“Amelia!” Sebastian cursed roundly when she didn’t twitch.
The room was so cold he could see his breath fog out before him. Despite the gnawing pain in his side, he gritted his teeth and drew himself onto one elbow. Scowling across the room at the small bundle of rags curled up in front of the now cold hearth, he cursed fluidly. He was frozen even beneath the blankets. God knew how cold Amelia was.
She was lying upon the stone floor with little to protect her from the elements but the thin dress she wore and a threadbare blanket. What the hell did she think she was doing? Did she want to be ill? If he was not much mistaken, she had given him all but one of the blankets she owned.
“Amelia!” If she didn’t answer him this time, he would bloody well get out of bed and get her, he thought as he glared at her.
“Amelia. For God’s sake, woman!” His bellow echoed off the stone walls of the small, almost empty cottage. She still didn’t move.
Fear began to grow. Was she unwell? Had she fallen ill because she had continued to go out into the storm to collect wood while being exhausted and inadequately clothed?
Sebastian gritted his teeth and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Immediately, the cold night air swept over his warm flesh, snatching all remnants of warmth from his body with relentless fervour, until he began to shiver.
His eyes were locked on her as he lurched to his feet, dragging a thin blanket around him to protect his modesty, and Amelia’s blushes.
God, he was so weak. He had spent at least two days lying on his back in bed, and he had legs like a newborn foal. Shaking his head at his own decrepit state, Sebastian shuffled over to the hearth.
“Amelia, darling, wake up for me.” His knew his voice was almost pleading, but at that moment didn’t care. He needed her to wake up and confirm she was alright. Fear tightened in his gut, as he contemplated what he would do if she had become ill. She was too precious to lose.
Shocked by the depth of emotion that began to unfurl inside his chest, Sebastian edged towards her.
“Amelia. Darling, wake up.” His persistence was rewarded when Amelia suddenly jerked, and moaned softly in discomfort.
“Wake up for me, please?” Sebastian leant his hips against the table for support. He knew that if he gave in to the urge to drop to his knees before her, he probably wouldn’t have the strength to get back up again. But he hated to see her lying on the cold, hard floor. Curled up tight to protect herself and preserve what little heat she had. His heart ached at her sacrifice.
Amelia ached all over, and was so very tired she struggled to form any thoughts, let alone move. So why was she awake? She was contemplating getting her aching legs to uncurl when a rich, masculine voice, so very close, snapped her awake.
“If you don’t get up and off that floor this instant, I will drag you up.” His voice brooked no argument.
It had the desired effect upon Amelia, who suddenly jerked upright with a wince as her cold, stiff muscles protested. She was shocked to find him standing so close. Her cheeks flushed fiery red, as she took in his near naked state, poorly covered by the thin blanket wrapped haphazardly around his lean hips. It was the first time she had seen him upright.
From her lowly position on the floor, he was a huge tower of masculinity. The broad expanse of his well-muscled chest was tantalisingly close. Curling her fists into tight balls against the temptation, she turned her face away, twisting around to look towards the cold, empty grate beside her.
“You asked for it,” Sebastian warned, seconds before his large hands swept beneath her arms and she was swept to her feet.
“What are you doing?” she croaked with alarm, when she was unceremoniously dragged upwards.
Sebastian moaned softly. Instinctively, she knew his low groan wasn’t one of attraction. He began to sway and his hands tightened almost painfully on her ribs as he fought the wave of pain that engulfed him.
“Now look what you have done,” she grumbled, wedging her shoulder under his arm to stop him falling to the floor. She was struck again by the sheer size and strength of him. The corded muscles across his stomach rippled as he struggled to remain upright.
“Me?” Sebastian gasped, fighting the blackness that threatened to engulf him. “It was your fault,” he accused, with a dark scowl on his handsome face.
“My fault?” Amelia gasped. Her senses reeled as she craned her neck to look up at him. “What did I do?” She was about to remind him that she had been soundly asleep before he had rudely awoken her, only for him to beat her to it.
“You were asleep on the bloody floor again,” he grumbled. He shouldn’t be using coarse language in front of a lady, even an impoverished one. But the sight of her in such dire circumstance irked his temper. He had to fight to withhold the words he really wanted to use.
Amelia harrumphed, and shook her head. “I can’t sleep in the chair, I told you.” She scowled up at him, trying to ignore just how much his masculine presence disturbed her.
“It goes against everything I am, to see you lying upon the floor. You have my word of honour as a gentleman, that I pose no threat to you Amelia. Please, for my sanity, get some sleep on the bed.”
Sebastian’s fingers tingled with the urge to slide into the frothing mass of riotous curls that cascaded in silken glory past her shoulders. He ached to discover for himself if it really was as soft as it appeared, and shifted restlessly as his body immediately began to respond to her closeness. She didn’t seem to be too shocked at his lack of clothing, but nonetheless he had no intention of showing her just how attracted to her he really was. Not until she was ready.
Despite the physical reaction to being so close to her, Sebastian couldn’t resist the urge to touch her, and tenderly trailed a blunt fingertip down her alabaster cheek. The smudges under her eyes were darker than ever before. Faint lines around her mouth, and redness clouding her eyes, highlighted just how exhausted she really was.
“You cannot sleep on the floor Amelia,” Sebastian persisted softly, sensing her reluctance. “It is positively dangerous to your health. Trust me, I beg of you.” He motioned down his tempting length, now propped against the table. “Look, I barely made it over to the table. I promise that I pose you no threat.”
He mentally sent a prayer heavenwards for that small fib. In reality, he didn’t pose any threat to her physical wellbeing. Not really. If she was agreeable to everything he had planned for her; for them; then she would be very happy with her future arrangements.
As it was, in their current situation, she would probably not be agreeable to what he was about to suggest. Nonetheless the warrior within him refused to back down from a fight. The gentleman within him refused to allow her to return to the hearth.
“Come on.” He took hold of her cold fingers in his hand and tugged, refusing to let go when she would have pulled free. She had no choice but to follow in his wake, as he staggered back towards the bed.
Inwardly, she was relieved he had turned his back at last. He might not mind his half-naked state, but she was more than a little perturbed at the sight of his manly chest so blatantly displayed. It had taken all of her willpower not to blatantly stare at the ripples of smooth muscle running down his chest, to the….
Abruptly shaking her head, Amelia snapped out of her wayward thoughts when she found herself being drawn down to sit on the bed.
“I am not sleeping here,” she announced, confused by the conflicting need to run out of the door, and curl up beside him without question.
She might be impoverished. She might not have a protector or guardian, but she wasn’t a harlot who would sleep with any man who dropped on her doorstep.
She was about to inform Sebastian of that, only for him to sigh deeply and announce,
“You most certainly are. It is only just dawn, and there is at least another hour before you are usually up and about. Even if the weather does abate enough for you to go out and go out again and gather more wood, which by the sounds of the howling winds it won’t, there is more than enough time for you to get some sleep. In bed, where you will be nice and warm.” He could sense her argument, and mentally cursed her for her stubbornness. Sighing deeply, he tugged her down onto the bed, wincing as her bony elbow struck inadvertently his aching ribs.
“You get up, and I will damned well tie you down,” he threatened, lying back as far against the wall as possible.
“I need to go out and check on Sir Hubert today,” Amelia replied reluctantly, listening to the ferocious winds rattling the windows.
Sebastian froze. “Sir Hubert?” A dark scowl settled over his face as he waited.
“My boss.”
Sebastian looked down at her, not liking the strength of emotion that swept through him.
Amelia tipped her head backwards to peer up at him. “I’m his housekeeper.”
“Can’t he take care of himself for a while?” Sebastian asked with disgust.
Amelia shook her head. “He’s elderly and isn’t able to get around much. Although he has food, he will be struggling to manage by himself.”
Sebastian sighed deeply, wondering if he should go and see this Sir Hubert for himself, and assess just how old he was.
“Does he live far away?”
“Just through the trees,” Amelia replied, smothering a yawn.
“Go to sleep,” he ordered softly, trying hard to resist the urge to kiss the top of her head.
After several moments of silence, she began to squirm.
“For God’s sake, woman!” Sebastian half-shouted, holding Amelia’s hands still with a curse. “What the hell do you think I am going to do to you? I don’t even have the strength to walk across this tiny room in a straight line. Besides which, I don’t force reluctant virgins!”
His bold statement made her freeze with embarrassment. Relieved that she had at least subsided for now, he found himself a comfortable spot and tried to leave as much of the remainder of the tiny bed for Amelia to settle in. Which, if he was honest, wasn’t much.
Although she now lay still, he could sense her hesitation. “Get out of this bed before the hour is up, and I swear to God I will tie you to it.” His dire threat made her stare at him indecisively.
Did he mean it?
Amelia was wracked with indecision. She knew he posed no threat to her, yet still was loathe to allow him so close. If she did lie on the bed with him - just lie and nothing else, how could she sleep on the bed when he was gone?
Her eyes met and held his briefly, and she was struck by the warning glint in his eye. She had no doubt he would indeed tie her to the bed.
“I am perfectly fine on the floor,” she muttered, reluctantly settling down beside him. If she had to lie upon the bed, then she would keep her clothes on, thank you very much. She huffed silently, trying to ignore the warm bulk of masculinity beside her.
“You will be ill if you lie on that floor any more. Unless I am very mistaken, you have given me all but the thinnest of your blankets.” Sebastian’s tone was purposefully brusque. Inwardly, he was relieved at his small measure of success and wondered how she would take his next move.
Amelia knew she would not get a wink of sleep. Not with him being so close, and the vision of his naked body so vivid in her mind. Careful to keep her back straight and her body away from his, Amelia reluctantly did as she was instructed and settled down on the wonderfully soft bedding.
She had really missed this bed, she mused, issuing a squeak of surprise when she was suddenly encased in warm blankets and strong arms.
“Erm…...” Her instinctive protest was weakened considerably by the sudden heat that swept over her cold flesh.
“Go to sleep, Amelia.”
She shivered as his soft voice floated across her ear, so tantalizingly close. Minutes ticked by as she lay frozen in his arms, until gradually the warmth and the comfort of his embrace began to work its magic, and she relaxed against him.
“Thank you,” she murmured eventually, with a yawn. She wanted to be angry with him, she really did. Not only had he embarrassed her with his blatant nakedness, but he had practically forced her to sleep with him.
Her conscience pricked her for being so harsh. He hadn’t actually forced her per se, as she wasn’t physically sleeping with him as in, well-. She quickly closed that thought off. All he had done was improve her comfort and warmth. He had done nothing more than she had been doing for him over the past few days. Should she really be angry at him for that?
“You’re welcome,” Sebastian replied, from somewhere behind her.
Within moments, she was fast asleep.
In the silence of the early dawn, Sebastian contemplated her current situation. Her hand lay limply upon the coarse blankets. It wasn’t the hand of a pampered lady. It was the work-roughened hand of a servant. He didn’t need to feel it to know it was liberally sprinkled with a myriad of calluses.
He glanced around the tiny space she called home with something akin to disdain. Given the sparse surroundings she called home, she was an impoverished servant. Sebastian wondered who the hell this Sir Hubert was, to feel he could justify paying her so little in wages that she could barely feed herself.
The tiny cottage she called home was barely habitable. It was no more than five or six paces across and barely had room for the table before the hearth, let alone the bed and rickety dresser on the opposite side of the small abode. The stone floor was rough and uneven. Unless he was much mistaken, the randomly placed pots on the floor captured the rain that made its way through the leaking roof.
As he lay contemplating the intriguing bundle of femininity in his arms, he suddenly realised that he could only see one bowl and spoon sitting on the table. The rickety old dresser leaning against the wall beside the hearth held very little other than a potato, one carrot, a chunk of stale bread and a small piece of cheese. Meagre repast, even for someone of Amelia’s size. How had she fed both of them with so little food?
Frowning, he studied the clearly visible veins and bones on the back of her bony hand, and slowly traced them with his finger. With money being so sparse, he had little doubt she was going without in order to feed him. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her eat.
His heart twisted with bittersweet regret and growing guilt. His only redemption was the knowledge that he at least had the power to put matters right. His heart ached for her dire predicament, as he considered the abundance of food regularly put on the table at Tingdale House, his own home. Luxuries he had never considered important.
Copious amounts of meat, vegetables, cheese and bread just appeared when he commanded, how he commanded and were abruptly taken away again when he was finished. His mouth began to water with the memory of Cook’s famous apple pie, and his stomach rumbled in hungry protest at being deprived.
As sleep began to claim him, he considered the various goodies he would tempt Amelia with once she was safely ensconced at Tingdale. Without thought, his arm slid around her narrow waist, protectively snuggling her limp body back against his chest.
With a deep sigh of contentment, he spooned around her, groaning low in his throat when she wriggled back against his groin. He took a moment to tenderly place a lingering kiss on her temple before relaxing into sleep, content with the knowledge that she was, for now at least, somewhere warm and safe.
Amelia awoke some considerable time later, reluctant to break the contentment that suffused her. Blinking sleepily, she yawned widely and frowned when her eyes landed on the cold fireplace. By rights she should be getting up, lighting the fire and heading out to her day’s work at Sir Hubert’s. It felt decidedly decadent to lie there and do nothing, safely ensconced in Sebastian’s strong arms.
Until he arrived in her life, appearing out of nowhere like a gift from the gods, she had never realized just how lonely and dissatisfied she had become with her life, and how much she was missing out on.
She had been incredibly lucky to have met Sir Hubert and was extremely grateful to have been given the position as housekeeper, but she missed the companionship of someone to share her day with.
It suited her to be living well away from society, but if she was completely honest she wanted someone at home to talk to. When things were rough; or when she was feeling tired, it would be sheer heaven to be able to sit in front of the fireplace with someone, and share her day.
Sebastian was recovering steadily. It wouldn’t be too many more days before he was chafing to return home and bring his attackers to justice. A pang of loneliness stole through her at the thought.
With a shiver of dread, Amelia slowly eased out of the bed, careful not to wake him. Quietly she lit the fire and turned toward the dresser. With having Sebastian to feed, there was now barely enough to provide a meal. Not only did she have to go the village and purchase some food to get them through the next few days, she would have to throw herself on the mercy of Sir Hubert and apologise for her absence over the last few days, without revealing Sebastian’s presence in her cottage.
Eschewing breakfast, Amelia carefully laid out the last of the bread and cheese on her plate, wishing she had some ham or pie to add to the meagre repast. Reluctantly she added the two remaining apples with a sigh, hoping he would eat slowly.
Carefully tugging on her cloak and boots, she collected her small pouch of coins from under the bed and quietly left the cottage.
Until now he hadn’t contemplated just how much solitude Amelia actually lived in, and wondered how she bore it! He was going quietly mad.
Having woken several hours earlier, it soon became apparent that she would not be returning any time soon. She had selflessly left him the remaining food should he get hungry, but it had tasted like ashes in his mouth. The knowledge that Amelia needed it, but had starved herself to feed him, stripped him of his appetite.
Briefly he considered pulling his boots on and finding this Sir Hubert himself, to castigate the man on his poor treatment of his loyal housekeeper. Eyeing his boots, he reluctantly accepted the fact that, even if he did have the strength to wrestle them on, he wouldn’t be able to bend down enough to tug them up without causing his ribs more injury. He couldn’t afford any setback. Not now, when he was so close to recovering enough to make the arduous journey home. The quicker he got Amelia out of this hovel, and into the warmth and luxury of Tingdale House, the better.
Instead, he paced and fumed while waiting helplessly for Amelia to return.
By the time dusk had surrendered to the onslaught of nightfall, Sebastian was tearing his hair out. He was so angry with her, he could throw something.
Where the hell was she? Was she alright? Had Ballantyne gotten her? Had she fallen ill? Been robbed?
He tried to calm his frayed nerves, but as time passed he became increasingly frantic. He tried to reason out various scenarios to explain why she was so late. She was after all, a servant. If she had gone to Sir Hubert, she would be working late into the evening. She may not be back until midnight. The thought made him scowl fiercely.
He was, by nature, a man of action. Unlike most members of the aristocracy, he didn’t leave the running of his estates to his man of business. Through his hands-on approach, and sound judgement, all of his estates were prospering and, over the course of time, had made him a considerably wealthy man. He grimaced ruefully at that thought.
Despite all of his wealth, he was now living in abject poverty, eating apples, stale bread and cheese, while the woman who had saved his life toiled from dawn to dusk to make enough pennies to survive.
Life could truly be harsh to those not as lucky as he, Sebastian mused, his thoughts turning to Amelia once again.
He was still stewing over his own helplessness, and the unfairness of the circumstances in which Amelia lived, when the latch on the door finally rattled and Amelia entered.
A muscle ticked in his firm jaw as he watched her stagger through the door carrying two fully laden baskets.
His anger was briefly set aside while he quickly jumped up from the chair and relieved her of her burden. He didn’t know whether to rant at her for not waking him before she left, or fall to his knees and thank God that she was, at last, back safe and sound.
Carefully placing the heavy baskets on the worn table, he took a few moments to gather his wayward emotions.
Why had she gotten such a hold on his affection so quickly? He knew it wasn’t just gratitude for her sacrifices, and saving his life, that was the attraction. He watched as she disappeared back outside and returned moments later with another basket and a further parcel, before kicking the door closed with a thud.
“Where the hell have you been?” He tried not to shout, he really did. He almost succeeded. Almost. He wished he had kept the words back when he took a careful look at her appearance.
Despite being outside in the ferocious winds, her cheeks were still pale and untouched by the buffeting of the cold air. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes and a droop to her shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Clearly she was exhausted, and hadn’t slept as well in the bed as he’d hoped.
All of his anger, fear and concern evaporated in an instant and he dragged her unresisting form tight against his chest. Laying his head against the top of hers, he closed his eyes in relief, and savoured the reassuring feel of her delicate body in his arms as she relaxed against him.
Amelia found herself standing just inside the doorway, a basket in one hand and a parcel in the other, wrapped securely in Sebastian’s warm embrace. She couldn’t have moved if her life had depended upon it. Leaning wearily against him for several moments, she savoured the wonderful feeling of being cared for.
After several moments, Sebastian eased away from her and relieved her of her burden, before drawing her over to the fireplace and seating her as though she were a lady about to dine in splendour.
“I need to empty the baskets,” Amelia murmured, making no attempt to move. Her feet ached; her hands ached; and she had a raging headache, but wouldn’t have changed the welcome she had just received for all of the two pennies left in her pouch.
“You rest, I’ll do it,” Sebastian ordered softly, and began to unpack.
Under Amelia’s direction he carefully placed their mound of provisions in their rightful places, and put the wrapped bundle of clothing in her mending basket.
“So, today you have been from here to the village to purchase provisions, then on to Sir Hubert’s to work, before collecting more mending and finally returning home.” He didn’t need her acknowledgement, and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t correct his assumption.
Sebastian felt his temper rise again, but given how tired she looked couldn’t chastise her. She was only doing what she had to. He wisely remained quiet, and instead set about preparing her a plate of food. He was wealthy enough to ensure she would never have to spend her days trudging around the countryside, or working from dawn to dusk, ever again.
He eyed the small mound of food, and carefully assessed the number of days it would last. With any luck they would just have enough before they left for home.
Amelia didn’t bother nodding, and watched as he placed the now empty baskets by the door. Although he didn’t say anything else, she could tell from the rigid set of his shoulders and the dark scowl on his face that something had angered him considerably. A quick glance around the cottage showed nothing untoward, so what could possibly have happened?
“Has anyone been by today?” Amelia murmured, eying the pie and cheese Sebastian placed before her. She had briefly had time for some broth in Sir Hubert’s kitchens, but that had been hours ago. She hadn’t realised just how hungry she was until her nose was assailed with the delicious smell of the pie. Without hesitation, she began to eat.
“I haven’t seen or heard anyone all day. It has been as quiet as a graveyard. I don’t know how you bear it.”
Amelia smiled sympathetically. “I don’t really spend any time here during the daytime. I am at Sir Hubert’s all day.”
“Do you work from dawn to dusk every day?” Sebastian wondered why she didn’t get at least an afternoon off, but wasn’t surprised when she slowly shook her head.
“Sir Hubert is frail, and cannot fend for himself for too long. I don’t mind really. As you quite rightly point out, it is as quiet as the grave here - almost too quiet at times.”
She smiled when Sebastian nodded emphatically in agreement, and felt a pang of bittersweet yearning for something indefinable. Putting her plate upon the table, she took a drink and sat back down.
“I did learn something in the village that might be of use to you.” Her gaze met and held his across the dimness of the room. “I was chatting with Mrs Ellsworthy; a very nice elderly lady but a veritable gossip. Nothing happens in or around Glendowie without Mrs Ellsworthy hearing about it. Anyway, when I asked her if anything had happened lately, she told me there had been a carriage accident on the main road going out of the village last week. On the night I found you.”
Sensing Sebastian was about to interrupt, she held up a hand and continued. “There was only one man aboard. Mrs Ellsworthy couldn’t tell me much about the man, size or anything, just that there was definitely only one man aboard and he had died of a broken neck. His body is being held in the makeshift mortuary in the church crypt for the time being. Until the road to town becomes passable and they can summon the magistrate.”
“Damn,” Sebastian murmured with a frown.
“Why ‘damn’? Surely that is good news?” Amelia frowned, and watched Sebastian pace awkwardly around the room.
A small pang of disquiet settled about her as she watched him. She briefly wondered if she was going to cry. He had been with her for nearly a week now and already his movements were easier and more natural. His colour was back, and his now purple bruises had diminished considerably. It wouldn’t be long before he was well enough to return home to his family.
“It’s ‘damn’, because we need to identify whether it is Danvers or Rat in that crypt,” Sebastian murmured. “It is great news if it is Rat. I think Danvers may already have been dead when the horses were running. If it is Danvers in the crypt, then Rat is alive and well, and most probably already on his way back to report to Ballantyne.”
“He won’t know you have survived though. At least you have that element of surprise on your side, when you return home,” Amelia reasoned, eyeing his long-legged stride as he stormed from one side of the cottage to the other, turned and stomped back again. Clearly the inactivity of the day and the solitude had got to him.
“I know, but it also means Rat may be out there and close by. If he survived the carriage crash, he may have returned to check I was dead as soon as the weather improved. He would know roughly where I left the carriage, and would have to come back to look for my body.”
“Which wasn’t there?” Amelia concluded with a shudder.
Sebastian looked at her, clearly impressed that despite her exhaustion, she was quick thinking enough to be able to reason events out so rationally. She was also practical enough not to get all squeamish about the possible threat right on her doorstep.
“He will also see the cottage. The only cottage for several miles,” Sebastian added starkly. He didn’t want to scare her, but he didn’t want another day sitting twiddling his thumbs by himself again.
Amelia felt herself go cold, and sternly lectured herself not to be such a ninny. She had trampled about in the countryside all day, and had not seen anything untoward. No strangers. No strange carriages or people. Nothing.
“I didn’t see anything today, Sebastian. There was nobody new in the village. I asked Mrs Ellsworthy if there were any survivors of the carriage accident in the Tavern. She reported that the Tavern was completely empty of guests on account of the road being too muddy for carriages to get through.”
“Which points to the fact that if nobody can get into the village-.” Sebastian was unaware he had actually said the words aloud until Amelia finished his thought.
“Then nobody can get out either. This means that if Rat survived, he is most probably still in the village somewhere.” Amelia took a deep breath and felt a wave of weariness sweep through her. Stifling a yawn, she was trying to assemble the jumble of her thoughts, when Sebastian appeared in her line of vision.
“Bed for you, my lady,” he murmured softly cupping her cheek. “You look so tired.”
Amelia sat enraptured as the soft pad of his thumb swept tenderly across the dark smudges under her eyes.
“I was so worried about you,” he whispered tenderly, eyeing the soft curve of her rose petal lips. Longing built steadily in his chest and, although he didn’t want to spook her, he had to have some reward for spending his day worrying for her safety.
Amelia sat perfectly still and watched his head dip toward hers. She felt the feather-light brush of his firm lips against hers with a mixture of yearning and regret.
It was everything she had dreamt it would be, she mused, stunned by the silken brush of his lips against hers.
Sebastian longed to capture her lips and deepen the kiss. To take what he really wanted, and she so innocently offered, but knew that if he had a prayer of getting her to sleep in the bed with him again, he had to restrain himself.
Instinctively, he knew she was holding back from him. Still didn’t trust him. Although the knowledge frustrated him, he couldn’t blame her for being wary. They still had a lot to learn about each other, and circumstances of late had been rather strange for both of them.
After several long moments of tender exploration, he smiled gently at her and drew away.
“I think you have done more than enough for today. It is time to get some sleep, Amelia,” he ordered, trying hard to be as non-threatening as possible, as he added more logs to the fire before taking her hand and leading her over to the bed.
With any other woman he would not have passed up the opportunity to bed her, and would have seduced the dress off her back within minutes of her appearing at the cottage door. With Amelia, he simply couldn’t. She deserved more than a quick tumble.
Their first time together was going to be at his home, in a nice warm bed. A nice soft bed, with plenty of thick blankets. In a warm bedroom, in a house where they wouldn’t have to get up and worry about food, heating or work.
Ruefully shaking his head, Sebastian tried to be as casual and non-sexual as possible as he lay down, adopting the same position they had slept in the night before. He sighed with relief when, without question, Amelia settled down beside him. This time, he didn’t wait for her to go to sleep before he tugged her close. As soon as she lay down, his arm slid around her waist and he tugged her back against his chest with one arm as he wrapped them in the layers of blankets before settling down himself.
“Goodnight, Amelia,” he whispered, unsurprised when his only response was a soft snore.