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“Well, clearly everything worked out well for them. He only told me they met at the nunnery. He dinnae say that she thought he was a thief. I shall hae tae talk to him about this,” he rubbed his hands with a look of relish in his eyes, but Amelie was horrified. She shook her head quickly. Evan wore a reassuring smile. “It’s all fine, I would nae make him feel bad. The truth is yer brother and I get on well. I like that he is nae stuffy like sae many other Lairds. He’s just normal, and he’s a good friend.”

He’s a good brother too.

Evan nodded, wearing a firm smile. “And ye are a good sister. He told me about how ye all helped each other tae survive. I know I complained about life in the clan, but at least I hae a roof over my head and frequent meals. I cannae imagine what it must hae been like for the three of ye.”

It was easier for me, Amelie thought, because she had Fleur and Pascal. They only had her, and she had been little more than a dead weight.

It was hard, was all she ended up writing, because she couldn’t think of how else to sum it up. There were so many emotions and memories and these were all too complicated to fit on a single piece of slate.

“I suppose that’s life all around, although it’s getting easier I think, at least that’s what I hae found. I used tae fear getting older, seeing the years slip past me in a breeze, but I am more confident than I used tae be. I hae a better sense of who I am.”

I do too. But sometimes I wish I could talk. Amelie’s hands trembled as she wrote that last sentence. It wasn’t something she had confessed to many people as she didn’t like anyone to think there was something wrong with her. She tried to be strong and brave and find value in herself even with her condition. She hated it when people thought less of her for it, or that there was something about her to be fixed. And yet she knew that life would have been easier if she could just speak properly. There were moments when she felt confident enough, like when she was back in the nunnery, but out here in this unfamiliar part of the world? Never…

“Sometimes people can talk tae much. I would nae let it play on yer mind, Amelie. I think ye get by just fine.”

You don’t have to be so kind. I know that it’s awkward like this.

He reached out and touched her arm gently. It was an innocuous touch, yet it sent a shiver of heat running up Amelie’s arm.

“It’s nae awkward at all. Anyone who thinks this way just lacks patience,” he said. Then he tilted his head towards her and she felt the weight of his penetrating gaze. She managed to look at him for a few moments, but then was forced to look away. Sister Cora had always warned her and the other girls about gazing at the sun directly for fear it would rob them of their sight. Amelie had the same feeling about Evan in that moment, that if she stared at him for too long something terrible would happen, or at least something that her fragile heart could not withstand. Even too much happiness, too much elation could be dangerous for a heart that was not sturdy enough to cope.

“Still, I hae tae admit that I would like tae hear ye voice again. It is as pretty as ye are. I’m sure it would fit in with the sounds of nature around us,” he continued.

Amelie’s cheeks flushed. He seemed to be mistaken for thinking that she was pretty. She listened to the noises that were present around them. The song of the birds was cheery and melodic, while the rustling of leaves as the breeze passed through the trees was comforting. Insects hovered near the pond’s surface as well, and occasionally Amelie could hear a delicate splash as these insects buzzed around. A part of her wanted to speak for him, but her fear belied this instinct. Her throat tightened and there wasn’t a chance for any sound to emerge.

“But it’s fine if ye cannae speak. I like being with ye anyway,” he then added. His hand slipped from her arm down to her hand, clasping it gently. His palm pressed flat against hers and his fingers curled around the width of her hand. She froze, not quite knowing how to react. It seemed so simple for him, so natural, and she wondered how many hands had he held. Not that it was too important, for what really mattered was that he was holding her hand in the present moment. But what was simple for him was complicated for her. Her heart trembled and she thought about wrestling her hand away, but she liked the sensation. She enjoyed the warmth that seeped from his hand to hers, as though someone was pouring warm water onto her hand. It was also delightful to feel the slight twitches and tremors of his hand, shuddering into her and becoming part of her. In a way it felt as though they were becoming one, their two separate bodies now joined in this intimate gesture, flesh to flesh. It was hardly as exhilarating as sharing a dance together, but for Amelie, it was one of the most intense experiences of her life. Usually, if men took her hand it was only to drag her here or there, never just to enjoy the moment.

She quietly regarded the size of his hand as well. It seemed to be twice the size of hers. The back of his hand was smooth. The hair only began at the top of his wrist. His fingers were long and thick, and she found herself wondering how her hand compared to a sword. Slowly, her fingers curled around his hand as well, making sure they were clasped tightly together. Each imperceptible moment was thunderous for Amelie though, almost worried that the world was going to break apart if she dared hope for something like this. And even though she knew she and Evan were far from anyone else, she was still a little scared that bullies were going to leap out of the shadows and mock her for daring to think someone like Evan would ever truly want to hold her hand.

It wasn’t just her words that were caught in her throat, but now her breath was as well. The fact that she knew she and Evan could never have a future together made that moment more precious to her. It might well be the only time that anyone displayed this kind of affection for her, so she wanted to enjoy it as much as she possibly could. They remained sitting there for a while, holding hands and gazing at the pond, watching the world unfold around them. How simple and joyous life would be if it could be like this all the time, if there were no other demands on her and no other people to make life miserable.

But there were, and there was still something amiss about this, for Evan had betrayed himself by calling her pretty. He must have been wrong.

She took her writing hand, which was not the hand he was holding, and scratched out a message.

I’m not pretty, she wrote.

Evan studied this message and wore a look of concern. He brought his free hand up and placed it under her chin, turning her head to face him, tilting it back a little. He then examined her as a painter would examine his art.

“Hmm, nae, I think ye definitely are,” he said, his beguiling smile capturing her heart. She tried to turn in order to write something else, but he wouldn’t let her turn her head away. Then he leaned in towards her slowly, his face becoming as big as the moon, and it wasn’t stopping at all. Amelie began to panic, wondering what was happening, wondering when he was going to prevent himself from crashing into her, but she was locked in as well and she could not turn away. There was something compelling about him that had enraptured her, and then his lips were pressed against hers in a gentle and tender kiss, but to Amelie, it may as well have been a wild embrace.