jamie could.”
William’s eyes widened at the realization of her words. He fumbled in his pocket for the gate key, and then swung it open to let her inside. “Come! I will take ye tae him. He has returned.”
They rushed for the door, and heaved it open, entering the empty main hall. Marianne lowered her voice to a whisper. “I do not want to be caught by the very devil himself. We must move quietly through the house.”
“Donnae worry, lass. I would take care of him, if we did come across the bastard.” Marianne turned to see an angry defiance on William’s face, and smiled to herself. They hurried up the dim corridor and up the stairs and paused at Jamie’s room. William pushed it open, but Jamie was not inside. William swore, and then pounded out of the room, pulling Marianne along with him. The stopped next at the library, and entered to find a dozing Jamie, whiskey glass in hand, sitting before a crackling fire.
“Jamie!” Marianne called, and Jamie briskly awoke, nearly spilling his glass into the flames. He stood up, drowsy but with concern. “Marianne! What is the matter?”
Marianne swallowed, trying to catch her breath once again, and she motioned to William to continue. “Amelia has decided tae marry Donald, lad. And Marianne says she has tried tae stop her, but tae no avail. Ye must go!”
Marianne recovered, “He means to marry her this evening at midnight, at the church! We must hurry!”
Jamie face
was crossed in confusion and anger. “What? Why would she agree tae such a thing?”
“Because he has promised tae pay all her debts, now that he has access tae the Kinnaird wealth, and she has had tae pay money to heal her mother, so she is now almost penniless and desperate. And…” Marianne paused. “She feels that if she cannot have you, then it does not matter who she marries. She plans to flee from Donald at the first chance after they are wed, and the debts have been repaid and her father’s release is secured.”
William grumbled, “That bastard will not let her go that easily. He will find a way tae trap her and keep her tae him until he’s done with her.”
“Aye,” Jamie agreed beside him. Amelia wed to Donald Kinnaird? He could not even stomach the thought. It was far worse than believing Amelia had betrayed him. He knew she had debts, but was her duty so strong, that she would sacrifice herself to restore her family to each other and give her father his undeserved dignity back? It softened his heart, and he knew what he had to do.
“Come, we must ride tae the church. I pray we will not be too late.” The clock had already struck half past eleven, so it would be a race against the minutes to arrive in time to stop the wedding.
Marianne touched his arm. “We will accompany you.”
William said, “‘Tis too dangerous, lass. Who knows what could ensue?”
Marianne cast her angry eyes on them both, and they looked sheepish. “She is my dearest friend. I will be there to help stop her from ruining her life. And, it will be far more dangerous for you both if you try and stop me.” She strode from the room, expecting to be followed. Jamie glanced at William and raised an eyebrow. William shrugged, and they rushed behind her, donning their coats before they left to head towards the stables.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Amelia finally arrived at the church, torchlight gleaming beside the door, so she knew she was in the right place. She was breathless, and a little tired, but her resolve had not wavered. In the darkness, she could not see the beautiful church but only its dark outline. This is not the wedding day she had dreamed about in her mind. She shook off that thought before it threatened to weaken her determination, and she pushed open the heavy door to the church to find the aisle lit with candles, and Donald and the minister at the other end, waiting for her. She shut the door with a loud bang, and the sound echoed through the empty church, reverberating in a hollow way. She walked up to them slowly, feeling as though this was her last path to the executioner’s block. She stared at Donald’s sickening grin and the solemn features of the minister.
The minister was dressed in somber, white robes with gold fringes, and she saw Donald had made some sort of an effort to appear the handsome groom, although Amelia would never have seen him that way. He chose to dress all in black, perhaps to appear even more menacing and horrible, Amelia thought.
It felt as if time had slowed, and she moved ever so slightly forward with each step. She could hear her heartbeat in her eyes, slowly pulsing with a deep, heavy sound, threatening to stop any moment to free her from this punishment. She wished she had something to hold on to. She felt as though she might faint, and she thought about how much a glass of wine would do her well in this moment to calm her nerves which prickled and tingled in her belly.
But, then that made her think of Jamie, and her gait slowed even more, as the thought of that first night with him in the library with a glass of wine before the fire. No! You must work to forget him, Amelia! ‘Tis your duty, now. Put that man from your mind. And the image of Jamie faded away into darkness. After what seemed like hours, Amelia eventually made it to the end of the long church aisle and stood before Donald and the minister. Donald bowed obsequiously and after raising his flame-haired head and grabbed her hand with a sickening flourish. He pressed his wet lips to it and kissed it, and before Amelia could grimace at the shine his lips had left on her skin, said, “Happy Wedding Day, my most beautiful bride.”
Amelia smiled tightly, removed her hand from his grasp and then asked, “The contract? Have you everything you promised?”
Donald turned to the minister, “Ah, what an eager woman she is, minister. We do have a few things tae organize before the service, if ye could excuse us.” The minister nodded and walked away to exit through a side door.
Donald returned his gaze to Amelia. “My dear, do not rush such a special occasion. We will want tae remember it, so we can tell the children about it.” He grinned and winked at her, and Amelia nearly vomited on the spot. She grabbed on to the corner of a wooden pew to steady her and keep her resolve strong.
“I mean only to protect my family. That is the only reason why I would marry such a bastard as you. So, it is within my best interest to see the money and the contract before we begin the...proceedings.” She emphasized her disdain on that last word, hoping to injure him in any way she could.
Donald appeared not to have noticed, and continued smiling, while motioning to a box on the front bench. “Here, my dear. You may have a look at everything, if ye like. Then, we can sign the contract, and move forward. My contacts will be alerted, and your father will be freed. Then, we will also be free tae continue as man and wife.” His voice lowered to a sensual growl, and he gripped her waist to him as he spoke, his gaze roving over her face, his moist lips, shining in the church’s candlelight.
He paused his gaze on her lips, watching them for what seemed like minutes, and he began to lean forward to take a kiss from them. Amelia pushed him away as hard as she could and was left staring at a fury-eyed Donald. “Ye are my wife, remember? I will take what pleasures I want from ye.” He practically growled, and Amelia felt afraid of his growing anger. He moved from one emotion to another so quickly. One had not enough time to prepare for the onslaught. She swallowed her disgust, pride, and anger and placed a hand gingerly on his arm. Donald looked down in surprise at this quiet intimacy.
“Donald. ‘Tis not time yet for such...pleasures.” She began, quietly. “I am not yet yer wife, you understand. Everything has its proper time.”
She hoped this would pacify him for the moment until the marriage was complete, and he had sent the money. She may have to avoid him until then, or...would she have to go through with such a disgusting act with such a man? Would she go so far if it meant saving her family?
She thought back to Donald’s silver knife, glinting in the sun, as he opened his coat to show it to her. She had no doubt he would do what he’d threatened. Beneath is obsequious and unctuous exterior, there seemed to be something dark, something that did not care what others normally cared about. It was as if he was the only man in the world who deserved good things, and he would use whoever he could to get those things. She needed to behave well to earn his trust. That way, she could get her father back AND plan her escape without his suspicion.
Donald cooled, and placed his oily palm on top of hers. “Ye are quite right, my dear. We donnae want tae be hasty and rush such a…” he licked his lips, “delectable moment.”
All that Amelia could muster was a quick nod, and then she turned her face to the front bench and its contents. She kept up her facade of kindness and calm. “She pointed to the box, and said, “May I?”
Donald bowed slightly and held out his hand, pointing to it. “Of course.”
Amelia sat beside the box and opened it. Inside was a marriage certificate to be signed as well as a new contract. Amelia read it over, her heart quickening, as she felt his stare upon her, waiting for her to accept and begin the ceremony. She didn’t see any problems with it. It claimed to make the payment after the marriage was performed as well as secure her father’s release. But, then, as she read the last line, she froze. “If the bride purposefully leaves the laird’s residence without his explicit and written permission, all further agreements will be annulled, and the debt will then lie upon her head, and if she cannot be found to place into debtor’s prison, then her father shall be the one to either pay the amount or return to gaol.”
Amelia felt
the room heating up and getting smaller. She closed her eyes to remove the feeling of the walls closing in on her. She knew she would suffocate. All her plans had been foiled. If she could not leave, that means she would have to stay with Donald...forever. How could she endure that life? But then, she opened her eyes, breathing slowly, trying to regain her balance. She glanced down to the see the money lying beside the certificate, in crisp notes. It reminded her of her goal.
Donald raised an eyebrow in question. “Do ye agree, woman? Shall we begin?” All that Amelia could do was keep her eyes down and nod, almost imperceptibly. Donald clapped his hands and went to the side door to knock. “Minister Sheffield, we are ready now, my good man.” The minister opened the door and walked out, his features still poised in solemnity. He nodded and walked towards the altar, the book in his hands. He placed himself at the front, and Donald grabbed Amelia’s hand to pull her towards the front, in front of the minister. He looked like an excited schoolboy, his cheeks shining with red anticipation, on the verge of opening a large present.
Capturing The Highlander's Heart (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 1) Page 21
