“It is I who should apologize, my lord,” Amelia replied, looking down at the floor. “I should not have offered my thoughts on the matter. I forgot in whose company I am as well as my position.”
Lord Beaumont gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “It does not matter. Speak as you wish. The journey ahead is long and the quietness will only drive me mad.”
His words hold great irony, she thought, thinking of his outburst. His quick temper spoke of a man already bordering on madness.
Once the carriage steadied, he retied the ribbon that held his long dark hair. As she watched his movement from the corner of her eye, that strange heat returned, and she forced her thoughts from his muscular body to more…appropriate…matters.
“You mentioned bad fortune,” she said. “What bad fortune do you speak of.” She waited for another outburst, but he had said she could speak as she wished. If he did not want her to ask particular questions, he should have said so.
At first he said nothing, and the burst of bravado that caused her to ask the question dissipated. She should have followed her instincts and remained silent.
“Do you believe that promises should be kept?” he asked after several moments, still staring out the window. “When an agreement is made between two parties, no matter the circumstances, should that agreement be honored?”
“I believe so,” she replied after some thought. “If someone is unable to keep his word, it is a clear sign that he cannot be trusted. It speaks of his character and reflects poorly on him and his family. The same can be said whether that someone is a man or a woman.”
He gave an appreciative grunt. “I believe the same,” he said, turning to face her. “Yet, twice now promises were made, and each time those promises were broken.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “That is the bad fortune of which I spoke. I only wish I knew how to put an end to it.”
Amelia considered his words and said, “My mother often tells me that, if one wishes to change his luck, he must not wait but rather do it himself.”
He gave a snort that said he did not agree. He was proving to be stubborn, and she could not help but shake her head at his foolishness.
“Perhaps you should look at the good fortune you have rather than focusing on the bad.”
“And what good fortune would that be, Miss Parker?” he demanded. “Tell me, for I see none.”
Amelia swallowed hard. Was the man on the brink of exploding once more? Yet, his expectant look compelled her. “Well, you are a gentleman. Therefore, I assume you do not worry for food or shelter when so many do. While scores of people wear rags, your clothing is made by skilled hands of the finest fabrics.”
“These are things one can buy,” he said with a wave of his hand. “That is not good fortune.”
With a shrug, Amelia said, “Perhaps you are right. Yet, you have what many do not, and now I do not speak of your well-tailored coat or fashionable boots.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “Continue.” He placed an arm across the back of the bench, and Amelia’s mouth went dry. How could a gentleman be so well…formed?
She swallowed to bring moisture back into her mouth before replying. “Although I am a servant, you deigned to save me. Twice. You now have allowed me passage in your personal carriage, and not once have you asked for money in exchange or tried to take advantage of me. Your actions have brought me great fortune, and I would think it would be returned to you tenfold.” She gave him a small smile. “You may find your room — or even a drink — paid for by a servant if you are lucky.”
He stared at her for a moment and then he doubled over with laughter. “Miss Parker, truly you are quite unique. I have never met a woman like you.” When his laughter had died down and he was wiping tears from his eyes, he said, “I suppose what you say is true. You have brought me good fortune. I only hope it increases. Or at least remains.” He took a deep breath, all laughter now gone from his tone and features, and added in a whisper, “For my father’s sake.”
Although Amelia was curious what he meant by these words, she decided it best to remain quiet. She had overstepped her bounds enough for one day and would not risk her own luck.
For the next few hours, neither spoke, each in his or her own thoughts. Lord Beaumont had said she was unique, as well as fascinating, and she thought the same of him. Although she had her own worries on which to focus, she could not help but be curious what bad fortune had befallen this man and if there was anything she could do to ease his pain.
***
Rain pelted the windows of the common room at the inn Christopher had chosen for the night. The room’s decor consisted of poorly crafted tables and mismatched chairs, which did nothing to curb his anger. It was not the furniture, nor the variety of other guests that filled the chairs around them that caused his ire. The fact he would return to his estate in just a matter of days was what caused his blood to boil, for he would have to confide in his father once more that he had returned without a bride. Christopher despised the idea of giving the ill man such news.
“The stew is far better than I expected,” Miss Parker said, interrupting his thoughts. “Do you agree?”
“It is fine,” he murmured, taking another bite. He would have agreed, for the meat was quite tender, but when he spotted his empty glass, his anger flared. “I do wish to have a drink with it.” He glanced around. “That blasted barman must be both blind and deaf.”
“I will get you another,” Miss Parker said, and before he could stop her, she took his mug and made her way toward the bar that sat along one wall.
He sighed, placed his spoon in his bowl, and turned his attention to the window. The rain came in steady streams, and of course, the roads would be even worse tomorrow. Where was that good fortune of which Miss Parker spoke? It certainly would be a pleasant change if he received some.
What is keeping her? he grumbled silently.
Turning, he found a man in a well-tailored coat speaking to her, and based on her expression, the conversation was unwelcome. She certainly had a way of drawing unwanted attention! He stood, and as he neared the pair, he overheard the man’s words.
“I do find it odd that you sit with that gentleman. Is he your employer?”
Christopher’s anger flared. “Why do you ask her rather them me?” he demanded. When the man turned to him, he said, “Why are you bothering her?”
“Lord Beaumont –,” Miss Parker said, but Christopher raised a hand and she fell silent.
“My apologies, my lord,” the man said with a smile. “I was merely inquiring.”
Christopher recalled a similar smile from an old friend just before the man betrayed him, and with his blood already hot, he grabbed the man by the lapels of his coat and pulled him close so their faces were within inches. “You will not bother me or this woman again,” he snarled. “My business is not yours.”
The man glanced down. “I was merely asking. I meant no harm.”
A memory from years past entered Christopher’s mind.
“Now, Beaumont, I only asked Miss Allison out of curiosity,” Mr. Timothy Reynolds had said. Surely his friend’s question was innocent enough and he had meant no harm. “Do you believe I would actually attempt to woo your fiancée from you?”
Christopher blinked when a hand touched his arm.
“Lord Beaumont,” Miss Parker whispered, “please, release him.”
Christopher glared at the man once more before pushing him back and releasing his coat. The man spewed a string of curses as he walked away.
“That man was trouble,” Christopher growled as he reached over and picked up his mug. He tapped the counter. “Another wine for the lady.”
“I do not want another,” Miss Parker said. “I believe I will retire to my room.”
The barman looked at first one and then the other apparently uncertain what to do.
“Pay her no heed,” Christopher said. “Get her another wine.” As the barman walked away to do his bidding, Christopher turned back t
o Miss Parker. “After all I have done for you, you wish to leave me here alone?” He pulled a long drink from his mug, knowing he should stop before he became drunk but not caring in the least. He needed something to sooth his rattled nerves. This woman was nothing but trouble. Perhaps he should have allowed those two ruffians to have her that first day! “Well, be gone with you then, servant.”
As soon as the words left his lips, he knew he had overstepped his mark, for the woman had such a look of pain in her eyes, he wished he could take back what he had said.
She raised herself up with indignation. “I will join you for another if you wish.” Taking the wine glass the barman had placed on the bar, she turned on her heel, her chin jutted forward, and returned to the table.
Humiliation washed over Christopher as he followed her. He had not meant to be so cross with her. Well, she would get over it; she was only a servant, after all.
Once seated, he returned to his food, shoveling the stew into his mouth as if it were his last meal. “You should eat,” he said between bites. “It will grow cold.”
“I am no longer hungry.”
The spoon clinked on the bowl as he set it down. “I paid hard-earned money for that food, and this is how you repay my kindness?” Hard-earned was a stretch, but he wanted some way to get back at her, although he was uncertain why. What had she truly done wrong? However, he could not stop the onslaught once it began.
“Repaid kindness,” Miss Parker whispered before taking her spoon in hand. “It will always be the same.”
Christopher frowned. What was wrong with this woman? And what did she mean by her words? She was proving to be a strange woman, indeed.
Chapter Five
Amelia thought Lord Beaumont would strangle the inquiring man — or at the very least pummel him with his fist. Thankfully, he listened to reason and did neither. Men could be so silly believing violence could fix every problem.
Now, back in her seat at the table, she wished she had never met him. He did have moments of kindness, but the further they traveled, the angrier he became. It was not that she feared he would hurt her but rather someone around them.
How she wished she could return to her room. Perhaps tomorrow she could find another way to get to Rumsbury, for she still had the funds her mother had given her. Hiring a carriage would be less costly now that she was closer. No, for now she would honor his request and remain with him.
As she watched the man eat, she felt ill. He had never had such terrible table manners before, but when she refused his order to eat, his words stung her heart.
This is how you repay my kindness?” he growled.
If only the man knew the pain his words inflicted. “Repaid kindness,” she whispered before taking her spoon in hand. “It will always be the same.”
Three months earlier, Amelia had slipped a few silver coins into the hand of a fellow servant, requesting that he purchase a bottle of sherry for her mother’s birthday. The man readily agreed and later that day returned with the purchase. Amelia had slipped away from her room to meet him in the kitchen.
“Thank you for doing this,” she said, reaching for the bottle. However, rather than giving it to her, he hid it behind his back. “Ralph?”
“I think payment for my kindness is in order,” he said. “I’d say a kiss from you’d suffice.”
“I asked a favor of you,” Amelia said, her heart pounding against her chest. Ralph had never been so forward with her before. “Why are you doing this to me?”
The man shrugged. “If you don’t want to repay my kindness, then I’ll keep the bottle for myself.”
With her mother’s birthday the following day, what choice did she have? She had no time, nor more money, to purchase another bottle. “You wish me to repay your kindness?”
He grinned. The man she thought a friend was a scoundrel, but what could she do? Therefore, she nodded. His grin widened further, and he leaned over and kissed her. The sensation of his lips on hers sickened her, and she prayed it would end quickly.
Her prayer was answered when he took a step back and placed the bottle in her hands.
“Miss Parker?”
Amelia looked up and shook her head to clear the memory.
“What do you think?”
“Think about what?” she asked as she pushed away the sadness along with the bowl of unfinished food.
Lord Beaumont placed the spoon in the now empty bowl. “I asked if you believe my actions toward that man were unjust.”
“I am not certain that taking the man by his coat was necessary,” she replied as she picked up her wine glass. “Perhaps talking would have garnered better results.”
Lord Beaumont smirked. “I have seen men such as he before. Men who pretend to be innocent, yet their questions mean to harm. He would have tried to take you from me.”
“Take me from you?” Amelia asked as panic filled her. Did he believe he owned her in some way now that he had aided her? Why had that idea not occurred to her sooner?
Lord Beaumont nodded as the barman set another mug in front of him and removed the old. “Indeed,” he replied. “You are with me, correct?” Amelia had no opportunity to respond. “He was jealous and sought you for himself.” He leaned forward. “I will not allow that. No harm will come to you as long as you are with me.”
Amelia sipped at her wine. The man was drunk, that explained his infuriating words. “I thank you for your protection, but I believe the man was merely curious, as he said.” What she did not say was that Lord Beaumont had no right to speak as if he possessed her in some way. He would not see reason, not in his current state.
“No!” he said, slamming his fist on the table and making the silverware jump. “There is no curiosity with men such as he. Do you not see? You are a beautiful woman. Men like him will try to woo you away. And it all begins with innocent questions.”
Amelia wondered if he realized he had called her beautiful. Probably not. She glanced around them. The hour was late and few patrons remained. She wished to understand this man more, but between his ramblings and unpredictable temper, she found she could not.
“If you do not mind, I would like to return to my room now.”
Lord Beaumont rolled his eyes. “Go on, then. I do not care. You women are all the same.”
Angry and hurt by the man’s words and actions, Amelia hurried from the table. Pausing at the door to the hallway, she turned to look back as he ordered yet another drink.
Yes, tomorrow she would search for alternate transportation, for another day with this man would only prove to be infuriating.
***
The sun would not rise for another half hour as Amelia continued her walk to the next village. The innkeeper had said it would take her more than three hours to travel by foot, but she wished to be away before Lord Beaumont woke. She could not travel with the man a day longer.
What had begun as a kind gesture had turned into jealousy and possessiveness. His words and actions the previous evening had unsettled her. He had nearly beat a man for simply speaking to her! His words of mistrust, especially his concern that the man would take her away had filled her with fear.
Amelia knew few men, besides those with whom she worked at Chatterly Estate. Thus far Lord Beaumont and Lord Leeson had proven that gentleman saw her as some sort of property. Did they not see that their words and actions hurt her? She supposed they did and simply did not care.
Yet, when she considered Lord Beaumont, the idea that he was like the others surprised her. He had been so gallant, so chivalrous, she had expected him to be different. But alas, he was not. At least she had gotten away from him before he could have his way with her.
The rising sun behind her created a pink tinge over the landscape, and Amelia smiled despite her anxiety over what had taken place. Far ahead was Scarlett Hall, and she thought of her new life with great anticipation. She could not wait.
She stopped, placed her carpet bag on the ground beside her, and rubbed her lowe
r back. She was not accustomed to walking such long distances. Washing floors, certainly, but never walking. Her grandmother rarely allowed her to leave the house, let alone the grounds.
A man on a horse trotted by, contempt in his gaze as he passed. Lord Beaumont would have smiled at me, she thought and then scolded herself for even thinking of the man. He was handsome, to be sure, quite handsome, in fact, but he believed he could possess her as if she was some object, and she could not abide that. His temper did not help either.
She picked up the carpetbag once more and continued her journey. The road was muddy after the furious storm the previous night, but at least she had sturdy shoes. One small thing for which she could thank her grandmother. One of few.
With each step, her thoughts returned to Lord Beaumont of their own accord. Did he regret his actions of the night before? Or was he still as bullheaded today? Well, she would never know, nor did she care to.
The snort of a horse made her move to the edge of the road as she had done several times already. Unfortunately, this time she recognized the carriage as it drew closer, and she groaned.
Please go on by, she prayed, yet when it did, sadness washed over her. Although she had brought to mind the words, the truth was she had hoped he would stop, at least to apologize for his actions. Considering the difference in their stations, however, she knew he would not. And why should he?
Then the carriage did indeed come to a stop a short way up the road, and she watched in surprise as Lord Beaumont exited the vehicle and trotted back to her.
“Miss Parker,” he called out, his long hair flowing behind him.
He had come for her! Why did the thought of this fact make her legs grow weak? Even her arms seemed to lose all ability to keep hold of her bag and it dropped with a wet plop in the mud.
“Lord Beaumont,” she said, gathering all of her indignation from the previous evening. Although she stood at full height, he towered over her, handsome and with a strong baring that sent images to her mind of him taking her into his arms and kissing her.
Vows of Honor: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 6 Page 4