Amelia hurried from the parlour ready to pay her fare to the driver. Behind her, the stranger called to the landlord for paper and a quill. Too late, she realised that she should have asked his name.
But it wasn’t the passenger coach that swept into the yard of the inn.
It was her parents’ ancient vehicle.
Her father leapt from its door before the coach stopped moving.
“No!” She gave a muffled scream and took two steps backwards before he caught her by the elbow. His fingers bit into her soft flesh. A tang of bitter disappointment soured her mouth. They were going to force her back to Wellworth Park. She cast a desperate look over her shoulder, hoping her hero would see her plight and come to her rescue again.
But he wasn’t there.
“Get into the carriage, Amelia. You have an appointment with Major Wellworth, which you will fulfil!” An angry slash of colour flushed her father’s cheeks. “Don’t fight me. We have an audience.” He nodded towards to the doorway of the inn which she had just left. The waiting passengers watched them with unmasked curiosity.
Always so obsessed with appearances!Blood pounded in her ears. What could she do now to avoid her parents’ plan?
He thrust her into the vehicle. “I should make you eat bread and dripping in punishment, but instead you’ll join us in the drawing room and meet Wellworth at dinner,” her father growled.
In the carriage, her mother added, “When we get back, I will accompany you to your chamber and oversee your dressing, and my own maid will style your hair so you appear at your best.” Her eyes were angry slits.
You’ll never make me marry him.Amelia perched on the edge of a seat next to the door, her bandbox still clutched in her hand. Her chest constricted. The journey back to Wellworth Park and virtual house arrest would be vastly quicker than her escape.
Into view came two things that gave her hope.
The Bath-bound coach pulled up in a welter of hooves, horn and shouts, blocking their vehicle in the inn’s entranceway. Her father yelled to his driver to go around, but there was no room to manoeuvre past. The stage must leave first.
Passengers streamed out from the inn and arranged themselves on top and within the coach. The horses were changed and with a last shout for all-comers, the driver took up his reins.
Then she saw him.
By the coach stood her rescuer. He held its door wide open and looked up at her, one eyebrow raised in silent encouragement.
Amelia didn’t need any more urging. Bandbox in hand, she crashed open the door beside her, and leapt to the ground. A dozen bounds and she was hauling herself through the doorway of the now-moving coach. She collapsed into the narrow space between the window and the bulk of the middle-aged woman from the coffee lounge. Her saviour followed her in, slamming the door behind him.
Amelia clutched her bandbox to her chest. Her heart pounded as excitement thrilled through her veins. She was doing it! She was leaving them behind!
But could she really escape her parents?
