Highland Lover: A Historical Highlander Steamy Romance Collection (Highland Lover Series Book 6)

by Fiona Knightley

  “So, ya have been stalking me?” Amelia asks, looking intently into his deep blue eyes.

  “Naw!” he says sharply. “That’s a mingin thing to do. I wouldn’t do that,” he adds with a calm smile.

  Amelia stares at him in silence, assessing the mysterious gentlemen before her. She’s not convinced.

  Noticing her stern expression, he adds, “I have seen you whenever you come to the market. At first, it was a coincidence. Then I noticed you do come every Saturday evening to buy and sell scran sometimes.”

  “Coincidence?” questions Amelia.

  “Aye,” “I ran into you one day. You were carrying a basket of potatoes and kale. T’was a few weeks ago. I guess you have forgotten.”

  “Oh!” Yes, now it was coming back to her. She’d run into a man by accident one evening while at the market to sell some of her extra cabbage to stall owners before the market closed. She’d shouted at the man for not being mindful of where he was going, even as he helped her pick up the rolling heads of cabbage from off the ground. But as it was dark and she had been frazzled by the collision, she’d not had a good opportunity to look at the gentleman’s face before he’d faded back into the crowded market.

  She began walking to the dirt path that leads to her house, with the man in tow. “I never ken you would remember me. It has been a long time, and it was dark,” she says sheepishly, remembering how rudely she had spoken to him that evening.

  “Let’s say I have eyes for good things. You are such a bonnie quine with a remarkable face; one can’t forget easily,” said the man with a smile.

  Amelia smiled. This strange fellow who crashes into you in the dark and later buys you fruit is very flattering. And quite bonnie.

  Chapter 28

  When Amelia and the mysterious stranger finally arrive at her cottage, she stops at the front door and turns to face him. A man as well-dressed and well-spoken like he will inevitably be accustomed to a far more luxurious lifestyle than she. Amelia is hesitant to proceed inside, embarrassed by the simplicity of her humble home. Moreover, they’ve just met, and it’d be much too foreword and inappropriate to allow a strange man into her home without first knowing more about his intentions. And as always, she had to ensure the safety of her son, she told herself.

  During their small talk on the walk to her home, she had learned a few things about this man. His name was Thomas Grant. As it turned out, it was a very familiar-sounding name. With good reason, as Thomas Grant was quite well known locally as a merchant in estate and lands.

  When Amelia had first arrived in Dunfermline and in desperate need of any affordable lodgings, many people had suggested she seek out the services of one Mr. Thomas Grant, as he was considered locally to be among the best estate traders in the area. However, arriving in a state of pregnancy and of little money, sh ‘d not been in any position to afford the services of an estate trader, especially one as successful as Thomas Grant (luckily she’d met Gavina). But now meeting him in person, he didn’t come across as proud or condescending, as she’d imagined he might be. No, he was much different than that.

  “I guess I will bid my farewell here as I am not welcomed in for a cuppa tea,” said Thomas with a wink and a slight smile, handing Amelia the bag of fruit.

  “Thank you so much for this,” said Amelia raising the bag. “Though I suggest you should take some from it.”

  “Naw, they are yours. But if you want, you can invite me for a cup of tea next time,” Thomas says, hoping this time, his words will make her say aye.

  Without giving him an answer, Amelia smiles and says, “Bye.” Thomas waits while she enters the cottage and closes the door behind her. After a few seconds, he turns and walks away. As she glances out of the window, Amelia is confident she sees a smile at the corner of his lips.

  “Do you just put away a fine young man like Thomas Grant with a ‘Bye?’” Gavina says as Amelia walks into the cottage.

  “Don’t tell me you have been watching us,” Amelia chuckles as she places the bags on the kitchen table. Of course, Gavina would know the man’s name was Thomas Grant. After all, Dunfermline has always been her home, and the locals knew everyone.

  “I look through the windae immediately when I heard voices. You cannae blame me; you have never brought a man to your hame,” Gavina says, walking towards her.

  Amelia chuckles and nods without saying a word as she continues to empty the contents of the bag onto the table.

  “You bought strawberries and grapes … and a melon?”

  Gavina says, surprised at the sight of the colorful fruit.

  “And a lot of them, fur that matter! Whit happened? You have always said it fair too expensive fur you?”

  “I dinnae buy them.”

  “Who …. Thomas?” Gavina asks in awe.

  “Aye. He insisted. He is quite a persistent young man,” Amelia says.

  “I can imagine. Wait till Owen sees this, he will be thrilled.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He is on a kip. He started just after he ate launch.”

  “Thank you, Gav, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Amelia says with a smile.

  “You can thank me by telling me about Thomas and how you both met,” Gavina says, giggling, which is her telltale sign she’s is eager to hear gossip or a story.

  Amelia laughs softly. “There is nothing to tell.”

  ‘Oft, there is always something to tell, especially when a man comes bearing fruits,” Gavina says as she waves her hand at the items on the stone table. Amelia laughs at this.

  Just then, Owen enters the little kitchen, “Ma,” he says, walking sleepily towards his mother and Gavina. Then, upon seeing the fruits on the table, his eyes lighten up.

  “Berries and melon!” he shouts in excitement and runs towards it. Gavina glances toward Amelia with a look of ‘I told you so’ on her face, and Amelia smiles. She, too, had expected the same reaction from the boy.

  Owen grabs some berries in his little hands and walks over to where his mother has finally taken a seat. With a brilliant, bold smile, he thanks his mother for the fruit, and Amelia kisses his forehead, hugging him close. This is the type of smile she always wishes to see on the face of her son. ; the kind that melts a mother’s heart.

  “Wash them before eating them,” Amelia instructs him.

  “Aye, ma,” He says and leaves.

  “With the joy I see in this lad's eyes; I am more curious to know how you made Thomas buy these for your son. You told him your son likes them?”

  “Naw. He didn’t know I have a barra.”

  “You didn’t tell him?”

  “He never asked. Moreover, we just met. I feel that information is too much for a starter.”

  “Hmm,” Gavina looks at Amelia inquisitively

  “Starter? Meaning there will be something in the future?”

  “Naw! There will not be. I mean starter as friends,”

  “But there is nothing wrong in having him as more …” Gavina smiles.

  “I don’t think I want to be in any love affairs now nor anytime soon.”

  “Why? Because of your past affairs?”

  Amelia nods, “Aye,” she adds.

  “It’s okay. You know what’s right for you. I have to go; Sam will be waiting for me. He wants to take me for a pint and gobble,” Gavina says, smiling feverishly, and Amelia understands the look.

  Whenever Gavina talks about Sam, her face always lights up, which is how Amelia can tell that Gav genuinely loves him. She’s so happy for Gav.

  “Have a good time,” she says and hugs her, which her friend reciprocates with a smile. They bid their farewell, and Gavina leaves.

  What would she ever do without Gavina’s friendship?

  Gavina is more than a friend, she’s family, and Amelia would do anything to make sure Gav never had to go through the same as she. The pain of experiencing true love, only to have it ripped away from you. Having a constant reminder of the love you’ve lost while
watching the very product of that love blossom in front of your eyes as your beautiful child grows. The double-edged sword of a love lost.

  The love she shared with Oliver hurt more than the abuse and pain she’d endured at the hands of Clach. Oliver had been her one true love. She remembered his touch, his smell, his warm breath on her neck as they made love; his kindness. But in the end, it was his actions that had utterly devastated her.

  After revealing to Oliver the truth about her abusive marriage to Laird Clach, Amelia had devised a plan. She would leave the Castle Arboath and travel back to Clach, demanding to be granted a divorce, failing which she would expose Clach indiscretions for all to witness. In the end, Clach begrudgingly agreed, and upon finalizing the divorce, Amelia set forth to return to Oliver and win back his heart. Praying he would take her back, and, most importantly, telling him of her pregnant with his child.

  It wasn’t until after her arduous journey back to Arbroath Castle that she’d heard word of Oliver and Sophie expecting a child together. She at first thought it mere gossip, but upon seeing them had confirmed the news. Heartbroken.

  Amelia had not let Oliver know of her return to Arbroath and did not visit the castle, instead choosing to stay at a modest inn under an assumed identity, not alerting Oliver of her return to the village.

  For the first few days she would venture into the wooded areas close to the castle where she would hide and watch for any sign of Oliver, making sure to stay far enough away as not to raise any alarms with the castle sentries. It was on the third day when she finally caught a glimpse of them both as they emerged from the castle to board a waiting carriage.

  Upon seeing them, her worst fears were confirmed; Sophie was clearly with child.

  Undaunted and hanging on to the slimmest threads of hope, Amelia’s mind raced. What if the baby was actually that of Laird Dunn, former husband to Sophie? Could she be so vile as to misrepresent the child as Oliver’s knowing full well he would do the honorable thing? Sophie was a dangerous woman willing to do anything to get what she wanted at all cost, without conscious or care for those she betrayed.

  Adrenaline surged through Amelia. She’d come all this way and would not leave without being sure. When the carriage had driven out of sight, Amelia left her hiding spot and made her way to the road headed to the castle. How was she going to do this? She thought to herself.

  As Amelia walked closer to the castle grounds, she spotted another figure headed along the same path. She was anxious at first for the other person not to see her. Still, she noticed the figure seemed somewhat familiar and was actually Maggie, one of the castle servants who’d always treated Amelia with kindness. It had been Maggie who’d witnessed Sophie’s poor treatment of Amelia on the day Sophie had arrived at the castle.

  Maggie was surprised and happy to see Amelia, and after they’d said their hellos and had their hug, Amelia explained her situation to Maggie. It was dire, yes, but she had to know the truth about the child Sophie carried, and she begged Maggie not to tell anyone that she’d returned to find out. Maggie gave her vow of secrecy and then delivered the heartbreaking news: “Aye,” the child was Oliver’s.

  It was over. That was it. If Maggie said it to be true, then it was genuinely so. She was trustworthy, and there was no use in denying it. The two women bid a tearful farewell with Maggie, shaken and weepy, wishing Amelia a safe journey and restating her vow to keep Amelia’s visit a secret to the grave.

  Oliver was having a baby with Sophie, and they’d wasted no time in becoming pregnant; it must have happened within weeks from Amelia leaving the castle …

  Oliver must never have loved her.

  Chapter 29

  Amelia put the bundle of straw down beside her kitchen. Aside from the wheat, the straw she produced on her land had many uses; mattress stuffing, kindling for the kitchen stove, mixed with mud to patch holes in the wall, but also sold or traded for other goods. All of Amelia’s crops were small and, as such, didn’t turn much of a profit. All she needed was more land, and she could produce income. More land, more money. But how? She wasn’t afraid of hard work, even though the hours were long, the labour was back breaking, and the business dirty. Amelia knew in her heart that she would succeed if she just persevered. The only thing holding her back more land

  If her father was able to make a tidy profit from his farmland after she’d been handed off to Laird Clach, she knew she could do it, too. But for now, she had to make do with the small portion of land behind her cottage, and she would, thanks to Gavina, who had made it possible in the first place.

  Speaking of Gavina, she and Owen would be back soon. While she stayed to work the land, Owen had accompanied “aunty” Gavina to tend to the cows in her pasture next door. Amelia had agreed to this immediately, seizing the opportunity to get some work done uninterrupted by the lad. When Owen was around, there tended to be more playing and less working. Besides, if anyone could handle Owen, it was Gavina. She was like a second mother, an aunt, and a big sister to the boy; all rolled up into one.

  A street festival to celebrate the local harvest had been organized by the townsfolk and would occur in the village square later that evening. The three of them had planned to walk into the village later and take part in the festivities. As the sun began to lower in the horizon, Amelia gazed out the cottage window and wondered aloud as to when Gav and Owen would be back from their day of adventures. Before they’d left, Gavina had instructed Amelia to be ready upon their return. They’d be home soon, and she needed to wash up and put on some respectable clothing before heading into town.

  Amelia looks out of the window of her cottage as the evening approaches. Gavina and Owen will be back soon, and she needs to wash and prepare as quickly as possible. Gavina would roll her eyes and talk if she came back to see Amelia still in her dirty clothes. She told her to be ready before returning and won’t want to miss the show for anything.

  The water from the kettle is just warm enough for the washbasin. While lathering the soap to wash the day’s work from her face, there comes a knock at the door. Oops! Gavina has beaten her to it. She’s not quite ready to go, but no matter, Gavina won’t have to wait for long while she finishes getting dressed.

  “Don’t get mad at me, please,” Amelia says with a little chuckle as she opens the door, “Ah'm about to go…” She stops mid-sentence, surprised at who she finds standing on her doorstep.

  What is Thomas doing here?

  “Hello,” Thomas says with a bright smile, “Why would I be mad at ya?” he jokes.

  “H...hello,” Amelia says with confusion in her voice. “The words weren’t meant for you.”

  “I know, of course,” he says with a smile and runs his eyes over her clothes.

  A flush of embarrassment rushes over Amelia. It was awful for him to see her this dirty. Will he understand if she tells him that she has been working on the farm all day?

  For a man of his stature, he might not understand.

  “Did I interrupt you? You seem to be busy with farm work,” he says, gesturing toward her clothing.

  Surprised, she answers, “Aye. I…I mean naw, Ah'm was through with the farm a few minutes ago. I was aboot to wash when you knocked.” Why is she so nervous?

  Thomas nods to this. “Can I come in?”

  Oh my, has she forgotten her manners? She moves to open the door wide for him but hesitates. What would he think of her house? Her home is humble and not ornately appointed, like the luxury he is no doubt used to.

  “Please, a cup of tea would be braw,” he immediately adds, noticing her hesitation.

  Slowly, she opens the door, and Thomas walks in graciously with a broad smile across his face. Amelia watches closely for any hesitation or an untoward expression. Instead, Thomas makes his way in, takes a look around the house, and takes a seat on a kitchen chair.

  “Your hame feels cozy. I wondered why you wouldn’t invite me in.”

  “For a man of your state, I felt it wouldn’t be comforta
ble for ya?”

  Thomas chuckles. “I wasn’t born into money. Some of us came to our wealth with hard work. Do you live here alone?”

  Amelia thought for a second how best to answer. She has never for once denied having a child and wouldn’t start doing so now. Her son is all that brings her joy in this world where betrayal and mistrust run rampant. Moreover, what are his intentions? Why is here?. Whatever they are, she doesn’t intend to hide her son from him for any reason

  “Naw, I live with my son. He's three-years-old,” Amelia says, looking him straight in the face.

  “Are you married?” He asks with a look of slight sadness crossing his face.

  “Oh, no.” This time, it’s Amelia’s face that turns solemn; memories of Oliver always cause her sadness. Thomas, who was relieved upon hearing she is unwed, perks up slightly. Amelia notices the glad mien on his face.

  “Deceased?” asks Thomas.

  “No, just a failed betrothal,” Amelia answers, not wanting him to ask any further questions. She walks to a small wood burning stove and puts the kettle on the fire. “How do you like your tea?”

  “The way you serve, it will be fine. I deh seem to see him around, where is he? I mean, your son,” he asks, craning his neck.

  “He is out with a friend. They will be back soon.”

  Thomas nods. They drink their tea and make small talk about this and that and whomever, and Thomas didn’t pry any further about Amelia's past life. Had that been a look of sadness in her eyes when he’d mentioned her husband? Perhaps. One thing is certain; Amelia did not want to discuss it further.

  They sat for quite some time enjoying each other’s company. It was a lovely visit, exactly five days since they’d met in the market, and he’d purchased a bag of fruit for her.

  Thomas Gant had gained her attention.

  Chapter 30

  Just as Oliver lays on his bed, there is a gentle tap on the door. He initially thought he was mistaken, probably just one of the staff being clumsy or knocking something onto the floor. Then the knock again; this time it’s clearly someone at his door.