Amalia scanned the still dark sky as she used her good hand to fiddle with her brooch. Not her most presentable, though it was better than her hair and cosmetics. She hadn’t even dared line her eyes. At least the train to Hunterdon was short. She wouldn’t really be able to undo the damage until they were back on the main track instead of this offshoot.
Her fingers itched with need to fix, to right, to make her look like she was supposed to. Like nothing was amiss. Like she hadn’t had a mirror held up to her face and could no longer ignore all she’d done, and worse, all she’d now give anything to undo.
She tested her right palm with her thumb and winced. Still sore. And aching like her nerves. Despite the small respite she had with David in the hotel, they were back to reality today. The letter writer, the train, the deadline, and her inevitable confrontation with her parents. Amalia pinched her temples.
Better get downstairs. Time to leave.
When she descended, Will and Meg were already in the parlor, on the settee. Both their heads swiveled around, as did Elias’s. David was the only one who rose. He moved towards the stairs and handed her a teacup filled with black liquid and a biscuit. “We best be going, but I figured you’d need a little something before we boarded.”
Her hand shaking a bit, she accepted both. “Thank you. That’s very kind.” And it was kind. Much too kind. The man was so attentive and charming. If only she could find a way... No, don’t even entertain that sort of future, Amalia. Too late, far too late.
David stroked his stubble. “It’s nothing. The cook was already setting breakfast and I managed to find some coffee grounds in the back of the pantry.”
Probably from when she and Elias were still married. Hopefully it wouldn’t kill her. Amalia took a long swig. She needed it. The delicious burn...ah... “No, David, thank you very much.”
Her former husband cleared his throat. “My men and I will escort you to the station and see that there’s no trouble getting on the train.”
Too much. She tipped her chin to him. “You don’t have to—”
“It’s nothing.” Elias laid a hand on her shoulder. “Even if we aren’t married, you’re still my people. You saved me, Amalia. You’re as much of a brother in blue as any of your siblings.”
Pressure poured in the back of her eyes, a sorrow mixed with a guilt—for Simon, for the others, and for the generations of her family who compromised too many times, made bargains with other people’s lives. And most of all, for her own helplessness during the entire ordeal. The fact that she stood by and watched and hadn’t managed to find some way to do a lick of good.
What she’d done for Elias afterwards was a pittance. It was the least she could do. Especially as her charity benefited from the bargain.
“We’re walking, but we’ll put you in the middle. I don’t want to take any chance after the knife.” David stepped between them and with a tight grip on her shoulder, moved her next to his body, so her hip was against his, the heat searing into her core once more, ex-husband in the room or not.
Amalia rolled her eyes to keep from swooning. “Honestly—” David stroked her gloved hand and any and all protests died as she melted into him. “All right,” she whispered.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, the train lurched forward hard enough that she needed to clutch a seat for purchase. She and David were alone in the car, as Will and Meg had gone on another patrol. She stroked her injured hand, before glancing at her still moody companion. Well, that wouldn’t do. Especially as she needed all the bolstering for her return home and if she was going to have anything involving David...time was growing short, after all.
“Yes? May I help you?” David leaned in, the hickory scent tickling her nose as he asked the question.
“What do you mean?” She choked a little as memories of the night before, all that was interrupted, flitted through her mind.
He folded his arms, but didn’t move away from her. “Come on, Amalia, you’ve been moaning and sighing for hours, loudly.”
“The grimness is unbearable.” She mirrored his stance.
He arched his brows.
“Yes, yes, life in danger, hurt hand, shadowy figures, dead rat. I know and I’m scared too, but I’m also, well, I can’t just sit here and dwell on it, can I?” She stuck out her lip a little at him, willing him to agree, as she had quite the litany of other activities they could be doing instead of becoming all tense. “Especially not since there are worse things that can happen.”
“Worse things?” His lip tipped a bit at that.
Yes. Playful David was back. Amalia shimmied a little in her seat. Time to engage. “I’m never going to be able to finish this column, for example.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I mean, we had to leave and I didn’t even get to try the water.”
“You’re upset about that?” It might have been her imagination, but did he just scoot closer to her?
“Yes, that and the grimness.” She snuggled against him and the cushioned seat, searching his eyes for a flinch that never came. Score one for her. She was getting to him. She wet her lips. “I’m still going to write a lovely review for them. They were very good to us, but it won’t satisfy an entire column. I’ll need more so I have to think of another idea, an even better one, which I can’t because I’m surrounded by male...brooding.”
“I thought women found brooding attractive.” David reached up as if to stretch, but threaded his arm around her shoulder on the way back. Luckily no one was in the car with them and Will was guarding the door. “Thad mentioned you were particularly enamored with books by a few British women who wrote rather stormy heroes.”
Amalia closed her eyes and forced herself not to vibrate with excitement at his nearness. Well, not too much. She stroked her hand again, not daring to look at him, least he’d stop touching her. “Um, no. I changed my mind about both Heathcliff and Mr. Rochester when I grew up. I’m not twelve anymore. And Thad needs to keep his mouth shut.”
“Family trait.” David nudged her side with his elbow.
“Mean.” She bumped him right back before gazing up to find him dangling a small pouch with a single finger. “What’s that?”
“A vial of water from the springs.” David grinned at her, a real full, confident smile, showing his teeth. “I purchased it from the desk clerk on our way out. I told him that we had a family emergency, but my wife just needed a little to tide her over until we’d be back. I gave him quite the tip.”
“Oh, David.” Amalia’s heart swelled and she had to clutch the seat so not to spring onto his lap and wrap her arms around him.
Instead, he dropped it into her hands. “I doubt it will do anything.”
“Just save my column and my neck with my editor.” She clutched it to her chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much.” She held out her hand to David. “Take off my left glove.”
“Bossy again.” He tutted to the same beat as the train wheels.
“Please.” She stuck out her lower lip at him and laid her hand across his so he couldn’t refuse.
With a gentle touch that made the bottom of her stomach zing, he undid each button and slid the material off in a slow, languid, almost flirtatious motion. “There we go.” He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead.
“Um, can you open this too?” Amalia indicated to the water sample and swallowed. He was far too good at this game, but it was so enjoyable not to play, even if she did need to focus on the rest of her task.
“What do you want to do with it?” He squinted as he unscrewed the top and held it out to her.
She shook her head. “Dab it under my eyes. I can powder again after but there are circles and I want to see if this gets rid of them.” At least he could make himself useful and touch her. Two birds with one stone and all of that.
David blinked. “You’re serious.”
�
��Yes, very.” She nodded. Honestly. This was her job, one that she was good at. And she owed people—her editor who believed in her and the readers who looked forward to it every week to not only make it timely, but interesting. And show them all that those complaints were meaningless.
“All right.” David stuck his pointer finger in the vial and lifted it towards her face. “Allow me.” He frowned, inches from the skin. “I feel silly. Do you feel silly?”
“A little.” Though she bit her lip, as he glided along the skin, willing herself not to do something inappropriate like guide the finger into her mouth again. Because, even though they were alone... Focus, she needed to focus. Column, remember. Amalia ground her jaw. “Oh. It was said to have healing properties so...”
“Other glove?” He already had her hand in his, massaging the sore area.
“Yes, please.” She sighed a little. She could get used to this treatment. Had anyone ever been so attentive? Amalia gazed at him. If only she could read minds. “You’re very good at that.” She crossed her ankles tighter. “Very good.”
“I try.” David’s lip tipped a little, but he ducked his head down as he continued to tend to her.
He really was skilled. How? “Did Meg teach you?” she asked.
“Meg?” David’s brow wrinkled but he didn’t stop.
“Because she’s a nurse, and your friend.” Amalia worked to keep the twinge of jealousy out of her voice, but no, she was never destined to be an actress.
David snorted a little. “She’s more Will’s friend. His very close friend, if you get my meaning. But no, she didn’t teach me.” He patted her hand and laid it back on her lap, but didn’t let it go. “I just figured out how to make things feel better. I get a lot of aches.”
“From the war.” Her voiced became a whisper as a million horrible images, the ones that haunted her nightmares, flitted inside her head.
“From pulling a cart.” David shifted in his seat, the cuff of his jacket brushing her bare skin. “And working a press at a paper factory. And slinging newspapers. And laying bricks. And carting boxes at a slaughterhouse.”
“You did all of that?” Amalia’s mind reeled.
“Yes, ma’am.” He stroked her thumb again. “Do it still. Sometimes to gather information as a Pinkerton agent, sometimes to earn a little extra on the side.”
“Why?” She bit her lip. “Well, you said why but for the latter, it can’t be very lucrative. There have to be better things. You aren’t a dullard like me.”
“A glowing endorsement.” David smirked at her. “Though you, madam, are no fool. Mathematical ability isn’t everything. Besides, there is no shame in labor. In a fair society it would be valued as much as medicine or law or even banking.”
“You know what I mean.” She nudged his shoulder. “And even if they were compensated equally, I’d still venture you’d be better suited for things that require using your mind, not your arms. I may not be completely foolish—though I have a few family members who might disagree with that assessment—but you’re a great deal smarter than I am and more capable.” Amalia twisted a fallen curl around the fingers on her good hand.
He kissed her injured hand and she sighed. “Hence why I’m a Pinkerton. Though sometimes I have my doubts. The organization includes a lot of people who think unions are dangerous. I tell myself I want this promotion, in part, to change things from within, but I wonder...”
She opened her mouth to prod him to finish but he shook his head.
“Amalia, we can’t be lovers.” David pulled back and tugged at his hair, his eyes serious.
“Why?” Blazes, was that a hitch in her voice? No. She had to remain in control to argue it correctly. Even if she couldn’t have the full fairy tale, they could create their own story, right? If he didn’t want marriage, fine. It was only a piece of paper, after all. One that you could dissolve, if you had means. She, of all people, didn’t need to be protected from him. “I mean you seemed to enjoy what we did and I didn’t even get a chance to—”
The train lurched to a halt. She would’ve flown to the other side of the room and hit her head if David hadn’t caught her. The force of her body against his was enough to knock him to the floor though, her on top of him.
His chest heaved below her as he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her against him. “Shhh,” he whispered in her ear.
For a moment the world paused. Complete silence except both their breaths, synchronizing as they lay on the floor. Body to body, heart against heart, until pandemonium broke loose.
“Fire. Everyone out.” The call came loud and clear, through the door, over the noise.
Screams assaulted them from all directions and the pounding from fists on doors echoed throughout the train. Amalia hitched forward, ready to stand, ready to move, but David forced her still.
What was he doing? She clutched his hand and squeezed. “We have to leave. You heard them. Fire.”
“We’ll get trampled.” He pulled her behind his body, shielding her, from a half-standing, half-sitting position. “Amalia, you know this can’t be an accident.”
Shivering, Amalia huddled against his back, as an acrid odor burnt the inside of her nose. “Probably, but at the moment, what does it matter? We need to leave so we don’t, you know, burn to death. Besides, we need to find Meg and Will.”
“They’ll take care of each other.” David muttered the words almost to himself before he coughed. “I’m getting you out of here and we are not getting back on the train.” With that he sank to the floor, guiding her down beside him.
Amalia threw her good hand over her mouth so not to shriek, and more to keep the creeping smoke out.
He rolled to his side and faced her, his eyes boring right into hers. “We’re going to crawl, on our stomachs.”
“What?” He couldn’t be serious? Could he? Her clothes would be ruined and she needed her—Amalia reached up and pulled down her case. The letters would not burn, no matter what, she’d get them out, even on her stomach. Because after he was gone, they’d be all she had left. Forever.
“Smoke rises. It’ll be the easiest way. Trust me on this.” He slithered forward. “Follow me. Hold on to my ankles and when we get to an exit, I’ll pull you out. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “Yes. Yes, I can. I trust you.” Amalia settled herself back and grabbed onto the cuffs of David’s pants.
“All right.” He lowered himself all the way down. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Eighteen
Every single foul four-letter word General Warren screamed on that hill reverberated through David’s head as he crawled on his belly down the smoke and panic-filled corridor. Amalia’s hand clutched his left ankle. He slowed down as much as he could so not to dislodge her, especially as she was working with only one hand.
The thick, black air above them was like tar and filling the can-like compartment fast. With all his strength he skidded forward, slithering around bodies, ignoring the screams. His eyes burned, but finally a curtain flapped revealing the blue of the sky through an open door. He pressed down to stand and—crash.
A burly man who’d hoisted a brass edged trunk on his shoulders tripped. His load was airborne, headed right towards David. He rolled to his side and threw his hands over his head.
Thwack.
Right across his back. Ow.
But there was no time to think. The smoke sank lower. He pushed up again, but his chest wouldn’t move. The trunk pinned him to the floor. David twisted and tilted. He needed it off, now. But the angle—he couldn’t get the right angle. And the weight bore down on him, pressing into his spine. He coughed louder. He tilted his chin, the blue—so close but so far...and the weight grew heavier and heavier, until something soft brushed past him.
A grunt and a groan above him and the trunk thudded off to his side. And he could breathe.
“Come on, David, get up.” Amalia tugged at his arms, yanking him towards the door. He blinked, his eyes burning, as his body and mind struggled to make sense of the situation. Had Amalia just tossed the huge weight that near killed him? Was that possible? The woman was tall, but still...though there was no time to think. They needed to leave.
With all the strength he could throw into his muscles he rose up and grabbed Amalia around the waist as she threw an arm around his neck. The two ran for it, not stopping until they hit the grass and ran smack into Will, Meg at his side.
“Jesus.” Will slapped his back a few times. David spun and thrust Amalia in his partner’s outstretched hands.
“Make sure she’s okay.” He bent down, hands on his knees, coughing. A million fears raced through his mind, not the least of which was the potential danger lurking in the mass of passengers on the ground, choking and screaming and calling out for assistance. Somewhere in the crowd was the person who caused this.
This couldn’t be an accident, couldn’t be a coincidence. No one had that much bad luck. He raised his neck and locked eyes with Will. “Get her out of here. Now,” he managed to say between gasps.
His partner gave him a curt nod even as Amalia started to protest and raced off towards the tree line, Amalia in his arms, Meg at his heels. David sank to his knees for a moment, eyes closed. He was out of practice. Who’d have thought he could do endless marches wearing wool and multiple packs in the full sun?
With a few thumps on his chest with his fist, David managed to calm his breathing down enough to stand once more. He scanned the crowd to make sure no one was watching before he scurried in the direction his partners took Amalia. A few feet into the woods, he found the three hiding behind a tree. He sidled up to Will, as Meg and Amalia straightened each other’s garments.
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