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Vows of Honor: Secrets of Scarlett Hall Book 6 Page 3
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Amelia sat back. Was he in fact propositioning her? “I am employed, or rather I will be soon. I do not wish to work for you.”
For some reason, the man’s jaw tightened and he leaned back in his chair. “I was not offering you a position. I merely was trying to explain what I thought.” His face had reddened and he pointed a finger at her using the hand that held his glass, sloshing brandy over the rim. “This is why there is a separation between your kind and mine.”
Setting her unfinished glass of wine on the table, Amelia rose. She was not in this man’s employ and yet he felt the need to talk down to her?
“Thank you again for your aid earlier.” She took a coin from her reticule and placed it on the table.
“I told you I would pay for the drink,” he snapped. “I do not want your money.”
“I was not asking,” she said, giving him a triumphant smile when he glared at her. “I was merely showing you that my kind do not allow your kind to buy their drinks.” She gave him a firm nod. Turning, her head held high, Amelia headed toward her room, ignoring his open jaw.
What a shame that the man had such a horrid temper, for he was quite handsome. Yet, it did not matter, for tomorrow, she would leave for Scarlett Hall and hopefully would never see him again.
Chapter Three
Christopher was not eager to begin the journey home. His life was in ruin, and he had no one to blame but Miss Sarah Pentworth, his former fiancée. He took out the ring meant to be placed on Sarah’s finger, the gold band to represent an agreement to which they had come. It was interesting how she had no qualms in breaking that agreement.
Unfortunately, she had not been the first. He had been engaged one time before, to a woman he dared say he loved. She had readily accepted his proposal, but now that he could look back on that time, she had been buying time, for not two weeks later, word of her marriage to another came to him. The look of disappointment on his father’s features had only worsened the pain.
It was not that he and his father had not had a good relationship, for they had always been close. Yet, how could something so simple as marriage elude Christopher? As much as he racked his brain, he was unable to come up with a single reason. Was something wrong with him?
Sighing, he replaced the ring in his pocket and left the room. His bags were already in the carriage, and as he made his way to the front of the hotel, others of the peerage filed out of the building, more than likely going to their carriages, as well. None would stay for extended periods of time, not in this tiny spy fleck of a village.
“Lord Beaumont?” Christopher turned to find the clerk signaling him. “May I have a word with you?”
Christopher sighed and glanced about. “What is it? I have a long journey ahead of me.”
The man nodded as he slid a silver coin across the counter. “Your room was paid for by a young lady last night.”
“Young lady?” Christopher asked, stumped for a moment. Then his thoughts turned to Amelia, the lovely blue-eyed beauty from the tavern. Yet, how could a simple servant have the means to pay for his room, even a room as modest as his? “Did she say anything?”
The man leaned forward and lowered his voice. “She did, although you may not be pleased to hear what she had to say.”
Christopher’s curiosity grew. “Tell me.”
“Her exact words were as follows,” the man cleared his throat. “‘Not all of us are liars. In fact, some of us are quite generous.’”
Christopher smiled to himself. The servant girl was indeed fascinating. Placing the coin in his pocket, he chuckled.
“What does it mean?” the clerk asked.
“That is none of your concern,” Christopher replied. “Good day to you.” Turning from the counter, he glanced to his left and smiled. In the midst of a sea of lower-class guests walked Amelia. The woman stood out from the others, her beauty radiating like a candle in a darkened room. Yet, it was the smile she wore, a look of confidence and the victory of what she had done. In her hand she carried a carpet bag that had seen better days.
She stopped to peer into her bag, and an odd feeling came over Christopher. For some reason he could not explain, he wished to greet her. Yet, how could he do so? He was a gentleman and she just a servant. Last night had been a rare exception, and he could not be seen conversing with her again. Not out here in the open where anyone could see. He shook his head to clear the thoughts. He must be going mad. Yes, that explained it.
As he moved to leave, two men entered the hotel. Both wore fine coats, but an uneasiness at their appearance washed over Christopher. Perhaps it was the way they scanned the crowd, their eyes raking over everyone regardless of station, like hunters searching for prey. Yes, these men were hunting someone.
“There she is,” one said, pointing toward the hallway as he pushed dark hair from his face.
Christopher turned to see Amelia staring wide-eyed at the men before turning and hurrying back down the hallway from where she had just come.
The two men wasted no time in pushing through the throng of people, pushing them out of their way to sounds of disapproval ringing through the room.
Without thinking, Christopher stepped in front of them, his head down as if focused on something in his hands and thus blocking their passage.
“Move, ye fool!” one growled, a redheaded Irishman with a freckled face and pale skin.
Christopher said nothing as they pushed past him. Overcome with curiosity, he hurried to the carriage where his driver, Osmond, waited.
“My lord,” the driver said with a bow.
“I will return momentarily,” Christopher said in a rush as he tossed the small bag he carried into the carriage. He hurried around the side of the hotel and down the alleyway behind. The narrow corridor was cast in shadows, but a door swung open and Amelia emerged, the hand clutched in her hand and a terrified look on her face.
“Amelia!” he called out to her. “What are you doing? What is going on?”
The woman turned a panic-stricken face to him. “Please, help me! They are coming!”
Christopher wanted to ask who the men were, but the fear she exuded stayed his tongue. He would learn later what this was all about. The men did not have the look of constables, and he had a feeling they were up to no good. To their right sat a pile of crates, and he pointed to them. “Behind there! Hurry!”
She nodded and slid behind the crates just as the door to the inn flew open, the two men emerging into the alleyway. They glanced around with deep growls.
“Did that young girl rob you?” Christopher asked as he walked toward them. If they meant to stay, he would fight them, but he hoped to send them in the wrong direction. If only he knew where she would be going once they left.
“Yes,” the light-haired man said. “Last night my coin purse was stolen. Did you happen to see where she went?”
Christopher studied the man for a moment. It was clear he lied, but Christopher nodded all the same. “I saw her run that way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction from the crates. “You should hurry. She runs fast for a woman.”
Neither man gave any reply as they headed in the direction Christopher had indicated and soon they were out of sight.
“Well, Miss Amelia with no surname, it appears you have people after you.”
The woman peaked out from behind the crates and nodded. “I am afraid so,” she replied. “But I assure you I am no thief.”
Christopher smiled. “I cannot imagine that you are,” he said with amusement. “It has always been my philosophy to keep out of the business of others. Who or what you are is none of my concern, although I admit I am curious. Regardless, I do not believe those men will think well of me if they return and find you here. If you would like, I can offer my carriage as a means of escape. Unless you have your own form of transportation available?”
Amelia glance past him as she brushed off her coat. “I do not know,” she said hesitantly. “It is improper to ride alone with a gentleman w
ho is not my husband.”
“It would be improper for me,” Christopher corrected. “At this point, I do not care. If your reputation is more important than your life, for it appears those men mean to do you some sort of harm, then I shall say my goodbyes now and leave you to fend for yourself. I will be leaving regardless.”
She looked up and down the alleyway once more. “You will not harm me?”
Her question was valid, for any woman would wonder about her safety at the hands of a man she did not know, but the innocence in which she asked the question sent a searing to his soul.
“I will not harm you,” Christopher assured her. “Now, come. Before they return.” He extended a hand to her.
She gave him a skeptical look before placing her hand in his. Her smaller hand disappeared almost immediately in his larger.
“With swift strides, he led her to the carriage. Although Osmond had the sense to say nothing, his brows rose as Christopher handed Amelia into the vehicle.
“Do not stop for anyone,” Christopher commanded. “Especially two men who may follow.”
“Yes, my lord,” Osmond responded.
Once inside the carriage, Christopher closed the curtains and settled back into the seat. The vehicle moved forward as he studied the beauty who sat across from him.
“Now, Miss Amelia, I believe I should know to whom I am giving passage.”
The woman glanced down, drawing her bag closer. She was hiding something. What that something was, he did not know, but he was determined to find out soon enough.
***
Amelia hoped that, by looking down at her feet, Lord Beaumont would forget his question. Yet, the man continued to stare at her as if he had all the patience in the world. Her mind was focused on the two men who had come after her. She had seen them before; they worked for her grandmother, although what they did exactly she had never been certain. Now, however, it was clearer — they completed the types of tasks most decent men would see as unsavory.
If her grandmother had sent men after her, what had the old woman done to Amelia’s mother as punishment? Regret filled Amelia. Why had she agreed to run away? Perhaps she should have remained at Chatterly Estates, for was her mother’s safety not important?
As the carriage lurched forward, however, she recalled her mother’s wishes. No, there had been no choice but to leave her grandmother’s house.
“You may set your bag beside you,” Lord Beaumont said. “I promise I will not take it from you nor will I go through it. You are also welcome to place it with my luggage on top of the carriage.”
Amelia nodded. “Here will be fine,” she said as she placed the bag beside her. Through her eyelashes, she studied the man as he pulled back his dark hair and stretched his arm across the back of the bench.
“Where are you traveling?” he asked. When she did not respond, he let out a sigh Amelia found a bit over-dramatic. “You have no idea where I am going,” he said. “I may be taking you further away from your destination by the minute, and then where will you be?”
Amelia felt a sense of uncertainty. Her mother had given her strict instructions not to reveal anything about herself, but with her current circumstances, she had no choice. What he said made sense; she could end up going in the opposite direction from Rumsbury. She had to tell him the truth, or at least a version of it.
“Have you heard of a village called Rumsbury?” she asked. “It is located in Wiltshire. That is my destination. I have never been there before.”
“I do know Rumsbury,” he replied in surprise. “In fact, I live not thirty minutes from the village proper. It appears good fortune has come to you today, Miss…?”
Not wanting to avoid yet another of the man’s questions, she replied without thinking. “Parker.” She cringed. Why had she not invented a name? Now he could easily trace her back to her grandmother. What a costly mistake she may have made!
“You would not happen to be related to the Stratford Parkers, would you?” Lord Beaumont asked and then laughed. “No, of course not. So, Miss Parker, why were those two men after you?”
“The house in which I was employed, the owner did not wish me to leave. It appears he sent those men to collect me.”
“You are either a very worthy servant or you have a debt to pay,” Lord Beaumont mused. “I cannot imagine sending two ruffians after you simply for leaving your place of employment.” He shook his head and drew back the curtain.
The leaves had long fallen from the trees, and it would be several months before the landscape turned green once more. Amelia suspected she would not see her mother again before then. If ever. The thought made her heart ache, but she found hope that one day they would be reunited.
“Miss Parker, do you ignore me intentionally? If you wish to leave, you may. You will not be the first woman to run from me.”
Amelia found the statement odd and was surprised to see the man’s face turn red with anger. He had saved her this morning — and last night for that matter — and she was being nothing but rude to him. The least she could do was answer his question.
“Servants of worth are difficult to find,” she replied. “I did not realize until this morning how valued I was. I will remember this when I bargain for my wages with my next employer.”
Gone was his anger, replaced by mirth. “You are wise, Miss Parker, and I respect wisdom. I do hope you will remain with me for the entirety of the journey. I promise to be on my best behavior.”
Amelia glanced out the window. The man appeared kind, but it was difficult to know if he was what he portrayed. After what had happened in the tavern the night before, as well as with Lord Leeson, who wanted to buy her hand in marriage so he could take her to his bed, she found it difficult to know what to believe. Yet, as she studied Lord Beaumont, an odd feeling came over her. For some reason, she did not believe he would harm her.
“I accept your offer, my lord,” she said. “I do have one question, however.”
“Ask me whatever you like,” he replied with a smile.
“I am but a poor servant, and you are a noble gentleman. Why would you give me passage in your personal carriage and not expect something in return? Traveling alone with a woman goes against even the least stringent of societal rules.”
He chuckled. “For a servant, you know much about the aristocracy.”
Amelia’s heart skipped a beat. Had she revealed too much? Would he once again question whether or not she was related to one of the wealthiest families in England?
Much to her relief, he did not pursue his suspicions, if he indeed had any. “I do not know the answer to your question,” he replied. “Last night, hearing how that man spoke to you upset me. This morning, I realized that you could not be a thief, which then says that those men did not have honorable intentions. You are right. A servant would never be allowed to travel as you are, not alone with a nobleman. I would be met with great scorn if found out.” He shrugged. “However, I must admit that at this moment I do not care. Perhaps in another day I will.”
“And if you do?” Amelia asked. “Would you be kind enough to leave me close enough to a village, so I am able to find an alternative form of transportation?”
“I am many things, Miss Parker,” he said. “But I would never leave a woman — be she servant or noble — on the road to fend for herself.” He turned his attention to something outside the window. “Although, some deserve it, and more.”
Amelia was uncertain if he meant for her to hear the last, for his voice had taken on a quiet angry tone once again, and she thought it best not to inquire. Instead, she found herself gazing out the window, as well.
Her thoughts turned to her mother, and she prayed the woman was safe. Not wanting to think of what the woman may be enduring, she turned her mind to her Aunt Eleanor. She had met her aunt only once, and that had been only in passing just this past year. Would the woman welcome Amelia as her mother promised?
Well, worrying would do her no good, so she closed her e
yes and thought about the days ahead.
Chapter Four
Amelia found the carriage belonging to Lord Beaumont quite comfortable with deep cushions on dark-stained benches, the cushions being incredibly helpful with the numerous ruts in the road. The first night following their hasty exit from the village, they had stopped at a country inn, each procuring a separate room. The innkeeper gave them a suspicious look, but after a harsh word from Lord Beaumont, he busied himself with seeing them situated.
Rather than joining Lord Beaumont for dinner, Amelia had a tray sent to her room. She was much too tired to sit in a public room, and after spending the entire day with the man, she needed some time alone. Lord Beaumont did not seem perturbed, nor should he have been. How she spent her time should be of no consequence to him.
They left the following morning just after sunrise. The roads had not improved in the slightest, and after another rough patch where she had to grab the side handle to keep herself from being tossed about like a stick on the sea, Lord Beaumont grumbled.
“I swear I will return and repair these roads myself! What causes such bad fortune?”
“The rain, my lord,” Amelia replied. “Whenever it rains, the water runs –.”
“I am well aware how ruts in the road are created,” he growled. “I was not speaking of that type of bad fortune.” Amelia shrank back from his ire, and he sighed. “Forgive me. My irritation is not with you but another.”
Amelia said nothing as she looked out the window. Although she was relieved he had apologized, she wished she had another form of transportation. However, she had no choice but to continue the journey with the man. Well, perhaps she had a choice, but she saved a hefty sum by not hiring a carriage and driver of her own, funds she may need later.
She had no doubt her aunt would welcome her, for the woman had attempted to take Amelia and her mother with her when she had called several months earlier. Amelia had been excited, but her mother had refused. Amelia did not know why, but her mother was a very intelligent woman who did whatever she could for her daughter. Therefore, Amelia would pay heed to what she said.