Stranded With The Marquess (Regency Stories Book 1) Page 11

  Matthew pulled the cork from the wine bottle and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice before lifting it to her lips with what she found was now practiced ease as she continued with her musings. What if this Elizabeth Matthew loved so much found out that they had shared in that kiss? Would she be angry with him? Or would she be understanding? If it were she, Amelia, who had found out the man she loved had kissed another woman regardless of the circumstances, she was unsure if she could forgive either of them. This made her even more despondent.

  “May I share in that bottle?” Matthew asked, bringing her back to the present. “If you do not mind sharing, that is.” The amusement on his face suggested he had moved past his concern for what they had shared in earlier. Yet, maybe he had no regrets for what had happened. Maybe she had imagined his inner struggles as a way to ease her one conscious.

  “Amelia?”

  She glanced down at the bottle still in her hand and laughed. “Of course, I do not mind sharing,” she said with a mock sniff, “but take small polite sips, like me.” This drew a snort from him. “You find that humorous?”

  “That I do, Miss Browning, for you are quite the partaker of spirits. I have never seen a woman drink as much as you in my life, and I have had many encounters with women from all walks of life.”

  She stared at him with mock indignation. “You, sir, are no gentleman whatsoever,” she said as she gently slapped his arm, her melancholy dissipating. “In fact, I do believe you act more a barbarian than anything else.” When he gasped, she gave him a single nod as if to punctuate her words. “Yes, that is what you are—a barbarian!”

  “Well, if I am a barbarian, then you, Miss Browning, are a barbare…barbarianne” he thought for a moment and then put a finger in the air, “a barbarianess!”

  This had them both laughing until they fell to the ground and tears ran down their faces. Amelia shivered, not from a chill but upon finding the sound of their mixed laughter a harmonious song to her heart, and she took another larger drink of wine to make those thoughts disappear before handing the bottle back to him.

  Matthew stopped and glanced up at their small home. “One moment,” he said and ran, the sand flitting up behind his feet. When he returned, he carried his coat across his arm. “Allow me.”

  Amelia placed the bottle between her legs and her body swayed for a moment as she allowed him to help her into the coat. A warm feeling flooded through her when his fingers touched her skin, and she stared up into his eyes in wonderment.

  “That will keep you warm,” he said as he took his seat once again.

  She pulled the coat in tighter and reveled in the feeling of the cloth on her skin. However, that article of clothing could not compare to how that slight touch of his fingers had warmed her just moments before.

  The bottle continued to pass between them, and laughter became all the easier as time went on. Soon she found everything he said to be amusing.

  “And you should see the gardens of my country home,” he was saying between gasps. “I have one rose bush that stands this tall!” He showed her using his hand to measure a certain height that seemed much too tall for any rose bush—his hand reached up as far as he could get it, and he almost lost his balance—which only made her laugh that much harder.

  Her entire body felt warm and light, the stars shone brighter than she had ever seen them before, and the man across from her was the most handsome of men.

  “I need to check our rations,” he said as he pushed himself up and stumbled to where they had placed the bags George had brought with him when they escaped the sinking ship. Only one was still full, the other two now empty after their three days and two nights on the island.

  Amelia watched him as he tried to keep his balance and she could not help but tighten the coat around herself. It smelled of him, a masculine smell mixed with the smell of the ocean, and she pressed her nose to the fabric and inhaled deeply. Knowing it belonged to him made it even more alluring, and she laughed when she heard him mumbling unintelligible words as he rummaged through the packs.

  She folded her legs and wrapped her hands around her knees. Feeling a small bulge in the pocket of Matthew’s coat, she reached reaching in and pulled out a box in which one would use to keep jewelry. Curious, she opened the box to find a silver chain with a small locket pendant hanging from it. Guilt threatened to choke her as she read the names inscribed on either side of it: Elizabeth and Matthew.

  She snapped the box closed and bile rose to her throat as she realized that she had done exactly what she had wished not to do—she had allowed herself to fall in love with a man who loved another. A man who had bought the woman he loved a precious gift to hang from her neck. A woman who, no doubt, was at home this very moment crying tears of anguish as she wondered if her love would ever return to her. If this Elizabeth could see Amelia now, she would not blame her one bit if she was filled with such anger she wished to have her flogged, for she deserved it in full force. Amelia had allowed her heart to take over her mind, and at that moment, she realized how horrible she truly was.

  “Oh, thank you,” Matthew said, startling Amelia from her thoughts. She looked up at as his hand snatched the box from her. “I had forgotten that was in there.” He quickly put it in the pocket of his breeches and cast his eyes downward as if looking at her was difficult. She could not blame him for it would have been difficult for her to look at her own reflection.

  “I should return this,” Amelia said as she shifted to remove the coat.

  “No. Please, keep it. You will need it for our journey.”

  Amelia was unsure what to do. Had she somehow overtaken his mind with her kiss, causing the man to forget about his own Elizabeth? She hoped it was not the case, for that would finalize her deeds forever.

  “Please?” he asked, an urging in his voice.

  She nodded and then he returned to his place.

  They resumed their talks and even shared in a few laughs, but the atmosphere had changed considerably. Before long, they ran out of topics to discuss.

  “I believe I will retire,” Amelia said, pulling herself from the log. Her stance wobbled a bit, but she closed her eyes to gain her footing and headed toward their home. It was not long before he joined her, crawling in and moving to the far side of the shelter. She lay with her back to him as tears rolled down her cheek and onto the sand beside her. Her mind continued to admonish her for what she had done, but her heart tore at her, telling her she had done nothing wrong.

  Perhaps it was coincidence, but it was as if Matthew could hear her thoughts when he said, “The faults and shortcomings will never lie with you, Amelia. It all lies with me.”

  She rolled over and smiled, but the tears did not stop. He reached out and took her hand in his. The hold was comforting and brought about the peace she needed. It did not take long before the tears stopped and she fell asleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daylight blazed outside, but the structure Amelia had built protected Matthew from the sun’s rays. With a deep yawn, Matthew opened his eyes and blinked a few times. Then he smiled as he looked over at the woman curled up next to him. Once again, she had rested her hand on his chest, her skin smooth and the touch comforting. Her head was nestled in his arm, and he had never seen a woman more beautiful.

  He pushed back a few strands of hair from her face, which caused her to twitch her nose as the ends tickled her. His heart soared, and he wished to hold her in both arms and cover her face with kisses. Then he was reminded that she was already spoken for and he had a duty to return her to those who loved her, which included her Harold.

  The thought of the wealthy man who had dealings with the Royal Family and a large wool business brought about a bit of jealousy, though it was not his business dealings that brought on that jealousy—Matthew had far more invested in various schemes than any of the Gentry or below. However, the thought of the man marrying Amelia was what caused that envy to grow to heights he had never know
n. Never before had he ever begrudged a man anything he had until he met Amelia. Many might think it foolish—and he was prone to great bouts of foolishness—but Matthew knew that he had fallen for this beautiful light-haired beauty to a degree he never imagined possible. Whether it was when first night they had dined together or as he had watched her construct their home, he did not know, but he would readily admit that he was far more than infatuated with her. No, it was worse than that. He was in love with her.

  The notion intrigued him, for he understood that it was what happened when people wed. Two people in love exchanging vows to honor and cherish one another. Perhaps it was silly romantic blather, but if he were told to do such a thing at that precise moment with Amelia, he would not hesitate to do so.

  Amelia let out a small sigh, and her blue eyes met his as a smile formed on her face.

  “Good morning,” he whispered.

  As if suddenly realizing that she had woken once again in his arms—or somewhere close to being in his arms—her eyes widened in shock as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Before she could say anything, he spoke, if only to save her from the embarrassment she surely felt. “Sometime during the night, I turned over. I did not mean to get so close, but when I realized my mistake, I did not want to wake you by moving away. I apologize if I have been inappropriate.”

  Her cheeks deepened into a blush that Matthew found more than a bit alluring, and she smiled and said, “I understand. With such confined sleeping arrangements, it is unlikely we can avoid such situations.” She looked down at the ground and reddened even further.

  How he wished to lift her chin, look into her eyes, and tell her that he wanted nothing more than to lie by her side and hold her forever. Instead, he said, “Today is the day we set out for…”

  The sound of voices outside the shelter made him stop and turn. He crawled to the opening and then put up his hand to stop her from following.

  She nodded, clearly understanding the seriousness of the situation. “Please, be careful,” she said in a quiet voice. “They could be savages meaning to bring us harm.”

  “Do not worry,” he whispered back. “No harm will come to either of us.” He summoned his courage and crawled through the opening. As he rose from his crouched position, he spotted two men on horseback leading a single horse behind them. Confusion ran through him as the men approached, for they were clothed in conventional shirts, coats, and breeches, though of lower caliber than what he wore. Either it was because they could not get the latest fashions here on this island—he imagined that not many ships carrying the latest of anything stopped on this island if what he had seen of the passing vessels over the past few days was any indication—or these men were some sort of laborers or servants. That, then, made him wonder if there was a hierarchy here such as they have in the more civilized countries, like England.

  “Sir,” one of them called out with a hand raised in greeting.

  Matthew sighed with relief. At least they spoke English. And fairly good English, though more of the lower class than of those with an education.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Matthew said. He heard Amelia crawl out and come to stand beside him but a step back, the coat wrapped tightly around her. “Tell me, how did you come to be on this island?” he asked.

  The men stopped their horses within a few feet from where he stood with Amelia. They appeared to be in their early thirties, and the one who spoke had a small scar on his cheek. “Don’t know,” that man said as he scratched at his jaw in thought. “We’ve always been here.”

  “Oh!” Amelia gasped before placing a hand on his arm. “Matthew, these men…”

  Matthew shot her a stern glare and brushed her hand away. “Wait,” he whispered back. “This is quite fascinating.” Then he turned his attention back to the men. “Are there others like yourselves on this island?”

  The man gave his companion a confused glance. “Of course, sir. Thousands upon thousands, I suppose.”

  “Matthew, please, listen,” Amelia whispered, this time more urgently as she tugged on his arm.

  However, Matthew was much too excited to have met natives from this remote island, he pulled away from her. Imagine! A hidden island full of people that had always been there! Who ruled over them? He knew every civilization that lived beneath the rule of the Crown, and none could have been as small as this, at least not anywhere close to where The Topaz had sunk. “Tell me, my good man, what is the name of this island?” He held his breath as he waited for them to answer. If he had made some sort of wondrous discovery of a hidden peoples on an island that was not dominated by England, then perhaps he could stake claim to it. In the name of Crown, of course.

  Amelia sighed heavily beside him, and Matthew gave her a quizzical look.

  Then the man replied, “Well, we call it England, sir.”

  Mathew repeated the word as realization came over him at the same speed as his embarrassment. His face and chest heated as the cool, gentle touch of Amelia came to his shoulder.

  “It is all right, Matthew,” she said quietly. “We are safe now; that is what matters.”

  He could not look at her. For all his talks of bravery and looking after her, they had landed on a beach in the very country to which they had intended. What a fool he was.

  “Sir, if I may,” the scarred man said as he stepped from his horse. “Four days ago, a man walked into our village, drunk as could be, raving of some shipwreck. Well, we thought it was just some sorta tale he had schemed up while drinkin’, so we paid little heed to him. Well, last night he promised a fee to anyone willin’ to come and collect you.”

  Amelia poked her head around Matthew’s side. “You mean to tell me that George has been drinking these past few nights?”

  The man nodded. “That’s right, Miss. You’re about an hour’s ride from Portland, Dorset.”

  Matthew groaned and then nodded at the men. “Give us a moment, if you please. We will follow you back.” He turned to Amelia. “I do not know what to say.”

  What he had expected was mocking, but instead, she smiled. “Say nothing, for you have kept your word to protect me and return me home.” She held out her hand. “Come. Let us gather what we can so we might leave.”

  With a nod, he followed her to the bags and gathered the few remaining items. Amelia went to remove the coat, but he said, “You may keep it.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, that pleasant blush forming on her cheeks once again.

  He mounted the extra horse the men had brought and then pulled her to sit in front of him. Within minutes, they were off, and though he was happy they had been found—and angry at George for his foolishness in keeping them out on the beach for more time than was necessary—he also felt a deep sadness. For he knew that when he retired for the night tonight, Amelia would be nowhere near him. His time with Amelia was now at an end.

  ***

  Matthew and Amelia followed the two men, Reggie and Ted by name, along the beach that wound around what Matthew found was a small peninsula, which explained why he thought they had washed up on an island. If he had walked even ten minutes west, he would have easily seen the cliff line that etched along the Dorset border.

  At one point, they cut through the forest, the trail easy to follow. Even if they had walked into the forest, they would have eventually made their way to this very path that led them to Portland, a large portal town he had visited on numerous occasions, a place where he had an office and from what Reggie told him, worried parents who awaited their arrival. Word had traveled very quickly for anyone to have heard news of the shipwreck let alone to have journeyed from Sussex to Portland after learning of it. It had always taken him a day and a half to make the trek.

  As they entered the city proper, people stopped to stare wide-eyed at the unkempt couple, women whispering behind their hands and pointing, more than likely commenting on their state of undress. Amelia appeared to be ignoring them. Matthew doubted that she did
not hear their dark comments or see their looks of disapproval, but she had no reaction as she sat stiffly in front of him with her eyes straight ahead. At one point, she gave a derisive sniff, but that was the only sign she was aware of the various whispers around them.

  After an hour and a half of riding, they arrived at a hotel. Matthew dismounted and then helped Amelia, savoring this last moment she would be in his arms.

  She looked up at him, and he wished they were alone once again so he could kiss her one last time.

  “Your coat,” she said as she moved to remove garment.

  “It belongs to you now,” he said in a quiet voice as he pulled it back over her shoulders. “Please keep it as a reminder of our…time together.” He would have laughed at the thought of her keeping such a filthy piece of clothing, but her eyes misted and he wished he could kiss the tears away. However, the reality around them kept him from doing such a thing. Tongues would be wagging as it was; there was no need to give them more ammunition.

  “I have nothing to give you in return,” she said.

  “You have given me more than you realize,” he replied. He wished to elaborate, but a woman’s cry had them both turning toward the front of the hotel. An older woman in a blue dress with white stripes—an older version of Amelia right down to her deep-blue eyes and blond hair—came rushing down the stairs and pulled Amelia into a tight embrace. “Amelia!” the woman cried. “My Amelia. You are alive!”

  Amelia returned the embrace as a man followed closely behind. Matthew watched on as the family united.

  “My darling Amelia,” her mother said, holding Amelia at arm’s length. “Harold was busy with work but he sends his best.”

  Matthew frowned hearing these words. The man chose work over the welfare of his future bride? Only a cad would do such a thing. He had little time to consider these thoughts, however, as Amelia introduced him to her family.