Chapter 6
Amelia rose warily to her feet, eyeing the man standing across from her. As promised, Letitia left the door open a few inches. Still, they were very much alone in the room.
That was certainly a new feeling. Amongst the ton, Amelia knew that it wasn’t proper for a lady to be alone with a gentleman under any circumstances. She could be ruined by it.
Amelia was not a proper lady, and so her reputation would not be under as much scrutiny, but still. If a woman diverged from the strict paths that society had laid out for her, she faced harsh and immediate consequences. Sometimes it was simply best to obey.
Had she been alone with a gentleman before? Not in the modiste’s shop, for sure. Gentlemen rarely visited, and if they did, they were in a tizzy of awkwardness, trying to buy gloves or ribbons or something for a woman of their acquaintance.
Stay calm. This is the closest you’ve come to freedom all day. Embrace the opportunity.
She could still taste the over-sweetened flavor of Letitia’s tea, the sweetness clinging to the insides of her teeth.
At home, they never put sugar in their tea.
Tea was expensive enough, and while sugar would have helped disguise the taste of their over-stewed, reused tea leaves, it was simply too expensive to waste on tea.
Amelia swallowed hard, trying to work some moisture into her mouth to wash away the taste, and waited for Stephen to speak first.
He stared straight back at her. A faint line appeared between his brows, his tall, broad body tight and stiff.
He’s uncomfortable, she realized in surprise. As uncomfortable as I am.
“Should I call you Stephen or Orion?” she heard herself say, voice quavering. “Or would you prefer Your Grace?”
He gave a thin smile. “My grandmother has taken a liking to you,” he said, ignoring her question.
Amelia scraped her teeth along her lower lip. “She is a wonderful woman. Very kind.”
“You can tell that already, can you?”
She shrugged. “I have a hunch. First impressions matter, you know.”
Was that too pointed a thing to say? Probably.
The corner of Stephen’s mouth twitched, as though he was considering a smile but suppressed it at the last moment.
“Are you implying that I did not make as fine a first impression as my grandmother? That I’m not as delightful a person as she is?” he remarked sardonically.
“I think we would be in an easier situation if Letitia’s grandson were a little more like her,” Amelia retorted, before she could stop herself.
Quiet, fool! What were you thinking? Your comfort and perhaps your very future rest in this man’s large hands. Perhaps insulting him is not the most sensible choice.
Stephen only gave a tight, amused smile. At least, it could have been amusing. It seemed just as easily the grin of a hungry wolf, preparing to pounce on its prey.
The prey being, of course, Amelia.
“I will pretend that you did not just insult me to my face, after having invaded my home,” he retorted.
Amelia reddened further. “I did not mean to invade your home. I apologized, did I not? How many apologies will you need?”
“I shall let you know when you reach the required amount,” he said sweetly. “Since tea has been ordered, I shall help myself to a cup, if you’ll allow it.”
He wasn’t really asking, so Amelia stayed silent. He poured himself a cup of tea and drained the whole thing at once, despite the steam rising from the hot liquid.
Silence followed, humid and uncomfortable, and Amelia found herself longing to break it. At last, she cleared her throat awkwardly, twisting her fingers together.
“Is your grandmother really searching for a companion?” she asked.
Stephen raised his thick eyebrows at her over the rim of the cup.
“She has mentioned it once or twice, yes. I did not think she was serious. You see, my grandmother has always been a proud woman. She had plenty of friends, and of course, her family. She is old now, but she was once a pillar of Society, if you can imagine that.”
“I can imagine it. She is a force of nature.”
That earned her another twitch of his lips.
“She would never have stooped to pay for company,” he added, setting down the empty cup with a clatter.
“But now, her friends call less often than ever before. She is old, tired, and lacks the energy she once had. If she is to hire a companion, I would want to select that woman myself. I would choose very carefully.”
Be quiet now, Amelia. Stay quiet and respectful, and don’t voice any unusual opinions. That is your best bet here.
“I would like to be your grandmother’s companion.”
Bother. I wasn’t supposed to say that.
Facing Stephen head-on, she had the privilege of watching surprise briefly cross his features before the expression was tucked demurely away.
She waited for a bark of laughter, perhaps a roll of his eyes, or maybe for him not to acknowledge her comment altogether. Instead, he folded his arms tightly across his chest, leaned back, and pursed his lips.
“What a fascinating concept. And why would you like that?”
Amelia breathed out slowly. For the first time since she’d arrived at this place, she spotted a glimmer of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. A spark of hope. A spark of something.
It was probably silly to hang onto the concept, but she did it anyway. That was the thing about hope, wasn’t it? It persisted, even when it was foolish.
Hope was possibly the stupidest emotion a human could feel. Except for love, of course.
“I think that Her Grace is an interesting woman. She seems kind, and clever, and I… I’d like to be useful to her.
And if you intend to keep me here much longer, I will lose my job at the modiste’s.
In fact, I will be dismissed if I don’t show up tomorrow.
I can barely feed my siblings as it is. Marjory is barely fifteen, and I do not want her to work as a seamstress.
Not that she can sew a straight seam as it is.
And Nancy is only a little girl, she can’t—”
“Enough,” he interrupted. “Your affection for your sisters is touching. I noticed it before, when you were willing to do just about anything to spare Miss Spectacles from gaol. Tell me, do you truly believe that shielding them from every buffet of the world’s wind will help them?”
She bristled. “Of course it will. What are you saying?”
“You strike me as a clever woman, Amelia. And tough. Do you think that toughness comes from being allowed to glide easily through life? No, I fancy not. Hardships, unpleasant as they are, make us stronger. This is a fact that can’t be argued against.”
“I can argue against it. Hardships may make us stronger, but do they make us better people?”
“I did not claim that they did.”
She pressed her lips together. “And I suppose you believe that only strength matters in life.”
“I know that it does.”
“How can you know a thing about hardships? You are a duke. A rich, powerful man. I daresay you have never encountered a problem in your life that money cannot solve!”
Her voice had risen to a shout, echoing across the room. As it faded away, her heart sank into her stomach. What was she thinking?
Stephen stared at her, his expression blank, and she gulped audibly.
“Goodness, what a fine thing it is to be Miss Amelia Holt,” he stated, slowly and evenly. “How nice to know everything about everybody, and be confident to always draw the right conclusion.”
“So I am wrong, then?” she managed, wondering if she should back away a little.
When had they moved so close? He was within arm’s reach now, and she was sure that there had been more space between them when the conversation began.
“I won’t comment on the correctness of your conclusions. A gentleman would never correct a lady.”
“Fortunately, I am not a lady.”
He smiled thinly. “What a piece of luck for us both. Here is my proposition. Your brother, whether you claim him or not, took my life. So, I shall take yours.”
Amelia rocked back on her heels, mind reeling.
Took his life? How? And what on earth does he mean when he says he’ll take my life? He said he meant me no harm. Did he lie? I was so sure that he was not the kind of man who lies easily.
“For three months, that is,” Stephen added, with a thoughtful smile.
“You’ll take my life for three months?” Amelia repeated slowly, brow furrowing. “I don’t understand.”
“Fret not. I am the one who needs to understand,” he responded, flashing her that wolfish smile once more. “Three months. That is all it will take to ruin the Viscount’s reputation. In the meantime, you’ll stay here. You will not leave the estate, not even the house.”
“I don’t understand,” Amelia scoffed. “How will keeping me here ruin my brother’s reputation? What benefit is this to anyone?”
“That is my concern, not yours. Three months. In the meantime, you can serve as my grandmother’s companion.
Talk to her, keep her company, sew her dresses, whatever you like.
I called it a proposition,” he added thoughtfully, wincing.
“But that implies you have some choice in the matter. I’m afraid you don’t, my dear. ”
Amelia’s nostrils flared. Fury bubbled up inside her, hot and acrid.
He’s toying with me. This amuses him. He likes to let me believe that I might be free, only to snatch the hope away from me.
And there is not a single thing I can do about it.
She took a step toward him, jabbing a finger at his chest. She carefully kept her fingertip from making contact, of course.
“You are a cruel man,” she bit out. “You plan to keep me here for three months? How will my sisters live? I daresay you’ll consider feeding me, but what of Marjory and Nancy?
We have rent to pay, food to buy, and without my work at the modiste’s, there won’t be any money! How could you be so cruel?”
Something seemed to snap in Stephen’s eyes. He lunged forward, bringing his face right to hers so that their noses almost touched.
“My dear girl, you have no idea of how cruel I can be,” he snarled, eyes darkening.
A bubbling sensation swept through Amelia’s insides. It was not only anger; there was something else in there, an ache that she did not want to name. Sometimes these confusing emotions were better left alone.
“You have no care for how I feel, then?” she demanded, clenching her jaw.
Surely the key here was to hold her ground. Show him that she could not be intimidated. Or not easily intimidated, at the very least.
“Please! If you could save somebody you loved, surely you would do it? Surely you would be willing to sacrifice something, anything, just to keep them safe?”
The words came pouring out of her mouth, unstoppable, breaking over him like waves over a rocky wall.
He blinked more rapidly than before, and something flashed across his face. Pain?
She couldn’t identify the emotion, and it was gone in the blink of an eye. Heat prickled across her skin, even more intensely than when she had sat beside the fire. It couldn’t be plain heat; it had to be something else.
Was it him? Was he the one muddying up her head and causing that strange, intense prickle that ran up and down her spine?
I cannot feel attraction to this man. I cannot. He has kidnapped me and threatened to keep me away from my siblings. He is a monster.
Her thoughts came very clearly, her head apparently having decided that Stephen was not to be trusted. And yet the feeling did not ebb.
I need space. Air.
The heat was too intense, and the musky scent of leather seemed to ooze from his skin.
Amelia stumbled back before she realized she had decided to move.
The door. The door was just there, and it was open.
Letitia would be there, although a sensible voice at the back of Amelia’s head pointed out that there was no seat in the hall and that the old woman would not be able to stand right outside on her two feet for so long, but perhaps…
She was seized by the shoulders and spun toward the wall. Not shoved, exactly, but her back thumped against the wall. Stephen loomed over her, palm pressing against the wall near her head.
“Do not dare speak to me of loss,” he growled, his eyes flashing.
“Do not presume I do not know what you mean. Do you think grief is something only you can experience? Do you think money or an influential family can save somebody, anybody, from danger? You think my money and title protect me, do you?”
“I know they do,” she shot back.
“You are wrong. Perhaps they protect me now, but I was not always a duke.”
She blinked, frowning.
What did that mean? Surely a duke’s son carried the same power as a duke.
In the ton, a titled man’s heir was like an extension of himself.
A duke’s heir mattered. A seamstress, however—and a bastard at that—was nobody, and would never be anybody.
It was a simple enough concept, and Amelia was surprised that Stephen did not understand it.
She found that the words to explain did not come easily. It was easier to say nothing, to hold her tongue and wait for him to speak.
Some powerful emotion shook him, and more hurt flashed in his eyes. Abruptly, he pushed back, taking a few long steps away from her. She let out a ragged breath as he did so, surprised that she had been holding her breath.
“Three months,” Stephen said, his voice hoarse.
He seemed breathless, too, as if he had been holding his breath. That was ridiculous, however. Whatever emotion had shaken him had passed, and the cool, crisp Orion was back.
Amelia tried to compose herself, too. It was not as easy as she’d thought. Her chest felt tight, that odd sensation in her stomach tugging away at her insides. The prickling heat was back, too, even though she was as far away from the fire as possible.
It’s not him. Feeling any twinge of attraction to the man who has kidnapped me and is keeping me from my sisters is a very bad idea.
“Three months?” she echoed.
“My proposition,” he responded tightly, lifting his chin.
“You’ll stay here for three months and serve as my grandmother’s companion.
That is all you need to know right now. As for your sisters, they can visit you as often as they like.
I have no interest in punishing them, even Miss Spectacles, who stole my father’s pocket watch.
I want that back, by the way. They may visit you here, but you may not leave. ”
“I—”
“This is not a subject I am ready to discuss,” he interrupted, his voice dropping to a growl.
“You are going nowhere, Amelia. I would advise you not to try to escape. I have no interest in hurting you or making your life miserable, but I will not be disobeyed. Try to leave, or make a daring escape, and I shall catch you. And when I do, there’ll be consequences. Do you doubt me?”
She swallowed. “No, I do not doubt you.”
“Good,” he responded, almost approvingly. “Then I shall leave you to my grandmother’s company. Farewell for now, Miss Holt.”