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Amelie awoke the following morning still reeling from emotions. Her sleep had been fitful, interspersed with reflections upon the kiss, as well as Bridget’s warnings. Still, she roused herself from bed and got dressed for breakfast, wanting to make a good impression on her family. Now that the feast was over and done with she felt a little more relaxed. She would not be considered the guest of honor any longer, and there would be no need to fear a birthday surprise from coming her way. She was also aware that Evan would be at breakfast, although she wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she saw him again. Part of her wished that she could see him away from her family, as she felt encumbered when she was around Pascal, Fleur, and the others. Because they all saw her as a wilting flower that needed to be protected. Granted, that was often how she acted, yet it wasn’t who she was, or at least who she wanted to be. She wanted to be more like the young woman she was when around Evan, the one who could let herself kiss a handsome man without suffering from a panic attack.

She took a deep breath to compose herself before she went downstairs, and prepared herself to speak with Bridget and Fleur again. She wanted to gauge the future. If she was always going to be this frail creature in their eyes, did she really want to stay with them? She felt horrible for thinking this about her own family, yet it was undeniable that she felt freer and more herself when she was in the nunnery. Perhaps in order to grow into the world they all had to be parted from each other. The same had been true for Fleur and Pascal after all, so why wouldn’t it be the same for her? Fleur had fallen in love with Lachlan when she had gone off by herself, leaving Pascal and Amelie in a cave. Pascal had been a knight errant when he met Bridget and fell into a rebellion. In order to discover herself, Amelie might have had to break away from her siblings. It was a painful thought, but sometimes growing up was the most painful thing to do.

Amelie descended the stairs and could hear chatter coming from the room. She was about to slide through the door—Amelie never strode through the middle of wide doors as she didn’t like making an entrance— when she saw Evan in the corner of the room with a maid. Amelie recognized her from the feast. She looked incensed and had a sour look on her face. Whatever she and Evan were talking about, it was a heated discussion and she looked quite enraged. Her eyes blazed with fury. Evan held his hands up and wore an innocent look. He shook his head sharply. This was most definitely an intimate disagreement because she had no compunction about putting her hands on Evan. She tugged at his arm when he looked to turn away, and placed her hands on her chest, imploring him to see sense. They were also standing close together as well, so close that their bodies were almost touching, just as close as she had been with him the previous day. Perhaps Bridget had been right to warn her about Evan, and Amelie had been wrong to let her heart soar with hope.

Was she just another girl to Evan? Someone else with whom he could pass the time? She didn’t want someone who was going to treat her as a hobby or as an option. She wanted someone honorable and true, someone who would respect the vows he made with his heart and with his kisses. From what she was seeing, the brutal truth was that Evan was not that man. She stared for a while, and although she could not hear the sharp words they shared, it was easy to understand their meaning when framed in the context of what Bridget had told her.

Evan rolled his eyes in a wide, exaggerated gesture and his head swung to the side. His gaze met Amelie, and she gasped, as though she had been spotted by a hunter. The moment Evan saw her, he turned to the maid and tried to distance himself. He stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. He looked agitated and kept glancing in Amelie’s direction, but the maid wasn’t letting him leave. Amelie felt as though she had seen enough now, and averted her gaze to walk towards the table with her family. She buried herself between Pascal and Fleur with the wall to her rear. Lachlan was sitting opposite her, and his broad frame helped to guard her from having to look at Evan again.

The table was laden with food, and it seemed as though the feast had never ended. There were bowls of fruit as well as cuts of meat and cheese. There were hot oats covered in honey and rolls of bread and jam. The air was alive with all the scents of breakfast. It was far more lavish than the simple meals she enjoyed in the nunnery, and she wanted to take advantage of it while she was still here. While the others spoke, Amelie’s hands darted out and collected various items of food from the bowls and dishes around. Soon enough she had a full plate and was eating happily, taking in the mood of the family around her. The slate rested on her lap, ready to be used if she wanted to interrupt, although usually in these moments she remained quiet, for it was easier to just listen.

“Ye definitely know how tae put on a feast, Pascal. I’m sure that ye will soon become renowned for yer hospitality,” Lachlan said. Pascal beamed at the praise.

“Thank ye, Lachlan. I hope we will become renowned in every area. I want this clan tae represent the best of the Highlands,” Pascal said proudly.

Lachlan chuckled. “I hope ye dae exactly that. It will serve tae needle those people who are against foreigners, nae that anyone should be able tae protest against ye any longer since ye are Laird.”

Pascal rolled his eyes and sighed, looking to the side. “Aye, but people always find some way tae be outraged about something. I bleed the same color as them, but even if I died defending this land against the French, I still think they would find a way tae judge my loyalty.”

“That says more about them than it daes about ye, lad,” Lachlan said in a serious tone. He reached across and put his hand on Pascal’s shoulder, reassuring him with a firm gesture. “But it seems as though that sentiment is dying down, and as long as ye keep holding feasts like this, naebody will hae anything tae complain about, naebody of note, anyway.”

Pascal pursed his lips and his eyes darted around in a conspiratorial gaze. “Ye say that, but there is still one enemy lurking out there, Munro.” He said this in a hushed whisper, almost as if speaking the name of the man was a curse that was going to summon him.

Lachlan didn’t seem to share the same suspicion. He cleared his throat and swiped his hand through the air. “He probably crawled intae some dark tavern in some dark town and got intae a fight. I doubt he is the type of man tae stay alive without his Da protecting him. Ye dinnae hae anything tae worry about, Pascal. I’m sure that it’s all smooth sailing from here on out, just take care of yer family and yer clan, and the sun will keep shining on all of us.”

Lachlan smiled widely.

“Did I hear Munro’s name?” Bridget said, turning away from Fleur for a moment as she scowled.

“It’s naething tae worry about, Bridget,” Pascal reassured her.

“I still shudder when I think of him,” Bridget said and did indeed visibly shudder. Amelie smiled weakly, for she did not have anything to offer on this particular topic. The political movements of the Highlands were certainly not her expertise, and when the conversation turned to this area she felt like an outsider.

“It’s nae as if any of yer patrols hae seen him. He would be a fool tae come back here anyway after all his allies hae been dealt with. Believe me, ye dinnae hae tae worry about yer enemies because ye are among allies,” Lachlan said.

“It’s the first time I can ever say that,” Pascal said. He popped a few grapes into his mouth and the worry faded from his brow. At that moment, Amelie noticed that Evan was coming into view. He was heading directly for Pascal, but his gaze was locked on her. After what she had seen with the maid, she had no interest in hearing what he had to say, and certainly not in front of her family. There was still much thinking she had to do about the situation, and anything he said now was only going to make it worse. As soon as she noticed him, she pulled her slate out and began writing, turning towards Fleur and pretending that she was deep in conversation.

“Evan, can I help ye?” Pascal asked. Amelie resisted the urge to turn around and face him.

“Ah, I was hoping tae speak with…” Evan began, but then cleared his throat and sighed. “I just wanted tae ask ye if ye and Lachlan require any further demonstrations of the guards, or if I can get on with their usual training?”

“I think ye can get on with things. Tell the men they dinnae hae tae show themselves off tae anyone else. They can relax for a wee while, and tell them thank ye as well. There was nae danger at all during the feast. Ye did yer job well, yer Uncle would be proud.”

“Thank ye, Sir,” Evan pressed his arms against the sides of his body and then bowed before turning on his heels and marching away. Amelie knew the words must have meant the world to Evan, and Pascal likely didn’t know how gladly they had been received. At first, she felt a soft breath of adoration when thinking about how Evan had confided in her, but now that feeling was tainted with suspicion and doubt. She was left wondering if he had trusted other women with that, like the maid.

She finished writing what she intended to say to Fleur, and then held it out, nudging Fleur’s elbow. Fleur had been tending to the children, but she looked around and saw that Amelie had written something.

Would I get to choose my husband? Amelie wrote.

Fleur’s eyes lit up. A smile widened upon her face like a fluttering butterfly and she beamed as she looked at the slate. “Oh, Amelie, I’m sae happy that ye are thinking about this,” she began. “And of course, ye would get tae choose yer own husband. I would hardly make the decision for ye,” Amelie was relieved to hear this, although Fleur wasn’t finished. “But I would of course make some suggestions. I hae always hae a discerning eye about these things, and I hae been keeping ye in mind whenever I hae met an eligible gentleman. I hae often asked some subtle questions tae see if they are worthy of ye. I know ye would nae want a brash man or someone who boasts about his strength. Ye want someone quiet and studious, someone gentle. Dinnae ye worry, I will hae the matter well in hand. I can arrange for ye tae meet with some of them, and then we can gae from there. Now, I will say that ye should think about these men carefully because this decision is one ye are gaeing tae hae tae live with for the rest of ye life. Ye should nae just gae for the first man ye meet,” Fleur said, and Amelie wondered if she had been speaking with Bridget.

Amelie furrowed her brow for a moment and then wrote something else down.

But wasn’t Lachlan the first man you met?

Fleur’s eyes flickered and she had to catch her breath. She became flustered for a moment, but then collected herself. “It’s quite different, Amelie. I hae always tried tae protect ye from certain things in life, and ye know that ye are quite innocent compared tae Pascal and myself. I already knew certain things when I met Lachlan, but ye hae been away in a nunnery, sae ye hae tae be careful. But dinnae worry, I shall ensure that we find the right match for ye. I will be with ye every step of the way, making sure that ye choose the right man,” Fleur said.