Laura Martin - Heiress On The Run

Straightening her back and lifting her chin, Amelia looked Edward directly in the eye and smiled shyly at him.

‘If I stay we could get to know one another better,’ she said, trailing a finger up his arm.

Edward stood completely still, his eyes following the progress of her finger. The heat began to rise in Amelia’s cheeks, but she knew she had to give this her best shot. Humiliation and ruin was nothing compared to being found guilty of murder.

‘I promise I’m very good company.’ She didn’t even really know what that meant, but she’d overheard some of the less virtuous women use the phrase at a regimental party a few years ago.

Edward took her hand, removed it from his arm and let go, allowing it to drop back to her side. His face was stony and devoid of expression and his movements almost stiff. Amelia felt the flood of shame wash over her. In a way it would have been better if he’d laughed, at least then she would have known he wasn’t disgusted by her proposition.

‘It must get lonely, living here all by yourself,’ Amelia said, giving it one last try. She was desperate and she knew she sounded desperate, but she didn’t care. Self-preservation was at the top of her list of priorities, she would have time for embarrassment and regret when she was safe.

‘Come on, otherwise we will miss the stagecoach.’ Edward said, ignoring her last few comments. He didn’t sound angry or disgusted, just tired and worn down, and for a moment Amelia wondered why he was so keen to get rid of her.

Amelia dawdled a little longer, wasting as much time as possible fiddling with the laces on the boots he’d found her and adjusting the bodice of her dress.

Eventually Edward sighed, gripped her arm and led her firmly out of the front door.

It was a cool day, clear and crisp after the storm of the night before. Amelia huddled into the cloak draped around her shoulders and reluctantly allowed Edward to lead her down the sweeping driveway.

‘I could tidy up your garden,’ Amelia said without much hope as they passed another overgrown flowerbed.

‘I like it this way.’

‘No, you don’t.’ No one could. The garden had potential, great potential, and Amelia could see a few years ago it would have looked much different. Someone had lovingly planned and planted, landscaped and tended, but it had fallen into ruin along with the rest of the house.

Edward shrugged again, that infuriating movement he seemed to favour when she challenged him about anything, and continued his steady pace down the driveway. Amelia glanced back at the house and found her heart sinking. Every step they took resulted in her being further away from the place that she’d hoped would be her sanctuary for a few days. She felt like turning and running back inside, slamming the door and locking it shut.

‘The village is only twenty minutes away,’ Edward said as they reached the wrought-iron gates Amelia had squeezed through the night before. ‘If you don’t walk at the pace of a lethargic snail,’ he added under his breath as she lagged behind, dragging her feet.

She watched as he tore some of the overgrown vegetation from the bars of the gates, frowning thoughtfully as he did so. Amelia wondered if he saw the house and gardens as she did, with all the cracks and faults, or if when he looked around he saw the place as it used to be.

As Edward pushed open the gates Amelia felt an icy stab of panic jolt through her body. Inside the estate grounds she felt peculiarly safe and now she was being asked to step over the threshold. Out here, in the wider world, who knew what awaited her.

As if sensing her reticence to step through the gates, Edward paused for a moment and looked at her with his searching brown eyes.

‘The road is clear,’ he said, ‘So unless there’s any further reasons you can’t possibly leave shall we be on our way?’

For a second she almost blurted it all out. It would be a relief to share what had happened with someone, to tell the whole sordid tale. She wondered how Edward would react, if he would respond kindly and calmly, or push her away. Maybe he would let her stay, take pity on her and agree to shelter her from the world. Or maybe he would turn her over to whoever was hunting her down.

Unconsciously she raised a hand to her throat, rubbing the skin of her neck at the thought of a noose tightening around her throat.

‘Nothing,’ she replied eventually. She would be safer if no one else knew what she had done.

‘The coach runs to London in one direction and Brighton the other,’ Edward said, disturbing Amelia from her thoughts.

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.