Heiress On The Run. Laura MartinЧитать онлайн книгу.
for a long time, but in his youth he’d experienced enough to know when a woman wanted to kiss him. She’d even began to lean in, swaying towards him, but then something had happened. Amelia had stiffened, a look of horror had passed over her face and now she’d backed away to a more respectable distance.
He found himself a little disappointed. He shouldn’t want to kiss this enigmatic little minx, but the idea of tasting her lips, just once, was rather enticing. Before he could stop the thought it had taken hold and all the guilt and feelings of betrayal it conjured up were right there with it. Quickly he balled both his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to try to distract himself. He knew his wife was dead and gone, nothing would ever bring her back, but he owed it to her to honour her memory.
‘Shall we find the stagecoach?’ Amelia said formally once she’d recovered some of her composure.
Edward stepped out from behind the clock tower and waited for Amelia to follow. Before she ventured out into the open square, she checked each direction, her head swivelling this way and that like a skittish horse.
‘There’s no one poised and waiting to attack you,’ Edward said impatiently as she eventually stepped out into the square.
She gave him a withering look, still checking each direction every few seconds. He wondered what she was afraid of. There was an air of innocence about Amelia, the demeanour of someone who hadn’t experienced much of the world on their own, so he couldn’t imagine she’d got mixed up in anything too heinous, although maybe the bloodstains on her clothes were evidence against that opinion.
Edward gently took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm and guided her further along the high street to the point where the stagecoach stopped to pick up passengers. Now they were nearing the point of farewell Edward felt a great weight being lifted from his shoulders. He had found it difficult sharing his home even just for one short night and was quite looking forward to getting back to the peace and quiet of an empty house. For a second he felt a pang of sadness. Once, long ago, he had enjoyed noise and company and laughter. With a sideways glance at Amelia he rallied. Now was not the time to waver in his resolution to put this troubled young woman on a stagecoach and wave her on her way.
If Jane were here, standing beside him and giving advice in that calm and sensible way of hers, she’d tell him to start living, to stop stagnating. She’d probably convince him to take pity on Amelia, shelter her from whatever trouble she was running from and learn once again to tolerate the company of others. Edward knew one day he would have to pick up the reins of his life again, to do more than spend his time sketching and reading, but with living came memories and he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront those yet.
‘You’re looking rather serious,’ Amelia said as they slowed to a stop at the side of the road.
‘Do you need any money?’ Edward asked, knowing he was avoiding Amelia’s comment.
She bit her bottom lip and fidgeted a little. It was the curse of the human race not to be able to ask for monetary help when they needed it.
‘Maybe just a little something to help you on your way,’ he said, placing a hand into his coat pocket.
One second he was standing at the side of the road, reaching for his coin purse, the next he was lying in some rather prickly bushes with Amelia on top of him.
‘What...?’ he began, but Amelia pressed a finger against his lips.
He tried to speak again, but was silenced by the look of pure terror in Amelia’s eyes. For almost a minute they lay there, Amelia frozen by fear and he trapped under her body. They were half-hidden from the road, but if anyone walked passed they would have a lot of explaining to do.
When another minute had passed without Amelia explaining or letting him up Edward began to feel the damp from the ground soaking into his trousers.
‘Will you tell me what’s going on, woman?’ he asked, quietly but firmly.
Amelia’s eyes widened with shock and fear and immediately Edward regretted his tone of voice.
‘Come, let’s stand up,’ he said more softly.
Amelia allowed him to help her to her feet, although he noticed she did not step back out on to the road, and her restraining hand on his arm stopped him from doing so too. For an instant Edward missed the warmth of her body as it had been pressed against his, but soon the feeling was replaced by irritation. The woman was crazy. First darting behind the clock tower and now wrestling him to the ground whilst they waited for the stagecoach.
‘Is he still there?’ Amelia hissed.
‘Who?’
She didn’t answer so Edward stepped forward and looked up and down the lane. It was completely empty. Maybe there was something not quite right in Amelia’s head. She seemed normal, if not conventional, most of the time, but then she went and did things like this. Then he remembered the blood-soaked clothes and the state Amelia had been in the night before and softened slightly. Something bad had occurred in Amelia’s life recently. That must be what was driving this fear.
‘There’s no one there.’ Edward wondered if this was another of Amelia’s time-wasting ploys, but the terror in her eyes convinced him otherwise.
Warily Amelia edged forward, peering out from the bushes until she was satisfied they were alone.
‘I think you should tell me what’s going on,’ Edward said, in a voice that brooked no argument.
Amelia shook her head, tears forming in her eyes and spilling out to roll down her cheeks. Edward almost reached out to brush them away, but he stopped himself. It was an intimate gesture, too intimate. He couldn’t believe he’d even contemplated it.
‘Who did you think you saw?’
Again Amelia shook her head, still glancing furtively up and down the road.
Edward ran his hands through his hair and studied the young woman who stood before him. She was petrified, that much was clear. He didn’t know if her demons were real or imaginary, but he did have experience with living with events he’d rather forget.
His brain screamed to let her go, to get back to his reclusive existence, but his heart recognised another wounded soul. He wanted to leave, to walk off down the road without as much as a backwards glance, but something was holding him back. Edward even tried placing one foot in front of another, but his body just wouldn’t obey his commands. Something sparked inside him, something that he thought was long dead and buried. He wasn’t sure if it was compassion or pity, but he realised he didn’t have it in him to abandon Amelia here in such a state of dread. For years he might have suppressed his humanity through lack of interaction, but he’d been brought up to be kind and chivalrous and there were a few strands of those characteristics that refused to leave him despite years of disuse.
‘Amelia, look at me.’ He grasped her by the arms and turned her to face him. She looked distractedly around her. ‘I will make you a bargain,’ he said.
This caught her attention.
‘You tell me exactly what is going on, what trouble you’re in, and I promise to help you as much as I can.’
She shook her head, ‘I can’t.’
‘Then you’re on your own.’
Edward had only taken two steps before he felt her clutching at his sleeve.
‘Please don’t leave me here.’
It would be so easy to give in to her beseeching eyes, but Edward knew he had to stand strong.
‘Then tell me what has you so scared.’
‘I’ve done something terrible,’ Amelia said quietly.
He looked at her youthful, innocent face, and wondered what it was she could have done that was making her quite so worried.
‘What?’
He watched