Amelia wasn’t like that.
He was never one to embrace the idea of hope, let alone… love. Even just thinking the word made something shift in Leopold’s chest. His lungs tightened, and he felt a squeezing in his heart.
Hadn’t he, just earlier that day, allowed himself to imagine a future with her?
“I fucking love her, Fitz,” Leopold confessed. He loved her bravery, her creativity, and her refreshing honesty. He loved the woman inside the lady. And he wanted to know everything about her. But there hadn’t been enough time.
“Did you tell her?”
“Of course not.”He’d just realized it himself. Furthermore, “I don’t want to ruin her life. I can’t do that to her. She’ll regret it. She’ll regret me.”
“And how do you know that? You know what she wants?”
“God, I hate it when you play devil’s advocate.” But there was more shifting. In taking Amelia forcibly from her father, Leopold had been careful to allow her as much freedom as he could. With what she ate. With what she wore… And he’d wanted her to be able to explore.
He wanted to show her the world and let her decide the places she liked.
But… then he’d handed her over to Winterhope, and all her choices had been taken away.
Fitz rose from his seat. “If you didn’t need me for anything, I’ve some letters to write.” But then he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew something…
“Fanny gave this to me.” He tossed the plump creature made of yarn onto Leopold’s desk. She’d used three different colors of green and sewn buttons on for eyes. “Lady Amelia left it for you.”
Mr. Toad.
“It’s the only way I can show them that I care.”
Whereas he might once have believed the toy was a mocking sort of pity, he knew better now.
If that wasn’t a sign, Leopold didn’t know what was.
“Have mounts readied for us, Fitz. You and I are going for a ride.”
“Where to, Boss?” But Leopold’s old friend had a twinkle in his eye.
“I think you know, Fitzy. I think you know.”
“The Goat’s Tail, I presume?”
For the first time in hours, Leopold felt himself again. Even if, ultimately, he wasn’t in control of the outcome. And this time, rather than presume to know the lady’s mind, he’d do what he should have done all along.
Present her with a choice.
DROWNING
Much later that night, in the darkness, with the sound of Miss Henrietta’s gentle snores emanating from the trundle beside her, Amelia lay on her back, her eyes wide open as she stared into the darkness.
The material of her nightrail was loose and light, her stays locked away in the trunk, but even though nothing was physically restricting her, the breaths she took felt shallow. Her maid had drawn the heavy drapes closed, so Amelia couldn’t see the ceiling. She couldn’t see the moon. Each rumble coming from Miss Henrietta reminded her that she was being watched. Monitored and managed, always and forever. Here, with the people she was supposed to be with, she felt more a prisoner than ever.
She couldn’t even cry. Hopelessness, that was what this was. What would it be like to succumb to this feeling?
She imagined herself in the ocean, beneath the distant surface, allowing icy cold water to fold around her. She wouldn’t fight it, she’d surrender. It would tug her to and fro with the push and pull of the waves overhead, and eventually it would drag her down to the ocean floor. The water would fill her mouth, her nostrils, her lungs, so frigid it burned…
But the weights became heavier and heavier. Any second now, and it would be over.
Choking on a gasp, she shot up in bed, all but clawing at the darkness.
Air. She needed air!
