Tracie Peterson (12 page)

“Will Jonas be taking you out again tomorrow?” Logan asked as if nothing was amiss.

Amelia saw her father exchange a glance with Lord Gambett before answering. “Yes, I suppose he will. I understand you have offered to assist my daughter in gathering information for her book. I would like to discuss the terms of your employment after we finish with the meal.”

Logan shook his head. “I didn’t offer to be employed. I suggested to Lady Amhurst that I act as a hiking guide and she refused.” He looked hard at Amelia, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes and his mustached twitched in its usual betraying fashion.

“It seemed improper to accept your suggestion,” Amelia said rather stiffly.

“Nonsense, child. The man is fully qualified to assist you,” Lord Amhurst stated. “I’ll make all the arrangements after dinner.”

Amelia felt Logan’s eyes on her and blushed from head to toe. The discomfort she felt was nothing compared to what she knew would come if she didn’t leave immediately. Surprising her family, she got up rather quickly.

“I beg your forgiveness, but I must be excused.” Without waiting for her father’s approval, Amelia left the room.

Much to her frustration, Jeffery Chamberlain was upon her heels in a matter of seconds. “Are you ill, Amelia?” His voice oozed concern.

“I am quite well,” she replied, keeping a steady pace to her walk. “I simply needed to take the air.”

“I understand perfectly,” he replied and took hold of her elbow as if to assist her.

Amelia jerked away and once they had rounded the front of the lodge, she turned to speak her mind. “Sir Jeffery, there are some issues we must have settled between us.”

“I quite agree, but surely you wouldn’t seek to speak of them here. Perhaps we can steal away to a quiet corner of the lodge,” he suggested.

Amelia shook her head. “I am sure what I desire to speak of will not be in keeping with what you desire to speak of.”

“But Amelia—”

“Please give me a moment,” she interrupted. Amelia saw his expression of concern change to one of puzzlement. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite.

“You must come to understand,” she began, “that I have no desire to follow my father’s wishes and marry you.” She raised a hand to silence his protests. “Please hear me out. My father might find you a wonderful candidate for a son-in-law, but I will not marry a man I do not love. And, Sir Jeffery Chamberlain, I do not now, nor will I ever, love you.”

The man’s expression suggested anger and hurt, and for a moment Amelia thought to soften the blow. “However, my sisters find you quite acceptable as a prospective husband, so I would encourage you to court one of them.”

At this Jeffery seemed insulted and puffed out his chest with a jerk of his chin. “I have no intentions of marrying your sisters,” he said firmly. “I have an agreement with your father to acquire your hand in matrimony.”

“But you have no such agreement with me, Sir Jeffery.”

“It matters little. The men in our country arrange such affairs, not addle-brained women.”

“Addle-brained?” Amelia was barely holding her anger in check. “You think me addle-brained?”

“When you act irresponsibly such as you are now, then yes, I do,” he replied.

“I see. And what part of my actions implies being addle-brained?” she questioned. “Is it that I see no sense in joining in a marriage of convenience to a man I cannot possibly hope to love?”

“It is addle-brained and whimsical to imagine that such things as love are of weighted importance in this arrangement. Your father is seeing to the arrangement as he would any other business proposition. He is benefiting the family name, the family holdings, and the family coffers. Only a selfish and greedy young woman would see it as otherwise.”

“So now I am addle-brained, whimsical, selfish, and greedy,” Amelia said with haughty air. “Why in the world would you seek such a wife, Sir Chamberlain?”

Jeffery seemed to wilt a bit under her scrutiny. “I didn’t mean to imply you were truly those things. But the air that you take in regards to our union would suggest you have given little consideration to the needs of others.”

“So now I am inconsiderate as well!” Amelia turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the cabin.

Jeffery hurried after her. “You must understand, Amelia, these things are done for the betterment of all concerned.”

She turned at this, completely unable to control her anger. “Jeffery, these things are done in order to keep my father in control of my mother’s fortune. There hasn’t been any consideration given to my desires or needs, and therefore I find it impossible to believe it has anything to do with my welfare or betterment.”

“I can give you a good life,” Jeffery replied barely keeping his temper in check. “I have several estates to where we might spend out our days and you will bring your own estate into the arrangement as well. You’ve a fine piece of Scottish land, or so your father tells me.”

“But I have no desire to spend out my days with you. Not on the properties you already own, nor the properties that I might bring into a marriage. Please understand, so that we might spend our days here in America as amicably as possible,” she said with determined conviction, “I will not agree to marry you.”

Jeffery’s face contorted and to Amelia’s surprise he spoke out in a manner close to rage. “You will do what you are told and it matters little what you agree to. Your father and I have important matters riding on this circumstance and that alone is what will gain consideration. You will marry me, Amelia, and furthermore,” he paused with a suggestive leer on his face, “you will find it surprisingly enjoyable.”

“I would sooner marry Logan Reed as to join myself in union to a boorish snob such as yourself.” Silently she wished for something to throw at the smug-faced Jeffery, but instead she calmed herself and fixed him with a harsh glare. “I pray you understand, and understand well. I will never marry you and I will take whatever measures are necessary to ensure that I win out in this unpleasant situation.”

She stormed off to her cabin, seething from the confrontation, but also a bit frightened by Jeffery’s strange nature. She’d never seen him more out of character and it gave her cause to wonder. She knew there had always been a mischievous, almost devious side to his personality. The memory of hanging over the banister in fear of plunging to her death on the floor below affirmed Amelia’s consideration. Jeffery had always leaned a bit on the cruel side of practical jokes and teasing play. Still, she couldn’t imagine that he was all that dangerous. He wanted something very badly from her father and no doubt he could just as easily obtain it by marrying one of her sisters. After all, they adored him.

Reaching her cabin, Amelia reasoned away her fears. Her father’s insistence that she marry Jeffery was in order to preserve the inheritance. Perhaps there was some other legal means by which Amelia could waive rights to her portion of the estate. It was worth questioning her father. If he saw the sincerity of her desire to remain single, even to the point of giving up what her mother had planned to be rightfully hers, Amelia knew she’d have no qualms about doing exactly that.

“I would sooner marry Logan Reed.” The words suddenly came back to haunt her. At first she laughed at this prospect while unfastening the back buttons of her gown.
What would married life be like with the likes of Logan Reed?
She could see herself in a cold cabin, kneading bread and scrubbing clothes on a washboard. She didn’t even know how to cook and the thought of Logan laboring to choke down a meal prepared with her own two hands made Amelia laugh all the harder.

The gown slid down from her shoulders and fell in a heap on the floor. Absentmindedly Amelia ran her hands down her slender white arms. Laughter died in her throat as an image of Logan doing the same thing came to mind. She imagined staring deep into his green eyes and finding everything she’d ever searched for. Answers to all her questions would be revealed in his soul-searching gaze, including the truths of life that seemed to elude her. Shuddering in a sudden wake of emotion, Amelia quickly pulled on the mountain skirt.

“He means nothing to me,” she murmured defensively. “Logan Reed means nothing to me.”

Having dismissed himself from the dinner table on the excuse of bringing in wood for Mary, Logan had overheard most of the exchange between Jeffery and Amelia. At first he thought he might need to intercede on Amelia’s behalf when Jeffery seemed to get his nose a bit out of joint, but the declaration of Amelia preferring to marry Logan over Jeffery had stopped him in his tracks.

At first he was mildly amused. He admired the young woman’s spirit of defense and her ability to put the uppity Englishman in his place. He imagined with great pleasure the shock to Sir Chamberlain’s noble esteem when Amelia declared her thoughts on the matter of marriage. At least it gave him a better understanding of what was going on between the members of the party. He’d felt an underlying current of tension from the first time he’d met them, especially between the trio of Lord Amhurst, Jeffery, and Amelia. Now, it was clearly understood that the earl planned to see his daughter married to Jeffery, and it was even clearer that Amelia had no desire to comply with her father’s wishes.
But why?
Logan wondered.
Why would it be so important for the earl to pass his daughter off to Chamberlain?

“I would sooner marry Logan Reed.” He remembered the words and felt a bit smug. He knew she’d intended it as an insult to Jeffery, but it didn’t matter. For reasons beyond his understanding, Logan felt as though he’d come one step closer to making Amelia his lady.

I
n spite of her father’s desire to have Amelia seek out Logan’s assistance as her hiking guide, Amelia chose instead to hike alone. She was often up before any of the others and usually found herself in the kitchen of the lodge, learning the various culinary skills that Mary performed.

“You’re doing a fine job, Amelia,” Mary told her.

Amelia stared down at the dough rings as they floated and sizzled in a pool of lard. “And you call these doughnuts?” she questioned, careful to turn them before they burned on one side.

“Sure. Sure. Some folks call them oly koeks. The menfolk love ’em though. I could fix six dozen of these a day and have them gone by noon. Once the men learn doughnuts are on the table, I can’t get rid of them till they get rid of the doughnuts.”

Amelia laughed. They didn’t seem all that hard to make and she rather enjoyed the way they bobbed up and down in the fat. It reminded her of the life preservers on board the ship they’d use to cross the Atlantic. “I’ll remember that.”

“Sure, you’ll make a lot of friends if you fix these for your folks back in England,” Mary replied.

Amelia couldn’t begin to imagine the reaction of her “folks back in England” should they see her bent over a stove, laboring to bring doughnuts to the table. “I’m afraid,” she began, “that it would never be considered appropriate for me to do such a thing at home.”

“No?” Mary seemed surprised. “I betcha they’d get eaten.”

“Yes, I’d imagine after everyone recovered from the fits of apoplexy, they just might eat the doughnuts.” She pulled the rings from the grease and sprinkled them with sugar just as Mary had shown her to do. It was while she was engrossed in this task that Logan popped his head through the open doorway.

“Ummm, I don’t have to ask what you’re doing today, Mary.”

“Ain’t me, Logan. It’s Amelia. She’s turning into right handy kitchen help.”

Logan raised a brow of question in Amelia’s direction. “I don’t believe it. Let me taste one of those doughnuts.” He reached out before Amelia could stop him and popped half of the ring into his mouth. His expression changed as though he were considering a very weighty question. Without breaking his stoic expression he finished the doughnut and reached for another. “I’d better try again.” He ate this one in three bites instead of two and again the expression on his face remained rigidly set. “Mary, better pour me a cup of coffee. I’m going to have to try another one in order to figure out if they’re as good as yours or maybe, just maybe, a tiny sight better.”

Amelia flushed crimson and turned quickly to put more rings into the grease before Logan spoke again. “Now I know we’ll have to keep this one around.”

Mary laughed and brought him the coffee. “That’s what I keep tellin’ her. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed a summer visitor more. Most young ladies of her upbringin’ are a bit more uppity. They never want to learn kitchen work, that’s for sure.”

Amelia tried not to feel pride in the statement. She knew full well that Logan had once considered her one of those more uppity types and rightly so. For the past few weeks even Amelia couldn’t explain the change in her attitude and spirit. She found the countryside inspiring and provoking, and with each passing day she felt more and more a part of this land.

Not realizing it, she shook her head.
I’m English,
she thought and turned the doughnuts.
I cannot possibly belong to this place.
She looked up feeling a sense of guilt and found Logan’s gaze fixed on her. A surge of emotion raced through her.
I cannot possibly belong to this man.