She was more courageous than any of her people would ever know.
And she was leaving. Only… he wasn’t ready for her to leave. Something broke loose and he took one step toward her.
“Amelia!” he nearly shouted. This wasn’t the way he would have planned this conversation, but he had indeed run out of time. He needed to talk to her.
He needed to know…
Lengthening his strides, he cut the distance between them in half. She seemed to be having a few words with her cousin and then nodded before turning to acknowledge him. When she crossed to where he waited, Leopold’s heart lifted.
He’d calledout her name. NotLady Amelia, just… Amelia.
Waiting, she memorized his features. His inky hair, that was a little too long, his mouth, that she knew intimately, and those eyes…
“Thank you.” Amelia kept her voice low, not allowing herself to get too close to him. She kept her head up and her eyes cool, knowing her mother was watching. She’d excused herself, explaining that she needed to thank Mr. Beckworth. Her mother had reluctantly allowed it.
“You don’t have to thank me.” His ebony eyes searched hers, and for one hopeful second, Amelia thought he might reach for her hand. He stiffened, however, and then cleared his throat. “You must be pleased to be reunited with your family.”
Was that a question?
Amelia shook her head a little. She’d found Clementine again, and they’d at last managed to clear the air between them. For that, she’d be forever grateful. “Yes,” she said.
He flicked his gaze down and then back up her body. “And your wardrobe.”
Was he mocking her? He hadn’t sounded like this since that first day…
The day he’d whisked her away from her father.
“You must be happy as well,” she said. “To have successfully completed your mission.”
Was that all she had been to him? A mission? A task?
“Right,” he said.
To keep from throwing herself into his arms, to keep herself from begging him to ask her to stay, she clasped her hands at her waist.
You must come to me. It had been rule number one.His rule.
But she had one foot in his world and one foot in hers, muddying the rules on both sides.
She could hear footsteps and knew it would be one of the outriders, sent over by her mother.
Amelia was running out of time.
The thread between them was unwinding, and she didn’t know how to stop it. All she could do was plead with her eyes. Mr. Beckworth was a combination of scars and hard edges, all pieced together to make him into this beautiful, perfect man.
Perfect for her.
Their time together hadn’t been by choice, but he’d treated her with more respect than anyone else ever had.
He hadn’t been born into the aristocracy, but his treatment of others showed more dignity, more strength of character than all the titled men of England put together.
They called him the King…
He wasn’t a member of theton, but he was the truest of gentlemen.
With her heart ready to burst, she very deliberately dipped into her best curtsey. “I’ll never forget you.” The words left her lips just as the outrider arrived.
“Your mother grows impatient, my lady.”
