Thundering down the street and pushing his stallion to its limit, Amos finally caught sight of the Bertram carriage, making its way towards Lord Thompson’s townhouse. Relieved, yet filled with rage, he spurred his horse on, hearing Bernard close behind him.

"Esther? Esther!" he roared, riding alongside it and managing to catch a glimpse of her face before her father pulled the curtain closed. "Stop the carriage!" he shouted to the coach driver. "Stop it now!" Moving his horse directly into the path of the carriage, the driver had no choice but to rein the horses in, and slowly, the carriage stopped moving.

Leaping from his horse, he threw open the carriage door, only to be thrown back as Lord Bertram punched him directly in the face. The force of the blow threw him backward, and, as he scrambled to his feet, he saw Lord Bertram was already dragging Esther from the carriage. Ignoring the blood pouring from his nose, he staggered to his feet and ran to them. Knocking himself bodily into Lord Bertram, he managed to loosen Lord Bertram's hold on Esther's arm and, pushing her behind himself, stood, ready to fight.

“Get out of my way,” Lord Bertram snarled, waving his cane menacingly. “She’s my daughter; you have no right!”

“She is betrothed to me,” Amos growled, his temper close to snapping. It was only by sheer force of will that he stopped himself from attacking the man. Glancing to his left, he saw Bernard stand next to Esther, putting an arm around her to help her stand without swaying.

Lord Bertram's eyes shot from his daughter to Amos and then to Bernard. He knew there was no way he would be able to take on both men and get his unwilling daughter back. The game was up.

"She belongs to me!" he screeched, his desperation beginning to show. "I need her!"

“I am not a possession, Father!” Esther cried, tears streaming down her face. “You do not get to choose my husband. It is a choice I will make for myself! I do not belong to anyone, most of all, you.” She took a few steps forward, her hands closing around Amos’s strong one. Her touch took the edge of his rage as he placed his free hand on top of hers.

“You are despicable,” Amos thundered, never taking his eyes from the Lord Bertram. "A man who would sell his daughter for his own selfish reasons. You disgust me."

He turned away, gently pulling Esther with him. He had nothing more to say, and Lord Bertram could do nothing to stop them.

"Can you ride?" he whispered, feeling Esther tremble. She nodded, allowing him to lift her into the saddle before he pulled himself up in front of her. "Let's go home," he said, turning his horse in the direction of his townhouse, feeling her wrap her arms around him as she leaned her throbbing head against his strong back.

"Esther, my dear!" Agnes rushed towards her, her face pale and drawn with anxiety.

Agnes grasped Esther’s hands as Amos helped her into a chair, his own face lined with concern.

“Good heavens,” Agnes gasped, seeing Esther’s bloodied head and Amos’s nose. “Whatever’s happened?”

“All in good time, Mother,” Bernard said, putting a gentle arm around her shoulders. “Let’s make sure they’re all cleaned up first; there will be time for questions later.”

Agnes nodded, pulling out a tissue as she dabbed her goddaughter’s cheek. “Of course. Bernard, fetch some hot water.”

“I’ll go with you,” Amos said, standing up.

“No,” Esther cried, reaching for him. “Please, Your Grace, stay with me.”

Amos sat next to her and held her hand. “Of course, I will stay with you. I just need to wipe the blood from my face. I must look quite a sight, and I’m afraid I will scare the servants!” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I promise I will be right back.”

Esther nodded, her wide eyes showing the extent of her fear. “What if my father returns?”

“He won’t,” Agnes replied, shooing Amos away. “Amos has all the doors locked, and I am quite sure he will not try anything, given the circumstances. For heaven’s sake, the man assaulted his own daughter!” She tried to smile, managing only to cry a little. “I should have kept a better watch over you.”

Esther held her godmother’s hands tightly. “He came out of nowhere,” she whispered. “There was nothing anyone could have done.”

“You are safe now,” Agnes replied, finally managing a tremulous smile. “I am sure Amos will never let you go again.”

An hour had passed, and both Esther and Amos looked much more like their usual selves. Although, Esther was going to have a sizeable lump on her head for a few days. Esther felt herself growing tired and couldn’t hold back a yawn.

Agnes rose to her feet, also showing signs of weariness. “You are quite sure you are well?”

Esther smiled. “I am, Godmother. I will see you tomorrow.”

Bernard took his mother’s hand. “Come, Mother, it is late. A lot has happened today, and you need to rest. The Duke has had a room prepared for you.” He lifted his hand in farewell as he led his mother from the room.

There was a long silence, but this time, there was peace in Esther's soul. Amos sat next to her, and she had her hand in his, feeling the strength of his grip as he squeezed her hand.

"Thank you, Your Grace," she said eventually, turning her body so she could look into his face. "I cannot imagine what would have happened if you had not rescued me."

He smiled, moving closer and putting a gentle kiss on her forehead, his eyes taking in the beautiful expanse of her long blonde hair, now let down in its entirety, so as not to pain her head further. “Do not think of it, my love. Nothing can come between us now. And if you are to be my wife, we can do away with formalities. Please, call me Amos.”

Esther let out a long, luxurious sigh, reveling in the tranquility she felt as he held her close.

“You will marry me, won’t you, Esther?”

She pulled back a little out of his embrace to look up at him as she gave her response, “Amos, I think my answer is quite obvious.”

A smile spread across his lips. He lowered his head and kissed her softly, running his fingers through her loose curls at her temples. Esther's heart swelled at his tenderness, feeling him hold his passion firmly in check.

“Tomorrow?” he whispered against her mouth.

“Tomorrow,” she replied, taking possession of his lips once more.