Desire Me Always (7 page)

Amelia blushed. Surely Lady Burley referred to Nick monopolizing the better portion of Amelia's time since yesterday in the only sense that newlyweds tended to acquaint themselves.

Lady Burley bumped into Amelia's shoulder. “I see you are still a blushing bride. I promise not to tell a soul how easy it is to make you flush.”

“I had no idea such a thing would be so obvious.”

“Of course it is. You would be ripe for nettling, should anyone find out, so your secret is safe with me.” Meredith nudged her shoulder again and pulled away.

They stopped in the middle of a meadow with trees surrounding them on three sides. The manservant dismounted as Meredith walked over to her saddlebags and started pulling out the items for their afternoon picnic. Amelia fetched the blanket that was rolled up on the rump of her horse and found a spot to set it in the clearing.

The manservant assisted in fetching things from the saddlebags and putting them out on the blanket. He did not engage in any conversation with them and hardly looked their way. That action in and of itself was not strange for a servant; it was the uncanny way in which he kept glancing at their surroundings, as though waiting for something bad to happen. It was disconcerting being around him. And while Amelia always felt safe around Nick and Huxley, she didn't think this man would be looking out for her best interest.

Amelia rubbed her arms, feeling suddenly chilled. It had been less than a week since Shauley had kidnapped her, and she had to wonder where he'd gone to hide since then. Was he close? Had he left England? She wished she could forget about that man. Forget what he'd done to her. Only time would heal the fears that gripped her whenever she thought about Shauley.

Roberts stood next to the horses, feeding them pieces of apple he'd cut between bites for himself. There was something about the way he held himself; it was like a warning to others that at the drop of a hat, he would be ready for any sort of battle. He was almost like he had the same fighting instinct that Nick had.

“Does your husband's manservant always watch you from a distance?” Amelia asked.

Amelia tore her gaze away from the servant and sat on the blanket as Meredith opened up one of the two baskets that held their afternoon meal.

“Always. Landon is dreadfully distrustful to the world around us, and I suspect that Nick wouldn't have allowed you to come, had Roberts not been present.”

“Because of the kidnapping.”

“Among other things.”

Lady Burley captured Amelia's undivided attention with that comment. “What other
things
?”

“Business matters.” Lady Burley didn't enlighten her further. “I always knew the risk I was taking in marrying Landon. While he is a gentleman of the highest degree, he also accomplishes things that others of his rank find vulgar.”

“When my father died, the taxes on the transfer of his properties were the last straw that broke my brother, Jeremy. Had my brother had money, I doubt he would have put it to good use, but his impoverished state is much like that of so many other lords, made worse by those who prefer to play life on a game of chance.”

“I had no idea.” Meredith seemed surprised by this revelation and gave Amelia a long look, as though she were measuring Amelia in a whole new light.

Amelia felt foolish for revealing so much . . . she had assumed Nick would have mentioned what had happened with her brother. And then she recalled all the other lost souls who lived under Nick's protection. Their secrets were their own; Nick had made that clear, as had the servants. It seemed hers were also of a private matter and no one's business, unless she chose to reveal the facts.

“Your husband has made a success of his lands,” Amelia changed the topic, hoping Lady Burley would ask no questions about Amelia's past. “Is that not something others should want to emulate? It's admirable what he's accomplished.”

“It truly is,” Meredith said with a sigh. The love for her husband could not be feigned, and Amelia hoped that what she and Nick had was just as strong as what she saw in Lord and Lady Burley.

“But back to the topic at hand,” Meredith turned her gaze toward the manservant again. “My husband has made plenty of enemies over the years. Not one of the aristocrats would care to emulate my husband; they want to crush him for not following the same path everyone else was forced to take by circumstance. Roberts is my husband's most trusted man and has stood by him through every threat that tried to tear apart what we have.”

Amelia watched her new friend in silence; her sandwich lay untouched on her napkin. She and Meredith were more alike than she could have ever imagined or even thought possible.

“The same problem exists for Nick,” Amelia admitted. Though people wanted to crush him for climbing out of poverty and making a success of himself, not for proving himself above the lords and ladies that ruled the upper echelon of society. “Yet my husband has no title. Only a name he has built with his own two hands.” Literally. He had made the start of his fortune by fighting.

“Exactly my point. There are many people who would prefer both our husbands lived impoverished lives. That neither reached above or below their perceived worth.”

“But this is the state of our lives, whether others agree it should be this way or not.”

“Do you think your kidnapping happened by chance?” Lady Burley asked.

Amelia sputtered out a few nonanswers before giving up altogether. How was she supposed to respond without revealing more than she wanted?

“I believe Lord Murray sold these lands knowing your husband would eventually divvy up the properties. It's obvious Murray's man of affairs didn't think Nick deserving of the property.”

While Lady Burley was referring to Shauley, Amelia doubted the woman knew the precise relationship between Shauley and Nick. Amelia felt as though Lady Burley was fishing for answers and for information Amelia wasn't willing to share of her husband's private affairs.

“I think there might be more to the story . . . ” was all Amelia said.

“Oh, I know there is. And while I know you and I will make great friends, I need to know if you are the cause of all the problems Nick has had.” Meredith bit into her sandwich.

Amelia's brows furrowed. “Why should you think that?”

“I know exactly from where you hail, Amelia. I could probably recite Debrett's backward.”

As could Amelia. She was sure any lady born into a decent house had that ability, but it would be petty to argue that point.

“You already said Murray's man of affairs was unhappy with the transaction. It was his secretary who sought out an odd form of revenge against my husband.”

“Then why would Murray's secretary kidnap you?”

“I think the answer is obvious.” Amelia's frustration grew by the minute. “I will not feign innocence in my relationship with Nick prior to our marriage. Apparently, Mr. Shauley saw an opportunity to seek revenge against Nick and took it.”

Amelia looked skyward; white cotton swabs of clouds moved with the breeze overhead. A loose curl at the side of her head tickled her cheek until she pushed it behind her ear and tucked it beneath her hat.

“I see now that your gesture of friendship is disingenuous.” Amelia wanted to laugh. “Well played, Lady Burley. You had me yesterday, when you helped me prepare for my wedding.”

“I do believe we can and will be friends. My concern is for my husband in the latest transaction, considering Mr. Shauley has disappeared.”

Amelia gave Meredith a disbelieving look.

Meredith sighed and looked away. “I have lost people close to me. I am not willing to lose my husband.”

“So you invited me here to better assure yourself that I wasn't a threat to your husband.”

Lady Burley paused. “I suppose that's how it seems. But that was not my intention. I want to know more about this Mr. Shauley so I can ensure he is not a threat to us.”

“How it seems?” Frustrated, Amelia set her sandwich down, her appetite diminished, her desire for company squashed. “I understand your reasoning. But that does not negate the fact that we are here under false pretenses. If you are so worried about Mr. Shauley, perhaps you should ask your husband where to focus your concerns.”

Meredith twisted her hands in her lap. “He won't tell me anything.”

“Perhaps that's for the better. I need a moment to think . . . alone.”

Amelia stood, straightened her skirts, and walked toward the wood. Her intention was only to let the anger in her simmer and cool, nothing more. But she did not want to do that in Meredith's company.

“Wait,” Lady Burley called after her before cursing something foul under her breath.

Damn the tears that fell as Amelia hit the tree line. At least no one was here to witness her humiliation and fault her for her naiveté. She of all people should know better than to trust another so easily.

When Meredith didn't seem inclined to follow her, and the manservant did no more than edge the horses closer to the woman for whom he was responsible, Amelia walked deeper into the wood for privacy. Really, it was so she could cry and pity herself alone. She would pull herself together in due time.

Amelia didn't know how long she walked—maybe for ten minutes but always within sight of the clearing beyond the wood. Checking her distance from the picnic area, she stumbled over an overturned, rotted-out tree stump. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation that had led to this very moment; instead, more tears snaked down the damp path on her cheeks. She was utterly ridiculous right now and had no one to blame but herself.

“Let me help you, miss,” a craggy old voice said quite near to where she'd fallen. She almost screamed until she looked up into the face of a man who couldn't be a day younger than seventy.

“It's no bother, sir. I . . . I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. The fault is completely my own.” Amelia pushed herself to her feet and dusted off her skirts. While doing so, she got a better look at the old man. He appeared to be a monk, wearing a long brown robe, tied with a rope around his waist. A harmless figure, though she still remained wary.

Was this the man Nick had seen yesterday? She'd pictured someone much younger. More threatening and scary. She didn't feel an ounce of malice coming from the old man or the itching unease that had always enshrouded her when in Shauley's company.

“Are you from a local church?” she asked.

“Ah.” He looked down at his clothing. “The church around these parts split into two sects of worshippers years ago. Half the men in cloth were asked to leave so long ago I barely remember some of their faces. I suppose that's the long way of my saying I do not belong to the local church. I am merely a man of God, living off the land as He sees fit.”

Amelia looked back toward the company she had left. She couldn't see Meredith or Roberts now. Should she take a chance?

“Might I walk with you for a bit?” she asked. “I could use the company.”

“A man my age has to keep up his constitution. A walk around the wood I can handle; it's enough for me to forage for some berries and vegetables the forest provides. I cannot walk much farther than I've already come.” He laughed, the sound shortened by the fluid-filled cough of a man who had trouble breathing. Amelia pulled out her handkerchief and handed it to the old monk. “No, miss, I wouldn't want to ruin your fine cloth. But I could use your assistance to pick some more berries.”

“Do you live far, sir?”

“It's just around the bend in that path.” He turned and used his knotted wooden cane to point in the direction of his home.

“I would be delighted to help if you'll tell me which berries you want picked.”

That earned her a smile, and for the next fifteen minutes, she helped fill his basket with enough berries to feed a whole household.

The crack of a branch behind them had Amelia spinning and nearly toppling over again on the uneven forest floor. It was Roberts. The panicked look on Lady Burley's face was one of worry as she rode close behind him. Had they been looking for her? She'd meant to stay within eyesight, considering everything that had happened; she must have lost track of them when conversing with the monk. Amelia acknowledged them with a dip of her head, feeling slightly guilty.

“We need to head back, Mrs. Riley. Looks as though a storm is washing through,” Roberts said.

“Riley, you say,” the old man said, staring at her with narrowed eyes and renewed interest. Did the name seem familiar to him?

Amelia smiled. “Newly married. My husband purchased Caldon Manor. We are here to assess the condition of the house, for we plan to restore it.”

The monk grunted but didn't say anything. It became apparent that the old man did know her husband.

Amelia turned toward Roberts. “I would like to see this man home before we are on our way back to the village.”

“It's no bother, Mrs. Riley,” the monk said. “I can see to it myself. If you want to keep an old man company, I'm out here most days this time.”

“I'm afraid I must insist.” She wasn't sure why she needed to see where he lived, but it was important, even if only to advise her husband. “What kind of woman would I be if I left you now?”

Amelia took the basket from the monk. He didn't argue or make excuses. He walked next to her and led them toward his cabin. Roberts followed behind in his usual quiet manner and didn't ask her to leave again.

“Can I offer you and your companions some tea?” the monk asked.

“Oh, I wouldn't trouble you when you've already been wonderful company this afternoon. But I will look for you on the morrow, if that is all right with you.”

“It is indeed, child. At my age I don't get around as often as I'd like to, and company is scarce in this part of the wood. Your smile and kindness have made the day brighter.”