Cinders and Ashes (Cavendish Mysteries 2)

Although she now lay still, he could sense her hesitation. “Get out of this bed before the hour is up, and I swear to God I will tie you to it.” His dire threat made her stare at him indecisively.

Did he mean it?

Amelia was wracked with indecision. She knew he posed no threat to her, yet still was loathe to allow him so close. If she did lie on the bed with him - just lie and nothing else, how could she sleep on the bed when he was gone?

Her eyes met and held his briefly, and she was struck by the warning glint in his eye. She had no doubt he would indeed tie her to the bed.

“I am perfectly fine on the floor,” she muttered, reluctantly settling down beside him. If she had to lie upon the bed, then she would keep her clothes on, thank you very much. She huffed silently, trying to ignore the warm bulk of masculinity beside her.

“You will be ill if you lie on that floor any more. Unless I am very mistaken, you have given me all but the thinnest of your blankets.” Sebastian’s tone was purposefully brusque. Inwardly, he was relieved at his small measure of success and wondered how she would take his next move.

Amelia knew she would not get a wink of sleep. Not with him being so close, and the vision of his naked body so vivid in her mind. Careful to keep her back straight and her body away from his, Amelia reluctantly did as she was instructed and settled down on the wonderfully soft bedding.

She had really missed this bed, she mused, issuing a squeak of surprise when she was suddenly encased in warm blankets and strong arms.

“Erm…...” Her instinctive protest was weakened considerably by the sudden heat that swept over her cold flesh.

“Go to sleep, Amelia.”

She shivered as his soft voice floated across her ear, so tantalizingly close. Minutes ticked by as she lay frozen in his arms, until gradually the warmth and the comfort of his embrace began to work its magic, and she relaxed against him.

“Thank you,” she murmured eventually, with a yawn. She wanted to be angry with him, she really did. Not only had he embarrassed her with his blatant nakedness, but he had practically forced her to sleep with him.

Her conscience pricked her for being so harsh. He hadn’t actually forced her per se, as she wasn’t physically sleeping with him as in, well-. She quickly closed that thought off. All he had done was improve her comfort and warmth. He had done nothing more than she had been doing for him over the past few days. Should she really be angry at him for that?

“You’re welcome,” Sebastian replied, from somewhere behind her.

Within moments, she was fast asleep.

In the silence of the early dawn, Sebastian contemplated her current situation. Her hand lay limply upon the coarse blankets. It wasn’t the hand of a pampered lady. It was the work-roughened hand of a servant. He didn’t need to feel it to know it was liberally sprinkled with a myriad of calluses.

He glanced around the tiny space she called home with something akin to disdain. Given the sparse surroundings she called home, she was an impoverished servant. Sebastian wondered who the hell this Sir Hubert was, to feel he could justify paying her so little in wages that she could barely feed herself.

The tiny cottage she called home was barely habitable. It was no more than five or six paces across and barely had room for the table before the hearth, let alone the bed and rickety dresser on the opposite side of the small abode. The stone floor was rough and uneven. Unless he was much mistaken, the randomly placed pots on the floor captured the rain that made its way through the leaking roof.

As he lay contemplating the i

ntriguing bundle of femininity in his arms, he suddenly realised that he could only see one bowl and spoon sitting on the table. The rickety old dresser leaning against the wall beside the hearth held very little other than a potato, one carrot, a chunk of stale bread and a small piece of cheese. Meagre repast, even for someone of Amelia’s size. How had she fed both of them with so little food?

Frowning, he studied the clearly visible veins and bones on the back of her bony hand, and slowly traced them with his finger. With money being so sparse, he had little doubt she was going without in order to feed him. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her eat.

His heart twisted with bittersweet regret and growing guilt. His only redemption was the knowledge that he at least had the power to put matters right. His heart ached for her dire predicament, as he considered the abundance of food regularly put on the table at Tingdale House, his own home. Luxuries he had never considered important.

Copious amounts of meat, vegetables, cheese and bread just appeared when he commanded, how he commanded and were abruptly taken away again when he was finished. His mouth began to water with the memory of Cook’s famous apple pie, and his stomach rumbled in hungry protest at being deprived.

As sleep began to claim him, he considered the various goodies he would tempt Amelia with once she was safely ensconced at Tingdale. Without thought, his arm slid around her narrow waist, protectively snuggling her limp body back against his chest.

With a deep sigh of contentment, he spooned around her, groaning low in his throat when she wriggled back against his groin. He took a moment to tenderly place a lingering kiss on her temple before relaxing into sleep, content with the knowledge that she was, for now at least, somewhere warm and safe.

Amelia awoke some considerable time later, reluctant to break the contentment that suffused her. Blinking sleepily, she yawned widely and frowned when her eyes landed on the cold fireplace. By rights she should be getting up, lighting the fire and heading out to her day’s work at Sir Hubert’s. It felt decidedly decadent to lie there and do nothing, safely ensconced in Sebastian’s strong arms.

Until he arrived in her life, appearing out of nowhere like a gift from the gods, she had never realized just how lonely and dissatisfied she had become with her life, and how much she was missing out on.

She had been incredibly lucky to have met Sir Hubert and was extremely grateful to have been given the position as housekeeper, but she missed the companionship of someone to share her day with.

It suited her to be living well away from society, but if she was completely honest she wanted someone at home to talk to. When things were rough; or when she was feeling tired, it would be sheer heaven to be able to sit in front of the fireplace with someone, and share her day.

Sebastian was recovering steadily. It wouldn’t be too many more days before he was chafing to return home and bring his attackers to justice. A pang of loneliness stole through her at the thought.