Heiress on the Run

by Laura Martin

  ‘Tell me about India,’ he said as they started a gentle descent towards the chalky cliffs.

  Amelia briefly closed her eyes and summoned a picture of home. When she felt scared or alone often she would picture she was sitting on the veranda of their house just outside Bombay, drinking a cool drink and fanning herself in the heat. From the veranda you could see the rolling green hills, thick with foliage, and the wonderfully blue sky above.

  ‘I didn’t realise England would be so completely different to India,’ Amelia said eventually. ‘Out there everything is bright and warm. There’s no wind like this and when the rains come there’s something almost magical about them. It’s as though you’re waiting for something to burst, a release, and suddenly the monsoon is there.’

  Edward listened quietly and Amelia smiled as she remembered.

  ‘I was so shocked when we disembarked our ship in London, I’d never seen anything like it before. The noise and the dirt and the sheer number of people.’

  ‘But there are cities in India.’

  ‘Father wasn’t keen on me visiting the cities, or even the larger towns. He thought it was dangerous, even though I’ve never once felt threatened by anyone in India the way I have here. My world was made up of the sleepy little villages close to our home, the army base down the road and the small British community that lived nearby.’

  ‘It sounds rather idyllic.’

  ‘I didn’t think so at the time. In fact, I couldn’t wait to leave.’

  ‘And now? Do you regret coming to England?’

  Amelia considered the question. There was so much to regret: foolishly chasing after Captain McNair, losing control in his house, her need to live in fear now.

  ‘No.’ Quite simply if she hadn’t come to England she wouldn’t have met Edward and she wouldn’t be here right now. ‘I needed this,’ she said. ‘In India I was spoiled and bored. I caused havoc and I fear I was on a path to self-destruction.’

  Amelia could see the problems with her behaviour now and she knew something had needed to change.

  ‘I miss my home, and I miss my father, but I do not regret coming here.’

  She glanced over at Edward, saw the small smile on his face and realised how much her answer meant to him. He didn’t want her to be unhappy, even if it wasn’t in his power to do much about it.

  They had reached the cliff edge and Amelia gazed out to sea. Far from the brilliant blue waters she had seen during her voyage to England the sea here was moody and dark, a reflection of the clouds gathering above, but it was just as beautiful, just as striking, as the clear, calm waters of the Indian Ocean.

  ‘It’s rather dramatic,’ Amelia commented, taking in the climbing white cliffs backed by rolling green hills and the crashing sea down below.

  ‘Shall we go down?’ Edward asked.

  He helped Amelia to dismount, tied up the horses and led her down a narrow rocky path.

  ‘You’ve been here before.’

  ‘As a boy this was where my father would always bring me when we spent the day together. I know these paths as well as I know the hallways in Beechwood Manor.’

  Amelia stumbled suddenly and Edward was immediately at her side. He took her hand to steady her, checking she was unhurt before leading her further down the path.

  They reached the beach, a deep cove cut into the chalky rock face covered in large grey-and-brown pebbles. In front of them, close to the sea, was a narrow strip of sand leading round the cliffs in both directions.

  ‘Where’s the rest of the sand?’ Amelia asked, frowning.

  Edward laughed. ‘This is a pretty generous amount of sand for beaches around here. Most just have pebbles and shingle. I’m sure it isn’t anything as beautiful as the beaches in India.’

  Amelia shook her head, ‘It’s more atmospheric.’

  And she meant it. As she looked out to sea she could feel the salt on her face and the spray in the air. Here the coast was dramatic and almost alive. The sea looked powerful and even a little menacing, and Amelia knew nothing could entice her in for a swim.

  ‘Shall we bathe?’ Edward asked.

  She realised he was joking just before he grinned, took her by the arm and pulled her closer to where the water was crashing into the sand.

  ‘Can we head around the cliffs?’

  Edward paused as if calculating something. ‘You have to be careful not to be caught by the tide, but it’s still on its way out so we should have an hour or two before it starts coming back in.’

  With her hand tucked into the crook of Edward’s elbow Amelia allowed him to lead her down the beach and round the base of the cliff. Here the strip of sand stretched along ahead of them for half a mile before disappearing as the cliff jutted out.

  They walked until they reached a small cove bathed in the sunlight that was peeking through the clouds. Edward laid out the blanket he’d brought with them and set the basket Goody had prepared for them down in the middle.

  Amelia watched as he sat down, pulled off his boots and socks and then sank his toes into the grainy sand. She giggled.

  ‘Try it,’ Edward said. ‘It feels like freedom.’

  Obligingly Amelia sat beside him and kicked off her boots, then paused.

  ‘I won’t peek.’

  She looked at him with his eyes closed, face turned up to the sun, and wished he would.

  Slowly Amelia peeled off her stockings, wriggled her toes and pressed them into the sand. He was right, it did feel like freedom.

  * * *

  As Edward lay with the sun warming his face he realised he felt content. For once everything felt good in the world. Mrs Henshaw had, of course, been right, he had needed to put things right with Amelia. These past two weeks had been uncomfortable and lonely, and he’d hated seeing her hopeful face fall every time he barely acknowledged her as they passed each other. The only time he had felt at least a little useful during the past fortnight was when he’d dashed in every night to hold Amelia as she sobbed in her sleep. She was still experiencing the nightmares about McNair. Edward had been hopeful they might dissipate once she knew the scoundrel was alive, but every night she was terrified by reliving the events in the Captain’s house. Edward found himself anticipating the moment he got to wrap his arms around her sleepy body and comfort her whilst she calmed into a deep slumber. He didn’t want to examine exactly what this meant, but for now it was enough to know his presence calmed her.

  ‘Can we paddle?’ Amelia asked.

  Edward opened his eyes and looked up at her from his position reclined on the rug. As usual she was restless, eager to be moving about.

  ‘It’ll be cold.’

  ‘Are you too much of a coward?’

  ‘You injure me, Amelia.’ Edward said, with mock indignation. He stood, pulled Amelia to her feet and without relinquishing her hand pulled her towards the sea. ‘Mind you don’t get your skirts wet, otherwise I’ve no doubt you’ll moan the entire way home.’

  Quickly he dodged as Amelia swatted him. As they neared the sea Amelia slowed.

  ‘Are you regretting your challenge?’

  ‘Of course not. How cold can it be?’

  He wondered if she were imagining the beautiful warm waters of the Indian Ocean back home.

  ‘Promise not to scream.’

  She looked at him with defiance in her eyes, hitched up her skirts to reveal slender honey-coloured calves and dashed at the sea.

  Edward laughed out loud as she uttered a string of expletives no young lady should even be aware of. She was out of the water in seconds, looking at him reproachfully. It felt good to laugh again. Out here, away from the memories of Beechwood Manor, Edward felt some of his light-heartedness returning after years of being locked away. Maybe once in a while it wasn’t so bad to enjoy himself, to smile or fee
l pleasure in someone’s company.

  ‘I did warn you.’

  ‘Not nearly well enough. That was really cold. My toes still hurt.’

  ‘So you don’t fancy a swim?’

  ‘I’m not crazy, so, no.’

  ‘I used to swim here all the time with my father, whatever the weather,’ Edward said.

  ‘Please don’t let me stop you,’ Amelia said, smiling sweetly.

  ‘I think I’ll just dip my toes,’ Edward said, walking into the shallow water.

  It was cold, so cold he felt his toes begin to go numb after about thirty seconds, but it was bracing and refreshing at the same time. The coldness gave him an unusual clarity, and, as he stood looking out into the grey foaming sea, he found himself wondering whether he’d judged things wrong over the past few years.

  Turning back towards the cliffs, Edward returned to where the water just lapped on the sand and placed Amelia’s hand in the crook of his elbow. For a while they just walked along together side by side, Edward allowing the small waves to surge over his feet whilst ensuring Amelia was always out of their reach.

  As they got to the end of the cove they continued along the sand at the base of one of the high chalky cliffs. Edward realised he was wishing they could just carry on walking arm in arm for eternity, that way he wouldn’t have this uncertainty about his decisions to face up to.

  ‘Do you think Mr Guthry’s man will return soon?’ Amelia asked.

  As Edward turned to look at her he realised how preoccupied with worry she was. He’d been so absorbed in his own concerns he hadn’t even realised Amelia was thinking about her cousin so much.

  ‘I’m sure he will. I do not know what has delayed him or any message from your cousin, but if there was bad news we would surely have heard by now.’

  Amelia nodded and looked at least a little reassured by his words.

  ‘I sent the letter to my father last week,’ Amelia said as they strolled along. ‘But I think it will be a while until he receives it and replies.’

  Edward was just about to answer, to assure her nothing had changed and that she was welcome at Beechwood Manor for as long as she needed when there was a rumble from up above them. He looked up, frowning, but there was nothing to be seen.

  ‘We should move away from the cliff,’ he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the heavy rock above them. Rock-falls were common on this part of the coastline and he didn’t want either of them to have their skulls caved in by a chunk of falling chalk.

  ‘If you’ve changed your mind, I can find somewhere else to stay whilst I await his reply,’ Amelia said.

  Edward heard the anguish and uncertainty in her voice and momentarily took his eyes off the cliff above them to study her face.

  ‘There’s...’ he began, but paused as there was another loud bang from over their heads. Edward looked up and his eyes widened as he saw the chunk of chalky cliff plummeting down towards them. Instinctively he pushed Amelia back against the cliff face, knowing she was unlikely to get hit there, then pushed his body against hers meaning to protect her from the worst of the falling rock.

  He heard Amelia scream and then a bolt of pain shot through his head before the darkness descended.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Amelia screamed. She couldn’t help herself. Then the scream was cut off as she watched Edward totter and collapse to the ground. There was a nasty gash in his forehead, and a steady stream of blood oozed from the wound and stained the sand.

  ‘Edward,’ Amelia whispered as she crouched down beside him.

  He was dead, she was sure of it. His face was deathly pale and he wasn’t moving at all. Amelia felt the despair and sorrow begin to overwhelm her and the sobs started to rack her body. She buried her head in Edward’s chest and tried to will him back to life.

  She couldn’t lose him, even if he wasn’t really hers to lose. Suddenly Amelia realised quite what Edward had come to mean to her over the past few weeks and felt an overwhelming sickness at the thought of never hearing his voice or seeing his smile again.

  Just as she was about to become hysterical something made her sit up and pause for a moment. She’d already had a similar experience, convinced a man was dead when he was just badly injured. With a silent plea Amelia placed her ear to Edward’s chest and listened. She almost cried with relief when she heard the steady beating of his heart and felt his chest gently rising and falling with each breath.

  Open your eyes and I promise never to annoy you again, Amelia pleaded silently. Just open your eyes, Edward, please.

  For some time she just sat beside him, stroking his hair and willing him to open his eyes and wake up. She wasn’t sure how long he might be unconscious for, but she thought she’d heard somewhere people could remain unresponsive for days.

  * * *

  After what must have been almost an hour Amelia shifted slightly, stretching her legs out, but not relinquishing Edward’s hand. With a shout of surprise Amelia turned to see the sea lapping at her feet. The bottom of her dress was soaking up the seawater and the icy water covering her toes. For a moment the implications of this didn’t sink in, but slowly Amelia realised the tide had turned. The sea was on its way in.

  ‘Edward!’ Amelia shouted, shaking him by the shoulders. ‘Wake up.’

  No response.

  ‘Edward, please wake up. The sea’s coming in.’

  He lay peacefully on the sand, his unconscious body not bothered by the approaching water.

  Amelia stood, grabbed him under his arms and started to drag him across the wet sand back towards where they had left the picnic things. As she inched along she felt the first drops of rain splatter her and murmured a few uncomplimentary phrases about the English weather.

  By the time they’d moved three steps Amelia’s muscles were already screaming and her breath coming in laboured gasps.

  Wake up, Edward, she begged, glancing back over her shoulder to see just how far she had to drag him. It seemed an impossible distance and for a moment Amelia felt despair crashing down on her. If only she’d told him how she felt when he was still alive and well.

  Gritting her teeth, Amelia tightened her grip and continued along the beach. She would not give up, not whilst there was still a chance of saving him.

  * * *

  After a further fifteen minutes Amelia had managed to pull Edward’s body halfway back to the cove, but during that time the sea had advanced and now her every step was hampered by about three inches of water. Edward was soaked and Amelia could feel the wet material of her skirts dragging against her legs.

  Despite all this, and despite her aching muscles, Amelia never gave up. She was under no illusion that if she didn’t push on Edward would die. The tide would come in and the water would cover his supine form and Edward would drown just a couple of feet from the cliffs. On and on she pulled him, covering the ground inch by inch, minute by minute. Every time she paused to catch her breath Amelia was aware of time ticking away and the ever-rising water. Soon the water was above her ankles and then halfway up to her knees, slowing their progress even further.

  With her breath coming in short gasps Amelia paused for just a moment and then with a loud roar born out of effort and fear Amelia dragged Edward’s body up into the cove and out of reach of the sea, at least for now. Immediately she collapsed down on to the sand, one arm flopping across Edward’s chest to check he was still breathing.

  Amelia lay there whilst her heart stopped pounding and her muscles recovered. She didn’t want to sit up, to have to examine Edward’s pale face again and wonder if he would ever open those bewitching, kind eyes again. All the time she had been dragging him along the beach she hadn’t had any energy left to think, but now she could feel all the worry and the panic mounting up inside her.

  He couldn’t be dead, not Edward. Not the
man who’d saved her and comforted her and allowed her to completely disrupt his entire life. Not before she told him how she truly felt about him.

  Over the past few weeks as she had slowly got to know the man behind the grief and the gruff mask Amelia had often wondered if he would have preferred to have been taken in the fire with his family. She was sure on many occasions he probably thought he would, but recently she had glimpsed another side to him. Every so often she saw a glimmer of hope, a flicker of excitement about the future, something that told her that he would fight to stay on this earth.

  ‘Fight for me,’ she whispered.

  Carefully Amelia leaned over and brushed his hair from his eyes, smiling as a wavy lock flopped back almost immediately. She lowered her head further before hesitating, knowing she should not kiss him, but already sure she would not be able to resist. Softly she pressed her lips against his, feeling the tears form in her eyes as she realised this might be the closest she ever got to a real kiss with the man she cared about so much. At first his mouth was cool and unresponsive, but as she began to pull away she felt just a flicker of movement.

  ‘Edward?’ Amelia whispered, sitting back and scrutinising his face.

  Nothing. Amelia hesitated, knowing deep down that a kiss didn’t make any difference to an unconscious man...that was just the stuff of fairytales.

  What have you got to lose? she asked herself.

  She kissed him again, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping and wishing for another flicker of a response.

  This time there was no doubt. As she kissed him his lips began to move, drawing her in and taking some of her warmth.

  Edward let out a prolonged groan and as Amelia sat back guiltily as his eyes flickered open. For a moment she could tell everything was unfocused and blurry, but after a few seconds his eyes locked on to hers and he frowned.

  ‘What...?’ he managed to murmur.

  Amelia launched herself at him, reining herself in at the last moment so she embraced him gently. She felt Edward’s hand on her back and had to choke back a cry of relief. He was alive, awake and he could move.