“Very well,” he mumbled, sliding his arms underneath her.
She yelped in surprise as he scooped her up off the settee, carrying her in his powerful arms to the garden doors. There, holding her with just one arm while she looped her arms around his neck for purchase, he opened up the doors and took her out onto the terrace.
Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted down like blossoms, a thick blanket already coating the gardens beyond, the world completely silent. Warm and safe in Lionel’s arms, Amelia smiled with untold glee and stuck her tongue out to try and catch a snowflake.
“What are you doing?” Lionel asked, with some laughter in his voice.
“Clearly, I am trying to taste a snowflake,” she replied merrily, for there was so little to love about winter. Yet, snow made it feel like the very best season.
He chuckled softly and, to her surprise, joined her in sticking out his tongue. She peered up at him in quite admiration, almost forgetting what she was doing. But as a flake landed on Lionel’s tongue and a beamed down at her triumphantly, she soon remembered… and would not be beaten in one of her favorite games.
A particularly large flake finally gave her what she wanted, the cold and delicate fragment landing on her tongue. It melted immediately, a droplet of cool water running down the back of her throat.
“You see,” she said. “No harm can befall me out here, with you. As long as you are at my side, I shall always be safe and quite content.”
The amusement faded from his face, and she knew she had said the wrong thing, even if she could not explain why.
“It is too cold. You will catch your death out here,” he said abruptly, carrying her back inside.
She did not protest as he wielded her over to the settee and lay her down, though she held onto his neck as he did so. His eyes widened in surprise as he tried to pull back, realizing that she was still hanging on.
“You should let go,” he said, his voice thick.
She frowned up at him. “What did I say to make you sad? You were enjoying yourself a moment ago, and then… you were not.”
“You did not say anything to make me sad. I realized how foolish I was being, allowing you outside in that bitter weather in your condition,” he replied, though she did not believe a word. “Now, I will remain here with you for the rest of the night. So please, let go.”
Pursing her lips, she finally released him… and swallowed down a rush of disappointment as he lay back down on the floor. At least he was nearby; she could not protest against that.
“If you need anything, I am right here,” he said from below, as his hand came up and reached for hers.
Somewhat surprised, she sandwiched his hand between both of hers, and blushed furiously as she gazed up at the ceiling. Perhaps, the accident had changed something for him. Perhaps, this was the beginning of a new chapter for the two of them, where nothing was left unsaid and their marriage of convenience became something altogether more fulfilling.
There you go, raising my hopes again.She smiled and closed her eyes, sending up a prayer that when tomorrow came, things would, indeed, be different.
A few hours had passed, and still Lionel could not sleep. He lay there on the hard floor, holding onto Amelia’s hand, unable to even think of drifting off.
I cannot do this to her…
The same thought had been racing around his mind in endless circles, leading nowhere. He was relieved that she had woken up and seemed to be herself, her memory intact, but he wondered if I might have been better for her to lose some of her memory. Or, perhaps, he just wished that he could.
Hurrying back to Westyork, making promises to the heavens, had confirmed something in his head, once and for all: he lovedAmelia. He was not merely falling for her—hehadfallen. But it had also confirmed something else; that he did not want her to have to go through the fear, the panic, the dread of what he had just endured.
No matter what I feel, I must stop her from knowing. I must change things, make her grateful that I am nowhere near her.
He gently squeezed her hand, listening to the soft sounds of her sleeping breaths, knowing how much it was going to hurt to relinquish her. All he had to do was think of her sticking her tongue out, catching snowflakes, or the press of her lips against his, and his resolve threatened to crumble.
It will be for the best.
It had to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Amelia stirred to morning light caressing her eyelids, blinking awake.
“Good morning, My Lady,” Bea’s voice greeted her, snapping her attention toward the nearby armchair.
It took Amelia a moment to get her bearings. She gazed down at her hand, running her fingertips across it, certain that when she had fallen asleep, Lionel had been holding it. She glanced down at the spot on the floor where he had lain, but there was no rolled up blanket and no Lionel.
