by Laura Martin
Edward thought about screening the information his steward was bringing first, but decided it was Amelia’s future at stake, so instead strode outside to find her.
She was hurrying back towards the house from the stables, her hair windswept and her cheeks rosy from the fresh air. She looked happy, the fear that had been stalking her for the past few days was finally lifting, and Edward was loathe to shatter that happiness.
‘Mr Guthry’s here,’ Edward said as they met.
Immediately the worry was back. He could see it in the small frown lines between her eyebrows and the way she sucked in her lower lip.
‘What did he say?’
‘He hasn’t told me anything yet. I thought we should hear whatever he has to say together.’
Edward wondered if he’d made the right decision. When Jane was alive he had always dealt with any unsavoury business without involving her. He’d protected her from the worst in the world, but Amelia was stronger than Jane had been. She’d been through so much in the last few weeks and was still fighting. It only seemed right to let her hear what Guthry had to say first hand. It was her life after all.
Mr Guthry was waiting for them and looked anxious to begin.
‘Well, firstly, McNair is alive. I thought you’d like to know straight off. But I have some worrying news, miss...worrying news indeed. I don’t wish to alarm you, but I need to warn you. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I hadn’t warned you.’
‘Start at the beginning, Mr Guthry,’ Edward said soothingly. He glanced at Amelia and saw she had initially blanched at Guthry’s warning, but had managed to regain her composure.
‘Well, I travelled to Brighton to track down this fellow of yours, Captain McNair. It wasn’t all that difficult to find where he resided, but the man himself was long gone.’
Edward supposed McNair had set off after Amelia soon after he had recovered from the wound she had inflicted upon him.
‘I started to ask around, try to build up a picture of the man, and I can tell you it wasn’t good.’ Guthry shook his head vehemently and clasped his hands together.
‘He’s in debt with everyone, a gambler and a drinker, and no one would come out and say it, but I gathered he’s seduced one or two women he shouldn’t have.’ Guthry’s ears turned pink as he glanced at Amelia. ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but that’s what I was told.’
Amelia gestured for him to continue, her face impassive and only her stiff posture betraying the tension she must be feeling.
‘It took me a while to pick up his trail, but after a few days I caught up with him in the village of Southease. He was asking everyone if they had seen a young woman fitting your description.’
Edward knew the village well. It was only a few miles away and he supposed McNair must have followed Amelia’s trail from there to here.
‘I bought some of the locals drinks to find out what he’d been asking them and it turns out McNair was rather vocal when under the influence of a few too many cups of ale. He said he was tracking his wife, who had attacked him and then fled, and that when he caught up with her then her life wouldn’t be worth living.’ Guthry flicked an apologetic glance in Amelia’s direction. ‘I’m sorry, miss, I wish I had better news.’
Amelia shook her head. ‘You’ve been very diligent, Mr Guthry. Thank you for everything you have done.’
‘There’s one more thing, miss. One of the locals told him they’d seen a young woman covered in blood about a week previously. Pointed him in this direction.’
Which explained why McNair had been in the village a few days ago.
‘I’ve spent the last few days travelling backwards and forward between the local villages, trying to pick up his trail again, but he’s disappeared.’
‘Thank you, Mr Guthry, you’ve been very thorough,’ Edward said.
‘My pleasure, Sir Edward. I only wish I had better news.’
‘I have another request, Mr Guthry, if you don’t mind.’
The portly man nodded, his face serious and his demeanour showing he was ready to do whatever was asked of him.
‘Miss Amelia’s cousin is currently residing in London. I won’t go into details, but she has assumed Miss Amelia’s identity for a few weeks. We are concerned that there is a small chance she may be in danger from McNair due to her relationship with Miss Amelia.’
‘I’ll travel to London straight away,’ Mr Guthry said.
‘It would be enough to send a trusted associate,’ Edward said. ‘We may well need you here in the next couple of weeks.’
‘I have a young assistant who is much faster on a horse and would be honoured to assist us in this matter,’ Mr Guthry said, ‘I will ensure he sets out as soon as I return.’
‘Thank you,’ Amelia said, taking Mr Guthry’s hand and squeezing it warmly. ‘Here are the details he will need to find Lizzie and this is a letter outlining the circumstances for her.’ She handed over the envelope and the name and address of her aunt in London.
Edward showed Mr Guthry out, asking his steward to return in a day or two to discuss estate business, but for now he knew he needed to check Amelia was not too shaken by Guthry’s account.
Amelia was slumped in one of the comfortable armchairs he had moved himself from his rooms in the West Wing to his newly re-opened study.
‘Amelia...’ he began, not sure where to start.
‘I’m a terrible person,’ she wailed, taking Edward by surprise. He had expected fear, uncertainty, maybe even gratitude for the confirmation she wasn’t a murderess, but not this.
‘You’re not a terrible person.’
She levelled him with a black look and Edward had to contain a sigh. He had thought Amelia’s dramatic outbursts were a thing of the past. He glanced a little wistfully at the pile of simple, undramatic papers on his desk before turning his attention back to Amelia.
‘I am a terrible person. I wished him dead,’ she whispered this last part. ‘I wished that I had killed him. Even when I saw him with my own eyes I wished McNair dead.’
Edward collapsed in the armchair opposite her and regarded the woman in front of him for a minute. His instinct was to flee, to leave her to work through this dilemma on her own, but something kept him in the chair. He knew all about guilt, about punishing oneself for things that were not your fault. He knew how it could eat away at a person, strip them of hope of happiness and make them question their reasons for living.
‘The man tricked you, stole away your innocence, struck you and threatened your life. Show me a hundred people McNair has injured like you and I’ll show you a hundred people who wished him dead.’
‘But for weeks I’ve hated myself for killing him...’ Amelia paused and then corrected herself. ‘Well, thinking that I’d killed him.’
‘And if you didn’t show remorse for your actions I would be much more concerned I was sheltering a monster,’ Edward said, trying to inject some joviality into the room.
‘Do you think I’m a monster?’ Amelia asked quietly, her face pale and her lips trembling.
Edward silently cursed his choice of words and resisted the temptation to lever himself out of his chair and take her hand. Amelia was the sort of woman who stirred a man’s protective side, but it wasn’t his place to comfort her. He had promised to shelter her, to provide her somewhere safe to stay whilst she worked out what to do, and he would even go so far as to protect her from the cad that had seduced and betrayed her, but he could not allow himself to go any further than that. If he took her hand, well, Edward didn’t want to think of how his body might react and that would lead to the now familiar feelings of grief and self-reproach. So instead he remained where he was, but spoke softly and kindly.
‘You’re not a monster, Amelia. You’re a wonderful, fun, kind person who was treated very badly by that scoundrel
. It is human nature to want him punished, just as it is human nature to regret actions taken on the spur of the moment.’
‘I’m scared, Edward. What does he want from me?’
Edward was all too aware of what McNair wanted from Amelia. In all likelihood he wanted to hurt her as she had hurt him, wound her pride just as his had been wounded.
‘It doesn’t matter what he wants, he’s not going to find you.’
Amelia bit her lip and nodded unconvincingly.
‘He’s not going to find you, Amelia. You have to believe that.’
‘But he was right here, in the village.’
‘That was three days ago. If he’d picked up your trail, if he knew you were here with me, then he would have made his move by now.’
She looked as though she were digesting that piece of information, weighing it up and looking for flaws.
‘He’s not going to give up.’
Edward had to agree with her there. He didn’t know the man, but he’d come across plenty like him in his time. McNair wouldn’t rest until Amelia had paid for her attack on him.
‘It doesn’t matter. He has no idea where you are and by now he would have moved on, somewhere further away.’
‘I’ll always have to be looking over my shoulder.’
Edward grimaced. She was right, her life would be spent waiting for McNair to catch up with her.
‘I don’t know what to do, Edward.’
‘Stay here with me, at least for a while longer,’ he said with authority. ‘Write to your father, explain exactly what has happened and ask for his assistance.’
As soon as the words were out of his mouth Edward found himself gawping. He had never meant to ask her to stay a while longer.
‘Run back to India?’
Something inside him wanted to withdraw the invitation for her to stay with him whilst she awaited her father’s reply, it had been issued spontaneously without him fully thinking through the consequences, but he kept quiet. Amelia was alone and in danger, he couldn’t be the man to turn her out into the world. And after all it was only a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, and then Beechwood Manor would become his private sanctuary again.
She looked down at him with those piercing blue eyes, an uncharacteristic uncertainty behind them.
‘I can stay here, with you, until my father sends for me?’
‘I suppose I have the space for you,’ Edward said.
Amelia launched herself out of the chair and into his arms. After his initial shock Edward found himself instinctively embracing her, pulling her closer. She was warm and soft and inviting and as Edward held her in his arms he felt his heart begin to hammer faster in his chest.
‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ Amelia said, pulling away a little.
Their eyes met and Edward felt a spark fly between them, but then Amelia looked away, stiffening slightly. She stood, gave a hurried little curtsy, something she’d never done before in his presence, and fled the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Amelia read through the letter to her father one last time, grimaced and then signed her name. She was glad she wouldn’t be there to see his reaction first hand. No doubt he would curse and shout when he read she wasn’t in London finding herself a well-to-do husband.
Dearest Papa,
I hope you are keeping well. I miss you and find myself wishing I could be back in the hills of Bombay, awaiting the first of the monsoon rains with you. Do you remember when Mama was still alive and we would sit on the veranda watching the first heavy drops hit the dusty ground? I can still smell that earthy scent Mama used to love so much as if it were yesterday.
Papa, I’m so ashamed to have to write this, but I need your help. I’m in trouble and, although I know you will be angry and disappointed, you are the only person I can turn to. On arriving in London I did a silly thing: I asked Lizzie to assume my identity for a few days whilst I travelled on to Brighton alone.
I don’t know if you remember Captain McNair from the regiment in Bombay, but I am ashamed to admit I was a little infatuated with him. I thought ours would be a wonderful reunion after the time we spent together last year, but I judged him wrongly.
After travelling down to Brighton to find Captain McNair I discovered he had been married all the time I had known him in India. He was planning on seducing me, convincing me to run away with him and then extorting money from you for my scandal-free return. Only the intervention of his commanding officer saved me from my fate and McNair was sent home to his ailing wife.
When I found this out on arriving in Brighton I threatened to expose him as a scoundrel and things got a little heated. I did something awful, Papa. I stabbed him with a letter opener.
Now I do not know what to do. I am currently staying with a gentleman by the name of Sir Edward Gray. He is sheltering me from McNair, who I think will be seeking revenge. I regret my actions every minute of every day, but I am scared of what McNair will do to me.
Papa, I know I have been foolish and I know I have been selfish, but I truly need your help.
I was hoping you might be able to find a way to organise a passage back to India. If I could come home to you, I promise to try and be a more docile and obedient daughter.
Please help me, Papa.
I love you and miss you.
Amelia
Folding the letter, Amelia then slipped it into an envelope and wrote the address on the front before making her way to the kitchens to find how Goody was getting on with the favour she’d asked of her.
Amelia hovered around the kitchen whilst Goody bustled backwards and forward, chatting away at the same time. It was relaxing being in here with Goody. The woman was content to carry out a conversation with just the minimum of prompting, allowing Amelia’s mind to wander but without her being able to focus too long on one thing.
‘We’ve got jams, fresh bread, a fruit cake and some pickles. I think the tenants will be delighted with the hampers.’
Amelia peered inside, wondering if it was a good idea to spend the entire day out and about with Edward. She wanted to do something to say thank you, to show she appreciated him letting her stay whilst she awaited a reply from her father, but maybe an activity that threw them together all day was not the best idea. She hated to admit that she yearned for him, when he wasn’t close by she missed him physically.
She wanted him to look at her the way he looked when he spoke of his late wife and son, that adoration, that eternal love, but it was clear that would never happen. Over the past week Edward had opened up a little, shown her more of his real self, and Amelia had just found herself wanting him even more, but today she would suppress all those feelings and focus on being a good guest and friend.
Once Goody indicated everything was ready Amelia gathered up the baskets and thanked the older woman for all her hard work. Whatever she felt for Edward she still wanted to say thank you to him for letting her stay. She’d seen the regret and wistfulness in his face a few days previously when he’d talked of how he had neglected his tenants and this was an area where Amelia could excel.
She loved entertaining and meeting new people. She was naturally confident and outgoing, whereas Edward was more reserved. He might struggle to approach the tenants he’d neglected for so long on his own, but he would feel increasingly guilty the longer he left it. Amelia thought she could help smooth the way and take some of the awkwardness out of the situation.
‘Knock-knock,’ Mr Guthry said as he peered round the kitchen door and smiled sheepishly as he caught sight of the two women.
‘Mr Guthry, what a pleasant surprise. I had no idea we were expecting you today.’ Although Amelia greeted him warmly she felt a ball of dread settle in her stomach.
‘I just popped by to discuss a few pieces of business with Sir Edward,�
� Mr Guthry said. ‘He was eager to go through some new acquisitions.’ He caught Amelia’s worried expression and hastened to reassure her, ‘I have no more news on that front, Miss Amelia, but you try not to fret. Sir Edward will look after you.’
‘He will indeed.’
Goody patted Amelia on the arm and Amelia rallied. They were right, she couldn’t go thinking the worst every time there was a visitor to the house.
‘And my young associate is heading to London as we speak, ready to seek your cousin out and warn her of the potential danger she could be in.’
‘Thank you, Mr Guthry.’
‘My pleasure, Miss Amelia, I am truly delighted to be of service.’
‘Would you like a drink, Mr Guthry?’ Goody asked.
‘Oh, that would be very kind, Mrs Henshaw, if it isn’t too much trouble.’ He paused and then pressed on. ‘And maybe one of those delicious biscuits, if there are any left from the other day.’
‘I’ll see what I can do, Mr Guthry.’
Amelia watched as Goody fussed around the older man, pulling him out a stool and pouring him a cup of tea. Once a plate of biscuits was set on the table Goody took a seat opposite the land agent.
‘I do declare these are the finest biscuits I’ve ever tasted,’ Mr Guthry said as he devoured a buttery shortbread. ‘And as you can probably tell I’ve tasted a fair few in my time.’
He patted his ample midsection and eyed up the plate.
‘Go ahead and take another, Mr Guthry,’ Goody said warmly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a man with a healthy appetite.’
‘I do believe you have a magical touch when it comes to baking, Mrs Henshaw. The fruitcake you sent me home with the other day was just divine. I have to confess I’ve polished it off already.’
Goody’s cheeks shone at the compliment and Amelia wondered how many times Mr Guthry had come to visit the widowed housekeeper in the past few days. It was obvious he had a soft spot for her baking, but she had a feeling there might be something deeper pulling him back to the kitchen at Beechwood Manor.