“Don’t mind me,” Isobel scolded with a small smile, and a tiny frown at Amelia who was clearly in some discomfort.
“Were you arguing or anything?” Sebastian asked softly, easing around until he was comfortable, and certain Amelia was settled.
“It is just a headache,” Amelia whispered, fighting sleep.
“Just rest,” Sebastian’s voice ordered softly from somewhere above her head. For the life of her, Amelia couldn’t have argued at that moment. Staying awake suddenly seemed such a huge task. With a deep sigh, she settled against the luxuriously reassuring warmth of his chest and fell asleep.
“She isn’t well,” Isobel whispered after several moments.
“I know. We will send for the doctor when she is back at Tingdale.”
Silence settled within the carriage for a long time while the carriage rumbled home. They were almost at the gates of Tingdale, when Sebastian was jerked out of his thoughts by a nudge at his foot. He squinted across the carriage at the small note card Isobel was holding out to him. He frowned at it and looked at Isobel, a brow raised in query.
“I think you will find that is who she really is,” Isobel murmured, folding the card carefully back into her cloak pocket.
Sebastian froze. “Have you had any definite confirmation?” His heart thumped heavily in his chest.
“No,” Isobel murmured, glancing at Amelia for several moments. “It was just something imparted without thought. If you think about it, everything falls into place.”
Sebastian considered for a moment. He wasn’t certain whether to be vastly relieved, or intensely annoyed. Whatever, or rather whoever Amelia really was, didn’t really have any import on their future together. After the events of the last day, there was no way in hell he was ever going to let her out of his sight again.
“Thank you,” Sebastian murmured to Isobel, knowing she was only trying to help. Despite the fact she was the only female in their rapidly expanding family, Sebastian respected her opinion greatly and seriously considered the suggestion put forward.
He was still contemplating the possibilities, and ramifications, if she indeed turned out to be the Earl of Eastleigh’s long-lost, and much sought after daughter, when the carriage rumbled to a stop.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following morning, Amelia awoke refreshed and feeling more comfortable after a good night’s sleep. The heavy pounding in her head had reduced to a dull thud and, as she dressed, she contemplated the horrible consequences had Sebastian not managed to save her from the flames at Edenvale Manor.
One thing was for certain. He had now saved Amelia’s life, and should feel no obligation to look after her. But where did that leave them?
She knew if she told him the truth about herself, he would go to her father and demand her hand in marriage, blithely ignoring her protests right up to their marriage bed. She had to know if he loved her before she accepted his hand in marriage. She couldn’t bear the thought of spending her life married to Sebastian knowing he cared for her, but didn’t love her.
She knew from her conversation in the carriage with Isobel, that the family were worried about her hurting Sebastian. Amelia couldn’t really blame them for wanting to protect one of their own. It would be wonderful if they considered her one of them, and cared for her in such a protective way. But in reality, Amelia knew it was looking less and less likely.
With an air of defeated worry, having ordered a tray of breakfast, she moved to sit at the writing table to pen a letter to Sir Hubert. She was just blotting the ink dry when there was a soft knock on the connecting door.
“Good morning.” Sebastian eyed Amelia’s pale complexion when she turned to look at him. Although the colour had partly returned to her alabaster cheeks, she was still dreadfully pale. The large dark bruise on her temple stood out in stark contrast to her complexion, reminding him of how close she had really been.
“How do you feel this morning?” He tried hard to remain casual. In reality the need to know the truth was gnawing at his innards until he wasn’t sure he could stand any more. Isobel’s suggestion of identity in the carriage yesterday had plagued him, robbing him of the sleep he so desperately needed.
As dawn had edged over the horizon, Sebastian had felt his frustration grow, along with his determination to get the truth from Amelia once and for all.
“I feel much restored, thank you,” Amelia murmured softly, eyeing Sebastian’s dark eyes with concern. “Did you not sleep well?” She frowned, as he hauled a chair from beside the window and set it down in front of her with a thud. As he sat, he leant forward to brace his elbows on his knees, studying her intently.
“We need to talk. Honestly.” Sebastian’s was cool as his gaze met and held hers.
Amelia felt her stomach drop and knew what he was asking.
“The night before last you nearly died, Amelia.” Sebastian paused and waited for her to absorb the words. “Tell me what I was supposed to put on your gravestone.”
“What do you mean?” Amelia whispered, clenching her hands into tiny balls to stop them shaking.
“Do we put: ‘Amelia – the saviour of Sebastian, and mystery of all?” Sebastian’s voice dripped sarcasm and fought the urge to shake her for her stubborn refusal to trust him.
Amelia blanched at the disgust clearly written on his face. “I am no threat to you, Sebastian. I promise I have never met Ballantyne or any of his associates. I never even met Hawksworth.”
“But you did see him at Eastleigh’s house?” Sebastian interrupted her. His tone said he would accept nothing less than the honest truth.
“Yes,” Amelia replied, her eyes meeting his defiantly.
“Were you a servant at Eastleigh’s house?” Sebastian was unsurprised when Amelia shook her head.
“No.” Amelia knew where this was headed and felt a sense of finality sweep through her. “What is with all of the questions, Sebastian? Why do you need to know everything about me anyway?” She raised a hand when he took a breath to reply, and took the opportunity to stand and move across the room, away from his distractingly masculine presence.
“You are living under my roof. I have a right to know exactly who you are,” Sebastian bit out, feeling his temper boil.
“But I am not here through choice, Sebastian. You were the one who brought me here regardless of what I wanted.” Amelia’s voice rose as her own frustration built.
“I was trying to protect you!” Sebastian shouted, pushing out of his chair.
“Protect me? Riding roughshod over what I want, and blithely ignoring my arguments until you get what you want, is protecting me?” Amelia’s chest heaved with anger
“Yes! When ignoring you keeps you safe then yes, it bloody well is,” Sebastian shouted. “What was I supposed to do, say oh, thanks for saving my life? Feeding me, nursing me, giving me the use of your body, but it’s time to go now?”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I managed perfectly well for three years before you came along. Why can you not understand that?”
“Oh yes, you were doing splendidly weren’t you?” Sebastian’s voice dripped scorn. “You were living on a rickety straw bed, in a cottage no bigger than my bath. With a roof that leaked. You were so comfortable; you were barely able to feed yourself. That’s a wonderful life, Amelia. I can understand why you are so desperate to return to it.”
Amelia froze and turned to him, her eyes full of hurt. “It was the best I could manage,” she whispered, with her chin tilted in proud defiance. “I know it is not up to your luxurious standards, but it was earned by me. By my hard work, and I was glad to be there. At least the decisions I made were my own. They may not seem much to you, my lord, but they mean a lot to me.” Amelia turned towards the window, not wanting him to see how deeply his words hurt her.
Sebastian was determined not to be distracted by her tears. If they had any hope of future happiness they had to get everything out in the open. He moved to stand behind her and turned
her towards him.
“Tell me who you are,” he bit out. His hard fingers captured and held the delicate point of her chin, tilting her head upwards when she tried to keep her gaze lowered. “I command you tell me.”
The temptation to tell all was so strong, Amelia shuddered. It was the last command that gave her the resolve to hold firm against him. Tugging her chin out of his fingers, she tipped her head back. Despite the shimmering of tears in her eyes, her gaze hardened imperceptibly as she glared defiantly at him.
“You know who I am. I am Amelia, housekeeper to Sir Hubert from Glendowie. A humble servant at your service, my lord.”
“Then as lord of this house, I command you to tell me your real name.” He caught Amelia as she tried to move past him, shoving her against the wall. “Tell me!” he shouted, his breath ruffling the fine hairs at her temples.
Amelia tipped her head backwards until her gaze met and held his.
“If we are to have any future together you have to tell me,” Sebastian bit out. A small part of him warned him he was being too harsh on her, but he had to know.
“Tell me,” he growled, sliding a hand into her hair. As he tugged his hand back, several of the pins pinged to the floor at their feet. “Tell me,” he murmured, feeling his erection stir in his breeches.
God damn it, despite his anger and disgust with her, he wanted her with a passion that overwhelmed him. As they stood locked in a silent battle of wills, something deep within Sebastian was defiantly proud of Amelia’s inner strength and determination. Most women would have crumbled into a quivering, wailing heap. He was inordinately pleased that Amelia had the sheer fortitude not to be cowed by him, and instead felt able to tip her head back defiantly and give him everything back. Despite his anger with her, he was proud she was his. Servant. Lady. Whatever she was.
He had to have her.
“What do you want from me?” Sebastian bit out. “What is it going to take for you to confide in me?”
Amelia paused. Was he really asking? Her gaze locked with his for several moments as she considered him.
“I want you to promise me that you won’t do anything without checking with me first. Do not dictate to me, or make decisions on my future without including me. Ask for my opinion and don’t command me. I won’t ever be commanded by you, Sebastian,” Amelia gasped, trying to ignore the molten core of desire pooling low in her belly. “Promise me you won’t go haring off, taking matters into your own hands without discussing it with me first.”
Sebastian frowned slightly for several moments. “If I consider things need to happen in your best interests, I won’t hesitate to change things, Amelia,” he murmured, slowly lowering his head.
“Promise me you won’t casually dismiss my concerns, Sebastian,” Amelia persisted, easing back from the masculine intent in his eyes.
Sebastian paused in consideration. Just what was she asking of him? “Amelia.”
“Promise me, Sebastian,” Amelia commanded, shoving away from him when he moved to kiss her.
“When have I ever done anything that isn’t in your best interests, Amelia?” Sebastian caught her elbow and spun her around to face him. He felt he had been chasing her around the room since he entered it, and it was becoming very tiresome.
“You made love to me knowing that you could leave me with child,” Amelia began.
“I have made sure if you are with child, I am there for you. The babe and you will be cared for,” Sebastian countered.
“You kidnapped me from my home,” Amelia checked off another finger.
“To leave you could leave you to the brutality of Ballantyne. I have already been through this.”
“But you never bothered to discuss it with me. You just casually ignored my arguments and brought me here anyway.”
Sebastian heaved a put-upon sigh that grated on Amelia's nerves. She wasn’t some hysterical female that needed to be appeased. His actions only fuelled her temper. Stalking towards him, she poked a finger in his chest.
“I know you. As soon as you know who I am, you will go haring off, casually tossing aside what I want. What I consider best for me, and you will arrogantly expect me to thank you for it.” Amelia pushed at his shoulders as the stress and worry of the past few weeks broke free. “I am sick of men taking control of my life. Making decisions for me and not listening. Never listening.”
“Amelia,” Sebastian murmured, watching as temper stained her cheeks, her voice increasingly angry and resentful. Her small fists beat into his chest for several moments until he captured them tightly against his chest, pulling her flush against him. He should not have been turned on, but it had been some time since he had last had her, and the sensation of her slender form writhing against his, even in anger, was more than his deprived manhood could bear.
With a soft groan, Sebastian captured her lips in his, immediately encasing the room in silence as his tongue plundered her mouth.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when she wrenched her wrists out of his hands, but couldn’t withhold the groan that escaped him as she clasped his hair in her small hands and tugged his head down to hers. Acceding to her demands, he gave her everything she mutely demanded without question.
Amelia barely had time to draw breath before she found herself lying on the bed, her skirts raised to allow the cool air of the room to slide over her feminine heat briefly, before Sebastian’s warmth slid over the inner skin of her thighs. Somehow he had already loosened his breeches, and he took advantage of her momentary hesitation to slide deep into her slick moisture with a groan.
White hot sensation began to pool low in her belly, as Sebastian tugged the neckline of her dress downwards until her breasts were bared to his hungry gaze. She couldn’t suppress the gasp of delight that escaped her as his hot tongue immediately began to circle the dark aureole and suckle hard.
Unwilling to lie back and be commanded, Amelia wrapped her legs around his hips before lurching upwards, twisting around until their positions were reversed and Sebastian was lying on his back. Immediately her hips were held firmly by gentle hands that guided her hips, until she caught on to his demands and began to ride him.
Stunned by the change of positions, Sebastian stared up at the wanton goddess now riding him and felt a surge of possessive pride sweep through him. Her long tangled tresses tumbled in wild abandon over her shoulders. The tips of her hair teasing and tantalising the turgid nipples lay bare to his rapt gaze. With trembling hands he lifted her skirts and watched his rigid length disappear into her femininity. The sight of her delight at their new position was more than he could stand and he felt himself tighten in warning.
“Amelia, we have to slow down darling,” he groaned softly, feeling her feminine sheath begin to ripple around him.
In response she tossed her head back, and began to rock harder against him as her own completion claimed her. Moments later, with a soul deep groan, Sebastian found his own release.
Amelia awoke feeling a deep contentment she hadn’t experienced since leaving the cottage. She instinctively wriggled backwards in search of a more comfortable spot, when a masculine groan rumbled in her ear.
“Move again, darling, and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Following their lovemaking, exhaustion from the past couple of days had taken its toll on both of them and within moments they had fallen asleep. The light outside had already faded, warning Sebastian it was soon time to get ready for dinner.
Still, he was reluctant to move and instead savoured the feel of her lush femininity lying so temptingly beside him.
Reluctantly, he tried to withdraw his arms from around her. In particular the hand that was nestled warmly between her breasts, only for her to wriggle backwards. Her movement immediately closed the distance between them.
“Amelia, I believe we went to sleep, darling. It will soon be time for dinner,” Sebastian mumbled with a yawn.
“I’m sorry,” Amelia said, shuffling around until she lay facing
him. “I must have been more tired than I realised.” She slid upwards until she was sitting against the pillows, the covers tugged up to cover her breasts as she placed a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving the bed.
Sebastian paused and turned to face her. He eyed the pensive frown on her face, and warily resumed his place beside her.
“You asked me to trust you,” Amelia replied hesitantly. She paused as she tried to gather her thoughts and decide on the best way to tell him.
“I am the Earl of Eastleigh’s daughter.”
Silence descended for several moments as Sebastian stared at her. He could sense her tension as she waited for his response.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” he muttered, thinking of Isobel’s note in the carriage yesterday. He almost asked her if she was sure. “I wasn’t aware the Earl of Eastleigh had a daughter,” he replied, easing around to sit facing her.
Amelia nodded slowly. “I am estranged from him. He-.” She took a deep breath and spoke the last in a rush. “He sent me away when my mother died, and wouldn’t communicate with me. I haven’t spoken to him for several years.”
Sebastian looked at her in consideration as she sat beside him. The covers gripped tightly in her small fists indicated how disturbed she was at confiding in him. Whatever had happened between her and her father, the hurt was clearly still raw and painful.
“I can vaguely recall something about Eastleigh making enquiries about someone a couple of years back. But I don’t know that much about him, or what it was about.” He scowled across the room as he searched his memory. “None of us frequent London as much as we used to, so I don’t know much of the latest gossip. Dominic visits London more often than any of us, so is the one who is likely to know more about him.”
“My father doesn’t care about me, Sebastian. I am sure if he was asking about somebody, it wasn’t me,” Amelia replied, wishing Sebastian would say something, or show some emotion. All that showed on his face was a slightly thoughtful frown. “He sent me to live with my aunts in Bath. I was essentially cast out by him.”
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