Lake Champlain, The United States of America, close to the Canadian Border March 1814

“Amelia, we are nearly there. From here on out, we must be careful and keep an eye out for the Redcoats or their colonial militia,” said Jake, staring ahead with a serious expression etched onto his features.

Amelia, who had decided on riding herself as of late, turned to look at her friend’s loyal and strong betrothed. She liked Jake a great deal. If things were different, she lamented; he could be a friend to me too.

Now, Jake probably despises me for taking away his love. I must stop this whining; ever since leaving Jonathan behind, I have turned into a shadow of myself – this cannot go on. I owe it to myself and to Anna to stay strong and leave honorably with the consequences of my actions, no matter how unbearable that may be.

“Jake, might we make camp here for the night?” asked Amelia, regaining her poise with great difficulty.

“But it is only a couple of hours past noon. If we push on, we could make it into Canada and a British outpost; it would be safer than them catching a group of Americans out here – we could be taken for spies,” protested Jake.

“I realize that. But there is no rush; not for me at least.” She smiled at the burly man with the scars on his face. “It would give you more time with Anna and I would have a chance to take in this beautiful scenery.”

Jake huffed. He had been sold at the mere mention of more time with his beloved Anna. “All right, Amelia.” He issued orders to the slaves to commence with the preparation of the camp. He moved closer to Amelia before she could dismount. “Ye will send her back to me, eh?”

“Of course, I will, Jake. Anna will help me for some time and then she will be free of her obligations to me; I promise.”

Jake appeared content with that. He made to dismount. A feral grunt escaped his mouth. “Amelia, ye are making a big mistake, I hope ye know that.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He dismounted, marched off and continued issuing orders to the men.

Amelia remained on the back of her horse. Tears threatened to seep out of her eyes and bring on the waterfall of sadness that she had become so accustomed to. She could not remember having cried so much in her life. She pressed her lips together forcefully. I will not remain a blubbering wreck. Pull yourself together. You made your bed; now lie in it.

Her gaze fell on the shimmering, watery expanse of Lake Champlain that sparkled occasionally when the winter sun kissed the surface. It was magnificent. However, the watery vastness to which Amelia directed her gaze was not blue or maybe even greenish blue, but white with dots of black where the rocks showed their heads above the snow and ice.

There was a large island aptly called Grand Isle in the center of the freshwater lake and some smaller ones to the north of it. Everything was so vast and infinite that Amelia had a hard time imagining that the land would end in some place, heralding the beginning of the Atlantic Ocean.

“Someone approaches,” yelled Jake.

Amelia snapped her head in the direction of his voice. All around her, the slaves dispersed, positioning themselves behind rocks, trees and any other cover available to them. She was frightened but hopeful at the same time. She was certain that no British soldier would venture so far into American territory alone. Maybe, he is an outrider and his fellows follow in hot pursuit? Once blossoming anticipation turned into a shimmer of apprehension.

“Amelia, dismount lest the stranger sees ye,” ordered Jake who was already strategically placed by the carriage where Anna was hidden.

Amelia heeded his order without protest. She hastily dismounted, gathered her skirts and ran to the carriage and her friend.

“Who do ye think it is?” asked Anna once Amelia was ensconced beside her.

“I don’t know but we will soon find out.”

And just as Amelia’s words slipped past her lips, the man on horseback appeared over the crest of the nearby hill. He was big of stature and handled his black horse as if he formed a part of it. The amalgamation of rider and steed was so fluid that it could be mistaken for a centaur if such creatures existed.

He carried a musket held by a strap to his back. Another such weapon jolted angrily in a sheath by the flank of the horse. His sword jingled with the movement of his mount. On his head, he wore a black top hat that was the same obsidian black as his horse. A tightly buttoned black topcoat, neckerchief and grey trousers that vanished into his black riding boots graced his person – he was a gentleman of substance that was for certain.

“Jonathan,” cried Jake, getting to his feet.

Amelia felt a rush of excitement course through her at the mention of that so cherished a name. It came to her in a series of heady flushes. Her heart beat faster, her breathing became more irate, and her foot tapped on the wooden floorboards of the vehicle uncontrollably.

“I knew he would come; come along, Amelia, we must greet him,” said Anna with a trace of excitement in her voice.

Amelia stopped her before she could open the carriage door. Anna frowned when she saw the confused expression on her friend’s face.

“Ye know why he is here, don’t ye?

Amelia nodded. “I think so…I just can’t believe he came.”

“So much for that Shakespeare fellow ye told me about or maybe…he was right after all. It’s all the same with these things; ye can see them as ye like. I wager that is the beauty of writing and performing,” said Anna. In the meantime, she had been well versed by Amelia in the intricacies of Shakespearean verse.

“I think you are right, Anna,” said Amelia, giving the vivacious Scotswoman a hug. “Out into the fray, Anna,” she said, breaking away.

By the time they stepped out of the conveyance, Jonathan had dismounted and was talking with Jake. Amelia, tentatively at first, walked over to where they stood.

Seeing him again after the way they had parted brought along mixed emotions. She was apprehensive as to what he might say to her. Would he be distant and cold? Was he here because he had some important news concerning their voyage and needed to tell them before something untoward happened? Or was it as Amelia hoped? Jonathan Mitchell had ridden all of this way to tell her that he loved her.

“Dearest Anna, it is grand to see you again,” said Jonathan, stepping away from Jake to take the young lady, who had reached him first, into his strong embrace.

Amelia felt a pang of jealousy boil in her veins. It was where she most wanted to be – in his arms, inhaling his sweet scent that she remembered so acutely from their kiss. Twiddling with her fingers, she waited for Jonathan to release Anna. She felt as if he had deliberately greeted her friend first to slight her.

“Amelia…I have come,” said Jonathan, stepping away from Anna. He shook his head ruefully. What he had said had sounded quite lame. He could do better than that. Seeing his sweet Amelia again had robbed him of his wits in just the way she always did. The forceful captain of a frigate felt naked in the face of her feminine charms.

“Amelia, the way we parted was not how I wanted it to be. I have come to apologize if I have caused you any offence. It never was my intention to drive you away. I felt drawn to you that night on the way back from Richmond…”

“And now?” Amelia bit her lower lip. She no longer felt the cold. It was as if an inner heat had claimed her like a hot volcanic pool. The wait for his answer felt as if a thousand winters had gradually turned into springtime, again and again until nothing was left to do.

Jonathan smiled crookedly. “Nothing has changed, Dearest. I still feel the same. These past days have shown me that. No matter how far away from me you were, the burning desire to be with you never subsided.”

Amelia smiled when she heard him call her dearest again. It reminded her of that night at the hotel when she was but his imaginary fiancé for one evening. “I know…I have suffered for my mistreatment of you, dear Jonathan. I sought out forgiveness, but it eluded me. I…”

He stepped forward, narrowing the space that separated them – two paces remained, and they would be in each other’s arms. “There is nothing to forgive. I came at you without warning. How else were you supposed to react?”

“Like this,” said Amelia. She no longer cared about the repercussions. She did not care that Anna and Jake and all of the slaves stood nearby.

Before Jonathan realized what was afoot, he felt the simmering warmth of her lips pressed against his. She was cautious, careful even, but her desire was apparent in the way she attempted to lure him in.

Soon, her timidity, if it could be called that, disintegrated into hunger, as she, like him in the carriage, parted his lips with hers. Amelia was once more how he remembered her: forceful, full of will and desires, and the mistress of her destiny.

Jonathan reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her and dipping her body lower a notch. He needed to claim this woman, this witch turned fairy and make her his. At that moment, they were all and everything. The sound of the crunching feet of the people around them as they dispersed to give them some privacy was but a mere happening, a trifle that bore no more meaning other than that it took place.

The warmth of their mouths, the feel of their arms and bodies encircling and touching and the power of their union at last confirmed was all that mattered to both of them. The abject pain to which they had subjected themselves because of him not fully claiming her and because of her venting stubbornness and misplaced ladylike grace expelled from their bodies like steam from a searing rock.

All there was, was two people in love – not ashamed, no longer the prisoners of different lands and patriotic beliefs, no more doubt and above all the heavy chains of mislaid pride; all of it was gone. Those things were no longer important for a kiss shared in truth and for all to see, is the beginning of that which man and woman so cherish – being in love and loving that special person no matter what.

“You will stay with me as my wife,” breathed Jonathan into her mouth as he slowly and reluctantly broke away from the contact. He slid his arms from around her body to take her hands in his.

“Was that a proposal, Jonathan Mitchell?” Amelia’s eyes twinkled in the spirit of a woman who had heard exactly what she wanted to hear.

“That it was, dearest.” Jonathan lowered his heavy frame until he came to a rest on one knee. “Amelia Carlyle, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife. You are my woman and I your man…I knew that from the first day I saw you on board the HMS Capricorn.”

“Now, that cannot be true. If I remember correctly I was absolutely obnoxious to you.”

“That was what I loved about you. Does that not bode well if I can love you when you treat me so?”

Amelia laughed. “I will endeavor not to do so again.”

“Can I take that as a yes to my proposal?”

“Oh, my Jonathan. Of course, it is a yes. I can imagine nothing more wonderful than to be Mrs. Jonathan Mitchell or maybe even Mrs. Jonathan Mackinnon of Mitchell.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Trust you to bring that up. But let’s stick with Mitchell. Such long names offer too much room for confusion.”

“I can live with that,” said Amelia, her cheeks gushing redness as her body vented its pleasure at what was transpiring. “Oh, my Jonathan.”

He smiled as he removed her glove and slid a ring onto her finger. The golden band with a bed of white diamonds sparkled back at her. “It was my mother’s before she passed it to Mammy for safekeeping,” he said with a trace of sadness in his voice. “She would have wanted my bride to have it in the same way my grandfather wanted his bride to have it. It is the ring of a lady of Scotland.”

“Jonathan, this means so much…I am so honored to wear it. I don’t know what to say.” Tears seeped down Amelia’s cheeks, and for once, unlike the days past, they were sourced from an infinite spring of joy. All traces of her onetime melancholy had vanished into thin air. Her man was there, and he wanted her to marry him – it was the best day in Amelia’s life.

“I could imagine no finer woman to wear it,” said Jonathan, standing up to his full height.

He bent lower to kiss his fiancé once more. This time, their kiss did not last as long. However, what it lacked in duration, it made up for in sheer emotion and meaning – it was their first kiss as man and wife to be.

“This does feel so much better than having to playact being betrothed,” said Jonathan, breaking away.

“Oh, it does…but that other thing was a lot of fun too. Not to mention how right it felt…oh, Jonathan, I am so sorry I pushed you away. I wanted you so badly that I didn’t know what it meant. I was so confused.” Amelia stared back at Jonathan with wide eyes, their moss-greenness, like emeralds, sparkling at him.

“Love follows many paths until it reaches its final destination. We just decided to make things difficult for one another. All that matters is that we are here, now, and together. I will love you always, Amelia…never once doubt that. No matter what might happen, I will never stop loving you.”

Again, the tears threatened to overwhelm. Amelia swallowed deeply. “It does me good to hear that, my sweet love. For, there is no other man from whom I would wish to hear that…I love you now and forever, Jonathan Mitchell.”

As if they had read the moment to perfection, the other people around the half-finished camp sprang into action. Anna was the first to reach out to Jake in hot pursuit.

“Amelia, ye finally have yer head screwed on in the right place. Now, had ye said no to this fine specimen of a man, I would have let ye go to England all by yerself.”

“You wouldn’t have,” protested Amelia, accepting her embrace eagerly.

“Oh, I would…there is nothing I can abide less than stupidity in the face of a love so perfect.”

“Well done, Jonathan. If I may say so, I am proud of ye. Ye came back with flying colors like the true captain of the Triton ye are,” said Jake, shaking Jonathan’s hand vigorously.

“We never lost a fight yet, eh? And I was not about to begin,” said Jonathan, beaming at his powerful friend.

After both Anna and Jake had congratulated Jonathan and Amelia to exhaustion, the slaves joined in the fray. A silent spectator, standing by the side, would never have construed that it was a master and his possessions. Such was the harmony and happiness surrounding the camp.

Love had been declared, a proposal accepted, and friends and others cheered on that one thing which transcends all – love.