Cinders and Ashes

by King, Rebecca

  There were so many books residing on the floor-to-ceiling shelving, they decided to place each book on the floor once it had been checked thoroughly, until one shelf was empty. They then replaced that shelf of books before turning to the next shelf up. It was going to take hours.

  The clock chimed midnight when Sebastian arched his back with a low groan and looked at the others. Amelia was practically weaving on her feet. Typically, she refused to admit to her exhaustion and carried on regardless.

  Isobel was fast asleep in a winged-back chair beside the fire. Edward and Peter had long since given up caring, and had taken to casually tossing the books around in the hope something jumped out at them.

  “Wait,” Amelia exclaimed, moved swiftly across the room. Quickly she picked up the book Edward had casually tossed onto the floor. Beside it lay a small, red pouch. Holding both in her hands carefully, she moved toward the table, clearing enough space to accommodate the book and pouch side by side.

  Isobel was nudged awake by Dominic, and sleepily stumbled to her feet with the help of her husband. As everyone crowded around the table, they stared almost reverently down at the small pouch on the table.

  “What do you think it is?” Isobel yawned, and leant sleepily against her husband’s chest.

  Amelia slowly opened the pouch and eased the folded piece of paper out.

  “What is it?” Sebastian moved to stand immediately behind Amelia, his hands braced on her hips as he peered over her shoulder to see the writing.

  “Have you ever heard of Jack Cunningham?” Amelia asked, squinting at the small lettering in the candlelight. She tried to keep her eyes away from the haunting sketch of the man at the top of the page.

  “It isn’t familiar to me,” Sebastian replied, amid denials from everyone else.

  “It’s a Penny Dreadful for Jack Cunningham. Hung for murder four years ago.” Amelia read the large print at the top of the document.

  “Murder of whom?” Dominic frowned at the red pouch and the book.

  “I can’t read it in this light, the print is too small. It looks like Martha Bainbridge, a servant. Can you read any more?” She lifted the paper for Sebastian to read.

  Moments later, Sebastian shook his head. “I can’t see a damned thing, the print is faded. We need better light.”

  “It must have some significance for it to be put into a pouch like this, and hidden in a book.” Dominic lifted the book to read the spine. “Gardening.” He tossed the book down on the table with a snort.

  “I don’t understand the significance of this, but do we have to search the rest tonight?” Edward mumbled with a yawn. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I wouldn’t notice a clue if it hit me in the head and shouted, ‘I’m a clue’.”

  “I suggest we leave everything as it is. Go to bed. We can take a closer look through everything in the morning,” Sebastian replied, breathing in the delicious scent of Amelia standing before him with a pang of longing. He wished he had the easy familiarity with Amelia that Dominic had with Isobel, and he could slide his arms around Amelia’s waist while she snuggled back against him.

  “Quite right, I can’t see straight,” Isobel mumbled with a yawn. “If I never see another book again, I’ll be happy.”

  After bidding everyone a quiet goodnight, Amelia retired to her designated room. Making no attempt to see to her ablutions, she gratefully shrugged into the soft cotton nightgown Isobel had given her, before collapsing onto the soft bed with a groan. Despite a slight musty smell, it was lovely. Almost as good as her bed at Tingdale.

  That thought gave her reason to pause. When had the bed she used at Tingdale House become her bed? She had only been there a couple of nights and already it was hers? With a frown she turned over, and opened her eyes to stare the vast expanse of empty bed beside her. A pang of bitter regret stole through her.

  She was about to turn over when she heard the quiet click of her bedroom door. She didn’t need to see who it was. The lemony scent that was distinctly Sebastian hung in the air. She wasn’t sure whether to be angry or relieved, when he moved around to the empty side of the bed and lay down.

  “What do you think you are doing?” she asked, raising herself onto her elbow to stare at him. Did he never listen?

  “I am not pestering to make love with you,” Sebastian grumbled, as he gestured to his lean length now sprawled beside her. “Look, see? I am fully dressed.”

  “Then you have got the wrong bed.” Amelia wondered what he was up to.

  “But I won’t sleep in there, because I will be constantly worried about you. Your safety,” he amended, carefully ignoring her snort of disbelief. “At least in here, like this, I pose no threat to your feminine virtue but can satisfy my own need to keep you safe.” His voice was reason personified.

  Amelia wasn’t falling for it. “But I promised to scream if anything untoward happened. You are just in the next room. Peter is on the other side. I am sure nobody would dare cross either of you to get to me.” Her instinct warned her she wasn’t going to move him, and secretly she didn’t want him to. Especially as he was still dressed. But could she sleep with him being there, so temptingly close, yet not touch him? Would he keep his hands to himself? She knew if he pushed her, she would undoubtedly succumb to anything he suggested.

  “Alright, darling, I will be completely honest. I cannot sleep on my own now,” Sebastian admitted on a sigh. “Since being in your cottage, I find I cannot sleep on my own. I keep turning over in the night only to find you gone. Then I start to worry you are alright, only to find myself unable to get back to sleep.” He could feel her eyes studying his face carefully, and was grateful when she didn’t immediately throw him out on his ear. “I’m tired, and need to get some sleep. It appears the only place I can get a good night’s sleep, is beside you.”

  Amelia fought the urge to roll her eyes at his piteous excuses. Again, he was ignoring her requests, but she couldn’t be angry with him for the way he was doing it. If she was completely honest with herself, she was glad he was there. Something about the house made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She was glad she had his reassuring presence beside her.

  “Alright, as long as you promise not to snore.” She flopped down on the bed with a yawn, only to freeze when Sebastian carefully pulled the covers up to her ear, and placed a tender kiss on her temple.

  “Good night, Amelia,” he murmured, settling down beside her.

  As silence settled around them, Amelia became aware of the coolness of the room. The grate in the bedroom was small, and although the fire had been lit, it did little to take the chill off the room. Despite being tucked under the warmth of several blankets, Amelia could feel the cold air on her ears. Sebastian must be frozen.

  She scolded herself for being so weak and feeble. He had after all got his own bed waiting for him next door, should he choose to use it. He could be tucked up nice and warm if he chose.

  Still, he was looking after her wellbeing. With a sigh, she knew she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep with him shivering on the covers.

  “After everything I have done to keep you alive, I cannot in all conscience allow you to die of cold now, Sebastian,” Amelia muttered, tugging the covers down with a sigh.

  Within minutes, Sebastian was settling beneath the covers. To Amelia’s astonishment, he remained fully clothed.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, as she eyed the slightly dusty white linen of the shirt he was still wearing.

  “I am settling down as you told me to,” Sebastian replied obliquely, pleased with her obvious confusion. His masculine pride was glad she was perplexed by his behaviour. He wanted her to be wary, and aware, of him and his importance in her life.

  “You know what I mean.” She flicked a finger at the laces on his shirt casually, careful not to touch the heat of his broad chest beneath.

  “I told you I wouldn’t pester you to make love. You are perfectly safe with me Amelia.” His voice softened. “Trust me.” His voice w
as pure honey and made her shiver with anticipation. The request held hidden meaning not lost on her.

  It bothered her that she hadn’t been entirely honest with him about her heritage, but she knew that as things stood she was likely to be shoved into doing things she wasn’t ready for as soon as he discovered the truth.

  “I do, Sebastian,” she replied, knowing she meant it. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  Sebastian bit back a sigh of frustration and settled down. Being allowed into her bed, even fully clothed, was a major step forward. He was grateful for small mercies, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Careful to keep his hands to himself, he tugged the covers up, this time over both of them, before settling down with a deep sigh. Within moments they were fast asleep.

  Sometime during the night, as the temperature beneath the covers built, Sebastian became too hot. His attempt to kick the covers off was met with a murmur of discontent from Amelia, who promptly tugged them upwards again. Grumpily, Sebastian tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor. Minutes later his breeches took the same journey and with a sigh he instinctively spooned, completely naked, around the woman who held his dreams in her small palms.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The following morning Sebastian stretched and rolled onto his back as the last vestiges of sleep left him. Feeling somewhat out of sorts, he blinked sleepily against the morning sunlight streaming through the windows, and glanced towards the vast expanse of bed beside him. The empty bed beside him. A quick glance around the room confirmed Amelia had already got up and left.

  He knew she was avoiding being alone with him. Whether because she didn’t want him asking questions about her past and pushing her for her true identity, or whether she didn’t want to make love with him just yet, he couldn’t be sure. For some reason, he suspected both.

  With a soft curse, he quickly left, dressed and went in search of her.

  By the end of breakfast, he knew Amelia was avoiding him. After a brief ‘Good morning’ at the breakfast table in the presence of the others, she had made little attempt to converse with him. Once or twice during their repast he had managed to catch her gaze with his, but she had smiled vaguely in his direction before turning her attention to her meal.

  It rankled.

  A lot.

  “I think we need to search the books in the house again,” Sebastian murmured, wincing at the resounding groans that met his announcement. “We found the Penny Dreadful tucked in a book on gardening. As far as I am aware there is no connection between gardening and being hung.”

  “But do we have to search every book? This house is littered with them.” Peter already knew the answer to his question, and was unsurprised at Sebastian’s reply.

  “We need to check to see if anything else is hidden.”

  “The book has to have some significance to your uncle Bertram,” Amelia murmured, watching Peter shake his head.

  “What do you mean?” Sebastian queried with a scowl.

  “I mean that in a house full of books such as this one, how would he remember where he had hidden the pouch? The book has to have some oblique meaning to Bertram.” Amelia licked the last crumbs of her bread from her fingers before rising to her feet. “Was it given to him as a present or something? Or was he a keen gardener?”

  Sebastian turned toward Dominic, impressed by Amelia’s logic. “As far as I am aware, Bertram never gardened in his life.”

  “I have no idea where Bertram got half of these books,” Dominic muttered, glaring at a haphazardly stacked pile on the kitchen table. “It may be worth searching the gardening books first,” he added reluctantly, moving towards the door. “It may save us a year or two of searching.”

  Amelia smiled sympathetically as she followed Dominic. “If we each take the rooms we had yesterday and search the books, shake them out and then move towards the library?”

  Her question was met with groans and huffs by the assembled gathering, before everyone took to their allotted rooms. The soft thuds and thumps of books being randomly stacked soon filled the air.

  Throughout the morning Amelia fully expected Sebastian to seek her out and challenge her. By late morning, she wasn’t certain if she was glad or not when he had made no move to come anywhere near.

  She still couldn’t explain last night. Why she had caved in so quickly to have him lie with her. Although he had remained true to his word and not pushed her to make love, she wasn’t sure she appreciated it or not.

  She had awoken this morning with her nose buried in his chest, his strong masculine arms wrapped around her. The soft huff of his breath as he slept ruffled the hair on the top of her head. It would have been far too easy to remain with him until he woke up.

  Sometime during the night he had clearly become hot and had divested himself of his clothing, leaving him blessedly, temptingly naked beside her. Even as he slept, Amelia could feel the masculine length of him against her leg.

  It had taken every ounce of inner strength she possessed to carefully ease out of his arms and get dressed. She knew that if he had woken up before she left; she would give him anything he asked of her. And most probably regretted it later, she thought ruefully, turning back to the books with a sigh.

  It was a dejected search party that reconvened later that evening in the library. Covered in dust, shoulders dropping wearily, they each took a seat to decide what to do.

  “I have been thinking,” Amelia murmured reluctantly. She knew her announcement would open up a whole new can of worms, but she had to confide in them. To withhold her suspicions might mean a delay in discovering who had tried to kill Sebastian, and what the Penny Dreadful had to do with it. If anything.

  She would never forgive herself if anything happened to Sebastian because she had kept something to herself. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath.

  “I think I know who the man in the Penny Dreadful is.” She was very much aware she had everyone’s rapt attention and continued quickly, her words exploding from her in a rush. “I think he is Lord Jeremiah Hawksworth. He was an old business acquaintance of Lord Eastleigh. I can remember seeing him with Eastleigh on several occasions. From a distance of course. But I am fairly certain this is the man.”

  Amelia glanced quickly at the dark scowl on Sebastian’s face, and knew he was about to ask questions she didn’t want to answer. Hurriedly, she continued. “I don’t know how his face came to be on the Penny Dreadful, but if anyone knows of the Hawksworth family and is able to meet with them, it might help to identify the man on the Penny Dreadful.” Amelia knew she had caused considerable consternation by her declaration, and waited for the axe to fall.

  “From memory, I think there was some scandal surrounding Hawksworth,” Isobel murmured, frowning as she searched her memory for the exact details.

  “Didn’t he go to the Americas?” Dominic asked, taking a seat beside his wife as he opened the Penny Dreadful to stare at the roughly drawn picture of the convict.

  “Yes. He sold his family home right out from under his family’s nose. His mother had to go to live with a cousin of theirs, or something,” Isobel added, practically fidgeting in her seat as details returned.

  “I remember now.” Dominic looked at Sebastian. “His estates were sold suddenly a few days before he sent a missive to his relations that he was moving to the Americas, and wouldn’t be back. Nobody heard anything from him after that.”

  “I only met Hawksworth once or twice. I don’t know much about him, but I know that some of the effects were removed from the house by the family. Most were left in the house because they simply didn’t have time to remove them before the new owner took possession.” Edward turned the Penny Dreadful to study it closely. “You know, I do believe you are right, Amelia.”

  “Do we know who the new owner was?” Dominic added.

  “Ballantyne,” Sebastian muttered with an oath, ignoring the gasps and silence that filled the room. Although the information Amelia had imparted had to
be confirmed, Sebastian knew there was likely to be much more Amelia wasn’t telling them.

  “Tell me something, Amelia,” Sebastian asked softly, unable to hide the hard edge to his voice as it dropped to a menacing growl. The tone made everyone pause. “Do you know Ballantyne?”

  His heart pounded and he fought the urge to shake the truth out of her.

  Amelia’s gaze was steady as it met his almost defiantly. “I have never met the man before in my life. I never had a come out or anything of the type, Sebastian, so the names are merely that. Names.”

  “So how come you can identify Hawksworth?” He watched the guilty flush steal through her cheeks with a small tinge of frustrated satisfaction.

  Just how much did Amelia know? Was she in league with Ballantyne?

  Amelia felt her stomach tighten nervously, and she fought the urge to fidget under the assessing scrutiny of everyone within the room.

  “I have seen him at the Earl of Eastleigh’s estate. Only at a distance, but I understand it was Hawksworth.” Amelia’s voice was weak as she tried hard to keep herself from lying entirely. She wasn’t being dishonest. She really wasn’t. It had been on the Earl of Eastleigh’s estate.

  Desperately, she tried to get the focus of attention from herself and back onto the Penny Dreadful. She could feel the anger and distrust practically bristling from Sebastian, who was standing near the fireplace, and knew he would push her further unless distracted. She began to feel cornered and didn’t like it.

  “If I were you, I would go and check Hawksworth’s family for any portraits they may have kept.” Amelia kept her eyes on the Penny Dreadful, waiting until someone accepted her mute appeal for a change of subject.