Amelia (Southern Hearts Book 2)

by Felicia Rogers

  Alice shoved her from behind. Cora's plan to run and hide in the hothouse would have been a good one if Mother hadn't been in the kitchen.

  The study door opened and Amelia stumbled inside.

  "Welcome, daughter. You're looking well," said Henri.

  Righting herself, she smoothed her skirt. "Thank you, Father."

  "Come, sit. You have a visitor."

  "Is that so?" Instead of gliding into the room with grace, she skipped and fell unceremoniously into a chair. With her legs dangling over the side, she twisted a strand of hair around her finger and placed it in her mouth.

  Henri's aghast expression almost made her change her tactics. Almost.

  He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, Mr. Woods here has come to speak with you. If you'll excuse me I'll leave you two alone."

  Instantly Amelia squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. If she made it through this she would kill Cora. Why had she insisted Peter waited in the study?

  "I see you've made yourself comfortable," Mr. Woods said with unveiled humor.

  Amelia gulped and adjusted her position, fighting her embarrassment. "I apologize for my behavior. I thought you were someone else."

  "Oh really? You were expecting someone who would appreciate you flopping in a chair like a beached whale?"

  "No, I — never mind. What can I help you with Mr. Woods?"

  "Ah, so you are not without social graces. I'm glad to hear it."

  "Please do get on with it."

  "Of course, forgive me. I tend to rattle on when I'm astounded by a beautiful woman."

  Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Mr. Woods, I'm not daft or prone to lose my head from flattery. I would appreciate your prompt honesty."

  "Very well. My name is Josh Woods and I'm a lawmen. Do you know what this means?"

  "That you hunt criminals."

  "Among other things, yes."

  Amelia uncrossed her legs and clasped her hands together on her lap. "And what does this have to do with me?"

  "It has come to our attention that you recently visited Walterborough, South Carolina."

  She drew her brows together. "That's correct. My sister lives on a plantation not far from there. What is this about?"

  "While you visited, did you happen to meet anyone?"

  "I met lots of people. You will need to be more specific."

  He massaged his temples and sighed. "Of course, I will. Maybe it will help if you look at this."

  The sheet of paper rendered a drawing of a man. Amelia studied the portrait from every angle before handing the paper back. "I'm afraid I can't help you. I arrived, went to a friend's house for the night, and then spent the rest of my visit with my family. There were people who attended a welcoming party for me, but I don't remember anyone who looked like this fellow you're showing me."

  He stood and bowed. "Thank you for your time. If you happen to remember anything else will you send a telegraph to this address?"

  On the card was printed an address for a place in New York. "You've come a long way."

  He didn't respond.

  "May I ask what this man has done?"

  With a ferocity that would have intimidated a bull, he stared at her. "He likes to kill people."

  She widened her eyes and clenched her hands tighter. Opening her mouth to voice a reply, she realized it was too late, because Mr. Woods was gone.

  Amelia didn't move from her spot. Flames licked at the wood casting eerie shadows. The thumping of her heart echoed loudly in her ears. The dangers of the city raged through her mind and she trembled.

  "Amelia? Amelia? My dear, what is it? What is wrong?" asked her father as he knelt at her feet, concern lacing his tone.

  She studied her hands.

  "What did that man say to you? Tell me."

  "Nothing. He just wanted to know if I knew someone."

  "And, did you? Did you know the criminal he sought?"

  She shook her head.

  "Are you sure? If you know something we need to catch him before he leaves. This could be very important."

  Amelia wobbled on her feet and ran from the room. Over her shoulder, she shouted, "I don't know him!"

  That night she was plagued by haunting dreams. The killer chased her through the streets of Walterborough. No matter how hard she ran he never fell more than a couple of steps behind. She awoke the next morning drenched in sweat. Exhausted, she rolled from the bed and placed a cool cloth to her head.

  She sucked in a swift breath. Grabbing her robe, she pulled it over her shoulders and raced to the study.

  Henri leaned over his desk, his spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. "Good morning dear, did you sleep well?"

  "No, my sleep was absolutely dreadful. But I need your help."

  Amelia explained to her father and he sent Isaac to fetch Mr. Woods, who was said to be staying in Bayou Sara. Amelia paced the study. Her mother urged her to eat and dress before he arrived but she refused. Every detail of the monster in the drawing came back to her. His smell, his tattered clothing, the black of his teeth.

  The door opened and Isaac escorted Mr. Woods and another inside.

  "Isaac, you may leave us."

  "No, Miss Amelia, I don't think I should."

  "Leave us! I will explain to Father. I must speak to these men alone."

  Isaac nodded and backed out closing the door behind him.

  Josh waited until they were alone. Starting at her feet, he perused her body. "Would you like us to come back at another time?"

  She ignored his reaction to her nightly attire, and said, "No, present your friend and let us be about our business."

  "This is Fredric St. Martin, a fellow lawmen."

  Amelia curtseyed. "Nice to meet you. Now here is what I know. The man you seek, his name is Miles Jones. Or at least that is the name he is currently using. He lives on a plantation not far from my sister's. I've drawn a map for you there on the desk. He fancies himself as marrying and settling down."

  "And?"

  "That is all I know. He made claims against my brother-in-law's land and attempted to take it if I or a Miss Cassidy Kyle did not marry him."

  "Interesting," said Josh.

  "And did Miss Kyle marry Mr. Jones?" asked Fredric.

  "Not to my knowledge. In fact I don't know what occurred on that front. Miss Kyle is a flirt and might be seen with any matter of men."

  "You don't seem to like her very much," said Josh.

  "I don't. She deliberately tried to use the man I love to make another jealous. The consequences of her actions seemed not to affect her in the slightest," said Amelia crossing her arms protectively over her chest.

  "I see," said Fredric, seemingly unimpressed.

  "I've told you everything I know. He lives in a plantation next to my sister, don't you understand what this means! You must hasten there and collect him. My family is not safe."

  "Indeed they are not, but I need to know why you are telling us now?"

  She bit her lip. "I should have told you yesterday, but I feared you were an emissary for Mr. Jones."

  "Hmm, would you like to tell me what changed your mind?"

  Amelia studied her clasped hands. "I fear harm to my sister more than I do myself."

  Josh nodded. "Then we will do everything in our power to protect them." Josh rose and signaled Fredric to follow.

  "You will let me know if you find him," said Amelia.

  "I don't know if that will be possible. Keep in contact with your sister. I'm sure his capture will be in the local newspapers," said Josh.

  The door opened and Cora stepped in front of the exiting men. "Hello, I'm Cora Beaumont."

  Josh tipped his hat but Fredric ignored her and walked past.

  "Don't worry about him, miss, he hasn't learned how to respect ladies," said Josh, with a smile.

  "Maybe someone should tell him he will get more with honey than with vinegar," commented Cora.

  "Perhaps, but I think I'll do it when he is less sur
ly."

  Fredric waited at the front door. He grunted and Josh dipped his hat. "Nice meeting you."

  Amelia stared at their retreating forms. Would normal life ever resume?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The parchment lay before him awaiting his signature.

  "Are you sure you want to do this Charles?" asked Stephen. For weeks they'd discussed his decision and for weeks Charles had been set on his course, but now that the paper stretched before him he hesitated.

  "This is the right thing to do."

  "If you're sure."

  "Yes, I'm sure. I've buried the letters so no one will ever know Victor didn't belong to my grandfather and I'm signing away every legal right I ever had to the Vincent Estate."

  "I still don't understand why the sudden change of heart. I mean you could have taken it all back."

  "True. I had the case and the rights to do so, but something Cora said changed my mind," said Charles.

  "Cora? You've got to be kidding."

  "No, believe it or not it was her."

  "What in the world could she have said to change your mind that I haven't said a thousand times?" asked Stephen.

  "She made me realize Victor gave me something I couldn't give myself."

  "Which is?"

  "Freedom."

  The word rolled off his tongue. Charles smiled, held the quill in his hand, and swiped his signature on the line. All rights to regaining the Vincent property were gone.

  "There. It is, finished."

  "What will you do now? Stay in the cabin and make toys."

  "Right now I have a few loose ends to tie up. After which I foresee a trip in my future."

  "Then you really are going to do it. You're going to leave me here," said Stephen.

  "You can see me when you bring Millie home for a visit."

  They shared a smile before patting each other on the back.

  Stephen posted the letter. Charles watched the fire as a lifetime full of memories in this room swept over him. Sadness should be avoided. He was set on a path to make new memories.

  "I must go. I'll return before my departure."

  Stephen nodded. "Be careful, my brother."

  Charles remained silent. Along the road, he spotted two figures. They raised their hands to catch his attention and he stopped.

  "We're looking for the home of a Mr. Miles Jones? Could you perhaps point us in the right direction?"

  One of the men shifted on his seat and Charles noted a pistol strapped to his side. If he'd had any love loss for Mr. Jones he would have remained silent. Instead, he said, "If you go along this road it is the second entrance on the left. You can't miss it."

  "Much obliged." One man tipped his hat as they sped away.

  Charles continued to the cabin. Inside, he packed. Those things he didn't take were left in place. No one would bother them.

  That night as he lay in bed, he stared at the ceiling and visualized Amelia's face. Would she forgive him for letting her leave? He rolled onto his side and punched his pillow. What if she no longer loved him? What if all the words she'd spoken had been because she knew he wouldn't or couldn't leave?

  He hadn't told her about the letters. The Christmas gift she laid at his feet gave him a choice, one he'd hadn't had in a long time. How would she feel if she knew he'd chosen the land first and her second? Betrayed?

  What had he done?

  ****

  Charles stood on Stephen's doorstep. A blurry eyed Stephen opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

  "Why didn't a servant answer? I didn't mean to wake you. I mean I could have waited in the study or something. Why are you answering the door?"

  "Stop rambling. The twins were up all night and I slept downstairs. I heard the knocking before anyone else."

  "Very well. I need to speak with you."

  Stephen stepped back and Charles entered. In the study, Charles expressed his concerns. "She will never forgive me. What will I say? I thought it would be simple. I just show up on her doorstep and tell her I love her, and I'll stay with her in Louisiana and everything would be dandy but then I remembered that a month has passed and I chose land over her."

  "She knows you lost the land already, Charles."

  "Yes, but she doesn't know I had the opportunity to take it back."

  "Well, umm, about that."

  "Oh, no, don't tell me."

  "Millie mailed her a letter and told her about the great gift you discovered after reading the love letters. She probably would have told her in person if we'd let her in on the secret while Amelia was here but since she learned late in the game," he shrugged, "I'm sorry."

  "She told her? Amelia knows I chose the land over her! This is a disaster."

  Stephen said, "No. Don't think of it like that. I'm sure if you show up and tell her what you told me, she will understand."

  "Sure she will. A woman loves to think they were your second choice. Why don't I just go ahead and call her fat and unattractive!"

  "Charles, you're being ridiculous. Use this to your advantage. You chose her over the land not the other way around."

  Surely Stephen was right and he was just being foolish. He massaged his temple.

  With the plans finalized for his trip south, Charles stayed the remainder of the week with Stephen and his family. The departure was bittersweet. However it was the only way to procure his future.

  He waved goodbye from the carriage window. Tears coursed along the cheeks of the family members. Stephen waved until the carriage left the grounds. He gulped back his fear and concentrated on seeking Amelia's favor once again.

  ****

  Word arrived by the postmaster. It was a local South Carolina newspaper. Inside an article read:

  Mr. Miles Jones, resident of Walterborough for more than ten years, was apprehended today outside his plantation home. He is wanted in over twelve murders across several states. Josh Woods and Fredric St. Martin, the arresting officers, refused to comment.

  "Do you feel better now?" asked Henri.

  "Yes, Father, immensely."

  Amelia turned the pages and gasped.

  "What? What is it?" asked Cora.

  "You're not going to believe this."

  "Try me."

  "Victor and Cassidy married."

  "They did?" said Cora, trying to push her way over Amelia to study the paper.

  "It says right here they exchanged nuptials at the First Baptist Church in Charleston on February first. In attendance were the bride's father, Judge T. Kyle, and Governor R. Hayne."

  "Amazing. I wonder how she convinced him to marry her after all her spouting off about not living at the plantation and wanting to stay in the city."

  Amelia sucked on her lip and Henri sent Cora a scathing look.

  "What? I didn't say anything."

  "Cora, go to your room," said her mother.

  "What? But I didn't do anything."

  Amelia sighed. "It's all right. It's not her fault. I would say Miss Kyle was able to convince Victor to marry her because Charles took the plantation away from him."

  "He what? But how?" asked Cora looking back and forth between Amelia and her parents.

  Amelia stood and pulled a letter from the bookshelf. "Read this and you'll understand. If you'll excuse me I need a bit of fresh air."

  The weather on the plantation improved daily. Soon she would be able to walk alongside the river without a cloak.

  A transparent mist hovered over the water. Reaching forward she attempted to grasp it, but it filtered through her fingers and disappeared.

  She drew the cloak tighter around her frame attempting to fight the chill building in her heart. Millie's letter said her gift had allowed Charles to reacquire his land. Amelia had written back and inquired as to his happiness, but as of yet she'd received no word.

  On the banks of the river, Amelia sat on a rock. Millie had fancied this place as hers. She'd come and stared over the water and thought of great schemes that invariably
got her into heaps of trouble. Cora snuck out here on occasion too, no doubt plotting how she would overthrow all the world leaders and become supreme dictator.

  Neither of them knew she used the spot as well. The quiet, calm, solace of the place brought her peace. Even as her world crumbled around her this constant remained.

  A twig snapped and she jumped.

  "Who's there? I have a – a stick and I'm not afraid to use it," Amelia said, her voice quivering.

  A figure emerged from the tree line. Amelia clasped her hand over her mouth. Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

  "It can't be," she whispered.

  "I guess that depends. Do you want it to be?"

  Gathering her skirts, she ran and fell into Charles' open arms. She lifted her face and kissed him with wild abandon.

  Pulling back, he gasped for air. "That was a better welcome than I hoped to receive."

  "Is it really you? You're not a dream, are you? Lord, knows I've thought about you enough to have you materialize out of thin air but I never thought it would actually work."

  He brushed her hair behind her ear. "It's really me."

  "Oh, in that case, what are you doing here?"

  Falling back a step, he released her. "I've come to beg your forgiveness."

  "There is nothing to be forgiven of."

  "There are many things I need forgiveness of, one of which is that I chose to stay behind and fight for something that I'd lost a long time ago, instead of accepting what I had right in front of me."

  "Charles, I–"

  He placed his finger across her lips. "Shh, don't talk, let me finish. It took me a long time to realize that what a little girl told me was true, that Victor had given me the greatest gift of all."

  "And what was that?'"

  "To pursue my dream of loving you."

  She gulped, and he fell to one knee in front of her. In his hand was a tiny box.

  "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I'm prepared to live out my days here in Bayou Sara caring for you and your entire family."

  He bowed his head and she placed her hand on his blond head. "Maybe you don't know what you're saying. Staying here and caring for my family could be a huge burden."