Eight
The jail in Bramley Hollow had been built centuries earlier, a sturdy building meant to contain even the most heinous of criminals, but over the course of its existence it had held very few inhabitants. An occasional drunkard, and as legend had it, an infamous murderess, however for the last hundred years or so it had only seen the passing of the broom from one Holmes descendant to the next.
The lack of inmates didn’t mean the two side-by-side cells, separated as they were by great iron bars, weren’t kept ready and waiting. Inside each sat a narrow cot covered with a wool blanket, and a bucket for, well, for necessary business.
Holmes, quite taken with the gravity of the crimes laid before his prisoners, saw to his duties with the utmost vigilance. That wasn’t to say he was completely without compassion, for he’d hung an extra blanket between the cells to afford Miss Smythe a measure of privacy and given her a candle to keep her from being frightened.
Then he’d locked the cells and the doors tight and sought his own bed. After several days of watching his prey, he was glad to have this recalcitrant bride well at hand—if only to grant himself a much needed good night’s rest.
Amanda glanced at the flickering flame of her candle and sighed. So this was where her grand adventure would end. A solitary jail cell, with the only man she’d ever loved locked away next to her. He might as well have been cast away in a Paris dungeon, what with these iron bars between them. Now she’d never get to…
She shook her head. Not that he would have been so inclined to take advantage of her—he’d only been flirting with her out of pity. Cowhanded, indeed! And to think that she had really been starting to believe that all her foolish dreams might come true.
Hugging her knees to her chest, she struggled not to cry. Especially not in front of him.
“The least you could have done was not confess everything before our first dance,” Jemmy complained from his cell. “I was looking forward to it. ’Tis years since I’ve danced.”
“Harrumph,” she shot over her shoulder. “Save your flirtations for someone who doesn’t know better.”
She heard his cot creak as he sat up. “What the devil do you mean by that?”
“It means I heard everything. Everything you said about me to your friends. You called me ‘cowhanded.’ And how can I forget ‘Pity me, I’ve got to dance the first set with her,’ ” she said. “So please save your breath, for I know only too well that you never really wanted to dance with me.” Amanda swiped at an errant tear that spilled from her eyes despite her best efforts to hold it at bay.
“You heard all that and thought …You believed that I…” Much to her chagrin, he began to laugh. “Oh, you darling girl, no wonder you left.”
“Of course I left. I wasn’t going to stay and be humiliated.”
He crossed the cell and plucked down the blanket that separated them. His fingers reached out to touch her shoulder, but she pulled out of his reach, scooting across her cot until she sat at the very edge. “Amanda, my dearest Amanda, I didn’t mean a word of it. Not a one. Don’t
you see I had to tell those feckless fools a real banger or they would have stayed around and discovered the truth.”
“Save your pretty speeches. I care not what you say,” she told him, tugging the blanket up and around her shoulders. “I know what the truth is— you never cared for me. You only pitied me, and barely that.”
“Demmit!” he sputtered. “Well, if you must know, I said those things because I was afraid. Afraid, I tell you.”
“Harrumph!” But after she sputtered her disbelief, she spared him a glance and spied the look of utter despair on his features. Not that she cared, truly she didn’t. Yet the passion in his voice called to her, gave her hope she knew she shouldn’t dare give any countenance. And out of that hope, she ventured a quiet question. “Afraid of what?”
“If you must know,” he told her, “I was afraid you’d arrive in that ballroom and realize you could have your choice of men. Any man you wanted. And if that was the case, why would you want me? For that matter, why would anyone want me—a useless, lame, scarred recluse.”
His words resonated through her. Why would anyone want me? She knew what that felt like only too well, for she’d thought the same of herself until the day she’d landed by happenstance in Jemmy’s arms.
Slowly she rose from the cot and turned to face him. What woman would want him? Any woman with eyes, she thought as she gazed upon him.
Still dressed to the nines, he had every appearance of an elegant gentleman, from his dark coat, snowy cravat, and richly embroidered waistcoat, down to the snug breeches that fit him perfectly. There was the strong line of his jaw, chiseled and rugged, the breadth of his shoulders, his piercing gaze, all of it spoke of masculine strength and promise, enough to send any feminine heart aflutter.
But more than that, she saw the honesty in his gaze, heard the anguish in his words, felt the nobility of his intent as if it were the sheltering blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
His scars? His leg? What did they matter?
And yet he couldn’t believe that she, of all people, would see beyond his outer flaws. To her they were only more evidence that this was a man who lived his convictions, chased after his ideals rather than just boasted endlessly and uselessly of them over port and cigars.
“That’s what you think of me? That my feelings for you are so…so…fickle?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If that is so, why would you want me?”
They stared at each other, both set in their own stubborn resolve, both too afraid to be the first to confess the truth that could mean their happiness or their unending despair.
“Oh, bother,” he said, waving his hand at her. “Forget I said anything. Think what you like of me.” He stomped back over to his cot and flopped down on it, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I still would have liked to have that dance.”
“It wouldn’t have been our first,” she shot back, nudging her slippered toe against the cold stone floor. “We danced together years ago at Almack’s.” What did she care if he discovered the truth now? With her family so close, it wouldn’t be long before all her secrets were laid bare.