The following morning, Amelia awoke refreshed and feeling more comfortable after a good night’s sleep. The heavy pounding in her head had reduced to a dull thud and, as she dressed, she contemplated the horrible consequences had Sebastian not managed to save her from the flames at Edenvale Manor.
One thing was for certain. He had now saved Amelia’s life, and should feel no obligation to look after her. But where did that leave them?
She knew if she told him the truth about herself, he would go to her father and demand her hand in marriage, blithely ignoring her protests right up to their marriage bed. She had to know if he loved her before she accepted his hand in marriage. She couldn’t bear the thought of spending her life married to Sebastian knowing he cared for her, but didn’t love her.
She knew from her conversation in the carriage with Isobel, that the family were worried about her hurting Sebastian. Amelia couldn’t really blame them for wanting to protect one of their own. It would be wonderful if they considered her one of them, and cared for her in such a protective way. But in reality, Amelia knew it was looking less and less likely.
With an air of defeated worry, having ordered a tray of breakfast, she moved to sit at the writing table to pen a letter to Sir Hubert. She was just blotting the ink dry when there was a soft knock on the connecting door.
“Good morning.” Sebastian eyed Amelia’s pale complexion when she turned to look at him. Although the colour had partly returned to her alabaster cheeks, she was still dreadfully pale. The large dark bruise on her temple stood out in stark contrast to her complexion, reminding him of how close she had really been.
“How do you feel this morning?” He tried hard to remain casual. In reality the need to know the truth was gnawing at his innards until he wasn’t sure he could stand any more. Isobel’s suggestion of identity in the carriage yesterday had plagued him, robbing him of the sleep he so desperately needed.
As dawn had edged over the horizon, Sebastian had felt his frustration grow, along with his determination to get the truth from Amelia once and for all.
“I feel much restored, thank you,” Amelia murmured softly, eyeing Sebastian’s dark eyes with concern. “Did you not sleep well?” She frowned, as he hauled a chair from beside the window and set it down in front of her with a thud. As he sat, he leant forward to brace his elbows on his knees, studying her intently.
“We need to talk. Honestly.” Sebastian’s was cool as his gaze met and held hers.
Amelia felt her stomach drop and knew what he was asking.
“The night before last you nearly died, Amelia.” Sebastian paused and waited for her to absorb the words. “Tell me what I was supposed to put on your gravestone.”
“What do you mean?” Amelia whispered, clenching her hands into tiny balls to stop them shaking.
“Do we put: ‘Amelia – the saviour of Sebastian, and mystery of all?” Sebastian’s voice dripped sarcasm and fought the urge to shake her for her stubborn refusal to trust him.
Amelia blanched at the disgust clearly written on his face. “I am no threat to you, Sebastian. I promise I have never met Ballantyne or any of his associates. I never even met Hawksworth.”
“But you did see him at Eastleigh’s house?” Sebastian interrupted her. His tone said he would accept nothing less than the honest truth.
“Yes,” Amelia replied, her eyes meeting his defiantly.
“Were you a servant at Eastleigh’s house?” Sebastian was unsurprised when Amelia shook her head.
“No.” Amelia knew where this was headed and felt a sense of finality sweep through her. “What is with all of the questions, Sebastian? Why do you need to know everything about me anyway?” She raised a hand when he took a breath to reply, and took the opportunity to stand and move across the room, away from his distractingly masculine presence.
“You are living under my roof. I have a right to know exactly who you are,” Sebastian bit out, feeling his temper boil.
“But I am not here through choice, Sebastian. You were the one who brought me here regardless of what I wanted.” Amelia’s voice rose as her own frustration built.
“I was trying to protect you!” Sebastian shouted, pushing out of his chair.
“Protect me? Riding roughshod over what I want, and blithely ignoring my arguments until you get what you want, is protecting me?” Amelia’s chest heaved with anger
“Yes! When ignoring you keeps you safe then yes, it bloody well is,” Sebastian shouted. “What was I supposed to do, say oh, thanks for saving my life? Feeding me, nursing me, giving me the use of your body, but it’s time to go now?”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I managed perfectly well for three years before you came along. Why can you not understand that?”
“Oh yes, you were doing splendidly weren’t you?” Sebastian’s voice dripped scorn. “You were living on a rickety straw bed, in a cottage no bigger than my bath. With a roof that leaked. You were so comfortable; you were barely able to feed yourself. That’s a wonderful life, Amelia. I can understand why you are so desperate to return to it.”
Amelia froze and turned to him, her eyes full of hurt. “It was the best I could manage,” she whispered, with her chin tilted in proud defiance. “I know it is not up to your luxurious standards, but it was earned by me. By my hard work, and I was glad to be there. At least the decisions I made were my own. They may not seem much to you, my lord, but they mean a lot to me.” Amelia turned towards the window, not wanting him to see how deeply his words hurt her.
Sebastian was determined not to be distracted by her tears. If they had any hope of future happiness they had to get everything out in the open. He moved to stand behind her and turned her towards him.
“Tell me who you are,” he bit out. His hard fingers captured and held the delicate point of her chin, tilting her head upwards when she tried to keep her gaze lowered. “I command you tell me.”
The temptation to tell all was so strong, Amelia shuddered. It was the last command that gave her the resolve to hold firm against him. Tugging her chin out of his fingers, she tipped her head back. Despite the shimmering of tears in her eyes, her gaze hardened imperceptibly as she glared defiantly at him.
“You know who I am. I am Amelia, housekeeper to Sir Hubert from Glendowie. A humble servant at your service, my lord.”
“Then as lord of this house, I command you to tell me your real name.” He caught Amelia as she tried to move past him, shoving her against the wall. “Tell me!” he shouted, his breath ruffling the fine hairs at her temples.
Amelia tipped her head backwards until her gaze met and held his.
“If we are to have any future together you have to tell me,” Sebastian bit out. A small part of him warned him he was being too harsh on her, but he had to know.
“Tell me,” he growled, sliding a hand into her hair. As he tugged his hand back, several of the pins pinged to the floor at their feet. “Tell me,” he murmured, feeling his erection stir in his breeches.
God damn it, despite his anger and disgust with her, he wanted her with a passion that overwhelmed him. As they stood locked in a silent battle of wills, something deep within Sebastian was defiantly proud of Amelia’s inner strength and determination. Most women would have crumbled into a quivering, wailing heap. He was inordinately pleased that Amelia had the sheer fortitude not to be cowed by him, and instead felt able to tip her head back defiantly and give him everything back. Despite his anger with her, he was proud she was his. Servant. Lady. Whatever she was.
He had to have her.
“What do you want from me?” Sebastian bit out. “What is it going to take for you to confide in me?”
Amelia paused. Was he really asking? Her gaze locked with his for several moments as she considered him.
“I want you to promise me that you won’t do anything without checking with me first. Do not dictate to me, or make decisions on my future without including me. Ask for my opinion and don’t command me. I won’t ever be commanded by you, Sebastian,” Amelia gasped, trying to ignore the molten core of desire pooling low in her belly. “Promise me you won’t go haring off, taking matters into your own hands without discussing it with me first.”
Sebastian frowned slightly for several moments. “If I consider things need to happen in your best interests, I won’t hesitate to change things, Amelia,” he murmured, slowly lowering his head.
“Promise me you won’t casually dismiss my concerns, Sebastian,” Amelia persisted, easing back from the masculine intent in his eyes.
Sebastian paused in consideration. Just what was she asking of him? “Amelia.”
“Promise me, Sebastian,” Amelia commanded, shoving away from him when he moved to kiss her.
“When have I ever done anything that isn’t in your best interests, Amelia?” Sebastian caught her elbow and spun her around to face him. He felt he had been chasing her around the room since he entered it, and it was becoming very tiresome.
“You made love to me knowing that you could leave me with child,” Amelia began.
“I have made sure if you are with child, I am there for you. The babe and you will be cared for,” Sebastian countered.
“You kidnapped me from my home,” Amelia checked off another finger.
“To leave you could leave you to the brutality of Ballantyne. I have already been through this.”
“But you never bothered to discuss it with me. You just casually ignored my arguments and brought me here anyway.”
Sebastian heaved a put-upon sigh that grated on Amelia's nerves. She wasn’t some hysterical female that needed to be appeased. His actions only fuelled her temper. Stalking towards him, she poked a finger in his chest.
“I know you. As soon as you know who I am, you will go haring off, casually tossing aside what I want. What I consider best for me, and you will arrogantly expect me to thank you for it.” Amelia pushed at his shoulders as the stress and worry of the past few weeks broke free. “I am sick of men taking control of my life. Making decisions for me and not listening. Never listening.”
“Amelia,” Sebastian murmured, watching as temper stained her cheeks, her voice increasingly angry and resentful. Her small fists beat into his chest for several moments until he captured them tightly against his chest, pulling her flush against him. He should not have been turned on, but it had been some time since he had last had her, and the sensation of her slender form writhing against his, even in anger, was more than his deprived manhood could bear.
With a soft groan, Sebastian captured her lips in his, immediately encasing the room in silence as his tongue plundered her mouth.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when she wrenched her wrists out of his hands, but couldn’t withhold the groan that escaped him as she clasped his hair in her small hands and tugged his head down to hers. Acceding to her demands, he gave her everything she mutely demanded without question.
Amelia barely had time to draw breath before she found herself lying on the bed, her skirts raised to allow the cool air of the room to slide over her feminine heat briefly, before Sebastian’s warmth slid over the inner skin of her thighs. Somehow he had already loosened his breeches, and he took advantage of her momentary hesitation to slide deep into her slick moisture with a groan.
White hot sensation began to pool low in her belly, as Sebastian tugged the neckline of her dress downwards until her breasts were bared to his hungry gaze. She couldn’t suppress the gasp of delight that escaped her as his hot tongue immediately began to circle the dark aureole and suckle hard.
Unwilling to lie back and be commanded, Amelia wrapped her legs around his hips before lurching upwards, twisting around until their positions were reversed and Sebastian was lying on his back. Immediately her hips were held firmly by gentle hands that guided her hips, until she caught on to his demands and began to ride him.
Stunned by the change of positions, Sebastian stared up at the wanton goddess now riding him and felt a surge of possessive pride sweep through him. Her long tangled tresses tumbled in wild abandon over her shoulders. The tips of her hair teasing and tantalising the turgid nipples lay bare to his rapt gaze. With trembling hands he lifted her skirts and watched his rigid length disappear into her femininity. The sight of her delight at their new position was more than he could stand and he felt himself tighten in warning.
“Amelia, we have to slow down darling,” he groaned softly, feeling her feminine sheath begin to ripple around him.
In response she tossed her head back, and began to rock harder against him as her own completion claimed her. Moments later, with a soul deep groan, Sebastian found his own release.
Amelia awoke feeling a deep contentment she hadn’t experienced since leaving the cottage. She instinctively wriggled backwards in search of a more comfortable spot, when a masculine groan rumbled in her ear.
“Move again, darling, and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Following their lovemaking, exhaustion from the past couple of days had taken its toll on both of them and within moments they had fallen asleep. The light outside had already faded, warning Sebastian it was soon time to get ready for dinner.
Still, he was reluctant to move and instead savoured the feel of her lush femininity lying so temptingly beside him.
Reluctantly, he tried to withdraw his arms from around her. In particular the hand that was nestled warmly between her breasts, only for her to wriggle backwards. Her movement immediately closed the distance between them.
“Amelia, I believe we went to sleep, darling. It will soon be time for dinner,” Sebastian mumbled with a yawn.
“I’m sorry,” Amelia said, shuffling around until she lay facing him. “I must have been more tired than I realised.” She slid upwards until she was sitting against the pillows, the covers tugged up to cover her breasts as she placed a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving the bed.
Sebastian paused and turned to face her. He eyed the pensive frown on her face, and warily resumed his place beside her.
“You asked me to trust you,” Amelia replied hesitantly. She paused as she tried to gather her thoughts and decide on the best way to tell him.
“I am the Earl of Eastleigh’s daughter.”
Silence descended for several moments as Sebastian stared at her. He could sense her tension as she waited for his response.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” he muttered, thinking of Isobel’s note in the carriage yesterday. He almost asked her if she was sure. “I wasn’t aware the Earl of Eastleigh had a daughter,” he replied, easing around to sit facing her.
Amelia nodded slowly. “I am estranged from him. He-.” She took a deep breath and spoke the last in a rush. “He sent me away when my mother died, and wouldn’t communicate with me. I haven’t spoken to him for several years.”
Sebastian looked at her in consideration as she sat beside him. The covers gripped tightly in her small fists indicated how disturbed she was at confiding in him. Whatever had happened between her and her father, the hurt was clearly still raw and painful.
“I can vaguely recall something about Eastleigh making enquiries about someone a couple of years back. But I don’t know that much about him, or what it was about.” He scowled across the room as he searched his memory. “None of us frequent London as much as we used to, so I don’t know much of the latest gossip. Dominic visits London more often than any of us, so is the one who is likely to know more about him.”
“My father doesn’t care about me, Sebastian. I am sure if he was asking about somebody, it wasn’t me,” Amelia replied, wishing Sebastian would say something, or show some emotion. All that showed on his face was a slightly thoughtful frown. “He sent me to live with my aunts in Bath. I was essentially cast out by him.”
“What did you do?” Sebastian watched, as tears brimmed in her eyes as she stared blankly at the blankets. “I don’t want to cause you any distress, my darling,” he murmured, brushing the errant moisture from her eyelash before tenderly running a finger down her pale cheek. “Promise me you will tell me more when you are ready.” He smiled tenderly when she nodded.
“Thank you,” Amelia whispered softly, pleased he had understood. “It is quite a sordid story, and something I cannot recount very easily. It opens a lot of painful memories.”
All traces of passion gone, Sebastian eased her into his arms, giving her the comfort she needed without question.
Amelia was touched when he respected her plea and kept quiet. She knew he had numerous questions and was struggling with the news of her identity. A comfortable silence settled around them for several moments.
“It was my mother’s death that caused the change in my father. He became remote and angry. To the point he refused to speak with me, and sent me to my aunts. I begged him repeatedly not to send me away, but he ignored me and sent me anyway,” Amelia whispered morosely.
It explained so much to Sebastian about their recent conflict. Pieces of the jigsaw began to slot into place, and he suddenly began to see Amelia much more clearly. “That explains why you were so angry with me for dragging you home with me, despite your arguments.”
Amelia smiled ruefully. “It seems my life is plagued by domineering men.” Her smile widened at his abashed look. She wasn’t falling for it for a second.
“The difference is, my darling; this domineering man has your best interests at heart,” Sebastian murmured, eyeing the gentle curve of her lips.
“I know. It is just, sometimes, you can be so-.” Amelia searched for the right word that wouldn’t cause him offence. “Lordly.”
She whacked him on his shoulder when he began to laugh.
“Lordly?” He grinned widely.
“Yes. You expect everyone to do as you want, when you want, without question. Even me,” Amelia grumbled. Her sparkling eyes met his as she fought not to return his smile.
“You deny me, my darling,” Sebastian murmured softly. “You deny me the one thing I really want every second we are apart.”
“Sebastian,” she whispered, sensing the sensual tension rise between them with a shiver of feminine anticipation.
“If I command you, would you allow me to make love to you again?” Sebastian already knew the answer to that question.
“No. Not if you command me to,” Amelia replied pertly.
“There you go. You deny me. If I asked you to let me make love to you. As my equal, not my servant, mistress or whore, would you?” Sebastian was hard as a rock again, as his body waited with anticipation for her answer.
“Yes,” Amelia whispered, watching the surprise enter his eyes as he gazed at her. “As your equal I would deny you nothing.”
Sebastian leant over her intently. “Are you sure?” Hope and anticipation brightened his gaze as he stared down at her, his erection already throbbing in readiness.
“Yes, I’m sure. Make love to me, Sebastian,” Amelia murmured tugging his head down to hers. At the last moment before their lips met, Sebastian paused, his eyes holding hers steadily. “No regrets afterwards?”
“No regrets, Sebastian.” Amelia kissed his lips softly. “Make love with me.”
Later that evening, Amelia sat somewhat awkwardly at the dining table, certain that everyone knew Sebastian had spent the day in her room. Although they hadn’t said anything, she had been aware of the knowing looks that had passed between Peter and Edward when she took her seat at the table. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, certain that she had a sign around her neck proclaiming ‘harlot’. She looked toward Sebastian who, seemingly oblivious, gave her a wink of reassurance.
“Tonight we need to look at that Penny Dreadful more carefully and see if anyone can remember anything about the murder. I think it has some significance or else why would it be hidden in a book?” Sebastian announced to the assembled group, once the meal was finished. “Let’s retire to the library and we will decide what we need to do.”
With everyone’s agreement, within moments they were ensconced in the library. Tea was served to the ladies and brandy to the men, as they opened the Penny Dreadful and placed it on a low table in the middle of the room.
“It looks so much like Lord Hawksworth,” Edward muttered, staring at the haunting drawing on the top of the Penny Dreadful with a shudder. “We need to visit the family and find out if it really is him.”
“We then need to find out how he came to be hung for murder. Did he really kill the maid?” Amelia added. “How do we find out?”
Sebastian frowned. “We need to discover if Hawksworth ever went to this maid’s workplace. Carshalton Hall. Does anyone know who owns it?” Everyone shook their heads negatively.
“I think I know,” Amelia declared.
“How?” Dominic replied with a frown. He quickly glanced at Sebastian and wondered where this was going.
“The face on the Penny Dreadful looks familiar, but not for the reasons you think.” She hadn’t told Sebastian of her thoughts yet, but continued regardless. Somehow, she knew he would understand. “My father is the Earl of Eastleigh,” Amelia announced into the silence.
“Good God, it’s you!” Dominic declared, after several moments of stunned silence.
“Pardon?” Sebastian asked. He stared nonplussed at his elder brother.
“Eastleigh,” Dominic replied, studying Amelia closely. “He has been looking for you.” His tone softened at the look of alarm on Amelia’s face. He glanced warily at Sebastian who was staring at him intently.
“I think you had better tell us more, Dominic,” Sebastian declared, taking a seat beside Amelia and squeezing her hand reassuringly. Her beautiful face had gone deathly pale.
Dominic saw for himself the worry she couldn’t hide. “I can remember about two and a half years ago, I was at White’s. Eastleigh was just leaving. He looked old and worn. Very unlike his usual debonair self. He had apparently been asking questions about investigators who looked for missing people. Rumour at the time was that he was looking for his daughter. Nobody knew much as she hadn’t come out, but word was that she had disappeared and he was trying everything possible to find her.”
Amelia fought the urge to run but knew that if she wanted these people to accept her, she had to be honest with them. She knew at that moment the folly of not confiding everything to Sebastian earlier, while they had been in bed.
“My mother was ill for some time.” Amelia clasped the reassuring warmth of Sebastian’s palm gratefully, as she opened the Pandora’s Box of painful memories.
“She was alright one day, then the next, something happened. I am not sure what. She refused to get out of bed, saying she had a headache and needed peace and quiet. It was a couple of months before I was due to move to London for my coming out. Unfortunately, as the weeks progressed she refused to get up and seemed to withdraw from life. She never seemed to recover.”
Amelia frowned as the memories bubbled like molten lava to the surface. She couldn’t suppress them. Despite the reassuring warmth of Sebastian sitting beside her, she shivered as memories rose to batter her senses.
“I got quite cross with her because she appeared quite well but refused to leave her room. Her behaviour didn’t make sense. She was eating healthily. At times she was up and moving around her room quite nimbly. At nights I could hear her arguing with my father, but not loud enough to hear the details. By morning she was too ill to leave her bed. One day, my father announced that my coming out was cancelled, and I was instead to go to live with my aunts in Bath.” Amelia’s voice quavered as she remembered those days of confusion and uncertainty.
“I argued, and tried to get him to reconsider but he refused repeatedly, insisting that I was to leave immediately. I tried to plead with my mother, but she became argumentative and insisted I go. Neither of them wanted me in the house anymore, and declared it would be better if I was introduced to the social circuit in Bath, rather than London. Despite everything, I argued with my mother. Begged and pleaded, but got nowhere.” Amelia took a deep breath as she remembered that last encounter.
“You don’t have to carry on, Amelia; it’s alright if you want to take a break,” Sebastian murmured, ignoring everyone seated around the room and drawing her closer to him. He slid his arm around her back in mute support.
“It’s alright,” she murmured, offering him a wobbly smile. Now she had begun to speak about the past, the words tumbled out in a flow she couldn’t stop.
“The day before I was due to leave, I decided to plead with my mother in a last ditch attempt to get her to listen to me. I hated my aunts. They are greedy, always dropping hints about needing money, and trading vicious gossip about people. My mother argued that I was to go. This time though, the argument became more heated. Suddenly she grasped her chest and fell to the floor. I screamed and shouted for help. I can’t remember much about what happened, other than I was shoved out of the room.”
The haunting vision of her mother’s lifeless body lying on the bedroom floor rose unbidden in her mind’s eye. It was so vivid, it could have happened just yesterday.
“I waited and waited for news of her condition, although inside I think I knew she was gone. When my father did request my presence in the library, he informed me that nobody was able to do anything for her. I could remain at Eastleigh House until the funeral, but as soon as she was buried I was to depart to my aunts’ house in Bath. I was to remain there until he sent further direction.” Amelia swiped at the tears on her face, as she thought about that horrifying moment when her future was decided for her.
Her protests were ignored, and she was ushered out by the family butler. The last sight of her father on that fateful evening was his rigid back turned he towards her as he stared out at the garden. He simply refused to listen to her, or acknowledge her any longer.
“As soon as my mother was in the ground, I was bundled into the coach and taken to Bath.” Amelia’s voice became monotone as she recounted events, as though watching from a distance. “I argued that last morning, but to no avail. My aunts didn’t want me really. Neither had married or had children, and had no idea how to deal with me. I wasn’t a child. Someone they could manipulate. So they saw me as a threat. I had no sooner walked through the door, than they laid out numerous house rules, and immediately set me to work.”
Amelia glanced around the room, reassured somewhat by the sympathy in the gazes of the people there. It bolstered her courage enough to allow her to continue.
“I worked as their servant. You see, they didn’t want me. They wanted the money my father was paying them to look after me. They got the better end of the deal because they were being paid to have me, and used me as a servant they didn’t have to pay.”
She paused briefly, as Edward swore.
“I didn’t mind,” she murmured softly, with a grateful smile at his supportive outburst. “It gave me something to do. It also provided me with enough grounding to live and cope as Sir Hubert’s housekeeper.”
“What happened then?” Dominic murmured, held as transfixed by her story as everyone else. “You obviously didn’t remain with your aunts. How did you get to Glendowie? Did you know Sir Hubert?”
Amelia shook her head. “No. I had been at my aunts’ for about a year, when I became aware of a certain male visitor who seemed to appear most days. At first I didn’t think anything of it, but after a while one of the staff overheard a conversation between my aunts and this strange man. They were discussing my dowry, and whether it would be released before or after my marriage to the man. My aunts were trying to draw a deal together, whereby they got a cut of my dowry if they persuaded my father the man was suitable. Which he wasn’t. But that didn’t matter to my aunts.” Amelia shuddered at the memories that rose.
“The staff felt sorry for me, and were shocked that my aunts would consider selling me. They agreed to help me leave. Bart, the coachman and butler, had a brother who ran a brewery cart. He arranged for me to travel on the cart to the nearest post chaise, where I purchased a ticket out of Bath, and into freedom. I took some money from my aunt’s room before I left. Enough to buy my way out of there. I figured they owed me, given the money they had been paid to look after me, that hadn’t actually been spent on anything other than themselves.”
“Quite right,” Peter muttered, with almost fatherly approval.
“Damned mercenary witches.” Edward practically bristled with outrage towards the unseen pair.
“So you caught the post chaise to Glendowie?” Sebastian murmured softly, raising her hand to his mouth. Fury and disgust towards her aunts, and the callous way had treated her, burned in his stomach. He swayed between admiration and horror as he listened to her recount events.
“I was on my way to Edinburgh,” Amelia confirmed. “I caught post chaise after post chaise out of Bath. Heading north until my money ran out. Only once I got to Mistlemouth I just had to get off the post chaise and rest for a while. I was exhausted. I purchased a pie, and sat beside the stream to rest for a while. It was nice to be out of the hustle and bustle of the busy coaching inn for a while. Unfortunately, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the light was beginning to fade. I rushed back to the inn only to find that the coach had left, and wasn’t due to visit again for another week. I could have waited, but didn’t have enough funds to purchase a room for one night, let alone several. I was panicked and didn’t know what I was going to do. As I left the inn, I bumped into Sir Hubert. Literally. I knocked him flying. He appeared very frail as he stood before me, yet so kind and apologetic for knocking into me. He was clearly struggling to carry his books and purchases, and with nothing else to do I offered to carry them home for him. As we walked, he asked me several questions about who I was, and why I was there. So I told him. Everything. Including my dire predicament, and sought his advice on what I should do.”
Amelia was aware of the amount of time she had been rambling on with her wayward thoughts, and wondered if everyone was bored yet. When she paused, she was met with an expectant silence as everyone waited for her to continue.
“When we got to his house, he apologised for the shabby state of the place and offered me the job as his housekeeper. Unfortunately, his funds were low. Even with his advanced age, it wasn’t really suitable for me to live in the house with him. We did a deal where he paid me lower wages, and in lieu of payment let me live in the small cottage through the woods. I got a job that paid some money, and had a roof over my head. He agreed not to inform anyone of my real name.”
“There you lived in relative solitude, until I landed on your doorstep,” Sebastian added into the stunned silence that had fallen over the group.
“Until you arrived,” Amelia confirmed ruefully, but without regret.
“If it is not too impertinent, how old are you?” Peter asked, frowning at her in consideration.
“Three and twenty,” Amelia murmured, with candour. “I am far beyond needing a guardian, so my father is not able to turn up and demand I go anywhere. I am my own person now.”
“Excellent,” Sebastian added, moving to stand. “That certainly makes life easier.”
“Does it?” Amelia moved to stand also, wary at his last comment. It sounded suspiciously like he had plans. “How?”
Sebastian merely smiled and wisely remained quiet. Having had her confirm her ancestry and imminent suitability to be his wife, there was really no reason why they couldn’t marry whenever they chose.
“You can now tell us why this man looks so familiar to you. In particular what his connections with Eastleigh are,” Sebastian said, handing her a brandy with a smile. “Thank you, Amelia, for taking us into your confidence. We all appreciate how painful it must be to recount such a difficult time.”
“I don’t really know much about Hawksworth,” Amelia replied, glancing at the Penny Dreadful and the horrible picture of the murderer. “I saw him on several occasions entering and leaving Eastleigh Hall. Only from a distance, you understand. I just assumed he was a business associate of Eastleigh’s.”
“I think someone needs to go to Eastleigh to see if they can find out what the connection was,” Dominic announced, glancing at Amelia when she instinctively made to protest. “If there is a business connection there, Eastleigh may be able to tell us a bit more about Hawksworth’s lifestyle. He may also be able to identify the man on the Penny Dreadful.”
“We can’t take the Penny Dreadful to the Hawksworth family and ask them,” Sebastian replied. “If it is him-.” He shook his head.
“But do we have to include Eastleigh?” Amelia felt panic begin to build. Had she done the right thing in confiding in them?
“You are perfectly safe here, darling, I promise you. Nobody can insist you leave. Not even your father.” Sebastian’s voice was hard and challenging. “As nobody else can remember anything about Hawksworth, it has to be Eastleigh for now.”
“I can go to visit the Hawksworth family and see if they have heard anything from, or about, Hawksworth since he left,” Edward offered.
“I will go to Derby Gaol and ask if anyone can remember anything about Hawksworth’s imprisonment, and if anyone visited him while he was there,” Peter offered, thinking of his own personal quest to locate the elusive Jemima. “I can also take a look at the death mask and see if it resembles the man on the picture.”
“See if you are able to convince the magistrate if we can have loan of it for the time being,” Sebastian asked, thinking aloud. “It might help to get a magistrate on board if our thoughts are confirmed.”
“I will have to tell him what has happened so far. Do I have your permission?” Peter queried, glancing at both Sebastian and Amelia.
“You have mine,” Sebastian replied, nudging Amelia who jerked, clearly startled. “Does he have your permission to mention your involvement in my rescue, and your connection to Eastleigh?” Sebastian asked softly.
“Oh, yes, if there really is no other way,” Amelia replied hesitantly, surprised at being asked. She glanced curiously at Sebastian, who had turned his attention back towards Dominic.
“I don’t want you travelling to see Eastleigh alone, Sebastian,” Dominic added, with a frown at his younger brother.
“I’ll be fine,” Sebastian replied, eyeing the determination in his brother’s stance warily.
“Given that we have yet to ascertain why Ballantyne tried to kill you rather than any of us, we can only assume the risk is still very real. You cannot in all conscience expect me to remain here and wait for your return. I’m coming with you.”
“We cannot leave the ladies here all by themselves,” Sebastian replied with a frown.
“Why not?” Amelia murmured, glaring indignantly at Sebastian. “We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, are we not, Isobel?”
“Of course we are, Amelia,” Isobel replied as she rose to her feet. “We are not helpless ninnies; we will be perfectly fine here by ourselves. We can chat about all sorts of things without you men around to disturb us.”
A silent look of masculine communication shot between the men, who wisely remained silent. Amelia wasn’t oblivious to the looks, although couldn’t fathom their meaning.
“We will leave in the morning,” Sebastian announced quietly, settling back in his chair to sip his brandy.
“I’m going to say goodnight,” Amelia announced. “Might I have a few minutes with you, Sebastian, please?” she murmured, before bidding everyone goodnight and quietly leaving the room.
Out in the hallway, she paused and waited for Sebastian to join her.
“I take it you are going to leave for Eastleigh early in the morning?” Her suspicions were confirmed by the guilty look that stole over his face so quickly that she wondered if she had imagined it.
“The quicker I set out, the quicker we can resolve the mystery around Ballantyne and get on with our lives, Amelia.” Sebastian fought the urge to shuffle his feet like a ten year old caught scrumping apples.
“Promise me you won’t tell Eastleigh where I am. You are to keep your meeting with Eastleigh about Hawksworth and Ballantyne only.” Amelia’s eyes met and held his in dire threat.
“I won’t do anything that will bring you unhappiness, Amelia,” Sebastian replied evasively, moving closer to cup her chin in his palm and tilt her head upwards for a kiss.
Not so easily distracted, Amelia tugged back at the last moment, her eyes hardening briefly. “If you return with Eastleigh, or you break my trust, Sebastian, I shall leave here and never return.” The words dropped between them like pebbles on a calm pond. Sebastian frowned, knowing that she meant every word.
“Amelia,” he protested softly.
“I mean it, Sebastian. I won’t have your interference in this, however good you think your intentions are.” Amelia pulled away from the tempting curve of his firm lips and climbed the stairs. She knew he stood and watched her until she disappeared. She could feel his eyes on her back, and was glad when he didn’t follow her.
Once out of sight, she leant a steady hand on the wall, her fingers trembling with a mixture of worry and anger. If he ran true to form, Sebastian would feel it incumbent upon himself to inform Eastleigh of her whereabouts, and use the opportunity of dragging the man back to Tingdale to push for marriage. She could only be glad she had sent the request for a reference off to Sir Hubert.