Cinders and Ashes

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Cinders and Ashes Page 6

by King, Rebecca


  Until he arrived in her life, appearing out of nowhere like a gift from the gods, she had never realized just how lonely and dissatisfied she had become with her life, and how much she was missing out on.

  She had been incredibly lucky to have met Sir Hubert and was extremely grateful to have been given the position as housekeeper, but she missed the companionship of someone to share her day with.

  It suited her to be living well away from society, but if she was completely honest she wanted someone at home to talk to. When things were rough; or when she was feeling tired, it would be sheer heaven to be able to sit in front of the fireplace with someone, and share her day.

  Sebastian was recovering steadily. It wouldn’t be too many more days before he was chafing to return home and bring his attackers to justice. A pang of loneliness stole through her at the thought.

  With a shiver of dread, Amelia slowly eased out of the bed, careful not to wake him. Quietly she lit the fire and turned toward the dresser. With having Sebastian to feed, there was now barely enough to provide a meal. Not only did she have to go the village and purchase some food to get them through the next few days, she would have to throw herself on the mercy of Sir Hubert and apologise for her absence over the last few days, without revealing Sebastian’s presence in her cottage.

  Eschewing breakfast, Amelia carefully laid out the last of the bread and cheese on her plate, wishing she had some ham or pie to add to the meagre repast. Reluctantly she added the two remaining apples with a sigh, hoping he would eat slowly.

  Carefully tugging on her cloak and boots, she collected her small pouch of coins from under the bed and quietly left the cottage.

  Until now he hadn’t contemplated just how much solitude Amelia actually lived in, and wondered how she bore it! He was going quietly mad.

  Having woken several hours earlier, it soon became apparent that she would not be returning any time soon. She had selflessly left him the remaining food should he get hungry, but it had tasted like ashes in his mouth. The knowledge that Amelia needed it, but had starved herself to feed him, stripped him of his appetite.

  Briefly he considered pulling his boots on and finding this Sir Hubert himself, to castigate the man on his poor treatment of his loyal housekeeper. Eyeing his boots, he reluctantly accepted the fact that, even if he did have the strength to wrestle them on, he wouldn’t be able to bend down enough to tug them up without causing his ribs more injury. He couldn’t afford any setback. Not now, when he was so close to recovering enough to make the arduous journey home. The quicker he got Amelia out of this hovel, and into the warmth and luxury of Tingdale House, the better.

  Instead, he paced and fumed while waiting helplessly for Amelia to return.

  By the time dusk had surrendered to the onslaught of nightfall, Sebastian was tearing his hair out. He was so angry with her, he could throw something.

  Where the hell was she? Was she alright? Had Ballantyne gotten her? Had she fallen ill? Been robbed?

  He tried to calm his frayed nerves, but as time passed he became increasingly frantic. He tried to reason out various scenarios to explain why she was so late. She was after all, a servant. If she had gone to Sir Hubert, she would be working late into the evening. She may not be back until midnight. The thought made him scowl fiercely.

  He was, by nature, a man of action. Unlike most members of the aristocracy, he didn’t leave the running of his estates to his man of business. Through his hands-on approach, and sound judgement, all of his estates were prospering and, over the course of time, had made him a considerably wealthy man. He grimaced ruefully at that thought.

  Despite all of his wealth, he was now living in abject poverty, eating apples, stale bread and cheese, while the woman who had saved his life toiled from dawn to dusk to make enough pennies to survive.

  Life could truly be harsh to those not as lucky as he, Sebastian mused, his thoughts turning to Amelia once again.

  He was still stewing over his own helplessness, and the unfairness of the circumstances in which Amelia lived, when the latch on the door finally rattled and Amelia entered.

  A muscle ticked in his firm jaw as he watched her stagger through the door carrying two fully laden baskets.

  His anger was briefly set aside while he quickly jumped up from the chair and relieved her of her burden. He didn’t know whether to rant at her for not waking him before she left, or fall to his knees and thank God that she was, at last, back safe and sound.

  Carefully placing the heavy baskets on the worn table, he took a few moments to gather his wayward emotions.

  Why had she gotten such a hold on his affection so quickly? He knew it wasn’t just gratitude for her sacrifices, and saving his life, that was the attraction. He watched as she disappeared back outside and returned moments later with another basket and a further parcel, before kicking the door closed with a thud.

  “Where the hell have you been?” He tried not to shout, he really did. He almost succeeded. Almost. He wished he had kept the words back when he took a careful look at her appearance.

  Despite being outside in the ferocious winds, her cheeks were still pale and untouched by the buffeting of the cold air. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes and a droop to her shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Clearly she was exhausted, and hadn’t slept as well in the bed as he’d hoped.

  All of his anger, fear and concern evaporated in an instant and he dragged her unresisting form tight against his chest. Laying his head against the top of hers, he closed his eyes in relief, and savoured the reassuring feel of her delicate body in his arms as she relaxed against him.

  Amelia found herself standing just inside the doorway, a basket in one hand and a parcel in the other, wrapped securely in Sebastian’s warm embrace. She couldn’t have moved if her life had depended upon it. Leaning wearily against him for several moments, she savoured the wonderful feeling of being cared for.

  After several moments, Sebastian eased away from her and relieved her of her burden, before drawing her over to the fireplace and seating her as though she were a lady about to dine in splendour.

  “I need to empty the baskets,” Amelia murmured, making no attempt to move. Her feet ached; her hands ached; and she had a raging headache, but wouldn’t have changed the welcome she had just received for all of the two pennies left in her pouch.

  “You rest, I’ll do it,” Sebastian ordered softly, and began to unpack.

  Under Amelia’s direction he carefully placed their mound of provisions in their rightful places, and put the wrapped bundle of clothing in her mending basket.

  “So, today you have been from here to the village to purchase provisions, then on to Sir Hubert’s to work, before collecting more mending and finally returning home.” He didn’t need her acknowledgement, and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t correct his assumption.

  Sebastian felt his temper rise again, but given how tired she looked couldn’t chastise her. She was only doing what she had to. He wisely remained quiet, and instead set about preparing her a plate of food. He was wealthy enough to ensure she would never have to spend her days trudging around the countryside, or working from dawn to dusk, ever again.

  He eyed the small mound of food, and carefully assessed the number of days it would last. With any luck they would just have enough before they left for home.

  Amelia didn’t bother nodding, and watched as he placed the now empty baskets by the door. Although he didn’t say anything else, she could tell from the rigid set of his shoulders and the dark scowl on his face that something had angered him considerably. A quick glance around the cottage showed nothing untoward, so what could possibly have happened?

  “Has anyone been by today?” Amelia murmured, eying the pie and cheese Sebastian placed before her. She had briefly had time for some broth in Sir Hubert’s kitchens, but that had been hours ago. She hadn’t realised just how hungry she was until her nose was assailed with the delicious smell of the pie. Without hesitation
, she began to eat.

  “I haven’t seen or heard anyone all day. It has been as quiet as a graveyard. I don’t know how you bear it.”

  Amelia smiled sympathetically. “I don’t really spend any time here during the daytime. I am at Sir Hubert’s all day.”

  “Do you work from dawn to dusk every day?” Sebastian wondered why she didn’t get at least an afternoon off, but wasn’t surprised when she slowly shook her head.

  “Sir Hubert is frail, and cannot fend for himself for too long. I don’t mind really. As you quite rightly point out, it is as quiet as the grave here - almost too quiet at times.”

  She smiled when Sebastian nodded emphatically in agreement, and felt a pang of bittersweet yearning for something indefinable. Putting her plate upon the table, she took a drink and sat back down.

  “I did learn something in the village that might be of use to you.” Her gaze met and held his across the dimness of the room. “I was chatting with Mrs Ellsworthy; a very nice elderly lady but a veritable gossip. Nothing happens in or around Glendowie without Mrs Ellsworthy hearing about it. Anyway, when I asked her if anything had happened lately, she told me there had been a carriage accident on the main road going out of the village last week. On the night I found you.”

  Sensing Sebastian was about to interrupt, she held up a hand and continued. “There was only one man aboard. Mrs Ellsworthy couldn’t tell me much about the man, size or anything, just that there was definitely only one man aboard and he had died of a broken neck. His body is being held in the makeshift mortuary in the church crypt for the time being. Until the road to town becomes passable and they can summon the magistrate.”

  “Damn,” Sebastian murmured with a frown.

  “Why ‘damn’? Surely that is good news?” Amelia frowned, and watched Sebastian pace awkwardly around the room.

  A small pang of disquiet settled about her as she watched him. She briefly wondered if she was going to cry. He had been with her for nearly a week now and already his movements were easier and more natural. His colour was back, and his now purple bruises had diminished considerably. It wouldn’t be long before he was well enough to return home to his family.

  “It’s ‘damn’, because we need to identify whether it is Danvers or Rat in that crypt,” Sebastian murmured. “It is great news if it is Rat. I think Danvers may already have been dead when the horses were running. If it is Danvers in the crypt, then Rat is alive and well, and most probably already on his way back to report to Ballantyne.”

  “He won’t know you have survived though. At least you have that element of surprise on your side, when you return home,” Amelia reasoned, eyeing his long-legged stride as he stormed from one side of the cottage to the other, turned and stomped back again. Clearly the inactivity of the day and the solitude had got to him.

  “I know, but it also means Rat may be out there and close by. If he survived the carriage crash, he may have returned to check I was dead as soon as the weather improved. He would know roughly where I left the carriage, and would have to come back to look for my body.”

  “Which wasn’t there?” Amelia concluded with a shudder.

  Sebastian looked at her, clearly impressed that despite her exhaustion, she was quick thinking enough to be able to reason events out so rationally. She was also practical enough not to get all squeamish about the possible threat right on her doorstep.

  “He will also see the cottage. The only cottage for several miles,” Sebastian added starkly. He didn’t want to scare her, but he didn’t want another day sitting twiddling his thumbs by himself again.

  Amelia felt herself go cold, and sternly lectured herself not to be such a ninny. She had trampled about in the countryside all day, and had not seen anything untoward. No strangers. No strange carriages or people. Nothing.

  “I didn’t see anything today, Sebastian. There was nobody new in the village. I asked Mrs Ellsworthy if there were any survivors of the carriage accident in the Tavern. She reported that the Tavern was completely empty of guests on account of the road being too muddy for carriages to get through.”

  “Which points to the fact that if nobody can get into the village-.” Sebastian was unaware he had actually said the words aloud until Amelia finished his thought.

  “Then nobody can get out either. This means that if Rat survived, he is most probably still in the village somewhere.” Amelia took a deep breath and felt a wave of weariness sweep through her. Stifling a yawn, she was trying to assemble the jumble of her thoughts, when Sebastian appeared in her line of vision.

  “Bed for you, my lady,” he murmured softly cupping her cheek. “You look so tired.”

  Amelia sat enraptured as the soft pad of his thumb swept tenderly across the dark smudges under her eyes.

  “I was so worried about you,” he whispered tenderly, eyeing the soft curve of her rose petal lips. Longing built steadily in his chest and, although he didn’t want to spook her, he had to have some reward for spending his day worrying for her safety.

  Amelia sat perfectly still and watched his head dip toward hers. She felt the feather-light brush of his firm lips against hers with a mixture of yearning and regret.

  It was everything she had dreamt it would be, she mused, stunned by the silken brush of his lips against hers.

  Sebastian longed to capture her lips and deepen the kiss. To take what he really wanted, and she so innocently offered, but knew that if he had a prayer of getting her to sleep in the bed with him again, he had to restrain himself.

  Instinctively, he knew she was holding back from him. Still didn’t trust him. Although the knowledge frustrated him, he couldn’t blame her for being wary. They still had a lot to learn about each other, and circumstances of late had been rather strange for both of them.

  After several long moments of tender exploration, he smiled gently at her and drew away.

  “I think you have done more than enough for today. It is time to get some sleep, Amelia,” he ordered, trying hard to be as non-threatening as possible, as he added more logs to the fire before taking her hand and leading her over to the bed.

  With any other woman he would not have passed up the opportunity to bed her, and would have seduced the dress off her back within minutes of her appearing at the cottage door. With Amelia, he simply couldn’t. She deserved more than a quick tumble.

  Their first time together was going to be at his home, in a nice warm bed. A nice soft bed, with plenty of thick blankets. In a warm bedroom, in a house where they wouldn’t have to get up and worry about food, heating or work.

  Ruefully shaking his head, Sebastian tried to be as casual and non-sexual as possible as he lay down, adopting the same position they had slept in the night before. He sighed with relief when, without question, Amelia settled down beside him. This time, he didn’t wait for her to go to sleep before he tugged her close. As soon as she lay down, his arm slid around her waist and he tugged her back against his chest with one arm as he wrapped them in the layers of blankets before settling down himself.

  “Goodnight, Amelia,” he whispered, unsurprised when his only response was a soft snore.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Amelia was growing more despondent by the day. Sebastian was visibly stronger, and could now move freely without wincing in pain.

  Unable to remain in the small cottage a moment longer than was absolutely necessary, he had taken on the task of collecting branches from the trees for the fire, and now spent most of his day outside.

  Although Amelia was pleased for him, she had forgotten just how lonely living by herself had been. Or how much she missed having someone to talk to other than Sir Hubert, and the occasional villager.

  For Amelia, the nights were the best. Being able to lie within Sebastian’s warm embrace while she slept was simply divine. She wondered how she was ever going to get to sleep in her rickety cot by herself once he had gone.

  Closing off the melancholy thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her, she opened the doo
r to the main house, calling out to Sir Hubert as she went.

  Sebastian looked at the small pile of food left on the table. With any luck it would get them through dinner, and maybe breakfast if they ate sparingly. They had to leave tomorrow.

  “There goeth another problem,” Sebastian muttered, as he considered the options. How do they get to Tingdale? Over the past few days his strength had returned and he had lengthened his daily walks. Having found Sir Hubert’s house, he had discovered there was no conveyance there that would get them to the village, let alone half way across the country. That left Bestwick.

  Although he had yet to tell Amelia, Lord Bestwick was friends with his younger brother, Edward. Several years younger than Sebastian’s four and thirty, Arthur Bestwick had gone to university with his young sibling. Sebastian had met the man on several occasions, and felt comfortable with asking for his help. That left him with another problem.

  Amelia.

  Although Amelia had begrudgingly accepted sharing a bed with him, Sebastian still sensed her underlying hesitation towards him. He didn’t think he had done anything to offend her. Besides landing half-dead on her doorstep, in the middle of a raging storm. Oh, and eating all of her meagre supply of food, he thought ruefully.

  She seemed to enjoy lying in his arms at night, and had conversed freely with him in the hour between when she returned from work, and they made their way to bed. She also appeared to actually enjoy his embrace during the night, actively seeking him out if he turned over. Despite her apparent contentment with their situation, he wasn’t sure she trusted him enough to give up her home and livelihood, and accompany him back to Tingdale.

  Given she was a single woman living alone; he supposed he couldn’t blame her for being wary. Despite the discomfort to his libido, he had remained true to his word and been a gentleman. He had remained fully clothed while they slept and ensured that there was nothing about his behaviour that could give her any cause for worry. But he could sense there was something bothering her. Something she wasn’t telling him.

 

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