to gambling, but to smuggling, illegal trading and worse.
Hamish, who knew nothing of the more refined side of life, except through the books I read to him, had never felt an affinity for his father. Even as a very small child, he seemed to understand that his father was lacking in traits that he valued. My nephew learned the tricks of the trade, as we were forced to do to survive, but his interests were in the pages of the adventure stories we read together. Honor, bravery, loyalty: these were the ideas that captivated him. And now, with his angelic face lit with delight, I could detect that he had found aspects of that fantasy here, in this unexpected reality. His wooden sword had served him like a talisman, a link to a world far from the backstreets of Edinburgh, where men aspired to greatness, where heroism was the goal, not deceit. And this new shiny metal treasure seemed to embody something that had been missing from his life. Not hope. Hope tended to be disappointing, for the most part. This sword glimmered with something more concrete. Escape. And attainment. With this sword in his hand, Hamish could truly aspire to the ideas of valor that had so captured his imagination.
That symbolic weapon, clutched as it was in Hamish’s grip, seemed to signal a change. For him, and for us. Hamish could begin to protect himself, as he would have need to do, against the evildoers that sought him out, if they were ever to find him. That small sword felt wildly auspicious, and I was grateful to Knox Mackenzie for providing it. For somehow introducing a real glimmer of fortunateness into our lives. In that moment, I resolved to leave Hamish here, at Kinloch. My journey was not yet over—I had yet to find out what had happened to my sister. But Hamish would be safe here, I felt certain. Knox Mackenzie might be arrogant and self-important, but he was also honorable. And, surprisingly, caring. He had read the simple desire of a nine-year-old boy and had gone out of his way to grant it. Without any obligation to do so, at all.
I felt like throwing my arms around Knox Mackenzie and giving him a very appreciative kiss.
But, of course, I did not.
“You’re early,” Knox commented, to Hamish.
My mind was whirling, hatching a plan. Now that I had found a place to leave Hamish, where I knew he would at least be fed and protected behind guarded clan walls, I could begin to plan my return to Edinburgh. I would need money to pay for food and possibly transport. I remembered Knox’s sisters’ offers to help me find work, and I thought I might go to them, to ask them if there were tasks I could perform for them here at Kinloch in exchange for some coinage.
“Amelia.” Knox’s voice trod through my thoughts, scattering them. “I might ask if you’d enjoy a stroll through the flower gardens, just to the west of the orchards. Or you might prefer to return to your guest chambers for a rest after the trials of your long journey. I will speak to your brother for a time, and then he can join you.”
Part two of the dreaded double-pronged inquisition. The one in which our lies could very well be revealed.
Now that I knew the extent of Knox Mackenzie’s keen intelligence, I felt a jab of panic in my heart. Best if I waited until the verdict was reached as far as our fate at Kinloch was concerned. It was likely that Laird Mackenzie would uncover all our dark secrets within the hour, and immediately banish us from the sanctuary of his clan’s keep. The thought distressed me for a number of reasons. First, it would delay my trip back to Edinburgh, since I would need to start from scratch in my search to find a safe haven for Hamish. Second, I found the thought of leaving this idyllic, magical place unsettling. We’d only just arrived, yet I was already becoming addicted to the pleasure this place delivered to my senses. The beauty of it was supreme. The calm, peaceful safety of it was nothing less than sublime. Third, well, I didn’t
Hamish, who knew nothing of the more refined side of life, except through the books I read to him, had never felt an affinity for his father. Even as a very small child, he seemed to understand that his father was lacking in traits that he valued. My nephew learned the tricks of the trade, as we were forced to do to survive, but his interests were in the pages of the adventure stories we read together. Honor, bravery, loyalty: these were the ideas that captivated him. And now, with his angelic face lit with delight, I could detect that he had found aspects of that fantasy here, in this unexpected reality. His wooden sword had served him like a talisman, a link to a world far from the backstreets of Edinburgh, where men aspired to greatness, where heroism was the goal, not deceit. And this new shiny metal treasure seemed to embody something that had been missing from his life. Not hope. Hope tended to be disappointing, for the most part. This sword glimmered with something more concrete. Escape. And attainment. With this sword in his hand, Hamish could truly aspire to the ideas of valor that had so captured his imagination.
That symbolic weapon, clutched as it was in Hamish’s grip, seemed to signal a change. For him, and for us. Hamish could begin to protect himself, as he would have need to do, against the evildoers that sought him out, if they were ever to find him. That small sword felt wildly auspicious, and I was grateful to Knox Mackenzie for providing it. For somehow introducing a real glimmer of fortunateness into our lives. In that moment, I resolved to leave Hamish here, at Kinloch. My journey was not yet over—I had yet to find out what had happened to my sister. But Hamish would be safe here, I felt certain. Knox Mackenzie might be arrogant and self-important, but he was also honorable. And, surprisingly, caring. He had read the simple desire of a nine-year-old boy and had gone out of his way to grant it. Without any obligation to do so, at all.
I felt like throwing my arms around Knox Mackenzie and giving him a very appreciative kiss.
But, of course, I did not.
“You’re early,” Knox commented, to Hamish.
My mind was whirling, hatching a plan. Now that I had found a place to leave Hamish, where I knew he would at least be fed and protected behind guarded clan walls, I could begin to plan my return to Edinburgh. I would need money to pay for food and possibly transport. I remembered Knox’s sisters’ offers to help me find work, and I thought I might go to them, to ask them if there were tasks I could perform for them here at Kinloch in exchange for some coinage.
“Amelia.” Knox’s voice trod through my thoughts, scattering them. “I might ask if you’d enjoy a stroll through the flower gardens, just to the west of the orchards. Or you might prefer to return to your guest chambers for a rest after the trials of your long journey. I will speak to your brother for a time, and then he can join you.”
Part two of the dreaded double-pronged inquisition. The one in which our lies could very well be revealed.
Now that I knew the extent of Knox Mackenzie’s keen intelligence, I felt a jab of panic in my heart. Best if I waited until the verdict was reached as far as our fate at Kinloch was concerned. It was likely that Laird Mackenzie would uncover all our dark secrets within the hour, and immediately banish us from the sanctuary of his clan’s keep. The thought distressed me for a number of reasons. First, it would delay my trip back to Edinburgh, since I would need to start from scratch in my search to find a safe haven for Hamish. Second, I found the thought of leaving this idyllic, magical place unsettling. We’d only just arrived, yet I was already becoming addicted to the pleasure this place delivered to my senses. The beauty of it was supreme. The calm, peaceful safety of it was nothing less than sublime. Third, well, I didn’t
Similar Books
