He might say no.
But she couldn’t live her life like a handkerchief in the wind. So she fluffed up the pillow, curled onto her side, and made herself as comfortable as possible.
“You’re sure about this?” The canvas covering hovered in Lord Winterhope’s hand.
“Absolutely.” Her voice was firm. Yes, she was nervous, but she was also completely certain of her decision.
“Be careful, Amelia.” Clementine peered inside. “And good luck! I’ll write to you as soon as I can!”
“Beckworth had better do the proper thing,” Winterhope added. He then gave her one last grimace and pulled the tarp closed. After he was finished adjusting it, he grunted. “If he doesn’t,I’llhavehishide…”
It was oddly reassuring to hear, though Amelia was sure it wouldn’t be necessary. Lord Winterhope sounded like he meant his words. She couldn’t help but think back to the day Mr.Beckworth had snatched her from her family’s carriage, how her father had dithered and made half-hearted threats and then ultimately folded under pressure, with very little protest.
Lord Winterhope had never been in love with her, she knew that much, but he felt strongly enough about this to be willing to go toe to toe with Mr. Beckworth, an objectively dangerous man, on her behalf. All because she was his wife’s cousin. He must love Clementine dearly to extend his protection like this.
But truthfully, as far as Amelia was concerned, his protection would not be needed in this instance. Because she didn’t want Mr. Beckworth to do the proper thing at all. In fact, she hoped for just the opposite.
WINTERHOPE’S DIABOLICAL SCHEME
Having gotten such a late start, the sun was just cresting the horizon when Leopold and Fitz rode into the stable yard at The Goat’s Tail.
He was tired but determined, even if he was also nervous as hell.
But he didn’t regret coming. Even if she laughed in his face, he wouldn’t.
Not that that was something he thought she would do. Not the Amelia he knew.
Walking into the pub area, he was met with a few curious glances—some more so than others. He wasn’t the kind of boss to spring surprise inspections on his employees, but he wouldn’t apologize for it either.
He stopped at the bar, drumming his fingers on the aged wood. When Mrs. Billings appeared from the kitchen, he nodded and got straight to the point. “Morning. What room is Lady Amelia in?”
Mrs. Billings replied in kind. “Seven, Mr. Beckworth.”
Leopold spun on his heel and headed straight for the stairs. As he made his way up to her room, he mulled over what hemight say. While they’d covered the distance by moonlight, Fitz had offered several tidbits of unasked for advice.
“Be romantic,”he’d said.
“I’ve heard it helps to get down on one knee.”
“Or,”Fitz had added, “You could simply carry her off again. That seemed to work well enough the first time.”
And that was tempting. Very tempting. However, he’d not come to steal her away in the night like some sort of monster. No, he’d come to give her a choice.
In giving her a choice, he couldn’t be certain of the outcome.
He patted the little bulge in his coat pocket where he’d stuffed Mr. Toad.
For good luck.
It certainly couldn’t hurt.
As he arrived at the landing, a not-too-distant argument dominated by an almost grating noblewoman’s voice broke the quiet of the morning. As he approached the source of all the ruckus, which happened to be very close to what he’d been told was Amelia’s room, he braced himself. Getting Amelia to himself might not be as simple as he’d hoped.
But he would manage.
This time, he’d do whatever was necessary to speak with her privately.
Before Leopold reached the end of the hall, however, Winterhope emerged from one of the chambers, effectively blocking Leopold from Amelia’s room.
