Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Amelia woke slowly beneath a mountain of blankets.
For several blissful seconds, she felt nothing but warmth.
The mattress beneath her was soft, the air smelled faintly of lavender, and sunlight streamed through elegant curtains.
Then confusion arrived. Her eyes flew open as she sat upright and stared around the unfamiliar room.
The chamber was beautiful. Cream-colored walls, polished furniture, and a cheerful fire occupied the space. Nothing about it looked familiar. Amelia frowned as she pushed a hand through her tangled blonde hair.
“Oh dear,” she murmured. “Either I have been abducted, or I have finally lost my mind.”
Then the memories came rushing back. The carriage.
The thief. The struggle. His hands on her dress.
The fall. The terror. Amelia gasped and threw aside the blankets.
Panic gripped her chest as she scrambled from the bed.
She looked down and discovered she was wearing a clean day dress she had never seen before.
That realization alarmed her even further.
Someone had changed her clothing while she had been unconscious.
“Wonderful,” she muttered. “This situation improves by the minute.”
“Good day,” a little voice said.
Amelia nearly screamed. She spun around so quickly that dizziness swept through her. Standing near the doorway was a small boy with dark hair and curious eyes. He looked to be about six years old. Judging by his expression, he had been staring at her for quite some time.
“Oh!” Amelia pressed a hand against her chest. “Good heavens, you frightened me.”
The boy tilted his head. “You frightened me first.”
“I did?”
“Yes.” He nodded seriously. “You looked dead yesterday.”
Amelia blinked. “That is certainly one way to begin a conversation.”
The boy seemed pleased by her answer. For several moments, they simply stared at one another.
Finally, the child stepped forward. “Who are you?”
Amelia realized she did not know whether she should answer. Then again, she did not know where she was or who he was either.
“My name is Amelia,” she said cautiously. “And who are you?”
The boy straightened proudly. “I am David Warring.”
Amelia smiled despite her confusion.
“It is lovely to meet you, David.”
“It is lovely to meet you too.”
His answer came so earnestly that she couldn’t help but like him.
David continued examining her as though she were an interesting specimen. He studied her face with open curiosity. “Are you my new governess?”
Amelia blinked. “What?”
“My governess,” he repeated. He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. “You do not look like a governess.”
“I am not certain what a governess is supposed to look like,” she said with a smile.
He considered this carefully. “Older and grumpy.”
Amelia laughed. “Thank you very much, I suppose.”
“You are welcome.” The sincerity of his response only made her laugh harder.
David looked delighted by her amusement and climbed onto a nearby chair. Amelia found herself relaxing for the first time since waking. Children possessed a remarkable ability to make frightening situations feel less frightening.
“So,” Amelia said, folding her arms, “have you had many governesses?”
“No, but Uncle Gabriel says that I will need one soon because I’m all grown up,” he said satisfactorily.
For a moment, Amelia almost forgot her circumstances. Then reality returned. She still had no idea where she was. The room was clearly part of a wealthy household, but beyond that, she knew nothing.
“David,” she said gently, “whose house is this?”
“My uncle’s.”
“I see. And you live here with your parents too?” she asked.
“Well…” David frowned. “I lived somewhere else with my sister and papa, but now, I live here with uncle.” The boy continued talking. “My papa died.”
Amelia’s smile faded. “Oh.”
“Then Uncle Gabriel became my papa.”
Amelia blinked several times. “What?”
David nodded confidently. “He looks after me now.”
“I understand,” she said.
Amelia rubbed her temple. A dull ache remained from striking her head. The conversation was not helping. Children truly lived by entirely different rules.
“I should very much like to meet this uncle-papa of yours,” she said.
David smiled. “I can take you.”
“That would be wonderful.”
Perhaps this mysterious Uncle Gabriel could explain where she was, how she had arrived here, and why she had been sleeping in his house. Those seemed like important details. She had only taken two steps when the door suddenly opened.
An elegant young woman entered. She appeared to be around sixteen and possessed dark hair and striking features. The moment she spotted David, her expression tightened.
“David!” the woman said. The boy froze. “You should not be speaking to strangers,” she continued.
David looked unimpressed. “She is not strange.”
The young woman ignored him completely. Her gaze shifted toward Amelia. The look she received was cold enough to freeze a river. Amelia straightened instinctively. The silence stretched, then stretched some more. Apparently, introductions were not forthcoming.
Finally, the young woman spoke. “You do not belong here.”
Amelia opened her mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again. “Good morning to you as well.”
The young woman remained entirely unimpressed.
David sighed. “Valerie, you are being rude.”
Valerie.
At least now Amelia had a name. Valerie folded her arms. “You should not be alone with her.”
“Why not?” David asked cocking his head to the side. Valerie looked at Amelia up and down, then lowered her voice, though Amelia could still hear. “Because we do not know who she is.”
David pointed at Amelia. “Her name is Amelia.”
Valerie looked as though she regretted asking. Amelia almost smiled. The young lady stepped forward and took David’s hand. “Come with me.”
“But I was talking,” he complained with a whiny groan as Valerie escorted him.
“You may survive the loss,” Valerie replied.
David groaned dramatically. David glanced back at Amelia.
Then Valerie swept from the room with David in tow.
The door closed behind them. Silence returned.
Amelia stared after them. She had awakened in a strange house, met a charming child, been accused of being a governess, and been insulted by a hostile young lady all within ten minutes.
Something told her the day was only getting started.
Slowly, she began pacing the room. Every few moments, she glanced toward the door as though expecting someone to enter and explain everything.
Unfortunately, life rarely cooperated so conveniently.
The only thing she knew with certainty was that she could not remain pacing in circles forever.
She stopped beside the window and folded her arms tightly. Her first instinct was to return home. Any sensible young woman would do exactly that. Then reality struck her with unpleasant force.
Home is no longer an option.
The moment she returned to London, her parents would seize control of her life again.
Her mother would cry, lecture, and manipulate in equal measure.
Her father would become furious. Then they would drag her straight back to the Duke of Mansfield and force the engagement forward. Amelia grimaced at the thought.
“No,” she muttered aloud, shaking her head. “I escaped one prison only to walk willingly back into another?”
The idea was absurd. Terrifyingly absurd. Which meant her family would likely approve of it. A sigh escaped her lips. She had money for perhaps a few weeks at most. No home. No employment. No plan worth mentioning. The future stretched before her like a fog-covered road.
“Excellent,” she muttered. “Everything is proceeding terribly.”
Unable to sit still any longer, Amelia cautiously opened the bedchamber door.
The corridor beyond was quiet. Sunlight spilled through tall windows and illuminated expensive carpets and polished wood.
Whoever owned this house possessed considerable wealth.
The architecture alone made that painfully obvious.
She wandered carefully down the corridor. Every few moments, she glanced behind her. She still knew almost nothing about her mysterious rescuer. For all she knew, she had escaped one dangerous man only to find herself dependent upon another.
The thought made her stomach tighten. Suddenly, a loud bark shattered the silence. Amelia gasped. A huge dog came charging around the corner directly toward her. Every terrible memory from the previous night returned at once.
The road. The struggle. The fear. The barking. Amelia froze.
“Oh no.”
The animal skidded to a stop only inches away. Its tail immediately began wagging. Amelia blinked. The dog blinked back. Then it enthusiastically licked her hand.
“Oh.”
The enormous beast wagged harder.
“You are significantly friendlier than your entrance suggested,” Amelia said.
The dog seemed pleased by the observation.
A deep male voice spoke from behind her. “He likes you.”
Amelia spun around to respond. The words died in her throat.
The man standing there was unlike anyone she had ever met.
He was exceptionally tall with broad shoulders and a powerful athletic build.
Dark hair framed a striking face made even more intimidating by stern grey eyes.
His clothing was elegant. Everything about him radiated authority.
Good heavens.
Amelia promptly forgot every sensible thought in her head. For a moment, she simply stared at him.
Is this the man who rescued me?
It seemed like the same deep voice she had heard through the haze of fear and fading consciousness the previous night.
“I suppose I owe him my thanks as well,” she said, gesturing towards the dog with a small smile, “though mostly I owe them to you.”
“There is no need,” the man replied, his expression remaining completely unreadable as the dog trotted toward him.
“There absolutely is,” Amelia insisted, taking a few steps towards him. “I remember very little after striking my head, but I remember enough. You rescued me from that vile carriage driver.”