Cinders and Ashes (Cavendish Mysteries 2)

With a shiver of dread, Amelia slowly eased out of the bed, careful not to wake him. Quietly she lit the fire and turned toward the dresser. With having Sebastian to feed, there was now barely enough to provide a meal. Not only did she have to go the village and purchase some food to get them through the next few days, she would have to throw herself on the mercy of Sir Hubert and apologise for her absence over the last few days, without revealing Sebastian’s presence in her cottage.

Eschewing breakfast, Amelia carefully laid out the last of the bread and cheese on her plate, wishing she had some ham or pie to add to the meagre repast. Reluctantly she added the two remaining apples with a sigh, hoping he would eat slowly.

Carefully tugging on her cloak and boots, she collected her small pouch of coins from under the bed and quietly left the cottage.

Until now he hadn’t contemplated just how much solitude Amelia actually lived in, and wondered how she bore it! He was going quietly mad.

Having woken several hours earlier, it soon became apparent that she would not be returning any time soon. She had selflessly left him the remaining food should he get hungry, but it had tasted like ashes in his mouth. The knowledge that Amelia needed it, but had starved herself to feed him, stripped him of his appetite.

Briefly he considered pulling his boots on and finding this Sir Hubert himself, to castigate the man on his poor treatment of his loyal housekeeper. Eyeing his boots, he reluctantly accepted the fact that, even if he did have the strength to wrestle them on, he wouldn’t be able to bend down enough to tug them up without causing his ribs more injury. He couldn’t afford any setback. Not now, when he was so close to recovering enough to make the arduous journey home. The quicker he got Amelia out of this hovel, and into the warmth and luxury of Tingdale House, the better.

Instead, he paced and fumed while waiting helplessly for Amelia to return.

By the time dusk had surrendered to the onslaught of nightfall, Sebastian was tearing his hair out. He was so angry with her, he could throw something.

Where the hell was she? Was she alright? Had Ballantyne gotten her? Had she fallen ill? Been robbed?

He tried to calm his frayed nerves, but as time passed he became increasingly frantic. He tried to reason out various scenarios to explain why she was so late. She was after all, a servant. If she had gone to Sir Hubert, she would be working late into the evening. She may not be back until midnight. The thought made him scowl fiercely.

He was, by nature, a man of action. Unlike most members of the aristocracy, he didn’t leave the running of his estates to his man of business. Through his hands-on approach, and sound judgement, all of his estates were prospering and, over the course of time, had made him a considerably wealthy man. He grimaced ruefully at that thought.

Despite all of his wealth, he was now living in abject poverty, eating apples, stale bread and cheese, while the woman who had saved his life toiled from dawn to dusk to make enough pennies to survive.

Life could truly be harsh to those not as lucky as he, Sebastian mused, his thoughts turning to Amelia once again.

He was still stewing over his own helplessness, and the unfairness of the circumstances in which Amelia lived, when the latch on the door finally rattled and Amelia entered.

A muscle ticked in his firm jaw as he watched her stagger through the door carrying two fully laden baskets.

His anger was briefly set aside while he quickly jumped up from the chair and relieved her of her burden. He didn’t know whether to rant at her for not waking him before she left, or fall to his knees and thank God that she was, at last, back safe and sound.

Carefully placing the heavy baskets on the worn table, he took a few moments to gather his wayward emotions.

Why had she gotten such a hold on his affection so quickly? He knew it wasn’t just gratitude for her sacrifices, and saving his life, that was the attraction. He watched as she disappeared back outside and returned moments later with another basket and a further parcel, before kicking the door closed with a thud.

“Where the hell have you been?” He tried not to shout, he really did. He almost succeeded. Almost. He wished he had kept the words back when he took a careful look at her appearance.

Despite being outside in the ferocious winds, her cheeks were still pale and untouched by the buffeting of the cold air. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes and a droop to her shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Clearly she was exhausted, and hadn’t slept as well in the bed as he’d hoped.

All of his anger, fear and concern evaporated in an instant and he dragged her unresisting form tight against his chest. Laying his head against the top of hers, he closed his eyes in relief, and savoured the reassuring feel of her delicate body in his arms as she relaxed against him.

Amelia found herself standing just inside the doorway, a basket in one hand and a parcel in the other, wrapped securely in Sebastian’s warm embrace. She couldn’t have moved if her life had depended upon it. Leaning wearily against him for several moments, she savoured the wonderful feeling of being cared for.

After several moments, Sebastian eased away from her and relieved her of her burden, before drawing her over to the fireplace and seating her as though she were a lady about to dine in splendour.

“I need to empty the baskets,” Amelia murmured, making no attempt to move. Her feet ached; her hands ached; and she had a raging headache, but wouldn’t have changed the welcome she had just received for all of the two pennies left in her pouch.

“You rest, I’ll do it,” Sebastian ordered softly, and began to unpack.

Under Amelia’s direction he carefully placed their mound of provisions in their rightful places, and put the wrapped bundle of clothing in her mending basket.

“So, today you have been from here to the village to purchase provisions, then on to Sir Hubert’s to work, before collecting more mending and finally returning home.” He didn’t need her acknowledgement, and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t correct his assumption.

Sebastian felt his temper rise again, but given how tired she looked couldn’t chastise her. She was only doing what she had to. He wisely remained quiet, and instead set about preparing her a plate of food. He was wealthy enough to ensure she would never have to spend her days trudging around the countryside, or working from dawn to dusk, ever again.

He eyed the small mound of food, and carefully assessed the number of days it would last. With any luck they would just have enough before they left for home.

Amelia didn’t bother nodding, and watched as he placed the now empty baskets by the door. Although he didn’t say anything else, she could tell from the rigid set of his shoulders and the dark scowl on his face that something had angered him considerably. A quick glance around the cottage showed nothing untoward, so what could possibly have happened?