Chapter 1 #2
“I am not being dramatic, and I am not frightened. I cannot do this, and I need you to hear me say it without immediately reaching for a solution,” Amelia argued with a steady tone.
“I have been agreeable my entire life. I have done everything Mama asked and everything the season required, and I kept telling myself the right situation would come, and I would learn to be content.” She stopped.
“And then you stood up in that church for me, again, and I thought, my younger sister fights my battles because I have never once fought my own.”
“You would do the same for me without a second thought,” Bethany said.
“That is not the point,” Amelia said. “I am four-and-twenty years old, and I have never in my life chosen a single thing for myself. Not where I live, not who I spend my time with, not who I am going to marry.” She continued. “I will not be handed to another stranger.”
Amelia felt a spark inside of her. She did not know what was being ignited, but it was something new, different, and perhaps… reckless.
“I just need to not be in the room. I need,” She stopped. Pressed her fingers briefly to her mouth. “I need five minutes where no one is looking at me and deciding whether I am adequate.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word.
“I am not going to do anything foolish,” she said. “I only need some air. I only need to think.”
Amelia stepped toward the door. Her heart pounded louder than the thunder outside.
“Please, trust me to handle my own life. Just this once,” Amelia urged her sister.
Bethany held her gaze for a long moment, then spoke. “If this goes wrong,” she said, “I reserve the right to be entirely insufferable about it.”
Amelia smiled properly this time. “I know.” She moved to the door, paused with one hand on the frame, and looked back. Her voice was soft but did not waver. “Thank you. For the church and for everything before it. I love you very much.”
Then she was through the door, and her footsteps were quick down the corridor.
As long as she remained under her parents’ control, they would continue arranging her future.
They would continue deciding whom she married, where she lived, and how she spent her life.
One failed engagement had not stopped them.
Being abandoned at the altar had not stopped them. Nothing would stop them.
Unless I do something drastic.
A flash of lightning illuminated the gardens once more. Amelia stared into the darkness. Slowly, a reckless smile appeared. The plan forming inside her mind was outrageous. It was dangerous. It was probably foolish.
Which means it might finally work.
Outside, thunder shook the heavens. Inside, Amelia Shirley began plotting her escape.
She climbed into her parents’ carriage. Rain soaked her cloak as she seized the reins. The horses shifted restlessly beneath the flashes of lightning. Amelia stared down at them with growing alarm.
“Oh dear,” she muttered. “I have never actually stolen anything before.” She paused. “Does borrowing a carriage without permission count as stealing?” Unfortunately, there was nobody present to answer.
She did not remember deciding to flee. One moment, she had been standing beside the window at Mansfield House while thunder rattled the glass, and the next, she was hurrying through dark corridors with her heart pounding wildly.
Her plan had formed so quickly that it scarcely felt like a plan at all.
It felt more like desperation wearing the disguise of courage.
A clap of thunder echoed overhead. Amelia jumped and flicked the reins. The horses surged forward. The carriage lurched so violently that she nearly fell from the seat.
“Good heavens!” she squeaked, clutching desperately at the leather straps. There was no turning back now.
The countryside rushed past in darkness.
Rain continued pouring from the heavens while Amelia drove with increasing panic.
She had ridden horses her entire life, but handling a carriage at such speed felt entirely different.
Her heart raced with every mile she placed between herself and Mansfield House.
She simply could not live another second of her life at the mercy of others’ whims. It had finally taken its toll, causing her mind to be confused and her actions to be rash.
“I will not survive if I stay,” Amelia muttered to herself.
Hours later, London finally appeared just as dawn was approaching.
Amelia guided the carriage through familiar streets with growing urgency.
Her parents would certainly send people after her once they discovered her absence.
She needed supplies. She needed money. Most importantly, she needed to disappear before anyone thought to search Shirley House.
The carriage rolled to a stop behind the London townhouse.
Amelia climbed down and hurried toward a side entrance.
Rainwater dripped from her blonde hair onto her shoulders.
She slipped inside, then froze at the sound of voices somewhere nearby.
Panic surged through her. If the servants saw her, word would reach her parents.
Keeping close to the walls, she hurried upstairs. Every creaking floorboard sounded as loud as cannon fire. Her pulse hammered in her ears. At last, she reached her bedchamber and quickly shut the door behind her. Only then did she allow herself a shaky breath.
“This is madness,” she whispered. The room offered no disagreement.
Amelia rushed toward her wardrobe and began pulling out clothing. Then she stopped. A large trunk would be impossible to carry. Two trunks would be even worse. She stared helplessly at her belongings before forcing herself to think practically.
“Essentials only,” she muttered. “Whatever those are.”
A small traveling bag quickly filled with a few dresses, undergarments, toiletries, and jewelry to bargain with. She stuffed extra coins into a purse. Her hands trembled throughout the process. Every passing second increased the risk of discovery. At any moment, a servant might knock on her door.
When the bag was finally packed, she glanced around the room one last time. For years, this chamber had been her refuge. Yet it had also been a cage. Everything her parents controlled seemed designed to keep her trapped. Amelia squared her shoulders and picked up the bag.