Free Amethyst by Lauren Royal Page B

nothing to him.
    Her thoughts drifted to last night. How could she have asked him about himself and his past as though everything were normal, as though her father hadn't just died? And God in heaven, had she actually kissed him? Her face flamed at the memory. What kind of a daughter was she? She didn't deserve to enjoy anything , ever again.
    She opened her eyes to see Colin returning, her trunk balanced on one straining shoulder.
    "What the devil's in here?" He set it on the floorboards with a decided clunk .
    "Everything I own," she said in a broken whisper, her gaze riveted to the wooden slats, the leather straps, the brass fittings.
    Dear God, her father's life's work was in there.
    Colin pushed the trunk under the bench, making a hideous scraping noise. Suddenly her throat constricted and she seemed unable to breathe. The grief was bubbling up inside her. A weight settled in her stomach; a fist closed around her heart. Her eyes filled with hot, blinding tears.
    It was rising, threatening to overwhelm her, and this time she couldn't stop it.
    She stumbled up to the bench, but she couldn't sit upright, so she sank to the boards and covered her face with her hands. Then she let it rise up and out, the pain and the tears and the great, tearing sobs.
    Her breath came in hysterical gulps. Colin stroked her hair, but she shook off his hand, though she knew it might hurt his feelings. The children were silent; she could feel their pitying gazes. She didn't care. Her father was dead. She would never see him, never touch him, never hear his voice again.
    She was jostled when the wagon started moving, but the tears wouldn't stop. Wordlessly, Colin stuffed a handkerchief into her fist. Before long it was sopping wet and twisted in her hands.
    The world retreated until she was a mass of wretched pain. Her father was dead; her home was gone; she had no immediate family, no family at all except one aunt in a foreign country.
    It was all Papa's fault. When he'd gone back inside their burning house, he'd robbed her of both her father and her life.
    Damn him , she thought. Damn him to hell!
    Bolting upright, she gasped and covered her mouth as though she'd said the words out loud.
    She felt Colin's gaze, his compassion, but it didn't help at all. When he drew her hand away from her mouth and threaded her fingers through his, she levered herself up to the bench and leaned against him, closing her eyes. The tears leaked slowly, tracing new paths down her raw cheeks. Her head throbbed; her eyes burned, hot and swollen. But no physical pain could match the anguish in her heart.
    She'd damned her father to hell, and for one split second, she had really meant it.

CHAPTER NINE

    STANDING BESIDE THE wagon, one hand resting possessively on her trunk, Amy watched, dazed, as Lady Kendra led two children by the hand toward Cainewood's immense double oak doors.
    The raked gravel of the drive crunched beneath their feet. "I cannot believe you did this, Colin." Lady Kendra turned on the steps to count the young ones. "Nine children! You must have had your hands full."
    She paused on the threshold, eyeing Amy speculatively. "Though it looks as though you had help."
    Colin didn't respond, but Amy slipped him a guilty sidewise glance. She bit her lip, knowing she'd been less than helpful. She hadn't even been decent company. They'd been on the road for the better part of the day, and she'd strung no more than five words together the entire time.
    But she had no time to dwell on herself, not with Cainewood Castle before her in all its ancient glory.
    The living quarters formed a U around the quadrangle's groomed lawn. She looked up, and up. Four stories.
    "Ninety-eight rooms," Colin said beside her, as though he'd read her mind. "Most of them closed up. Jason has years of restoration ahead." He pointed out the marks of cannonballs in the high, crenelated wall. "Cromwell sacked the place twice."
    Beyond the smooth green grass of the quadrangle, a tall,