Twenty
By the time the hack pulled up in front of Tom’s townhome, Amelia was a bundle of nerves. Was she really going to march into his home and confront him? And what if he said yes? What if he actually had killed her father? She couldn’t exactly hold it against him, could she? The man had captured her and drugged her for days on end with the express purpose of selling her for a profit. Tom had rescued her from a fate worse than death, she was certain. But what kind of man could kill another, no matter how detestable that first was?
She climbed awkwardly down from the hack. She shook so fiercely she hardly had control of herself. As the hack drove away, she stared up at Tom’s home, fighting the nausea that churned in her gut, but she had come to a conclusion.
She knew Tom. She knew what was in his heart. He was a good man, a kind man. The man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The question was: would he have her? He’d been acting strange and distant—he hadn’t even said anything when she left to go to his sister’s. She’d expected for him to at least call on her, but she’d heard nary a peep from him.
Well, he couldn’t avoid her any longer. Amelia marched to the front door and knocked loudly. Moments later, the door swung open, only instead of finding Carlisle on the other side, Lord and Lady Leyburn stood there, staring back at her. Amelia might not have found this to be a cause for alarm, except Victoria’s eyes were red and puffy from crying. His lordship’s grave expression confirmed that there was something amiss.
“Victoria?” she said, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. “What is it?”
The couple stepped aside to allow Amelia entry, and closed the door behind her.
“What are you doing here? Where is Tom?” she asked when no one seemed eager enough to offer up any information.
“He’s gone,” Victoria said. “And there’s something you must know. Come, let us sit down.”
“No,” Amelia said. “I cannot wait. You must tell me now what has happened. Where is he?”
“The authorities are on their way,” Fin said. “Tom is suspected in the murder of your father.”
Amelia nodded. “I feared as much.”
Victoria’s brow furrowed. “You did? But how?”
“A certain someone who has a vested interest in seeing me fail hinted at the fact this morning. I don’t know if she knows the truth—goodness, I don’t even know the truth—but she knows who I am, and she knows that a man named Mr. Harding was murdered in his home. I suppose she simply put the rest of the puzzle together herself, since I went missing for a time.”
“Then it’s a good thing we sent Tom on his way when we did,” Fin said, his tone grim.
Amelia’s chest constricted. How long ago did they see him off? Was it too late to catch him?
“Pray,” she pleaded, “when was that?”
“Over a half hour ago,” Victoria confirmed.
A half hour wasn’t so long. Hope welled in her heart. “Is it too late?”
“Too late to what?”
“To tell him…” Amelia hesitated. Was she truly ready to admit it? “To tell him I love him.”
Victoria’s eyes shimmered with tears. “I certainly hope not,” she said. “Carlisle!”
The footman appeared but a moment later. “Yes, my lady?”
“Find Miss St. George a hack post haste, please.”
Even Carlisle couldn’t hide his delight at knowing Amelia was going after Tom. He was smiling widely as he ran out the door.
It seemed like forever before he returned with her conveyance, though the clock on the mantle of the drawing room told her it had truly only been ten minutes. After hurried goodbyes for Lord and Lady Leyburn, she climbed aboard, praying with all her might that Tom would still be in England and not on a boat bound for wherever it was he planned to go.
The hack arrived near the docks nearly a half hour later. Amelia climbed down and thanked the driver, then ran to the first of the large ships. There were many, and it occurred to Amelia that she had no earthly idea which one Tom might be on.
She made her way down the dock, searching faces on and off the ships. He was nowhere to be found. And then, as she neared the end of the pier, she saw it. The large packet just in the distance, as it left the harbor, headed for sea. Her heart sank and despite all the hubbub around her, she dropped to her knees and closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. He was on that one. She just knew it. Now she’d never get to tell him how she felt. She’d never get to say I love you.
She sat there for a few more minutes, feeling defeated, her heart aching, before she finally decided it was time go. Time to let him go.
Amelia came to her feet, looked one last time at the ship as it disappeared in the distance, then turned. And ran smack into a very hard chest.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, and then tried to duck around the person she’d run into. Only the person grabbed onto her arm and wouldn’t let go.
“That’s quite all right,” the man said, and it took a moment for Amelia to realize she knew that voice.
She peered down at the hand, still grasping her arm, and then slowly made her way up the familiar sleeve of navy blue superfine, past a messy cravat, and finally to the face she most wished to see. Tom stared back at her, the light breeze blowing his blond hair about, his green gaze searching her face.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“I-I came to find you,” she replied. “I know what happened.”
“No, you don’t.”
His tone was so final that she doubted her hypothesis for a moment. But if she was wrong, then why was he running?
“I do,” she corrected him, then added, “And I don’t care. As a matter of fact…it’s what I’ve wished for since I was a small child.” She put her hand to his cheek, desperate to make him understand, no matter how painful the memories were. “The man was a monster—”
Tom put a finger to her lips. “Don’t,” he said. “I can surmise the horrors he’s put you through, you don’t have to relive them.”
Amelia swallowed over the lump in her throat. She nodded, grateful to put an end to that particular conversation. “Where will you go?”
“Jamaica.”
Of course. Hadn’t he spoken fondly of his time in the Caribbean before?
Amelia glanced past him at the city she’d fought so hard to make it to. The city that still held promise for her, thanks to Mr. Price. She should have felt drawn to it, eager to return to it.
“You should go home, Amelia,” Tom said, drawing her attention back to his handsome face.
All she could think was, “You are my home.”
It took her a moment to realize she’d said the words out loud, but in the next moment, Tom’s lips met hers, fierce and passionate and hurried. Too hurried.
When he pulled away he took her by the upper arms and stared intently into her eyes. “I’ve been a fool,” he said. “I should have asked you to marry me long ago. One day I’ll tell you why it took me so damned long, but for now, I have a more important request.”
Amelia put her hand to his lips and smiled. “You need not speak the words, my love,” she said, her heart rejoicing as the endearment tripped easily off her tongue. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth.”
He grabbed her by the hand and took off at a run. Amelia was giddy as they approached a large vessel and climbed the gangplank. They didn’t stop until they’d reached the front of the ship, just as the sailors started to shout orders and released the ship from its moorings.
Tom snaked his arms around her midsection, holding her tightly against him. He was warm and strong, and Amelia knew she would never be happier than she was in this moment. She tilted her head up and his lips descended on hers as they sailed together into the sun.
Epilogue
February, 1828
“Tom! Tom!”
Tom looked out the window of his study to see his wife waving frantically at him from the beach as a servant
walked away from her, toward the house. Amelia wore nothing but her chemise and pantaloons, her feet bare in the white sand. In her hand, she held a piece of paper, and Tom could only assume it was the latest correspondence from London.
Glad for the interruption, he stood from his desk and left the house to join his wife. He trekked through the sand, reveling in its powdery warmth, as he made his way to Amelia. She kissed him openly when he arrived before her, and then pulled him down onto her blanket.
“It’s from Victoria,” she said, waving the letter about giddily.
“I assumed as much,” Tom replied as he lay on his back and stared up at the blue sky above. “Go on. Open it.”
Amelia tore at the seal and began to read:
“Dear Tom and Amelia,
“It’s hard to believe nearly a year has passed since the pair of you ran off to what you affectionately refer to as ‘paradise.’ I can’t say I’m not a bit jealous. The weather here continues to be dreadful, though by the time you receive this, spring will most likely be under way.
“Very little has changed since I last wrote. The hospital is running splendidly, and I couldn’t be more proud of the work we are doing there.
“Fin will take his seat in the Lords again next month, though I’m happy to say I won’t be joining him for the Season in London this year. I’m afraid I am too far along with your next niece or nephew to participate in late night soirees…”
Amelia stopped reading and Tom sat upright.
“Another baby!” Amelia squealed.
“Splendid news.” Tom smiled at his bride and kissed her lips before lying back down. “Go on.”
“…The baby is due in July, and I have the strangest feeling it’s going to be a boy. Perhaps when he is old enough we can journey to your side of the world, though I hope one day it will be safe for you both to return to London. Fin is keeping his ear to the ground, and we will inform you as soon as the charges have been dropped.
“I trust it is safe now to speak of Bianca. I do hope so, for she and I have become good friends. Her camp isn’t too far from here, so she calls often (much to the chagrin of the local gentry). She and Emil welcomed their first child into the world just a few months ago. They named him Guaril, of course, after Emil’s closest friend who perished in a fire two years ago.
“Oh, and Mother is doing fine. I don’t see her much, as she prefers to keep the company of her friends in Bath, but she did pay a visit recently to dote on Lily and ask after Tom. I don’t expect I’ll see her again until after the baby is born. She’s not one to dote on me, after all.
“I suppose that is all for now. I will impatiently await your next letter. Your accounts of the island keep me warm here in England, so please make haste in dispatching your next correspondence.
“We miss you both terribly.
“With all our love,
“Victoria, Fin & Lily”
Amelia folded the letter and then lay down next to her husband. He lifted his arm so she could snuggle into the crook and put her head on his chest. He smelled of clean linen and sunshine, which she much preferred over expensive cologne and brandy. A light breeze wafted over them, bringing a bit of sand and a hint of sea spray. Amelia still, after nine months of living in Jamaica, had trouble believing this was her world. She’d been hesitant to give up a life in London, on the stage, but if she had known what awaited her here, she wouldn’t have given even a moment’s hesitation.
Of course, it helped that she had the opportunity to fulfill her dream in a tiny little way here on the island.
She sat up with a start and pecked Tom on the lips. “I’m going inside,” she announced.
Tom wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in place. “Why would you want to go inside on such a glorious day, my love?”
Amelia smiled. She would never tire of those words. “I’m itching to respond to Victoria,” she said. “But I’ll come right back when I’m done. I promise.”
In an instant, Tom had her on her back, his lips pressed against hers. His tongue played with her lips until she opened for him. He deepened the kiss, sending bolts of pleasure right to Amelia’s core, and then he abruptly pulled away and returned to his previous position lying on the blanket.
“Hurry back,” he said, innocently.
Amelia swatted at him. “You are too naughty by half!” She leapt from the blanket and bounded inside to her escritoire.
Dear Victoria,
Tom and I were so delighted to have received your letter today. I must admit that while I love Jamaica dearly, I do miss you and Meg more than words can say.
The weather here continues to be splendid. I never knew how much I loved the sunshine and warmth until I came here. Today, as a matter of fact, is one of the most extraordinary days we’ve seen. I’ve spent the majority of it basking in the sun, and very scantily clad.
But enough about the weather. Last I wrote to you, Tom was in the process of acquiring a delightful little coffeehouse in town, and I’m thrilled to report it is ours! Only it’s so much more than simply a coffeehouse. Tom built me a stage, and twice a month, several of our English friends perform original plays. We write them together and sew the costumes. It is my greatest joy. Well, aside from Tom.
We are both thrilled beyond belief to know we have another niece or nephew on the way! I had hoped to be with child myself by now, though I assure you it’s not from lack of trying. Perhaps I just need to be more patient.
Please give our love to Fin and Lily.
Affectionately yours,
Amelia
“You’re not going to tell her?”
Amelia started at the sound of her husband’s voice so close to her ear. “Good heavens!” She swatted him away. “How long have you been here?”
Tom laughed and pecked Amelia on the cheek. “Long enough to know you didn’t give her the news.”
“It’s still too soon,” she said as she folded the letter. “The next time I write her, I’ll be further along. I’ll feel better sharing then.” She stood from the desk and wrapped her arms around Tom. He pulled her close and she pressed her face against his chest. “Besides, I like having this little secret between us.”
“Then we shall keep it,” Tom said. “Now, I believe you started something on the beach that needs finishing.” He stepped away and took Amelia by the hand. “Come with me, my love.”
Amelia smiled, remembering the words she’d said to him that day at the docks. She still felt the same way. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, my love.”
THE END
Other titles available from
Jerrica Knight-Catania
The Wetherby Brides
A Gentleman Never Tells
More than a Governess
The Wary Widow
The Bedeviled Bride
And Wetherby Short Stories
Christmas Warms the Harts
The Perfect Kiss
About the Author
Jerrica Knight-Catania left her “glamorous” life as an actress in favor of becoming a romance author, where she could write about truly glamorous lives. She currently resides in southeast Florida with her real-life hero of a husband, their shy Russian Blue, Dr. Snuggle, and their beautiful daughter who is most definitely a princess-in-training.
Jerrica loves to hear from readers! You can send her an email at [email protected]
Visit Jerrica’s official website to learn more about her other books, the Wetherby family and to see what’s new in her writing world!
www.jerricasplace.com
http://romancingthebook.wordpress.com/
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The Daring Debutantes Series Boxed Set Page 38