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But the reminder of Amelia at home stopped me. I had decided to do my best to get her back, hadn’t I?
That didn’t include starting fights at the fencing hall.
In perhaps the most uncharacteristic move I could have made, I said good day and politely exited the hall. I saw the confusion flit across the men’s faces – they were clearly expecting a fight, or at least a snide comment. Somehow, this gave me even more satisfaction than any wit or sarcasm could have.
Indeed… it was a little thrilling to defy expectations.
I went directly back to my townhouse in Mayfair, expecting Amelia to finally be up and around. My heartbeat accelerated the closer I got, and different apologies – each lengthier and worse than the prior – ran through my head. But when I entered the house, I found it empty.
Some investigation revealed a note:
To Lord Marsden:
I have gone to stay at my uncle’s house on Gracechurch Street. Thank you for your kind hospitality.
Sincerely,
Amelia Allen
She had left.
I paced back and forth, unable to sit still.
Why was I surprised? I had driven her away.
But I still had yet to apologize. Ihadto apologize – I had to make things up to her.
I couldn’t let things remain as they were.
I burst forth from the townhouse, everything a blur, my mind set on making it to Gracechurch Street before sundown. But as I turned the corner, a flash of blue caught my eye. Lying on the cleanly swept sidewalk, only a few yards from my front door, was a bright blue ribbon. It was slightly torn, as if it had been ripped from something.
The moment I saw it, I knew that I recognized it. I remembered the dress Amelia had worn the day we’d played hide-and-seek… a white dress, with the most brilliant blue ribbon tied around the waist. I remembered the way that it brought out the grey in her eyes.
That was Amelia’s ribbon.
I felt a chill run down my spine. Something about it seemed… wrong. Why would she rip her ribbon like that? And then leave it on the ground?
It was uncharacteristic.
I examined the area, but there was nothing else obviously amiss. I swallowed, wiping the sweat from my brow. Surely, she was at her uncle’s house, and everything was fine.
Surely.
I got to Gracechurch Street as quickly as possible, my nerves getting the better of me. I kept reminding myself that I’d soon see Amelia’s tawny hair and grey eyes. She’d probably be quite annoyed at my presence.
But when I finally arrived, I found the door slightly ajar. Inside, I could hear the faint strain of worried voices. Ignoring all decorum, I pushed inside, finding myself staring at Amelia’s uncle Nicholas and cousins Louisa and Richard. They were huddled in the drawing room, scared expressions on their faces.
They nearly jumped at my entrance.
“Oh, sir!” Louisa cried, her eyes widening as I towered above them.
“My utmost apologies for such a brash entrance,” I stammered. “Is Amelia here?”
I was met by silence.
“We thought…” Louisa began, her gaze becoming panicked as she looked towards her Uncle Nicholas.
I noticed that he was holding a piece of parchment in his hands. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but then his son, Richard jumped towards me, snarling.
