I fastened my cloak and pocketed the glass bottle. “The danger has passed,” I said, feeling a strange bond with this woman I had so recently despised. Under different circumstances we may have even been friends. “A few days’ rest, and he shall be good as new.”
A shuddering breath shook Amelia’s thin frame, and I thought she would succumb to the violent relief written plain as day on her face. Somehow she managed to confine the emotions to a radiant smile, and I understood the height of her joy, having experienced the depth of her sorrow. “Thank you, Miss Kilbrid,” she said, in a thick voice.
A lump formed in my own throat. “I should be going. Send word if any of the symptoms return.” I knew they wouldn’t, but it sounded better all the same.
As I hoped, she rose and followed me downstairs in search of the maid, who was sent straight away for a hackney coach. We then continued into the kitchen, and what appeared to be the sole fire and heat source on this floor, to wait her return. Amelia took a seat at a worn wooden table near the hearth, gesturing for me to do the same. I sat in the opposite chair, a placid expression covering my face like a painted placard to better hide the slow grinding of my thoughts. Under Brigid’s laws, the goddess born were forbidden to ask for payment in exchange for our gifts, whereas tokens or gestures of gratitude were deemed acceptable so long as they were freely given. The distinction had always been clear—until this morning when I planned to skirt dangerously close to the edge to get something specific in return for saving Thomas’s life.
Amelia glanced longingly at the iron kettle set a few paces from the hearth. “I would offer you tea, but my one servant has just gone to fetch the hackney, and I’ve no idea how to make the stuff myself.”
I stared at her, surprised that someone could live nineteen years without ever acquiring the skill to boil a pot of water. “You had other things to learn,” I said, in an attempt to act the diplomat.
She shrugged impassively. “And yet, despite my birth and years of training, there are those who consider me one of the oddest princesses they have ever known.”
A small, rather abrupt laugh escaped me as my gaze moved from the haggard young woman to skim over the humble kitchen. “Perhaps there is some truth in their words.”
Amelia also laughed, though it was devoid of any real mirth. “Granted, I am probably unconventional by most standards, otherwise we would both be in our beds this morning instead of sitting here together.” Her eyes dropped to the table and her neatly folded hands. “When Thomas fell ill, I had him moved to this house so I could visit without notice. Most of my servants at the palace wouldn’t think twice about informing on me to the king, which is why I have only the one girl. She is a scullery maid by trade, and faithful to a fault. When this is done, I shall send her to France to be trained in one of the best houses as a ladies maid. Then she will at least have a chance at a proper future.”
Deftly done. Kindness and precaution wrapped into one.
I raised a skeptical brow, unable to conceal the full measure of my doubt. “And this girl won’t mind living in a foreign country so far from home?”
Amelia sighed and lifted her eyes back to mine. “She has no choice, Miss Kilbrid, as you must understand.”
“An interesting reward for so faithful a servant,” I said, wondering what the princess had in store for me. Could I expect to be sent packing against my will?
“Her faithfulness is commendable, but over the years I’ve learned to trust very few people. Lord Fitzalan is one, and my cousin, Lady Beatrice. She is the reason I have been able to spend so much time away from the palace without suspicion. For the past week, I have been staying at her home to keep her company through a sudden malaise. If you hadn’t noticed, it was her carriage that brought us here last night.”
I hadn’t, though the lady must be part fool to help Amelia sneak around in defiance of her parents’ wishes. “Only a true friend would put herself in so much danger on your behalf.” Nora popped into my mind, but I quickly pushed the image away.
Amelia nodded. “Beatrice is a treasure among women, and braver than any man I know other than Lord Fitzalan.”
This was the second time she had mentioned Henry’s name, and I planned to make good use of it. By her own admission, she trusted him and admired his bravery. Through her emotions, she had admitted much, much more. “Henry told me that you’ve been acquainted since childhood.” I said, gently approaching the subject.
A smile touched her mouth. “He is in my earliest memories. Even as a small child when I was forced to live apart from my parents, Henry was always there.”
“But you do not love him, at least not in the way you love Thomas.”
In an instant, Amelia’s expression turned hard as defiance sparked in her eyes. Or was it challenge? “I won’t deny it,” she said, the imperial tone rearing its haughty head. “Henry is as a brother to me.”