"Excuse me, my lady, but I have a missive for you."
Amelia accepted the letter. The servant left, and she broke the seal. Immediately she recognized the script and her heart rate increased with worry.
Amelia,
This letter comes with a heavy heart. I write to let you know we have just now begun our journey. Our departure was delayed due to weather and illness. As I write all are well and in good spirits, so you mustn't fret.
Although this is the case, I'm sorry to say Christmas day will most likely pass before we set eyes on you. If all goes well, we will see you after the first of the year.
Tell Millie and Stephen and their beautiful children that we love them and hope to see them soon.
Love, Mother and Father
Her head fell against the couch cushions, and she sighed. A laugh of happiness escaped her throat. She'd been graced with two more weeks of freedom! No greater gift could have been bestowed upon her.
She gathered her skirts and ran to tell Millie the news.
Millie accepted the information with happiness. "This is perfect. It means we can travel to Walterborough without fear of missing Mother and Father. Why we might even be able to purchase gifts while we're about."
Amelia agreed and rushed to her room to pack. The children were prepared for Millie's brief absence. Pookie and Misty were put in charge of their care while Stephen, Millie, and Amelia traveled to town.
The open-aired buckboard waited outside. Stephen helped them onto the bench. He hadn't lied when he'd said the trip would be cold. Chill wind seeped through Amelia's gown. Blankets, gloves, hats, knee-high boots, and several other items served to warm them. Yet still they huddled together. Amelia tried to ignore her sister's chattering teeth.
"Tell me this was necessary," said Amelia, blowing on her clasped hands.
"In-indeed, the trip was n-necessary. If we go to town now the streets will be empty and we'll be able to sh-shop for Christmas gifts. Besides what else is there to d-do?"
Visit the Vincent Estate, thought Amelia.
A trip that normally took a few hours, took them most of the day. Rain from the week before had made parts of the road impassable, and they'd had to take an alternate route. Instead of shopping and returning home the same day, Stephen recommended staying in an inn overnight and Amelia and Millie graciously accepted.
The two horses and the wagon were left in the care of the livery. While Stephen settled in at the hotel, Millie and Amelia set out. The town sported one main street lined with several buildings offering items for sale. Millie headed to the Wright Mercantile and Amelia hesitated.
"We should find everything we need here," said Millie.
"But don't you feel odd shopping there?"
Millie grinned. "Not at all. Old man Wright made amends, so I see no reason to hold it against him and his family forever. Besides this is the only place that offers what we're looking for."
Amelia clutched her purse tightly and followed her sister inside. The gray clouds in the sky kept the room dark. Candles were lit and placed on shelves around the store offering light.
"Who should we search for first?" asked Millie.
"The twins," answered Amelia.
They entered a section of handmade toys. Amelia picked up a wooden wagon with wooden wheels and an intricately carved set of horses for Nathan and a homemade plush doll for Natalie.
Another section of the store held manly items. She bought two metal belt buckles for both Stephen and his father. Something poked her side and Amelia lifted a hat with a plume of colorful feathers.
"This is Evelyn," said Amelia causing Millie to burst into laughter.
Next to the register, their pile grew. Amelia found two matching hair clips for Cora and Millie and hid them amongst the other items. She gnawed on her lip. What of Charles and Victor? Either one would be unhappy to know she'd purchased a gift for the other.
Perusing the aisles, Amelia wrung her hands. What did one get for a landowner who most likely had everything?
Light reflected on an object buried deep on a shelf. Amelia moved items aside and pulled it free. Crafted from a shiny material, the rectangular box squeaked as the lid opened. Stuffed inside was folded paper tied with a ribbon.
The proprietor slipped up behind her. "I see you found the old box of love letters. I wondered where they had gotten to."
"Box of love letters?"
"Yes. Some gentleman came in one day needing money and this was the only thing he had to sell. I tried to offer him charity but he wouldn't take it without selling me something. He claimed the letters held value but I don't know for sure because I didn't have the heart to read something so personal."
"Will you sell them?"
He scratched his temple. "I reckon so but I don't know what you'll do with a bunch of dusty old letters."
"Let's just say I like the box."
The man shrugged and shuffled back to the register.
Amelia found a pair of cuff links and placed them with her pile. "Millie, I'm ready."
Millie joined her and they checked out. The items were packaged and set for delivery to the inn where they stayed.
As Millie had predicted the streets were largely empty. Only a few people strolled the boardwalk. Amelia huddled beneath the collar of her cloak and briefly remembered her first trip to Walterborough. Would Victor be at his townhouse? Should she ask to make a visit?
They arrived at their destination all too soon. The bell rang overhead as they entered. Amelia waved to the inn's owner.
"How are you enjoying your stay in South Carolina, miss?"
"I'm enjoying it quite well, thank you."
After the exchange of pleasantries, Amelia and Millie entered their room to find Stephen stretched out in a high back chair, his legs crossed at the ankles. "Was your excursion successful?"
"Very. We're both ready for the holidays. What of yours?"
Stephen lifted one side of his lips into a wicked grin. "You will see when it is time and not before."
Millie fell into his lap. The happy couple kissed and Amelia looked away. The sight of her sister and brother-in-law in love caused her much distress. Would she ever experience that kind of love?
In her private bedroom, she removed her gloves and warmed her hands by the fire. The flames licked the wood. If Amelia closed her eyes she could almost imagine herself sitting in front of the cabin fireplace, Charles resting at her feet, and staring up at her, the blue of his eyes twinkling with mirth.
What would it be like if she was free to explore a relationship with Charles? If she was free to live where she desired?
Wood popped, jolting her from her thoughts. Crates containing the gifts she'd purchased sat neatly along the wall.
Amelia shifted through the items until she came to the shiny box filled with letters. She opened the lid and stared inside. Why she thought this was an appropriate gift for Charles she wasn't sure. Yet from the moment she'd seen it reflect against the light she'd known this was the gift he needed.
The box sat on the bed beside her and she stroked the aged paper of the top letter. Pinching a corner, she hesitated to lift it free.
A window blew open and a gust of cold air rushed inside. Amelia hurried to close it. Looking over the town, she laid her head against the cold pane. If she sent letters to her love would she want someone to read them? Perhaps it was best if they stayed a secret.
Walking to the bed, she closed the lid, and felt instant peace.
Chapter Thirteen
Charles stood at the head of the table and plastered a smile on his face. They would arrive any minute. The guests and…Amelia. His heart beat rapidly and sweat gathered along his brow. How he longed to see her again.
Servants flitted about. The dining room table was covered in red and green cloth. Plates, glasses, and silverware set before each chair.
Stephen and Millie entered. He held his breath. Amelia walked through the double doors and stopped. She was a vision of lovelines
s. The pale blue gown contrasted with her dark hair and eyes. The puffy sleeves accentuated her slimming waist. She covered her rounded mouth.
Charles coughed to hide his laughter. He clapped his hands together and began his prepared speech. "Welcome to the Walterborough Inn. Walterborough became a city in 1783 when two brothers sought a place to escape the bug ridden marshes of the South Carolina summer. Every year it grows. Now come, sit, and eat."
Men materialized from the corners of the room and pulled out the chairs for the women. More guests wandered from their rooms prepared to dine.
Amelia studied him. He tried to look away from her but her beauty was impossible to ignore.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered.
He placed a linen napkin over his lap, a grin tilting his lips. "Why I'm enjoying dinner with a beautiful woman."
Amelia blushed. "Thank you for the compliment but I want to know why you're in our inn and hosting our dinner?"
Stephen cleared his throat. "If I might explain?"
"Go right ahead," said Charles.
Amelia placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. A wisp of hair escaped her bun and Charles fought the urge to touch it.
"You see, Amelia, Charles is a doer. Home is boring to him. So at least once a week he comes into town and hosts the Inn's dinner party. In return, he receives a free meal."
"I see."
"Besides the fact I believe he enjoys hobnobbing with the cream de la cream of South Carolinian society."
Charles kicked Stephen in the shin and Stephen grunted.
"What did you do that for?"
Charles kicked him again and finally Stephen stopped talking.
"Is what Stephen said true? Do you travel into town for a free meal? Why would you do that? Does your cook not please you? Do you wish to meet new women? I don't understand."
Charles regretted his decision to come to town while Amelia was there. What had he been thinking? Only that he wanted to see her. He wanted to touch her smooth skin. He wanted to smell her sweet smell. But he'd been wrong. This was a mistake.
He pushed his chair back but stopped when Amelia's delicate hand graced his arm. "Please don't run away. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It just seems you know everything about me, but I know so little about you. You've met my entire family, stayed at my home, walked through my gardens, and yet I've not graced your doorstep."
You aren't exactly correct.
"I would love to come to your home and tour the grounds. You did promise me."
Charles ran his unsteady finger around his collar. "I don't remember promising."
"Don't you remember at my home when we were in the garden and you said it reminded you of your own home and how you would love for me to visit it someday?"
"Yes, but that was hardly a promise."
"Oh, I guess I misunderstood." She faced the table. A tear slipped from her eye.
Charles ached to reach out and swipe it away, but what would it accomplish. The tear rolled off her chin and fell on the silken fabric of her dress. He attempted to focus his attention on those around him. Ignoring her disappointment, at least for now, was for the best.
Light banter flowed for the rest of the evening. Many of the guests had come from other parts of the country and reveled in telling stories of where they hailed from and why they visited South Carolina. Mothers with young daughters sought gentleman for them to marry. Young men sought work and new lives.
Charles kept his head down and his unringed finger out of sight. The last thing he needed was another female in pursuit of him.
"I do believe I'm ready to retire. Stephen would you mind taking me upstairs?" asked Millie.
Stephen helped her up and scooted their chairs to the table. "Not at all, my darling."
Millie grabbed his hand and they walked away. Amelia didn't follow, and Charles' nervousness grew.
"I think they need some time alone. I believe my sister has been kept at the plantation since the birth of the twins and perhaps a long while afterward."
"She has. This is her first trip to town since she arrived in South Carolina."
Her glass slammed the table. "Surely not! Why did she not tell me? I would have left the suite and walked the streets to allow them more privacy."
"I'm sure she didn't wish to hurt your feelings."
"Preposterous. I'm made of sterner stuff."
"Of that I have no doubt."
Amelia pushed her dessert around on her plate. When she lifted her face, tears brimmed in her eyes.
He tried to ignore his surge of pity. The urge to comfort her overwhelmed him and he pushed away from the table, grabbed her hand, and led her outside onto the veranda. The night air was cool, and he removed his coat and placed it across her shoulders.
They walked from one side to the other stopping after two trips. Moonlight reflected off stone statues in the front yard.
"This is a beautiful place."
"Yes, it is."
"I can understand why Millie doesn't mind living here."
"Did I ever tell you about my travels to Europe?"
"No."
"I spent a year abroad. My parents firmly believed absence makes the heart grow fonder and they were correct. After floundering around for a year, I was more than ready to return home and settle down."
"Oh."
"It was too bad they passed away in an accident only two weeks after I arrived back home."
"How dreadful!"
"At the time I despaired of ever finding peace, but working the land and taking care of the place they loved more than anything in the world helped me."
Eerie silence pervaded and was broken only by the sound of the wind whistling and the chattering of Amelia's teeth.
"Let's retire to the parlor. It is entirely too cold for you outside."
Amelia didn't argue and he led her inside. The room radiated warmth. Other guests lounged on chairs enjoying cups of wine. In the corner a pianist played softly. Couples danced in a small open area. The scene was quite romantic.
Charles picked an empty settee for them and urged her to sit. After retrieving glasses filled with wine he joined her.
"A toast to friends staying friends."
She nodded and his heart twisted. The promise of friendship was all he could give her. Without his land, he had nothing to offer. She deserved better.
Their glasses clicked together, and his cracked. Red liquid seeped through, ran around the side, down the stem, and dripped onto his trousers. Amelia rushed to staunch the tide but as the crack widened so did the flow. Soon he would wear the entire cup.
With quick thinking she took it from him and poured the liquid into her own. Air whooshed from her throat and a smile tugged the corner of her lips. "Perhaps we can share?"
Nothing prepared him for those words. If only life was that easy. But nothing was that simple.
****
Stephen's rooms consisted of a suite with an outer room and two separate bedrooms, currently each bedroom housed a sleeping damsel.
Charles glanced away from the closed doors and asked, "Are you sure?"
"I'm fairly certain. I grilled Millie, and she confessed that Amelia purchased a gift for you at the mercantile although she would give no hint as to what the gift was."
Charles ran an agitated hand through his hair. "What can I get her? I have no idea what she likes."
"Jewelry, flowers, candy, every woman likes those things. Or a new bolt of cloth for a dress. Perhaps a bonnet or a ribbon. I'm sure you'll think of something."
Stephen buried his head in the newspaper and Charles pulled it down and stared over the bunched top.
"This is Amelia we're talking about. It has to be something special. Something unique. I can't just purchase a tired, used-up gift that anyone could get her."
Stephen folded the paper and set it aside. "Not to be the bearer of bad news, but at the moment your funds are limited. The work you've performed in town has only brought in enough
to cover the fees you still owe the litigator you hired two years ago to fight your uncle. Trust me when I say I've studied your finances, and you don't have enough to consider anything more than a mere trinket."
"What about my toy sales to the mercantile? Haven't I made anything there?"
"Make sure to check, but I believe you have just drawn even. Remember they give you the wood and supplies on credit."
"This is impossible. I have to have money somewhere. I thought you were helping with my finances not just informing me I have no finances to help."
"I'm only telling you the truth. Now if you want a loan, I don't mind–"
"No loans. I'm capable of finding Amelia a present without that. I'll just have to be creative, that's all."
Charles paced the outer room stopping every few feet to study the closed doors.
Pages of the newspaper rattled as Stephen picked it up again and thumbed through. Charles grabbed his coat and left. There was much to do and little time in which to do it.
First he walked to the mercantile. The proprietor sat behind the counter sucking on a piece of candy.
"Mr. Vincent it is nice to see you again. You'll be happy to know your toys have been selling since we've entered the Christmas season."
"I'm glad to hear it. In fact, that is why I've come to visit. I would like to pick up my pay."
The old man shook his head and pulled out a large book. The pages crinkled as he flipped them. Figures stained the page from top to bottom.
"Let's have a look see. Here is what you owed for supplies, umm, and here is what you've earned. There seems to be a surplus of about one dollar and ten cents."
Charles heart sank. He took the money and pocketed it. Next, he looked around the store for a gift. The coins jiggled with each step. Several items in his price range caught his attention but none held it. Nothing in this store would impress Amelia.
He walked onto the street. Sunlight hit him full in the face and he shielded his eyes. A gift didn't mean anything if was purchased just to give something, anything, to said person. It only meant something if one put time, effort, and thought into what the person might like. An idea struck him.
Amelia (Southern Hearts Book 2) Page 7
