Heiress On The Run

When another minute had passed without Amelia explaining or letting him up Edward began to feel the damp from the ground soaking into his trousers.

‘Will you tell me what’s going on, woman?’ he asked, quietly but firmly.

Amelia’s eyes widened with shock and fear and immediately Edward regretted his tone of voice.

‘Come, let’s stand up,’ he said more softly.

Amelia allowed him to help her to her feet, although he noticed she did not step back out on to the road, and her restraining hand on his arm stopped him from doing so too. For an instant Edward missed the warmth of her body as it had been pressed against his, but soon the feeling was replaced by irritation. The woman was crazy. First darting behind the clock tower and now wrestling him to the ground whilst they waited for the stagecoach.

‘Is he still there?’ Amelia hissed.

‘Who?’

She didn’t answer so Edward stepped forward and looked up and down the lane. It was completely empty. Maybe there was something not quite right in Amelia’s head. She seemed normal, if not conventional, most of the time, but then she went and did things like this. Then he remembered the blood-soaked clothes and the state Amelia had been in the night before and softened slightly. Something bad had occurred in Amelia’s life recently. That must be what was driving this fear.

‘There’s no one there.’ Edward wondered if this was another of Amelia’s time-wasting ploys, but the terror in her eyes convinced him otherwise.

Warily Amelia edged forward, peering out from the bushes until she was satisfied they were alone.

‘I think you should tell me what’s going on,’ Edward said, in a voice that brooked no argument.

Amelia shook her head, tears forming in her eyes and spilling out to roll down her cheeks. Edward almost reached out to brush them away, but he stopped himself. It was an intimate gesture, too intimate. He couldn’t believe he’d even contemplated it.

‘Who did you think you saw?’

Again Amelia shook her head, still glancing furtively up and down the road.

Edward ran his hands through his hair and studied the young woman who stood before him. She was petrified, that much was clear. He didn’t know if her demons were real or imaginary, but he did have experience with living with events he’d rather forget.

His brain screamed to let her go, to get back to his reclusive existence, but his heart recognised another wounded soul. He wanted to leave, to walk off down the road without as much as a backwards glance, but something was holding him back. Edward even tried placing one foot in front of another, but his body just wouldn’t obey his commands. Something sparked inside him, something that he thought was long dead and buried. He wasn’t sure if it was compassion or pity, but he realised he didn’t have it in him to abandon Amelia here in such a state of dread. For years he might have suppressed his humanity through lack of interaction, but he’d been brought up to be kind and chivalrous and there were a few strands of those characteristics that refused to leave him despite years of disuse.

‘Amelia, look at me.’ He grasped her by the arms and turned her to face him. She looked distractedly around her. ‘I will make you a bargain,’ he said.

This caught her attention.

‘You tell me exactly what is going on, what trouble you’re in, and I promise to help you as much as I can.’

She shook her head, ‘I can’t.’

‘Then you’re on your own.’

Edward had only taken two steps before he felt her clutching at his sleeve.

‘Please don’t leave me here.’

It would be so easy to give in to her beseeching eyes, but Edward knew he had to stand strong.

‘Then tell me what has you so scared.’

‘I’ve done something terrible,’ Amelia said quietly.

He looked at her youthful, innocent face, and wondered what it was she could have done that was making her quite so worried.

‘What?’

He watched as her whole body began to tremble. With difficulty she rallied, squeezing her eyes tight for a few seconds before looking up at him with an expression full of pain and regret.

‘I’ve killed a man.’

Chapter Four (#u981fc757-1101-5e08-b40e-e95f7a2f510a)

Amelia sank back into the comfortable, worn armchair and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She felt exhausted, even though it wasn’t yet midday. For the duration of the trip out to the village she had been petrified, in a state of high alert, seeing danger where there was none and ready to flee at the slightest provocation.

When she’d leaped into the bushes at the side of the road, taking Edward with her, she really had thought someone was looking for her. A tall, serious man with an official-looking uniform had started walking down the lane towards them and Amelia had been convinced this man had tracked her across the South Downs and was here to take her away to face justice. When she’d pointed him out to Edward on their return dash through the village he’d actually laughed before telling her he was the local postman.

After her confession Edward had gone quiet, studied her for some time, then started to lead her back through the village.

‘We’ll talk back at the house,’ he’d said and hardly uttered a word after that.

Amelia wondered if she should be scared. He might be summoning the local magistrate right now, eager to hand over the murderer sitting in his cosy armchair and be done with the drama she had brought into his life. Although she hardly knew the man, Amelia couldn’t find it in herself to be overly worried. He seemed fair and honourable, and she thought he would at least give her the chance to explain the circumstances before deciding what to do with her.

‘Whisky,’ Edward said as he entered the room, ‘and biscuits, it’s been quite a morning.’

Amelia watched as he poured out two glasses of whisky and handed her one. Cautiously she sniffed the rich, caramel-coloured liquid before taking a gulp.

‘Careful,’ he cautioned.

She felt the wonderful burn in her throat followed by a warm sensation in her stomach and felt herself relax a little.

‘Not the first time you’ve had whisky?’

She shook her head. ‘Back home in India the soldiers were always happy to share.’

‘So you actually did grow up in India?’

‘I’ve lived there my whole life. Until I disembarked the ship a week ago I’d never been to England before.’

‘I think you should start at the beginning,’ Edward said quietly. ‘Tell me everything and then we will decide what is to be done.’

Amelia felt herself complying with his order and bristled. She didn’t like being told what to do and especially not by a man who she barely knew, but there was something authoritative about his tone, something that promised to sort things out, that made her relax back into the chair and do as he suggested.

She wasn’t quite sure where the beginning was. In all honesty she probably would have to start far back in her childhood to make complete sense, but she felt Edward might lose patience if she began recalling the details of her mother’s death and the emptiness that followed. He wasn’t a man to hide his irritation.

‘Two years ago I met a man out in India. My father is a retired colonel and he still has much to do with the army and the officers stationed in India. He hosted a ball and it was there I met Captain McNair.’

Amelia didn’t confess how she’d been swept off her feet immediately by his easygoing manner and charming façade. She had been bored, tired of the same routine day in and day out, and she’d been ripe for a seduction.

‘We met in secret, in the months following the ball, and after a few meetings McNair professed his love for me.’