Amelia and the Secret of Stoney Manor (Amelia Series Book 1)

by Michelle Bradshaw

  “Well, after a day like yesterday, I couldn’t doubt that, but to say the woman was a witch … ugh … ridiculous. And to say my sweet Amelia, ummm, I mean Amelia, was weird is just wrong. She seemed to be the nicest girl I’ve met in a long time. I haven’t smiled like I did yesterday since, well, let’s just say it’s been a while.”

  The two boys rambled on and on about how no one before me had ever entered the gates of the Manor and how Ms. Matilda rarely ever left the place. Barely listening to their childish ramblings, I caught tidbits here and there of flashes of light, weird creatures, and other things that a child’s imagination can create from nothing. Yesterday was not one of your run of the mill average days, but I was not about to believe that my, uhh, that Amelia was anything but normal. At the thought of her name, her beautiful face flashed before my eyes as well as the moment we almost had last night.

  “Hey, mister, are you listening?” asked the younger boy, bringing me out of the fog in my mind.

  “What did you just say?” I responded turning to him.

  “I asked you if you were listening, mister.”

  “Oh, yes, I am,” I said, almost subconsciously, sinking back into my own thoughts once again. Mister, I pondered to myself. He called me mister. It suddenly dawned on me. I was a mister. Be it only a year, but a year none the less I was older than Amelia. Maybe it was wrong of me to think of her the way I was. Maybe I was reading too much into last night and she didn’t feel the same. After all, we just met. Maybe, just maybe, I was the one controlling the situation last night. I wouldn’t let that happen again. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for taking her innocence, even with just a kiss. I am the older one and need to act that way. I do not want to take advantage of such an innocent flower. Oh, I just called her a flower. I laughed, breaking myself from my feelings for a moment. I need to get out of this garden shop more often. I looked around to see that the two boys had apparently lost interest in me and were once again pulling seeds off the sunflowers.

  “Come on, Jeffrey. Come on, Ritchie,” hollered their mother. “I’ve got what I need. Time to go. Tell the nice man bye.”

  “Bye, mister,” shouted the boys as they ran out of the store.

  Going to have to get used to being called that, I guessed. Today will be different. I will make sure of it. I will be her friend and nothing more. After all, she is the granddaughter of my employer, so to speak. I need to present myself in a professional, but friendly manner. Though my heart twinged a little at the idea of being nothing more than Amelia’s friend, I knew it would be for the best.

  “You best be on your way, son. Ms. Matilda will be wondering where you are,” urged Uncle Bart, tearing me from my misery of not being anything more than Amelia’s friend. No more thinking about it. It’s the way it had to be.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, as I got my supplies together and headed to my truck.

  “You give Ms. Matilda my best,” shouted Uncle Bart from the door. I nodded, waved, and got in the truck and headed toward the Manor.

  CHAPTER NINE

  AMELIA

  I DESERVE AN EXPLANATION

  Grandmother and I had already finished breakfast and were outside waiting on the front porch when Matthew pulled up. He sure does look cute in his red checkered, button up shirt and Wrangler jeans, I pondered to myself. He had his sleeves pushed up past his elbows, showing off a hint of his muscles. I blushed at the idea of what the rest of him looked like under the shirt. Grandmother coughed, making my mind focus elsewhere. Sitting beside her, I was uncomfortable thinking of him that way.

  I was about to say, “Hey, Matthew,” when he said, “Hey,” without a smile or even a glance in my direction. “I’ll get started on those gardens now, Ms. Matilda, if that’s okay.” She nodded and he picked up his things and walked off to the gardens.

  Not the greeting I wanted or even expected, I thought to myself, almost frowning.

  “Come, Amelia,” exclaimed Grandmother, as she got up from her rocking chair. “There is much to do and little time to do it before your birthday. Besides, it looks like rain. We must hurry and get what we can done today.”

  I put on a pair of gardening gloves, picked up a rake, walked over, and proceeded to rake leaves where Matthew was pruning the flowers that he and Grandmother had called Moonflowers. As I began to rake the leaves, I tried to start a conversation with him.

  “So, did you sleep well?”

  His only response was “Uh-huh.”

  “Did your morning go well?” I asked, thinking maybe he had a bad morning and that was why he was acting so weird.

  “Yep,” he replied.

  “Well, there goes that theory,” I whispered to myself.

  “Did you say something?” he asked without looking up from the plant.

  “No,” I responded with a frown. Tears began to well up in my eyes and I quickly blinked them away. I know I didn’t just imagine last night. I know it happened. Maybe it just didn’t mean as much to him as it did to me, I wondered. No, it had to of affected him too, or else he wouldn’t have run off like he did. I didn’t say a word and for the next few hours, neither did he.

  It was noon by the time I finished raking our area of the garden and piled it up nicely. “Those plants never looked better,” I said to Matthew forcing a smile.

  “Thanks,” he murmured, without even a look in my direction. “I’ll go get the wheelbarrow so we can take those leaves out of the garden and burn them.” Without another word he quietly walked off to the truck.

  What the heck? My mind was reeling, suddenly overcome with anger. Even if it didn’t mean anything to him, I deserve an explanation. And with that I stomped off to catch up with him at his truck.

  “Matthew,” I said, trying to hide the anger welling up within me as it began to sprinkle.

  “Yes?” he mumbled nonchalantly as he pulled the wheelbarrow off the back of the truck.

  “Do you have a minute?” I asked as nice as I could.

  “Not really, Amelia. Maybe later,” he retorted as he began to push the wheelbarrow away and it began to drizzle.

  “Please …” I asked as polite as I could.

  “It is starting to rain harder, Amelia, and if we don’t get those leaves covered up …”

  “Well, I need you to make time!” I shouted, as I grabbed his arm with the best of my ability. Just then it was like the bottom fell out and it began to pour.

  “Come on, Amelia, it’s raining,” he said as he turned to try to lead me inside.

  “No!” I yelled again as I shook away from him. “Last night might not have meant anything to you, but it did to me and I deserve an explanation,” I commanded, continuing to shout as the raindrops ran down my face.

  He looked me directly in the eyes and proclaimed, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Amelia, but nothing happened and it never can.” He abruptly turned and ran off to the house.

  If it hadn’t been raining, I could have sworn there were tears of what seemed to be regret in his eyes for what he had just said, but it was probably my imagination. I just stood in the rain, letting it completely soak me to the bone as I tried to come to terms with what had just happened. Just as I was about to cry, Grandmother came out to the porch and yelled, “Come on, child, before you catch cold.”

  “Yes, Grandmother,” I uttered almost robotically and walked to the front porch.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AMELIA

  MATTERS OF THE HEART

  I turned the water as hot as I could get it, but I knew even a hot bath wouldn’t replace the icy feeling of sadness that had taken up residence in my heart when Matthew had rejected me. Who was I kidding though? Why would he want a girl like me? The sooner I came to terms with that, the better. I quickly turned off the bath faucet, so as not to overfill the tub, undressed, and got in. I let the heat soak in as it quickly warmed my body, but it could not warm my soul, my emotions, or better yet, mend what felt like my first broken heart. “Was it really broken?” I aske
d myself. I couldn’t answer, after all this was only my first step into a world immersed with matters of the heart. His voice plagued my mind and rang inside. “Nothing happened and never can,” replayed like a broken record. If this is what love is like, I want no part of it, I deduced. His face flashed across my mind as I uttered the words in my head. I knew it would not be as easy as turning my feelings off for him, but I would make a conscious effort to do so. “After all, who would want someone who didn’t want them in return?” I said to myself. With those words, a rush of emotions took control of me and a hurricane of tears began to spew from my eyes and, for what seemed like ages, I just let myself cry and cry until I could cry no more.

  As the sadness left, a bit of anger took its place, and I picked up a bar of soap and threw it, sending it sailing across the room and thudding against the door as a scream slipped from my lips.

  Then came a quiet knock on the door. “Amelia?” whispered Matthew, who seemed to be trying to hide his concern. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine!” I snapped unintentionally.

  “Oh,” he remarked, as if caught off guard by my temper. “Umm,” he cleared his throat. “Your grandmother sent me to tell you lunch was ready.”

  “All right. Tell her I’ll be downstairs soon,” I retorted while realizing my voice still had an edge to it. “Thank you,” I added trying to talk more softly.

  “Okay,” he murmured with a voice filled with sadness. I heard him walk off slowly and come back again. “Amelia,” he whispered.

  “Yes?” I said, now calm. “I truly am sorry if I hurt your feelings. I really do wish things were different,” he said with a voice laced in regret and walked off down the hallway.

  “What does that mean?” I asked myself. I shortly pondered his words, but noticed the goose bumps on my arms and realized I must have been in the water longer than I planned to because the water was now freezing. I hastily jumped out of the cold water, dried off, and ran to my room to dress for lunch. I threw on a pair of comfortable jeans and a fluffy, lavender sweater. I knew Grandmother wouldn’t really like the idea of my jeans, as she never did, but today, I really didn’t care. I ran a brush through my hair and pushed the still damp locks behind my ears. Not looking forward to the tension that was to come, I dragged my feet, walking at a snail’s pace, but finally arrived at the dining room table. Both Matthew and Grandmother were already at the table, neither one eating nor saying a word.

  “Ah, Amelia. How nice of you to join us,” announced Grandmother, smiling as I sat down.

  Matthew spoke nothing and stared down at his bowl of chili. I felt a little bad because I had made them wait. As I took a bite, I half expected it to be cold, but it wasn’t. It was exactly the perfect temperature and completely delectable.

  “This is delicious, Grandmother,” I noted, fawning over the chili.

  “Yes, it is, Ms. Matilda,” affirmed Matthew quietly.

  “Oh, thank you, my dears. It is a family recipe handed down over many generations. One day I will pass it on to you, Amelia,” she said elated.

  I forced a smile and nodded. Trying to savor every bite and not looking forward to the awkward day with Matthew that loomed ahead, I slowly ate the food in front of me, so as to prolong the inevitable. Matthew and Grandmother had finished long before me, but patiently waited for me to be done. After finally laying down my spoon and napkin, Grandmother suggested, “With it being a rainy, wet day, how about we all retire to the sitting room?”

  “I really should be getting home since I can’t work today,” confessed Matthew abruptly.

  “Nonsense!” exclaimed Grandmother in an I-am-your-elder-and-employer kind of way. “You will do no such thing,” she demanded as she cleared her throat and softened her tone. “This would be the perfect time to get to know you better, my dear boy. I am sure your uncle would not mind. After all, the gardens need a lot of work, and we will be seeing a lot of each other.”

  “All right, Ms. Matilda,” answered Matthew, respectfully.

  “Let us tidy up and then off to the sitting room,” she announced, almost beaming.

  What did Grandmother have in mind? I wondered. Doesn’t she know he doesn’t want me and probably wants to be as far from me as humanly possible? Why else would he say he wanted to go home? I thought she was against the relationship anyway.

  Grandmother whisked away all the dishes before Matthew and I could even lift a finger and within minutes we were all settled in the sitting room along with Luna, who, as usual, was on Grandmother’s lap. The room was drenched in silence. Only the sound of Luna purring as Grandmother petted her and the old grandfather clock ticking could be heard. I had gotten one of the old classics I so loved to read from the shelf to keep my eyes from staring at the Adonis that was sitting perched by the windowsill, staring out into the backyard. He didn’t seem to want me, at least I didn’t think he did, but why was I so infatuated with him? It just didn’t seem fair.

  Normally, I would be so immersed in my book by now that I would be halfway through it, but I couldn’t even seem to get through the first page. I could smell the heavenly scent of Matthew’s cologne from across the room, and it had my head spinning and my heart a flutter. I peeked over the corner of my book to look at him. Oops! He saw me. As his blue eyes gazed into mine, it was all I could take. Next thing I knew, everything went black.

  All of a sudden, I wasn’t in the sitting room any longer, but in the field in which I met my mother in my last dream. Only this time it was different. Everything was still peaceful and serene, but there was no picnic and the water, which once trickled, was perfectly still. It was eerily silent. Yet there she stood in the middle of a field of wildflowers in a light blue pastel sundress. Only this time, she looked sad. “Mother,” I tried to get out.

  She put a finger to her lip. “My child, I am only here for but a brief moment. I need you to listen to me, Amelia. I need you to remember this all when you wake. I wasn’t going to tell you anything until after your birthday, but things have changed. He knows about you. He is trying to find you. Don’t be afraid my sweet girl, but be wary. I need you to wear the locket I sent you. It will protect you,” she explained to me almost in a whisper.

  My locket … she sent it to me … what? I contemplated. The sound of a twig snapping made me jump and sent a wave of fear through me. “Be brave, Amelia. No matter what happens know that I will always love you.” Another twig snapped, sending a wave of chills down my spine. “He’s coming! Tell your grandmother all that you have seen and heard. Tell her about the other meetings. I must go. I love you.”

  “Mother!” I tried to scream, but all went black. I could hear the sound of chains clanking and the smell of death surrounded me, burning my nose. I tried to find my voice, but nothing. “Where am I?” I panicked “Someone, help me please!” I tried to scream as I pawed around the pitch black of darkness, searching for my way out. Finally, my eyes rested on what appeared to be a light at the end of a dark hallway.

  “Amelia,” called a voice.

  “Grandmother?” I stuttered. As I began to walk down the hallway, the voice grew louder.

  “Amelia? … Amelia? … Wake up child.” A heavy fog began to fill the room. “Amelia … Amelia,” repeated Grandmother almost in a frenzy.

  It became harder and harder to reach the light, and I had the strangest feeling like someone or something was watching me. I tried to run, but it was as if my feet were firmly cemented to the ground and the light was becoming farther and farther away until … “Amelia?”

  Was that Matthew? I debated, not being able to speak.

  “Amelia! Honey! Wake up!”

  Did he just call me honey? I thought, and in that instant my feet were released from their stronghold, and I sprang for the light.

  Slowly, I began to wake and my eyes began to focus as I stared up into the face of Matthew and Grandmother too, of course. I blinked a few times, trying to come back to reality.

  “Oh, my dear child,” uttered G
randmother, in a tizzy. “You gave me a fright.”

  “Yeah, you really scared us,” said Matthew, eyes full of compassion and concern, and for that brief moment my heart was full of hope for us.

  “I’m … I’m … I’m all right,” I stuttered. “I ne-ne-need to talk to you Grandmother,” I said still stuttering, as if coming out of a magic spell.

  “Later, my dear. I just want you to sit and relax a moment,” she advised as she and Matthew helped me off the floor and into the chair by the window.

  Wow! I looked outside seeing it was nighttime and the moon was out. Was I really out for that long? I was trying to make sense of it all and process what my mother had told me and how she knew of my locket.

  “Matthew, will you be a dear and get her a glass of water please?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” uttered Matthew as he dashed off to the kitchen.

  “We have only a moment before he returns, Amelia. Tell me what happened.”

  I was too embarrassed to tell her my emotions got the best of me and I passed out over Matthew. “Well …” I began to explain.

  “Quickly, child,” urged Grandmother.

  “I was staring at Matthew …” I admitted, embarrassed by how that sounded.

  “No, no child. What happened while you were unconscious?”

  “Well … this is not the first time, but I, kind of, dreamed of my mother,” I disclosed, almost regretting saying the words aloud for fear of making her upset, but oddly she didn’t look surprised at all.

  “Yes, yes, go on,” she instructed. I told her how it felt so real, about the locket, the sounds, the smells, everything. “She wanted me to tell you. ‘He knows.’ ” Looking up into my grandmother’s frightened eyes, this was the first time I had ever seen true fear in my grandmother.

  “Then my worst fears have been realized,” she said as she scurried off to her room just as Matthew came back in with the water.

  “Where is Ms. Matilda going?” asked Matthew nonchalantly.