She nodded absentmindedly.
‘Would you prefer to go to Brighton or London?’
Dear Lord, not Brighton, Amelia thought.
‘London. Definitely London.’
‘Do you have any family there?’
Amelia shook her head. It was a lie, but a necessary one. It wasn’t as though she could turn up on her aunt’s doorstep, it would be the first place a magistrate would look for her.
‘How about friends?’
Again Amelia shook her head.
‘Where are your family?’
She sensed Edward was starting to feel a modicum of responsibility for her. He might not want to let her stay in his strange house, but he wanted to make sure she was safe all the same.
‘India.’
‘Ah. I see.’ He paused for a few seconds. ‘Surely you didn’t come over here on your own?’
Amelia stopped walking and waited for Edward to turn.
‘I’m out of your house and soon I’ll be out of your life,’ she said coolly. ‘After today you will never have to think of me again. I have no friends or family in this country, but as you have made clear, that is not your concern.’
She saw the flicker of hurt in Edward’s eyes and for a moment she felt remorse. Her cousin Lizzie always said she had a sharp tongue and Amelia knew she often spoke before she’d had chance to think through what impact her words might have. Edward was kind, for all his brusque manner, and he had taken her in for the night when others might have thrown her out. It wasn’t his fault she was in such a mess, but she was just wishing for a reprieve, a few days to decide what to do with her life, and Edward couldn’t give that to her.
‘Come on,’ he said stiffly and began walking again.
Amelia watched his back for a few seconds before hurrying to catch up. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders, a strong man. He emanated power and Amelia found herself wishing to be enveloped in his arms, pressed up against his chest and kept safe.
Trying to suppress the thought as she drew level with him, Amelia risked a sidelong glance. In his own way he was handsome, she supposed, although not in the same way McNair had been handsome. Edward had strong features and kind eyes, but he had a slightly wild look about him with his tousled hair and creased shirts. McNair had always been beautifully presented, but thinking back there was a coldness about him, a calculating, detached look on his perfectly symmetrical face.
* * *
After ten minutes they reached the outskirts of the village, with a few simple cottages appearing on either side of the lane. Amelia felt herself instinctively hunch her shoulders, trying to appear less conspicuous. Although there wasn’t anyone around at the moment, she felt nervous and frightened all at the same time.
The small cottages gave way to bigger dwellings once they reached the village proper and as they turned on to the high street Amelia froze. People were milling about, women walking arm in arm and talking, men going about their business with purpose. Beside her Amelia felt Edward go still at the same moment she did and she wondered fleetingly how long it had been since he’d visited the village.
All thoughts about Edward’s lifestyle were swept away as he took her arm and guided her down the high street. People were looking at them strangely, a couple of women actually pointed and stared, and Amelia knew it would only be a matter of seconds until some officer of the law clamped his hand on her shoulder and hauled her off to face the consequences of her crime.
As they reached the clock tower that stood proudly in the middle of the village square Amelia caught a glimpse of a smartly dressed man coming out of a small shop. He looked out of place in this small village, his clothes were too well tailored, his hair too well groomed. It was obvious from a single glance he was an outsider.
With a pounding heart Amelia grasped Edward’s arm and pulled him behind the clock tower, squeezing her eyes shut as she did so, wishing she could just will the well-groomed man away.
‘Amelia?’ Edward asked, his voice a mixture of concern and irritation. He probably thought she was just trying to waste more time.
‘Shh,’ she hissed.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Everyone’s looking at us.’
Edward chuckled, the first real laugh Amelia had heard him utter.
‘Do you think it might be because you’re acting so strangely?’
Amelia opened her eyes and looked up into Edward’s face, frowning.
‘They’re looking at me,’ she insisted.
He shook his head, a self-deprecating little smile playing on his lips.
‘I think they’re probably looking at me. I am rather notorious. The recluse of Beechwood Manor.’
Amelia paused and glanced out from behind the clock tower. No one was coming for her—in fact, everyone had just returned their attention to whatever it was they’d been doing. Maybe Edward was right, maybe it was him they had all been staring at.
‘What are you afraid of, Amelia?’ Edward asked.
He reached out and touched her gently on the arm and Amelia found herself looking up into his concerned face. Edward had been generous to her, she couldn’t deny it. He’d allowed her to stay and ensured she was warm and dry for the night, but until now she hadn’t really caught more than the occasional glimpse of his kind side. His outward demeanour had always been stern and distant, but right now there was warmth in his eyes, genuine concern and compassion. She sensed this was the man he really was, his true nature, and the gruffness was a wall he erected to keep everyone at bay.
For a moment the rest of the world disappeared, the noise of the villagers going about their daily lives faded into the background and it was just the two of them, hidden in their own little world behind the clock tower. Amelia wondered what it would be like to raise herself up on her toes and kiss Edward, to allow him to fold her in his strong arms and protect her from the world. She felt her body sway slightly, her lips part with anticipation, but just as she began to lean in McNair’s face flashed before her eyes.
The last time she’d kissed a man it had ended in tragedy. She wouldn’t allow it to happen again. She couldn’t be trusted, her instincts had been proven to be wrong before and just the fact that she felt attracted to Edward should be enough to tell her to stay well away.
* * *
Edward saw the moment Amelia’s eyes glazed over and her lips parted. He had been without female company for a long time, but in his youth he’d experienced enough to know when a woman wanted to kiss him. She’d even began to lean in, swaying towards him, but then something had happened. Amelia had stiffened, a look of horror had passed over her face and now she’d backed away to a more respectable distance.
He found himself a little disappointed. He shouldn’t want to kiss this enigmatic little minx, but the idea of tasting her lips, just once, was rather enticing. Before he could stop the thought it had taken hold and all the guilt and feelings of betrayal it conjured up were right there with it. Quickly he balled both his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to try to distract himself. He knew his wife was dead and gone, nothing would ever bring her back, but he owed it to her to honour her memory.
‘Shall we find the stagecoach?’ Amelia said formally once she’d recovered some of her composure.
Edward stepped out from behind the clock tower and waited for Amelia to follow. Before she ventured out into the open square, she checked each direction, her head swivelling this way and that like a skittish horse.
‘There’s no one poised and waiting to attack