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“Oh, you think I can’t drinkandplay hide and seek? Scratch that, not justplayhide and seek, but absolutely dominate hide and seek?”
Amelia sniffed, and then shrugged.
“I think, with your senses so inebriated, you are probably much worse than in our youth. Who knows what the years of drink have done to you?”
It was meant as a slight chiding comment, but I heard a sad note of truth in her question. I ignored it.
“Well, we’ll just have to find out, haven’t we?”
I jumped up from my seat, feeling a sudden, inexplicable burst of energy. The idea had come to me only moments before, perhaps inspired by the heavy swallow of scotch, and before I could think better of it, I was already up and ready.
We would play hide and seek, as if we were children again, racing through the empty halls of Rosehill, unaware of the world outside.
Why not?
Amelia stared up at me, still seated, her expression one of mild confusion.
“What?”
I grinned.
“Hide and seek, Amelia. It may not be Rosehill, but we have an entire London townhouse at our disposal. I promise, the servants won’t mind.”
She continued to stare at me, her mouth slightly agape.
“But… what will the servants say? I mean, we couldn’t possibly-”
“As you’ve already reminded me at least once this morning, I am a ruinous rake, and you are my tragic companion. Is now really the time to worry about that?”
Amelia still stared, but now I could see a slight twinkle in her eye. The corner of her mouth was just beginning to twitch upward, despite what looked like her best attempt to remain unaffected.
Before she had a chance to decide against it, I had dipped my fingers in my un-touched teacup. I threw little droplets of water at her face, a wicked grin on my own. She gave a high-pitched, feminine squeal, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Just as I desired, she leapt from her seat.
“Will Thorne, you wicked man!”
“If I could have a pound for every time someone had said that.”
I stepped quickly towards the door, still grinning at her irate expression.
“I’ll be waiting right here. I’ll give you, eh, five minutes to hide. That should be more than enough… since you’re clearly so superior at hide-and-seek in your sober state.”
She glared at me, her cheeks red.
“Will!”
“Go on then,” I chided, glancing down at my watch. “Only 4 minutes and 46 seconds left… oh, now it’s 44 seconds… 43…”
With an annoyed sigh, she ran out of the room. I felt a warm satisfaction as I watched her scurry off, mousy brown tendrils of hair falling on her shoulders.
And to my surprise, I couldn’t help but feel as if this was how things were meant to be: Amelia and I, together and laughing, like nothing had ever changed.
The minutes passed quickly, and before too long, I was prowling the halls of my townhome in search of my mousy house guest. I made a grand show of checking every room on the second floor, peering behind curtains and in closets. But just as I had expected, it was all too easy to find Amelia.
When I stepped into my dressing room – certainly a scandalous place for a woman to hide – I immediately knew something was afoot. Instead of its usual, stale smell, the air had a fresh smell to it, as if someone had recently rushed in and disturbed the silence. It only took a moment for me to observe that one of the thick velvet curtains, drawn close to block out the sun, was oddly misshapen.
Ah, she’d thought I wouldn’t check my dressing room, because it was too bold of a location. It was such a private, male space, after all. She’d thought that I would expect her to be too timid for such a hiding place.
