Amelia grimaced at her reflection. Her lips were still tinged blue but it was her hair that was the real disaster. River water was not kind to her thick hair and it hung like rat’s tails about her face, even after a good rub with a towel. Most of her pins had been lost after her dip in the water but she attempted to pin some of it up with the remaining two she had discovered amongst her hair.

Her fingers shook while she attempted to push them in. Not from cold, though.

She shook her head at herself.

Excitement.

She couldn’t believe it. It still coursed through her, faster than the river. As soon as they had dragged themselves to safety, she had felt it. Hot and exhilarating, the sensation flowed through her body and made her want to do something else reckless.

And when she had looked at Nicholas, she had seen the same thing in him. It was a wild, giddy sort of feeling that she had never experienced before unless it was through one of her characters in her books.

Now she understood why he always rode so fast or insisted on fencing with real swords or liked to tease the bull at Mr. Branstons’ farm when they were children. He was trying to regain that feeling. She could not deny she wanted to as well.

Amelia smoothed down the borrowed dress. It was far simpler than even her basic dresses as she and Catherine were too petite for one of dowager viscountess’ dresses, so they had been lent some from the serving girls. Her own dress had been swiftly removed by the housekeeper to be washed and hung.

It was not exactly how she had hoped to look when she saw Nicholas again. Rats tails for hair and an unflattering gown. But she was here for a purpose and that was not to make Nicholas see her in a different light—not that he ever would. She was here for her letters and whether one could conclude the river incident was bad luck or not, it had bought them plenty of time here while they dried off and warmed up.

Giving up on the pins, she put on the slippers provided and opened the door out into the hallway. Uxbridge was not the largest house in Hampshire but it was designed to fit the latest fashions. Paintings of various country settings hung on the walls, occasionally punctuated by sketches of the architecture of the building.

“Are you well?”

Amelia whirled at the sound of a baritone that never failed to get her heart pumping. She swallowed hard. The damp shirt and soaked breeches were gone, replaced with a clean shirt, waistcoat, dark breeches and a cravat. His hair still had a tousled look to it but was certainly drier than hers.

“I-I am, thank you.”

“Not too cold after our dip?” There was a twinkle in his eyes that made her warmer than she thought possible. 

“No, I am quite warm. You must thank your maid for the dress. I shall have it sent back as soon as we are home.”

“I hope you do not intend to rush away. You and Catherine have been through quite an ordeal.”

Dear Lord, she was drowning again. Drowning in his dark eyes and the way his lips moved when he spoke. She was over him, was she not? She had put any love for him firmly inside her books and that was where it would remain.

And yet…

A sigh escaped her.

“You felt it, did you not?”

Amelia blinked at him. “It?”

“Yes.” He took a step forward, sucking the air from the corridor and making her feel a little faint. “It. That feeling. That sensation. You felt it when we escaped the river.”

“I—” She did but she had no idea how to express it.

His smile changed. A darkness entered his eyes. He leaned farther in. “You and I are more alike than I realized. But then, perhaps I should have realized…” He shook his head. “I should have—”

“Oh my!”

Nicholas took a hasty step back when her sister emerged from the room next to hers. Catherine also wore a plain gown that didn’t quite fit her around the waist and hung loose. “You look almost as bad as I do,” Catherine declared. “Though your gown fits better.” She poked Amelia’s ribs.

Amelia tapped her sister’s hand away. “Catherine! Think yourself lucky we could borrow them or else we would be going home in soaked gowns and what would mother say?”

“She’d have a fit and I would laugh,” Catherine said petulantly.

“She would have me marked as a man of terrible manners indeed if she knew I nearly let you drown on my land,” Nicholas said, voice dry.

“I did not nearly drown. You two on the other hand.” Catherine motioned to them both.

Nicholas looked to Amelia and something shot between them. Or at least she thought it did. It was that same look they had shared by the water. As though they were one and the same, breathing and living through the same experience.

She looked away. More likely it was her overactive imagination hoping for these things. As much as she tried, it seemed her feelings for Nicholas only needed a little nudge and they bubbled to the surface.

“Shall we go downstairs for some tea? I should imagine you would like a warm drink and to sit by the fire.”

Catherine clapped her hands together. “Oh yes. As long as there is cake!”

“There is always cake, Kitty.”

Nicholas led them downstairs to the parlor room. Above them, angels and cherubs and gods were painted, while gold cornicing surrounded the ceilings. The windows spanned from almost the floor to the ceiling and were draped with pale green curtains. The room had not changed much since she had last visited though the portrait above the fire had. Where once the old Viscount’s portrait had been was now a new one.

Amelia could not help but pause and admire it. The artist had captured Nicholas’ likeness perfectly, from the curl of his dark hair to the slight smile that always lingered on his lips.

“There’s something strange about having one’s face bearing down upon one all the time,” he commented. “But it is tradition. I put off having it commissioned for too long and my mother would not let it be so I thought it was about time to get it done.”

“The artist did a wonderful job. Though I understand your position. I think I would find it odd to see myself hanging on the wall every day.” Amelia moved to sit by her sister who had thrown herself unceremoniously onto a seat.

“Your father should commission one.” He stood and waited until the footman had served their tea and cakes on a table between all the chairs. “All you beautiful redheaded girls together would make a wonderful painting.”

Catherine laughed. “You don’t need to charm us, Nicholas. No one wants to see our redheads all over the wall.”

He sat opposite them both. “Not at all.” His gaze locked onto Amelia and her heart stuttered in her chest. “I should like to see more redheads in portraits.”

The slight smile on his lips made her mouth dry. What did he mean by that? Why was he looking at her so intently? Amelia reached for a cup of tea for want of anything else to do.

Catherine straightened. “Why do you not take Amelia to see your new books after we have finished our tea?” She gave Amelia the tiniest nudge which nearly spilled her tea.

Amelia clasped her cup tightly. They had discussed how they would search out the letters but had come to few conclusions. If Catherine was able to explore unchecked, she might be able to find them after all.

“If you would like to, I would be delighted.” He took a sip of tea. “Would you like to see them too, Kitty?”

She shook her head emphatically. “Books are Amelia’s thing. If you do not mind, I shall take a tour of the house. It has been a while since I was here.”

Amelia winced. Was her sister being too obvious? However, Nicholas did not seem bothered by the request and once they had finished their tea, he took Amelia alone to the library. Catherine gave her a quick wink before darting off. She only hoped her sister did not get herself into trouble.

She had set foot in the library at Uxbridge a few times but it never failed to excite her. The scent of books and all the darkened spines surrounding her sent a thrill through her body. It was unlikely any of her titles would end up in a library like this but she did not mind. She enjoyed writing what she did and others loved reading her books or else she would not sell. It might never be considered great literature but it pleased her to bring pleasure to others.

 “Here’s my new additions.” Nicholas motioned to a selection scattered on the side table. “I have yet to organize them.”

He went to pick one up as Amelia leaned forward to take the very same one. Their hands touched and she jerked away from his touch, feeling as though she had put her hand directly into the fire. Yet this was a pleasantly warm sensation.

“Forgive me.”

She meant to take a step back but somehow ended up stumbling forward—his touch made her woozy. Nicholas put his hands to her arms. His fingers singed through the fabric and surely left marks. She risked a glance up at him and found his gaze lingering on her face, her lips. He looked deep into her eyes and a crease appeared between his brows.

“How is it I never saw you before?” The words came out slightly ragged.

Lips parted, Amelia sucked in a shallow breath. It was all she could manage. How many times had she dreamed of him looking at her like this? But what did he mean about never having seen her before?

“I—”

“How could I have missed this?”

She heard the words but could not process them. She had no time to. As he uttered the last syllable, he drew her hard into him. The air flew from her lungs.

Then his lips were on hers. Hard and hot. She froze for a mere moment, her eyes wide open. He moved his mouth over hers and she had no choice but to close her eyes and savor every moment.

Amelia followed his lead, tilting her head and parting her lips just a fraction. Somewhere in the back of her mind was another Amelia, questioning if this could really be happening. The Amelia who was presently kissing Nicholas, however, did not care for reasons or whys. She gave herself up entirely to it, her body boneless and bending to his will. He held her tighter and his solid chest crushed against hers. She was aware of his thigh brushing hers and of his fingers digging into her arms. He smelled of leather and a little cologne.

His tongue brushed between her parted lips and she met it with her own, tasting the sweetness of tea on his tongue. A tremor ran down her spine and spread through her body, making every part of her warm and achy in the most delicious way.

Nicholas teased the corner of her mouth with his tongue then swept into her mouth once more. A slight groan escaped Nicholas and the sound made her want to swoon.

“Oh my goodness.”

Nicholas reacted quicker to the interruption than she did. He let go of her and tore away. Amelia blinked, feeling like a newborn lamb, stumbling about on new legs. She finally comprehended the interruption when she noted her sister in the library doorway. Heat rushed into her face.

Catherine gave her a little wink then turned her attention to Nicholas. “I did not mean to interrupt. I was actually a little lost. It has been so long since I explored Uxbridge.”

Nicholas cleared his throat. “Of course. It’s a fine job you found us then.”

Catherine motioned over her shoulder. “If you and Amelia have more, um, books to look at, I can continue my explorations. No doubt there are more rooms for me to get lost in.”

“No!” Amelia said sharply. “No, we really must be going. We have imposed on you long enough, Nicholas.”

Amelia snatched Catherine’s arm and began dragging her out of the library.

“It’s no imposition,” Nicholas said. “No imposition at all, I assure you.” There was something slightly dark and curious in his eyes, as though he wanted to drag her back into the library and start kissing her all over again. But surely not? He loved Lavinia, not her!

“We must be going.”

“But...” Catherine tried to tug away but Amelia kept a firm grip on her.

“Thank you for your help,” Amelia said brightly and practically dragged her sister out of the library.

Nicholas did not follow or try to make her change her mind, much to her relief. She could picture him standing in the library, watching them go, his cravat slightly askew and his hands tucked behind his back, watching her with curiosity as though he had never seen her before.

That was what he had said, was it not? That he had never seen her before. Whatever that meant.

Amelia marched her sister out of the house and it was not until they were a way down the road leading from the house did Catherine tear away from her.

“Amelia, you must tell me everything,” she demanded.

Head high, Amelia shook her head and continued walking. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Nothing to tell? Goodness if it had not been me who had caught you, you would have been ruined and engaged by now. That’s hardly nothing.”

Amelia paused and turned to face her sister. “You will not tell anyone.” She said it as a hopeful command.

“Of course not. Unless that is, you want to be ruined and engaged.” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Nicholas loves Lavinia. I would not wish to be married to a man who loved someone else, particularly my own sister.”

Catherine sighed. “Oh, must you always be so straight-laced and sensible? He practically swept you off your feet. I saw it, remember.” Her eyes sparkled. “He kissed you as though you were the only woman in the world. I’m certain he was not thinking of Lavinia.”

Amelia shook her head rapidly, mostly to rid herself of these thoughts that were crowding her mind. Nicholas had kissed her. Kissed her passionately. Somehow, they had gone from polite conversation to sensual kissing. and what a kiss it was. Certainly better than kissing Tommy Bridges in the stables after her sisters dared her to. No, Nicholas had kissed like a man who wanted a woman with great desperation. It was the sort of kiss that she wrote about, dreamed about, but had never experienced. Truth be told, she had not been sure they truly existed.

Oh dear, her legs trembled as she recalled it.

“Stop being the sensible one for a change,” Catherine nagged. “Go back and kiss him again.”

Amelia continued to follow the road from the house. “I cannot and I will not. He loves Lavinia.”

“If a man kissed me like that I would certainly not be running away.”

“I am not running.”

“Very well, walking. At an unnaturally quick pace.”

Amelia shook her head again. Regardless of how wonderful that kiss might have been, she could not allow herself to fall into the trap of loving Nicholas again. It had taken her long enough to get over him. She could not bear to go through all the heartache of watching him with someone else once more whilst pining away for him.

“Forget the kiss. Did you get the letters?”

Catherine grimaced. “Not quite. I would have snatched them up had it not been for that nosy old bat of a housekeeper. You know she was quite stern with me.”

“She probably thought you were trying to steal something.”

“Do I look like a thief?”

Catherine had that perpetual twinkle of naughtiness in her eyes. The youngest Chadwick girl had often been up to mischief in her younger years and not a lot had changed since. She could see how the housekeeper might think she was up to no good.

Amelia shrugged. “Well you were technically trying to steal something.”

“If it’s yours in the first place, I do not think it stealing. Anyway, I might not have managed to get the letters but I do know where they are.”

“Where?”

“On his desk, in his study. And you’re in luck. It looks as though he has not opened them yet.”

“Oh good. Perhaps I can still get them back.”

“Perhaps you should turn around, kiss him into submission, and snatch the letters back.”

“No,” Amelia said sharply. “No more talk of kissing. I mean it.”

“Spoilsport. That’s the most excitement I’ve had in days.”

Imagine how I feel, thought Amelia. That was the most excitement she’d had in years. As the oldest sister, everyone relied on her to be sensible, to set an example. Excitement did not often go hand-in-hand with that.

“We need a new plan,” Amelia concluded. “A way to slip in without the need for excuses.”

“We could fall in the river again.”

Amelia gave her sister a sharp look. “No.”

Catherine laughed. “I was only teasing. I have no desire to go back into that cold water again.”

Some small part of Amelia almost wished for it again. Of course, she did not want to fear for her sister’s or Nicholas’ life. As soon as she had seen her sister climb out on the other side, she had realized Nicholas was the one in trouble and had hardly thought before jumping in after him.

The experience had been scary and…and strangely exhilarating. They had cheated death. How wonderful it had felt to be alive afterward.

“Well, perhaps Julia can come up with something. She was always the devious one.”

Amelia arched a brow at her sister. “Julia is?”

Catherine nodded. “Absolutely. You’re the sensible one. Julia is the devious one. Emma is the annoying one. And I’m the delightful one.”

Amelia could only smile and take her sister’s arm. “Yes, you are absolutely right. You’re the delightful one.”