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He abruptly picked her up and tossed her—tossedher—over his shoulder. And then he ran.
Amelia shrieked and grabbed onto the back of his coat with both fists. “This is hardly necessary!” she shouted into the void as he ran across the grass toward a door. It was a side door, not a true entrance. He put her down with anoomphas roughly as he’d picked her up. He slammed against the door twice with his shoulder to force it open—it popped free of its swollen frame and he pushed her inside to a narrow hall. He was right behind her and used his shoulder again to force the door shut.
“Need to have that repaired,” he said, more to himself than to her.
Amelia realized she had dropped her boot somewhere between the stable and the door, and was looking around her, trying to see in the dim light of the hall, when she heard a racket that sounded as if the house was coming down around her. She turned just in time to see two dogs racing toward her. She shrieked and hardly managed to get her arms up before they both leaped at her. She was certain she was going to be mauled...but the only thing she felt was the rough lap of their tongues as they licked the rain from her face, their bodies wiggling with excitement.
“Bethan! Merlin!Off!” Marley roared.
The dogs instantly backed away from her and sat, their tails wagging furiously, their expressions eager, as if they were expecting to be praised for their excellent greeting.
Marely stepped around her, putting himself between her and the dogs. He pointed down the hall. “Go,” he commanded them, and the dogs obediently trotted away.
He shook his head and looked at her. “Are you all right?”
“Je.Wetter than I was, but I’m fine,” she said, and with the back of her hand wiped dog drool from her cheek.
“I beg your pardon for it. Those two were models of discipline until Miles ruined them.”
“Who?”
“Lord Clarendon,” he clarified. “He’s been my guest, lo these many weeks or months or years. Let’s just agree it’s been an eternity. All right, come on,” he said, and they were moving again, down the dark hall, emerging into a larger, grander hall. She noticed, as she tried to keep stride with him, that the doors in this hallway were closed. And there was hardly any light at all—she would have thought a servant would have lit the lamps by now.
They entered another empty, dark, and cold hallway, this one much wider, and after another long walk, they reached a drawing room. A warm, pleasantly lit drawing room she was happy to see. She almost cried with relief.
But as she walked in behind him, she noticed that most of the furniture was covered with dust cloths. Was it a storage room?
Marley went to the hearth to stoke the fire. Amelia wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and took in the covered furniture. Even the paintings on the wall had been covered, except for one over the hearth. There were two chairs, a divan, and a small table with two chairs on one side of the room that were uncovered, giving the impression that only part of the room was inhabited. It made no sense. “Are you leaving Hollyfield?”
“Yes.” He stood up from the hearth and discarded his coat. Then his waistcoat. Then his neck cloth. Then he turned around to face her. His shirt was soaked through and clinging to his chest. His skin, and every long curve of muscle, was visible through the wet fabric. Amelia was stunned into speechlessness. He looked...he looked—
“You’re shivering,” he said.
“What?” She blinked. She was shivering from cold in part, but also from the sudden racing of her heart. “Je,I am.”
He walked to where she stood, put his hands on her shoulders, and steered her to stand before the fire. “Stand here and don’t move. I’ll be back in a moment.” He strode from the room.
He returned a few minutes later with a man. “This is Butler,” he said. “He is my butler.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s confusing, I admit,” he said. “Mr. Butler is my butler.” He looked uncomfortable. Uncertain. He said to Mr. Butler, the butler, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Amelia of Wesloria.”
The butler bowed.
A woman hurried into the room like the dogs were chasing her. Her mouth dropped when she saw Amelia.
“Don’t let flies settle on your tongue, Halsey. Her Royal Highness, Princess Amelia of Wesloria, has been caught in the rain.” He spoke as he dragged his fingers through his hair, flinging droplets of water everywhere.
The woman audibly gasped. But she quickly closed her mouth and curtsied.
“Miss Halsey is my housekeeper. You mustn’t hold the state of Hollyfield against either of them. It’s not their fault, it’s solely mine.”
What was he talking about? The dust coverings?
“If you will kindly follow Halsey, she will give you dry clothes and help you with...whatever you need.”
Amelia was so miserably cold and wet she wouldn’t argue or ask any questions. She pulled her soaked shawl around her and followed Miss Halsey.
