Amanda looked around herself, seeing a prosperous-looking row of little shops and stalls; a butcher, a greengrocer, a tavern, a haberdasher, and an ironmonger amongst others. At the far end of the main street stood a little church surrounded by a well-tended flower garden. Amanda liked the place at once; even the tavern looked a little bit less disreputable than most.
Hamish drew to a halt and dismounted, then tied his horse to a rail and reached up to help Amanda get down. As he drew her downwards, their bodies brushed against each other, and she felt a pleasant tingle of awareness go through her. She realised that whatever her finer feelings were for this man, her body wanted him, and that made her a little afraid because she knew that he did not return that feeling.
She brushed the thought from her mind as Hamish gave her a handful of coins and closed her fingers around them. “Get whatever you need,” he told her. “I am not an expert on these things, but I think they should be enough for two dresses.”
Amanda looked down at the handful of coin and smiled. “You are very kind,” she said. “Thank you.”
Hamish felt warmed by the gratitude in Amanda’s beautiful face as he handed over the coins. He had had to work hard to earn it, but it was worth it to see her smile at him with such warmth.
“I have business to take care of,” he told her. “I will come and fetch you when I finish. You cannot get lost if you stay around the market square, but please don’t wander away.” His face held an expression of concern.
Amanda nodded in acquiescence. “I will wait for you here after I find what I need,” she answered.
Hamish hesitated for a moment, finding himself suddenly reluctant to leave. He wanted to help her choose her dress and advise her on the colour that suited her best, but it was unlikely she would take his advice. The truth was that he simply did not wish to leave her.
Noticing his hesitation, Amanda asked mischievously, “Not afraid I’ll run away any more?” Her eyes were twinkling.
Hamish pretended to give her a deep, threatening frown. “I have a very good pack of hunting dogs,” he replied. “They will sniff you out in no time at all.”
Amanda laughed heartily, then Hamish waved, turned away and left.
Amanda hugged herself, suddenly realising that Hamish had left her alone with absolutely no guarantee that she would still be here when he came back. She had coin—not much, but enough to help her on her way.
He trusts me,she thought, and though she shouldn’t care, the notion filled her with an unexpected sense of warmth and joy.
Amanda began to walk down the street, embarrassed by her patched dress, which looked even worse than the worn garments of the other women. At least theirs, she noticed, were clean and in one piece, unlike hers, with its stains and ragged hem.
Still, Amanda thought, she was decently covered, even if she did not look exactly elegant. She paced along the rows of market stalls searching for something that was warm and functional, since she had no need for frilly and fashionable gowns. She had never experienced anything quite like it.
There was a butcher’s stall with great haunches of beef and pork, a pig’s head, rabbits, chickens, and other meat she could not name. She scurried past it, feeling squeamish.
Another stall was selling the kind of cakes, puddings, and sweets she had not eaten since she was a child; clootiedumplings, cranachan, and her favourite; tablet. The sweet confection was every child’s dream, and the aroma of spices and brown sugar made the stall smell like heaven on earth.
Amanda inhaled the delicious scent greedily, then moved on to a stall selling small carved wooden ornaments. There were models of every animal she could think of, all lovingly crafted, glossy and smooth with polish. They were just the kind of thing with which Amanda had decorated her own chamber, but she spent no time looking at them, since she only had enough gold to buy her clothing.
Every time she asked a question, though, she was met by frowns and monosyllabic replies delivered in tones of deep disdain and anger. Amanda wondered if she could somehow acquire a Highland accent and learn Gaelic, then perhaps she would fit in with the locals.
She noticed an old man looking at her who reminded her of the one in the carriage—the one Hamish had saved her from, and she shivered with loathing, but he wandered away, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Amanda needed no more encounters like that.
At last, she saw a stall with just the kind of garment she wanted. There were warm woollen dresses, shawls and hooded cloaks that were perfect for the freezing winter that Rose and Claire had told her to expect. She looked at her coins and worked out that she could afford two of the dresses, one of the cloaks and a shawl.
“That dress looks a wee bit big for ye,” the stallholder, a pretty young woman with fair hair and blue eyes, said doubtfully. “Try this wee one.”
She smiled at Amanda and held out another, slightly smaller dress.
Amanda was amazed and overjoyed to see a friendly face at last, and she returned the girl’s warm smile with a happy one ofher own. She held the dress up against herself, and the young woman looked at her critically.
“It looks a’ right,” she said, but ye will have tae try it on. Here.” She beckoned Amanda to stand behind her out of sight of the street.
Amanda quickly put on the dress, and it proved to be just the right size for her. It was dark brown, extremely plain and exactly what she needed. She decided to keep it on and offered the tattered, threadbare one she was wearing to the stallholder.
“Can you do anything with this?” she asked. “If not, please just throw it away.”
The young woman looked at the dress critically and said, “There are still some good bits o’ material there. My mother can dae some patchwork wi’ it.” She smiled. “Thank ye very much. Now, did ye say ye wanted another dress?”
Amanda counted her coins. “Yes,” she replied, pointing to another dark blue one. “That one will do. And a shawl and cloak, please.”
The garments were duly chosen, but when Amanda looked at her coin, she realised she would not have enough to buy a nightgown. The stallholder, seeing her predicament, asked her what the problem was.
