Cinders and Ashes (Cavendish Mysteries 2)

After several moments, she wrenched her lips out from under his and turned her head towards the squabs.

He leant on his elbows to study her through the gloom.

“I won’t be your whore,” Amelia grumbled defiantly, refusing to look at him.

Carefully easing off her, he sat up with a frown as she immediately moved away to the far corner of the carriage, putting as much distance between them as possible in the confined space.

“Is that what you think this is ultimately all about, Amelia? I want to take you home to service me?” Sebastian tried to keep his voice soft, but couldn’t keep the bite of temper from his voice.

“You need to understand one thing, darling.” His voice bit through the darkness of the carriage. “I do not want you as my mistress. I do not expect you to be my whore. Making love with you is – well - great.” Sebastian’s tone was matter of fact, while he discussed one of the most important issues of his life.

“I know there is much we have to learn about each other before we decide on a future together. But set that aside for now. You saved my life, and I owe it to you to keep you safe in return. I cannot, and will not, leave you to be at risk of the brutality of Ballantyne. A risk I brought to your door, by the way.” Sebastian’s voice was harsh in the silence of the rocking carriage.

Great? Great! Amelia was shocked and more than a little hurt as she latched on to his description of one of the most stunning nights of her life. The feelings he created in her when they made love were amazing. Wonderfully mind-numbing. But to him, they were great? Had he not enjoyed it as much as she? He had certainly seemed to. But what they had shared didn’t rate any higher than simply ‘great’?

She hadn’t expected any declarations of undying love and devotion. Even though she knew her heart belonged to him, she was wise enough to know that men like Sebastian didn’t fall in love with mousy women like her. Even if he did ignore her lowly status. But to have the physical love between them reduced in such a casual manner hurt considerably.

Amelia felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Maybe he didn’t want her as his whore, or mistress, if she wasn’t that good. His words highlighted the differences between them.

He felt a need to protect her because he felt he owed her for saving his life. She loved him desperately.

To him, Amelia was the only female around and he had made use of her.

To Amelia, she had taken the man she loved into her body, and embraced their closeness with joy.

She realised just how uncertain her future had become. Not only was she being dragged back into the Ton; the very last place she wanted to be. But she had to rely upon the man opposite to house her until she could secure future employment.

“You owe me nothing,” Amelia muttered quietly, feeling emotionally battered and bruised from the events of the evening. “I did nothing I wouldn’t have done for someone else.”

She turned her watery gaze towards him, staring across the dimness of the carriage as she fought the overwhelming urge to sob uncontrollably. The rose-tinted glasses she had been wearing had just been cruelly ripped off, and she had been made to face the stark reality of what her life had become. She needed a few moments to herself to regain her composure and decide what she was going to do.

During their conversation, one thing had become apparent. Her future could never be with Sebastian.

“Amelia.” Sebastian went to move towards her, only to freeze when she shook her head and curled up into a tight ball against the squabs.

“Talk to me?” he pleaded softly. He hated to see her so upset, and it disturbed him greatly to see her physically withdraw from him. It would have been better if she screamed and shouted at him again, Sebastian thought. Her anger he could deal with. This wounded silence left him feeling helpless, and he hated it.

“I’m tired, Sebastian,” Amelia choked out, drawing her thin cloak around her tightly and burying her face in her knees.

Stilted silence settled between them as the carriage tumbled through the night.

Sunlight was breaking through the clouds when the carriage jerked to a stop in front of Tingdale House. The sudden jolting movement snapped Sebastian out of his doze. With a yawn, he eyed the vast stone edifice of the house he called home with an enormous sense of relief.

“Thank God,” he murmured, briefly glanced at Amelia who was still curled against the opposite door.

At least she hadn’t jumped out while he had been asleep, Sebastian thought ruefully, opening the door and jumping down. He almost cried with the sheer relief of being home again. Even the air tasted better here, he mused, as he took a deep breath of the crisp October morning. He was just turning to drop the step to call softly for Amelia, when the banging of the front door made him turn.

Moments later, chaos ensued. Men piled out of the front door and ran down the steps towards him.

“Good God, man, where the hell have you been?” Dominic demanded. He tore down the stairs with his hair wildly tousled, and breeches half-fastened. Sebastian barely had time to say ‘hello’, when he was swept into a bear hug by his elder brother.

“We thought you were dead!”

Moments later, Edward joined them. After much back-thumping, Sebastian was finally released, feeling somewhat stunned by the sheer jubilation on his brothers’ faces.

“I damned well nearly was,” Sebastian muttered with an abrupt shake of his head. “Let’s go inside and I’ll explain.”

He eyed Dominic’s broad, naked chest ruefully. “You must be getting cold.”