Cinders and Ashes (Cavendish Mysteries 2)

Amelia’s stomach dropped to her knees, and she immediately thought of the conversation she had earlier that day with her father. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to say yes, but wasn’t ready for the confrontation if she said no.

“Does it have to be now, Sebastian? I’m tired.” She yawned, moving towards the door.

“I need to know if you have decided what you are going to do,” Sebastian replied, carefully putting the screen in front of the fire and following Amelia to the door.

Amelia took a deep breath and turned to face him, digging deep for the strength to get through the next few minutes.

“I think that I need to return to Eastleigh with my father. He is right in that I have ghosts I need to lay to rest before I can decide on what I want for the future.” Weariness clouded her voice at the dreadful thought of leaving swept through her.

“Is that what you want?” Sebastian felt the void open up between them. He was frustrated that he didn’t know how to stop it, or bridge the growing divide. Right now he would offer her anything to keep her with him.

“Right now, we have to deal with Ballantyne. But I have to return to Eastleigh, if only to meet my future step-mother,” Amelia replied softly.

“Your father has already told me of your wealth, Amelia. I know that financially you are beholden to nobody now, but I had hoped that you could consider becoming my wife.”

He sensed her hesitation, but couldn’t identify the cause of it. “You are Lady Eastleigh, and are Ton, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. As such, you have been thoroughly compromised by being alone with me both in Glendowie and here. You cannot bring such scandal upon your father and his new bride, by refusing to marry me.”

Amelia frowned. “I won’t marry because I have to, Sebastian, whatever gossip is being spread about me. If there is any scandal, I will make sure it isn’t visited upon you or your family.” She sounded stiff and formal. “My father has made it clear that he will support any decision I make.”

“Amelia-.” Sebastian briefly considered seducing her into accepting his proposal. He wanted her to marry him because she wanted to, damn it, not because he had pushed her into it, but it didn’t seem like there was any other choice.

Amelia moved away quickly, when Sebastian tried to place his hands on her shoulders.

“Good night, Sebastian.” Without looking back she quickly left the room.

He didn’t visit her that night. Instead he remained in his own room, waiting for sleep that just wouldn’t come. It astonished him just how quickly she had become a necessity in his bed. Not just for the sexual pleasure, but for the simple physical presence of her lying next to him.

If only he could fathom why she was so reluctant to agree to marry him. He wasn’t after her money. One only had to look at the size of Tingdale house to know he was a considerably wealthy man. She was attracted to him. Enough to tie him down to the bed, and use him for sensual experimentation. Her enthusiasm and willingness in bed humbled him, and he knew she enjoyed every second. She was a lady. He was a lord. What could be holding her back? Did she not love him?

Sebastian knew that even if she didn’t love him to begin with, after a few months of marriage, she could grow to hold deep affection for him. He wasn’t a cruel man. The decisions he had made for her, had been taken with her best interests at heart. So what could be wrong? He simply refused to countenance the possibility that she didn’t hold any affection for him at all.

With a

sigh, he tossed and turned as the quandary burned through him.

He was still staring at the canopy above his bed, when dawn began to break over the horizon.

The tension within the house was palpable throughout the day.

Sebastian climbed out of bed, tired and grumpy, having had no sleep at all. The dark scowl on his face was fierce, and so unlike him that everyone stepped back as he neared.

Desperately trying to ignore his dark scowls, Amelia sat with Peter and Edward later that morning, idly sifting through papers again.

Edward suddenly tipped a piece of paper upwards to read it closely. “I think we have something.” He coughed and read out a missive from Hawksworth to his cousin Edwina, Bertram’s wife.

“They were cousins?” Amelia’s brows rose in astonishment. “Did you know?”

Sebastian shook his head, peering over his brother’s shoulder to read the letter.

“I had no idea.” He read the note aloud to the assembled occupants. Despite his bitter pain at her refusal to marry him, he simply couldn’t remain mad at her and had lapsed into a quiet contemplation.

Hawksworth had written to Edwina, pleading for her assistance in proving his innocence. He had been set up by Ballantyne, although didn’t say which of the two brothers were involved in the murder of the maid. He couldn’t approach his mother and sister, because he didn’t want to bring any more shame upon them, but he desperately needed help as he was about to be hung and nobody would believe his real name, or innocence. They thought he was called Jack Cunnington, and he was about to be hung for a murder he didn’t commit.”

“She didn’t help?” Amelia gasped, horrified at the thought of anyone ignoring such a plea.

“She may have tried, but she clearly didn’t succeed. The gaoler did say he could remember someone visiting the day before the hanging, but couldn’t remember the name. Bertram never mentioned it, so I am not sure what happened.”

“The letter is enough to prove Hawksworth’s innocence, and Ballantyne’s guilt. If only we knew which one of the Ballantyne brothers was the murderer.” Peter tossed the last sheaf of paper down in disgust.