Amelia rose and clasped her hands.
"I will take that as a maybe. I will be at the townhouse for a few days. If you like you may come for a visit."
She didn't look up until the door clicked closed.
****
"Miz, you can't stay here."
"I can and I will. Trust me Victor will not mind."
"But Miz Kyle—"
"Please, go back to your duties. I promise if there is a break in the weather I will leave posthaste and Victor will be none the wiser."
The servant left her in the parlor. Settling against the sofa she leaned her head back and studied the wallpaper. Each room sported a different design. Some had flowers, some geometric shapes, and some multi-colored dots. It was enough to cross the eyes.
The reed mats on the floor curled at the edges threatening to trip a less observant visitor. Ashes piled high in the fireplaces. Stones loosened on the sides and wooden mantles shifted to the touch.
Either Victor's memories of his family home were flawed or he had run the place into the ground over the past two years. Cassidy considered the latter as the case.
Swiping her gloved hand over a table top, she shuddered in revulsion. Dust covered the material in a thick glob. Gilded frames carried the same.
Tattered tapestries hung on the wall leading to the upstairs. Moving one aside, Cassidy noted a long crack from the stairs to the ceiling. She shook her head and sighed. What a mess Victor had made of things. Her father would be appalled.
It had taken her months to discover what her father had enacted with Victor. The two of them had spent hours hunting. Little had she known their trips were nothing more than an opportunity to discuss their schemes.
Father, as a presiding judge, had agreed to assist Victor in reacquiring his land if ever a legal way arose. Fortune shone on Victor when he found an original will naming him as heir after his brother's demise.
By the time Charles had returned from New Orleans the property was no longer his.
With this information drawn from her father, Cassidy had decided to rectify the situation. She loved Victor dearly but owning the property had changed him. Determined to find a way to reverse the damage, she had invited herself to the Green's party.
Of course there was nothing there to help her. Flirting with Charles and making plans to use him to make Victor jealous did little since the two of them never visited one another. Why she couldn't even find Charles to make further arrangements!
Gnawing her lip, she continued to her temporary room. The winding staircase led to a long narrow hallway with several doors. Each door led to a different suite. Cassidy chose the most feminine of the lot. A portrait of a young woman hung above the fireplace. Cassidy stroked the frame and squinted at the plaque. Vivian Vincent. So the room belonged to Victor's mother. It was fitting that she should choose this room as her starting place.
The furniture looked untouched. Out-of-style clothes hung in the wardrobe. Cluttered, the dressing table held perfumes and old trinkets. Yet with all that seemed to have stayed the same, no papers lingered. She'd searched the room from top to bottom even going so far as to climb under the bed and search the frame.
A gown lay on the bed freshly laundered. She changed out of her wet clothes and into the dry gown. Grabbing an ancient leather reticule, she stuffed her own gown inside. It was past time to leave. There was nothing here to help her regain Victor's love.
Outside, she headed to the stables and requested a slave to prepare her mount. She climbed astride and set off along the road. When she drew close to the Green Estate she decided to take a detour.
Perhaps the answers to her problem lay there.
Chapter Sixteen
"Sir, there is a rider approaching."
Charles rose from his seat in the parlor and glanced out the window. He'd arrived earlier that morning and decided to wait until Stephen and the ladies returned home. He wished to speak with Stephen about a gift for Amelia.
He frowned. What was she doing here?
"Shall I let her in, sir?"
"Yes."
Charles didn't move but waited for Cassidy Kyle to enter. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold wind. Her tiny frame shivered as she made her way to the fireplace.
"Forgive me for the unexpected visit."
Charles didn't speak.
"Believe it or not I came to see you only I didn't expect to find you here. How fortunate am I."
"Indeed."
Cassidy lifted her skirts and sat on the sofa next to him. A smile drew at the corner of her lips. "How do you fare?"
"Excuse me?"
"I haven't seen you since the party. How have you been? Have you thought about my proposal?"
He stroked the nape of his neck and moved to stand, but she placed her hand on his arm. Her eyes widened in an expression of innocence, and blind fury welled inside him.
"Did you take acting lessons?"
"Pardon?"
"Because you're very good at lying."
She said, "What have I lied about? I told you I love Victor, and I want him to return home. I spoke of his foolishness over believing I would love him more if he owned land. Tell me where I lied."
"Why did you not tell me of your part in the plot?"
"My part?"
She placed a fluttering hand over her heart and Charles' anger grew hotter than the wood in the fire. He stood and paced.
"I don't understand."
He dropped in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her trembling frame. She sucked her lip between her teeth, and tears pooled in her eyes. He backed away and fell into a chair opposite the sofa. Cradling his head in his hands, he groaned.
A gentle touch fell to his head and he threw his head back startling her.
"Look, this is not the best place for you. Perhaps you should leave," he said.
"Not until you tell me what you think you know."
He stood with his hands fisted to his sides. "It is not what I think I know, it is what I know. I know your father helped Victor to take my land from me."
"True."
"So you don't deny it?"
"I wish I could," she said, her head dipping.
"What?"
"I am sorry for the part my father played. He was wrong. In the past months after he told me his tale I've convinced him of that. But why are you upset with me?"
"Because you helped him!"
Cassidy blinked rapidly. "I helped him?"
"Yes. You helped Victor. You pushed him into doing what he did."
She gasped. "I can't believe you have the audacity to accuse me of such a thing."
"Believe it."
She wagged her finger in his face. "I will have you know I have spent the better part of two years trying to reconnect with Victor. We worked together for the longest time. He became friends with my father, professed love to me, and then without warning he disappeared. I searched for him at his townhouse, but to no avail. I sent letters to the Vincent Plantation but never received a reply. When I discovered what had transpired between Victor and my father, I made arrangements to come here posthaste."
"The party…"
"Yes, the party. It was the perfect opportunity for me to speak with Victor because he couldn't run away." She sighed and continued, "What I told you that night was the truth. I don't want the property. I want Victor to return to Charleston, marry me, and us live together in his townhouse in Walterborough. The country," she said, waving her hand in disgust, "isn't for me. I like the city. And just to let you know, I always get what I want."
"Oh."
"Immediately after discovering you detest me is probably not the best time to ask, but I don't have time to lose. Will you help me or not?"
Chapter Seventeen
The buckboard wagon shuddered to a halt in front of the Green's house. Stephen jumped down and assisted Amelia and Millie to the ground. Charles watched from his vantage point in the parlor. Cassidy sat behind him sipping on a mint julep.
"I can see you tense from here. You mustn't be so nervous. Act natural. In order for this to work they have to believe you've fallen for me."
Charles massaged his temples and sighed. Slim arms wrapped around his waist and he forced himself to relax.
Her chin poked his back and her lips moved against him as she murmured, "I promise to make the experience as a painless as possible. But in order for Victor to believe we–"
"Like each other, everyone else must as well. I know."
The front door creaked open. Amelia stumbled into the parlor. Her eyes widened, and her lips drew downward.
"Hello," Cassidy said as she moved to Charles' side and placed her arm around his waist once more.
Amelia didn't speak. Stephen and Millie came in behind her. A frown drew Stephen's brows together.
"Charles? I didn't expect to see you here."
"Yes, well, it wasn't a planned visit."
"And Miss Kyle, welcome back."
"Thank you, Mr. Green. I hope you don't mind that I've been enjoying your hospitality for the day."
"Since I wasn't asked about the matter, I suppose not," muttered Stephen.
Millie whispered, "I mind."
Cassidy smiled and squeezed Charles' arm right as his resolve started to waver. He couldn't stop staring at Amelia. A tear slipped onto her cheek. He moved to step forward, but Cassidy stopped him by speaking.
"Yes, well, I am sorry but Charles was the only one here when I arrived, and he thought you wouldn't mind."
"Charles was wrong," said Millie, folding her arms over her chest.
"Oh, I see. Very well, allow me to grab my hat and cloak and I'll be on my way."
Cassidy picked up her things but Charles didn't move. "Charles, are you coming?"
He shook his head. "You go ahead. I'll catch up with you."
Her lips drifted downward, but she didn't argue.
The door slammed shut, and Millie stalked toward him. She raised her hand and struck him. His cheek throbbed, but he didn't touch it.
"That is for bringing her into my home."
Stephen placed his arm around Millie's shoulders and drew her out of the room. Heated words floated back to Charles, and he sat down and buried his face in his hands.
"Why?" asked Amelia, so quietly he'd almost forgotten she was in the room.
"Amelia, it is complicated. You wouldn't understand."
She reared her head backward and laughed deeply. "Wouldn't understand? How often must I hear those words in relation to myself?"
"I don't–"
"Don't worry. It is obvious you've fallen for the charms of another." Slowly she walked to the fireplace and stared into the flames. "It doesn't really matter. I guess I just thought," she stopped talking and sighed. "I wish you all the happiness in the world."
She spun on her heel and ran from the room.
Since the morning before he'd thought of very little save Amelia and his desire to please her. But by agreeing to help Cassidy, and serve his own selfish purposes, he may have doomed himself to a life without Amelia and without the happiness he truly desired.
****
Amelia fled to the garden. Dead flowers and shrubbery mimicked a path. Following it, she found herself staring at a hedgerow that ran together and created a maze. Millie had warned her not to enter unless she was with an escort. Today getting lost didn't seem to matter.
The entrance led into a type of circular area with many openings. Amelia chose the path to her right, took exactly twenty steps, and stopped. Using the hedgerow as a back stop she slid to the ground and wept.
Tears came so rapidly no amount of wiping would stem the tide. This disaster with Charles was all her fault. She should have stayed in New Orleans and dreamed about him. At least then she could concentrate on her fantasies. Reality hurt too much.
Every night when she lay down to sleep, she could see Charles the way he looked in the stables. His shirt off, his chest bare. His tanned skin had glowed by the lantern light and she'd been mesmerized by his form.
So enthralled that day with the picture he'd presented, she had raced to the library and compared his physique to the Greek god of beauty and desire, Adonis. Needless to say Adonis' form failed in comparison.
She had thought to never see him again. Forced to spend her days drudging up memories of her own Adonis didn't seem so bad. But after Cora revealed she had been the one responsible for the rumors about Millie, she had been so ashamed she'd told her parents. They forgiven her, but she could not forgive herself.
Amazed that one stray word could lead to so much trouble, Amelia vowed to visit South Carolina and apologize to her sister in person. Her parents hadn't protested. This made her believe they were happy she was leaving at least for a time. They probably hoped the rumors would die with her departure.
Thoughts of talking to her sister were soon overshadowed by thoughts of Charles. He would be here. Two years older and surely more handsome than ever. Millie had written in her letters that he stayed with them often and he remained single. Amelia's heart had soared.
What had she expected? Something like her carriage stopping at the hotel in town and Charles waiting there for her? He would bend on one knee holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand a ring in the other. A proposal would spring forth from his lips and she would accept. Then he would pick her up, sling her through the air, stop and pull her body against his for a crushing embrace. That was what she'd expected.
Silly fantasies. What good had they ever done her? All they did was make her hope for something she could never have. A home, a family, and Charles by her side until the end of eternity.
As the sun lowered in the sky, her sadness dissipated. Charles had made his choice. Perhaps he thought she would run to Victor. But he was wrong.
Victor was nice and he'd helped her during a time of great need, but she didn't love him. She had no intentions of seeing Victor again no matter how much he would like her too. She wouldn't allow him to use her to make Cassidy or Charles jealous. He could find another way to hurt them if he desired. She was finished.
Standing, she braced herself against the row of hedges. Her shoulders pulled back, she strutted toward the maze entrance. Once in the garden she stared at the Green house. A few more weeks and she would leave this place forever. Odd pains of grief assailed her. Some things in life weren't meant to be.
As she rounded the corner to enter the house, she noticed Charles' horse was gone. It was for the best because right now she had no idea what to say to him.
Chapter Eighteen
"Victor, how are you on this fine evening?" asked Miles.
Victor had returned to the Vincent Estate upon learning of Amelia's departure from town.
Miles Jones, a neighboring plantation owner, lounged comfortably on his parlor sofa.
Victor fought his aggravation. "I'm fine. Please tell me what brings you for a visit."
Miles crossed his legs at the ankles. "You know I've been searching for a wife for some time now."
"Yes." Everyone knows, thought Victor as he smiled and sipped at his wine.
"I think I've found her."
"You have?"
"Yep. I think so. 'Course it ain't a done deal yet. Still have a few kinks to work out."
"Allow me to be the first to congratulate you. Who is the lucky woman?"
"Well that is part of the kink."
Victor lifted a brow and halted his glass halfway to his mouth.
"I haven't picked the woman."
"You haven't…" Victor's voice faded as he stopped talking.
"I know it don't sound possible to know you're gettin' married yet not know who the gal is but I'm just telling you I heard there are two fine women in the area and I aim to marry one of them."
"I see. And who are these two fine women?"
"Well one is from farther south, her name is, umm, let me think. I believe it is Amelia or something like that and the other one in the running is a Miss Cassidy Kyle."
>
Victor spit his drink across the room and coughed.
"Don't go gettin' all choked up on me now."
"Are you daft?"
"I don't think so." Miles looked at his armpits.
Victor shook his head at his neighbor's ignorance. He took a seat on the edge of a chair. As gently as possible, he said, "There is no way either of those women will marry you."
Miles rose and puffed his chest out. "And why not? I've got land and good looks. And I got a whole slew of slaves."
"Yes, well, that is true. But I believe they both have someone in their sights."
"Oh, that. I know Miss Kyle has a thing for Charles and since I'm figuring she is my best bet I thought I would come over and talk to you. I was kind of hoping you could talk to your nephew and ask him to back off the little lady. I'm thinking if I get half a chance I can convince her I'm a sight better than him. Especially since you done took his land and all."
"Indeed," said Victor studying the swirling patterns of liquid in his glass.
"So do you think you might talk to him? Otherwise I'll be forced to go after Miss Beaumont, and by my thinkin' you have your sights set on her, and that might make matters a little strained between us."
Victor squeezed the glass until it cracked in his hand. It pierced his skin and a drop of blood slipped between his closed fingers.
"I think you cut yourself. Might want to have your doctor look at that."
Victor nodded and studied the wound. No one outside of the plantation knew that the doctor had left soon after he acquired the land. In fact the only people who stayed on at the plantation were those who couldn't leave.
Finding a white handkerchief in a desk drawer, he wrapped his hand. "As you were saying?"
"Oh, yes, I could use your help. If I don't get married soon and sire some children I'm afeared I won't have anyone to leave the plantation to. Awful hard to get young women to move this far from town."
Amelia (Southern Hearts Book 2) Page 9
