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Chapter 7
Amelia lay on the unyielding earth, her chest heaving as she searched the darkness for Charles, but it was impossible to see anything with the branches blocking most of the moonlight. Her back ached from hitting the ground, but she did not feel any other pain—thank heavens she was thrown to the grassy patch on the side of the lane.
She’d felt one moment’s relief that both she and Charles had remained seated before they’d flown through the air. The man who’d yanked Howard’s reins from her hands had appeared from nowhere, sending her horse into a pivot and forcing her to fly from his back.
“Charles?” she whispered, pushing up on her elbows as the sound of a horse neighing reached her ears from somewhere in the distance. She swiped loose hair from her eyes, scanning the darkness. Great. Now Charles was not responding, her horse was gone, and they were alone on a deserted country lane. Or, she hoped they were alone.
Swallowing, she lifted up further, pushing against the ground and getting into a seated position. “Charles?”
He groaned just a few yards away, and she scurried to his side, crawling on her hands and knees, heedless of the pebbles and rough ground she traversed. Clutching his shoulder, she leaned down. “Are you hurt?”
He groaned, shifting onto his back. “I believe my pride hurts worse than my body.”
“Howard is gone, Charles. They’ve taken him.”
He pushed himself into a sitting position, and Amelia had to lean back to give him room to sit beside her. “Howard?” he asked.
“My horse. They’ve taken him. I heard the men laughing, but they are too far to hear now. We must go after them.” Emotion welled in her breast, but she shoved it down. The horse had once belonged to Arthur, her second husband, and had done more to soothe her melancholy after his passing than any other beast or human had the capacity to do. She needed to retrieve Howard. There was no other option available to her.
“There was more than one man, Amelia. By the time we locate whoever has done this, they could very well have made it back to their camp and we would be severely outnumbered. Maybe tomorrow, in the light of day, we can see what we can do, but it would not be safe to chase after them now.”
His voice was soft, but it hardened Amelia’s resolve all the more. Howard deserved better than that. He needed her now, not tomorrow.
Amelia got to her feet, wiping her hands on her skirt. She sucked in a quick breath, her left palm stinging.
Charles rose beside her, gently taking her wrist. He pulled her across the lane and lifted her hand toward the moon, angling it to see better. “You must have scraped it when you fell.”
“I think it happened when he yanked the reins from my hand.”
He glanced up, his fingers pressing gently against her skin. “Did you see the man’s face?”
“No; it all happened too fast.” Amelia pulled her wrist free, avoiding Charles’s eyes. Her skin tingled and she rubbed it where Charles had caressed her, hoping to remove the residual feelings left behind.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his hair. Stilling, he turned and looked over his shoulder. “Did you see where my hat went?”
Amelia scanned the ground, but it was impossible to see a black hat among the shadows. “I’ll watch for it.” She started down the lane in the direction the men had taken her horse.
“You cannot go after them,” Charles called, chasing after her.
“I refuse to allow Howard to suffer at the hands of those barbarians.”
“They will likely treat him well, Amelia, and no good can come from chasing horse thieves in the dead of night.”
Frustration built within her. “Likely treat him well is not enough for me.”
Charles took her unhurt hand, gently pulling her to a stop. He tugged her back to face him and dipped his head to better see her eyes. His voice was gentle. “It’s late. We are on foot and we have no light. None of this is conducive to a successful rescue mission. Return to my house, allow me to see you home, and I promise you I will do everything in my power to see this right tomorrow.”
Hesitation wound around her, but Charles’s earnest stare soothed the edges of her prickled pride. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice low. “First thing in the morning.”
Amelia nodded, grateful to have a plan in place. His idea did sound much safer. She could return home, sleep, and then help Charles retrieve Howard.
His elbow lifted, and he offered her a crooked smile. “Can I escort you to my estate?”
“Please.” She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they started down the lane as though they were going for a stroll and not smarting from a fall. Amelia’s heart slowed as they walked, the excitement from earlier seeping from her. The quiet between them was full of things unsaid, the night bursting with too many wild, astonishing moments for her to settle on just one. She’d like to question him on the reason he’d acted strangely at the church—she hadn’t considered Charles a drinking man before this evening, but evidently, that had changed.
Not that she could fault him for changing. Amelia would be the first to admit that people did not often remain the same. She was certainly not the same young, carefree girl she’d been before marrying her first husband, and she could not expect Charles to be the same person he’d been in their youth.
