Amelia (Southern Hearts Book 2) Page 16

  Amelia rose and dropped to her knees in front of him. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

  He shook his head. "I was afraid."

  "Afraid I wouldn't like you if I thought you didn't have land? Don't you know me better than that?"

  "At the time, no I didn't."

  "And now?"

  "I'm still not sure."

  "How–"

  "Amelia…" He cradled her hand in his. "I know that right now you wouldn't hold my loss against me. You feel pity for my situation. But in time when I failed to provide for you, or for our family, you would change your mind. You would wish you'd married another."

  "Charles, how can you say that? Don't you know I love you? I've always loved you. Not your land, not what you can give me, just you."

  Tears slipped from her eyes and he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Too bad it's not enough."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Charles escorted Amelia back to the Green's manse. She crossed her arms and hung back as he left. Days passed, and her family prepared to return to Louisiana.

  Note after note graced his porch. A servant from the house brought them on behalf of Amelia. He read them and tossed them into the fire only to retrieve them before the flames snuffed them out.

  Every letter was folded and placed into the box she'd given him for Christmas. The other letters were buried in a metal container under the stables until the time they were requested by the litigator.

  The day came for Amelia to leave, and he stood on the edge of the property hidden in the maze of hedges.

  The family gathered outside the wagon and hugged each other. Time came for them to climb inside the hired coach and Amelia twisted in a circle. Tears glistened against her cheeks. Charles fought his desire to rush to her. Breaking away would never be easy. Going to her now would only increase the pain.

  "He's not coming," said Millie. "I'm sorry."

  "No, it's okay. I understand. He doesn't want to hurt me further," said Amelia.

  "How can you be so understanding of his stupidity? What is wrong with him? Trust that I will speak to him when I see him next."

  "Millie, leave him alone. He suffers as much as I. Wait, I take that back. Don't leave him alone. He needs to know you and Stephen still care for him. He needs to know he is not by himself."

  "I don't think I can do that."

  "Promise me. Promise me you will let him be a part of your family. That you will accept him as if he was my husband."

  "Amelia! You don't know what you ask of me."

  "Yes, I do." She grabbed Millie's hands. "In my heart he will always be my husband, so it shouldn't be that hard for you to do this for me."

  Millie nodded and Stephen put his hands on her shoulders. "Come, my dear, it is time for them to leave."

  "Yes. They need to leave or they will be traveling in the dark."

  Henri helped Alice into the coach and then stopped. "Where is Cora?"

  "Cora? Why she was here just a minute ago. Did you see her leave?" Millie asked Stephen.

  A manhunt ensued as they searched for their youngest sister. The searchers closed in on Charles' position and he huddled against one of the hedges.

  "What are we doing?"

  He jumped at the sound of Cora's voice.

  "What are you doing here? Your parents are looking for you," he whispered.

  She grinned. "I know."

  "Cora!"

  "Don't shout or they'll find us."

  "Cora, you need to reveal yourself."

  "Did you know this maze is really not a maze at all? I tried my best to get lost but no matter which direction I take I always end up right back here. It is like a never ending circle. The designer must have been a genius."

  Proudly Charles said, "My grandfather designed it."

  "That would be, hmm, Victor's father, correct?"

  "Yes," he said with his gaze downcast.

  "As I said, he must have been a genius. I've been trying all day to get lost. I don't know why I ever believed Amelia. She told me if I went in I would never find my way out and someone would be forced to come in and find me. Did you know she never takes risks? She thinks I don't know about all her fantasy journals she keeps, but I do. So I know she dreams of doing something big, something important but she's given up on it. She's even given up on getting married and starting a family."

  "What?" asked Charles, his throat tightening.

  "Men are so stupid. Look, my sister loves you. Like this stupid maze, no matter what direction she takes she always ends right back with you. And all those stupid fantasies she writes down to make herself seem adventurous has been to prepare her for the most amazing adventure of all."

  "Which is?"

  "To be your wife."

  Silence pervaded and the only noise he heard was his heartbeat racing in his ears. Could Cora be right?

  "There you are. Get your tail into the carriage this instant. If Mother discovers you've been playing around in the maze she will string me up and have my hide," said Millie, her hands planted on her hips.

  "I'll go. Just give me a minute."

  "Why?"

  Cora moved aside, revealing his presence. Millie gasped. "What are you doing here?"

  "Isn't it obvious, he's snooping."

  "Cora, I said to go."

  "I won't leave unless you let me talk to him."

  Millie let her arms fall to her sides. "Very well, have your speech and get to the coach. I can only stall them for so long. And you, Charles Vincent, get out of this maze before Amelia sees you. Her heart is broken enough without having to see you before she leaves."

  He watched Millie leave. Cora gazed at him.

  "I know you think I'm just a kid, everyone thinks that about me. Reckless, unconcerned for my own life, willing to take risks when others sit idly by and play it safe, and most of that is true, but I also know my sister. I know Amelia is going to go home and pine for you for the rest of her life. She will take care of my parents like a dutiful daughter and never expect anything in return. But you could change all that.

  "Delia told me how your uncle took your land. Now don't be upset, girls need something to gossip about and since you aren't really family, it seemed safe enough."

  "Thanks."

  "Don't mention it. When she first told me, I was real angry about what he did to you but the more I thought about it the more I realized Victor did you a favor."

  "Oh, he did?" asked Charles, cocking his brow.

  "He did. By taking the house from you, he gave you the opportunity to leave and pursue your own dreams. The only thing holding you here is gone. You are free to move to Louisiana and take care of my sister and the Beaumont Estate. Don't you see? You're free to marry her."

  "Cora! Cora! Where are you? Please come out, dear." Alice Beaumont shouted and Cora jumped.

  Cora gathered her skirts and moved backward. "Think about what I said. One of these days I hope to have you for a brother-in-law. I just wish you had a younger brother. You're real handsome."

  He gasped as she ran from the maze. Her mother scolded her before enveloping her in her arms and leading her to the waiting coach. She glanced over her shoulder and mouthed, "Remember what I said."

  Charles slid to the ground, folded his knees into his body, and dropped his head atop them as the clopping of the horses echoed around him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Charles leaned back against the sofa in Stephen's office and crossed his legs. "Any word?"

  "None. The litigator is studying all the papers we sent him, but it may be awhile," said Stephen.

  "I don't know how I let you talk me into sending them to him. What if he loses them? They are my only proof."

  "Calm down. It'll be fine. I told Hines to stay with the papers at all times."

  "You sent a slave to do the work of a real man."

  Stephen's jaw dropped and Charles instantly regretted his words.

  Stephen said, "I sent a servant whom I trust and you
should as well. What has gotten into you?"

  "Nothing. I just want it to be over. I want to get in the house and arrange everything back the way it should be." Charles laid his elbows on his knees.

  "Are you sure that is all there is to it?"

  "Yes, what else could it be?" asked Charles.

  "It could be you're missing Amelia." Stephen moved to the corner of his desk and crossed his legs.

  Charles straightened. "No, it couldn't. I'm perfectly fine with her being gone. It gives me more time to concentrate on the things that are important."

  "Like ripping up old carpets and putting down new ones?"

  "Precisely."

  "Why do you do this?"

  "What?"

  "Lie to yourself. We both know what is bothering you. Maybe if you wrote her a letter."

  "And why would I write her a letter? I told her it was over. She told me she loved me, she cried on my lap, and I pushed her away and brought her back to her parents. There is nothing more I can say," said Charles.

  "Do you know Millie didn't ever want you to enter the house again?"

  Charles studied his nails. "I figured as much."

  Stephen returned to his chair. "But Amelia begged her to allow you to continue within our family. She worried about you even when you pushed her aside."

  "She loves me," Charles whispered as he stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  "And you love her. The sooner you stop denying it the better off you'll be."

  Charles spun and pummeled the wall with his fists, sending portraits rattling. Chest heaving, he faced Stephen. "Yes, I love her! I've loved her since the moment we met in the stables and she flashed her smile at me. But it doesn't change anything. I have nothing to offer her."

  Stephen stood and leaned over the desk. "I'm only going to say this once so listen. Amelia doesn't want anything from you."

  He stalked out of the room and left Charles alone with his thoughts.

  ****

  "Amelia? Amelia? Where are you?"

  She lay on her bed in her room studying the ceiling. It was amazing how different a ceiling could be. Millie's house sported swirls and patterns of myriad varieties, yet her own home offered naught but straight lines.

  "What are you doing?" asked her mother.

  "I'm lying here. What is it?"

  Her mother stomped to her wardrobe and fingered through the hanging gowns. Pulling one free, she dropped it on the bed beside Amelia.

  "Get up and get dressed."

  "Why?"

  "Amelia Jean Beaumont, get your sorry hide off this bed and put on some clothes. I'm sick of watching you wallow in self-pity day in and day out."

  "Until such time as I'm needed, I see no reason to put myself out." She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.

  Pressure of her mother's hand fell to her head. She heard her sigh. "Amelia, I know you're hurting and I'm sorry, but this is not the end of your life. You'll find someone."

  Facing her mother, she said, "What if I don't want to find someone? What if I just want to remember my time with Charles?"

  "That is your choice, but right now is not the time to make it. You're eighteen. You've lots of time left in your life. One of these days a man will ride up on a white horse and sweep you off your feet and when he does you will forget this ever happened."

  For the thousandth time, tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "What if I don't want that? What if I don't want a man on a white horse? What if I want to just live with my memories?"

  "That is your choice, of course. But for now, you live in my home, and I need you to dress and come downstairs."

  Amelia nodded.

  Alice patted her on the head and left. Wobbly from weeks in bed, Amelia struggled to dress. Weight loss caused the gown to hang from her frame. Finally clothed, she stumbled into the hallway.

  "You're up," said Cora, waiting opposite Amelia's door.

  "By force."

  "Did Mother tell you why she wanted you to come downstairs?"

  "No."

  "Ah." She turned to walk away but Amelia grabbed her arm.

  "Oh, no, you don't. You tell me this instant what Mother is up to."

  "I don't think I should."

  "Cora," she said, drawing out her sister's name.

  "Fine, I'll tell you. Peter came to visit."

  "Oh, no."

  "Oh, yes. He talked to Father for a long, long time," said Cora.

  "You don't think…"

  "That he asked to court you? Of course that is what he did. The boy can't wait to get away from Priscilla and his mother. Courting you would be a small price to pay."

  "Thanks," said Amelia.

  "You know I love you."

  "A good thing, for your sake." Amelia tapped a finger to her head. "Why are you warning me?"

  "Because I know you love Charles, and I don't believe you're ready to think about courting someone else."

  "Can I say I'm amazed at your astuteness?"

  "You can."

  "What is your suggestion?"

  "You could join the circus?"

  Amelia scowled.

  "Or how about traveling up and down the Mississippi River on a gambling boat?"

  Amelia folded her arms across her chest.

  "You don't like those ideas I see. So how about this one?"

  Awed, Amelia listened. Cora finished and Amelia gawked.

  "But I can't do that."

  "You can, and you will. Or if you like you can spend the next few years avoiding Peter and his mother."

  "Very well. I will follow your advice. You do know that when Mother finds out she will be furious."

  Cora shrugged and smiled. "Yes, I know."

  Amelia hugged her sister before turning on her heel and running along the back staircase.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The golden sun set over the tops of the brick buildings. Charles gazed out the window while Stephen and the litigator discussed his situation. Hours passed and they agreed Charles had a case.

  "We will see you back here in a month's time."

  The peck on his arm startled him and he left his position and joined Stephen outside.

  "You didn't say much."

  "What was there to say? He'd studied the paperwork and you have the details memorized."

  "True, but still I expected you to speak on behalf of yourself."

  Charles ignored the statement as they climbed into the hackney and rode to the hotel. Millie remained inside with the twins. The two youngsters had been fretful since their arrival the day before.

  "Let's just relax at the hotel and talk about this later."

  "Agreed," said Charles.

  He saw Stephen to their suite of rooms. "I think I'll go downstairs and I'll see you two in a bit."

  "Charles, don't go to the tavern."

  "Why would I do that?"

  "Because you want to drown your sorrows over Amelia."

  "I don't want to talk about this with you."

  Stephen stood in front of the closed door. "Look, I understand you miss her but this is not the way."

  Charles clenched his teeth. "You understand nothing. You've got your woman, your children, and your inheritance."

  "Don't do this."

  "You mean don't alienate you because you are the only friend I have," said Charles.

  "Yes."

  "Then let me go. I need to think."

  "Then go. Just remember drinking won't solve your problems–"

  "It will only make me sick on the morrow. I remember. Give Millie my love."

  Charles turned and walked away.

  Outside in the cool air, Charles strutted among the crowds. Families walked in huddles. Individual men and women pushed and shoved to reach their destination. Lovers embraced and lay against the walls only to be pushed apart by the mass exodus.

  On the horizon was a tavern. He'd spotted it as their wagon entered Charleston. In fact he knew it well. He'd spent many an
hour there drowning his sorrows after the first trial that took his land and left him homeless.

  Drunkards staggered from the open door. Women of ill repute grabbed at their clothing offering their pleasures. Homeless stragglers reached out their hands and begged for coins.

  He stepped away from the tavern and into the street. His gaze lit on a couple. They were arm and arm, gazing lovingly at one another and laughing. As they drew closer, his heart skipped a beat.

  They continued and Charles followed. They stopped in a park, spread out a blanket, and lay on its softness. Producing a basket, the lady emptied the contents. Strawberries dipped in chocolate dangled before the man's mouth and he nipped the lady's fingers in his desire to consume the sumptuous snack.

  Charles hid behind a tree and watched the flitting expressions of happiness cross his uncle's face. Had he ever seen Victor look that way?

  In all his memory, Victor had never smiled. The slaves joked he'd been sullen from birth. Even when they played, running through the yard pretending to sword fight, Victor never laughed. A constant crease covered his brow.

  But now, as he stretched out next to Cassidy, he seemed truly happy. Could he take that away from him? Could he pull the rug from under his uncle and ruin Victor's life as he had ruined his?

  Charles knew Cassidy loved Victor, truly loved him. But would Victor accept her affection if he didn't own the Vincent Estate?

  How would he react if he knew that the man who raised him wasn't his biological father?

  The rough bark rubbed his head as he leaned it back against the tree. Within his grasp he held the power to destroy his uncle and take the revenge he longed to have. Question was what would he do with it?

  ****

  "Amelia Jean, where are you going?"

  The sound of her mother calling her had her stopping before she reached the back door.

  "I was going for a walk."

  "After I expressly told you to come downstairs to the study?"

  "Did you say the study? I thought you just wanted me to dress."

  "I want you in the study…now."

  "But–"

  "Don't argue with me. Your father and I have been more than patient with your needs, but now you need to grow up."