Had she always been so utterly helpless?
Frustration plagued her, along with something else—some violent emotion that threatened to rend her carefully maintained composure to pieces.
And yet, when the door opened, she stifled a shiver and… smiled.
Because, first and foremost, she was a lady. It was something she’d been told for as long as she could remember. And although these circumstances were wholly unfamiliar, she would do as she was taught. Show grace,regardless of how you feel inside.
The highwayman, obviously lacking a gentleman’s education, claimed the empty space beside her, facing forward with a scowl. When he pounded on the roof, the carriage shuddered and began moving. Outside, the distant rumbling of thunder accompanied the sound of gravel crunching beneath the wheels.
Amelia, who had never ridden alone with a man before, dropped her gaze to her hands again. The highwayman had removed the red mask, but although she was curious, she didn’t allow herself to sneak a glance.
His closeness pricked at her skin, sending a tingling awareness along her side.
Sliding closer to her edge of the bench, Amelia wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking into the corner as much as she could.
And since she didn’t know what to say to this beastly but handsome stranger who’d abducted her, she refrained from saying anything at all.
The highwayman cleared his throat. “You needn’t worry about your safety. I meant what I said.”
Feeling unusually vulnerable, Amelia nodded, wishing she could lift her feet onto the bench and hug her knees. But that wasn’t something a lady would do—even if her corset would allow it.
Having only ever learned to protect herself with propriety, she lifted her chin.
“Thank you.” She slid her gaze away from the window, and seeing his harsh profile, warmth pooled in her belly again. “Might I know your name?”
He took a moment to answer. “Leopold Beckworth.”
“Mr. Beckworth.”
“Leopold is fine,” he corrected her.
Her world shifted, or was it just the carriage? She didn’t even address her older brother by his given name. Well, she had when they were children, but that had been a long time ago.
“Leopold.” She tested his name on her lips, the intimacy causing her to feel more than a little deviant. She couldn’t do it. She would address him only asMisterBeckworth.
“And you are Amelia.” He shifted so he was partially facing her. “Are you cold?”
“LadyAmelia.” It was her turn to correct him. Then she registered his question. Impossibly, she seemed to feel both hot and cold at the same time. “And yes, I suppose I am.” She sighed. Her voice came out as little more than a whisper, her mouth inexplicably dry. “I should have brought my coat.”
And her handkerchief, and her crochet hooks, and her yarn, not to mention Miss Henrietta and the several trunks that contained her new wardrobe for the Season.
Mr. Beckworth shifted, removing his jacket. Beneath the black wool, his shirt was a pristine white, and he wore a fashionable waistcoat—with only half the buttons fastened.
The “V” opened at the top of his shirt, revealing taut skin that had been kissed by the sunlight. It drew her gaze like a magnet.
“Are you a gentleman?” she asked.
“Not the kind you’re used to, I’d fathom. Lean forward.” He was holding out his jacket, and she couldn’t decline it without appearing rude.
“Thank you.” A foreign but exciting scent engulfed her, and heat—leftover from his body—seemed to soften the muscles in her shoulders and back. If she could melt into the cushions on the back of the seat, she would. Instead, she only closed her eyes for a moment.
“One might argue that you’re safer with me than any of your so-called gentlemen of theton.”
Amelia had no reason to believe him. She’d lived her entire life surrounded by nobility, and although she hadn’t found a single one she’d like to marry, she’d never had reason to fear any of them.
Had she?
Lord Northwoods had been polite enough, and yet, even when she’d allowed that kiss, she hadn’t felt completely at ease with him. In fact, she’d never felt at ease with any of her suitors. Amelia, like all debutantes, had been warned that even a true gentleman’s character could become dangerous if tempted.
