Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

P ain throbbed within her skull, making her too aware of the taut pull of her hair and her pulse in her temples. That strange, sickly sweet smell still clung to her nostrils, but Amelia immediately put together that she could at least move her hands and sit up.

Her stomach was roiling from the terrible spin in her head, and she reached out blindly for something to steady herself. Amelia had yet to open her eyes—the thought sounding too uncomfortable—so when a hand found hers, she jumped.

“There now. You’re all right.”

Amelia recognized the voice, and a sliver of relief filled her. It wasn’t Richard, but as she cracked a lid and allowed her vision from a single eye to focus, she could make out a familiar face. Dark hair atop a tall, slender frame crystallized as she blinked several times, and she shook her head to stop how it bobbed back and forth.

“I-Isaac? Is that you?”

A warm hand came down over her own, and Amelia leaned into the hold that kept her upright.

“Yes, Amelia. I’m right here.”

She sighed, accepting his help as he pulled her up into a seat. Amelia rubbed her forehead as the ache continued to throb.

“Oh, thank God. I was quite worried. Well, I was quite unconscious, it would seem. But thank heaven that you found me. I have no idea what happened. I was taking to the garden for some fresh air, and the last thing I remember was hearing rustling in the bushes around me.”

Looking up at the Earl, Amelia offered a bewildered smile, still struggling to get her wits about her. She’d clearly been drugged by something, and the thought of what might have befallen her made Amelia sick to her stomach.

“Goodness, do you…” Amelia felt herself sway again and closed her eyes against the swelling discomfort. “Do you have anything to drink? I fear I am about to fall over.”

When she glanced up at Isaac once more, Amelia first took in his easy smile, a sight she’d seen after the few times she had taken in too much of the drink. But past him, Amelia did not see the striped blue and teal wallpaper she knew to be in his drawing room. She had visited his home a handful of times, and wherever she was now was not familiar at all.

“Where…” She looked around them more, noting the small windows on either side of them and the bench seats that sat beneath them. “Is this a carriage?”

Amelia’s pulse quickened, and she glanced down at the floor, noting the brown stains that dusted the bottom of her dress and the mud on Isaac’s boots. Why should she be in a carriage? Why would Isaac not simply return her to the care of her maids in Heartwick as go anywhere at all?

As her stare swung back in his direction, Amelia noted with not a small amount of concern the smirk on his face. There was a knowing, self-satisfied air about him, and she could not help but reel backward slightly.

“Isaac? Why are we in a carriage?”

His smile widened to the point, in fact, that his face appeared stretched too far, and his stare flared as he watched her. He didn’t blink, and there was a slight tremor in his hands as he gripped a handkerchief in his lap.

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Amelia. We shall go on a trip. I have arranged everything.”

Isaac had the rare moment when he was with their friend group where he attempted to control the festivities or could not contain an outburst when something had not gone according to his plan. During those moments, Amelia had always felt a twinge of genuine fear when she looked upon him.

Now was far worse.

The happiness of his expression was unnerving and almost hysterical. Instincts were occasionally a person’s most tremendous power, and right this moment, Amelia’s were screaming at her to run.

“Isaac, I should not be leaving if I’ve just been…fallen. My staff will certainly be on the lookout for me.”

He chuckled, his brow nearly at his hairline now. “I am quite sure they are. But we will go somewhere far from this dreadful city where we can be alone at last.”

“Alone? I don’t…”

But Amelia’s words faded away as realization hit her. Isaac wished to take her out of London and her home. He wanted to take her somewhere as the two of them. He…he had feelings for her? No, that couldn’t be right. She had been his friend for years, and he had never once spoken of such emotions.

Still, Isaac had always been quite affectionate with her. It had never gone to a disrespectful place or been more than propriety would allow, but he had always been sure to remain in close proximity.

Oh, God…What have you done, Isaac?

But surely she must be mistaken. Isaac had been one of her dearest friends for the longest time. He had been at her side through ups and downs and had always been a patient, encouraging ear to hear her complaints. Bile rose up the back of her throat, and Amelia shook her head.

“Isaac, you are certainly joking. I cannot leave my home without notice. I am needed. And we should be inviting the others of course. A friendly getaway does sound most appealing, but these things must be planned for.”

The joviality she had seen on Isaac’s face snapped away like he’d been slashed by a driver’s whip. His entire countenance changed in a lightning strike, and Amelia pushed backward in her seat.

“NO!”

His voice was a dark edge, a blade through the tenuous comfort of the carriage, and he slashed a hand through the air as he leaned forward, glaring at Amelia with wild eyes.

“I will not deal with those incipient fools a day longer!”

Amelia could hardly recognize the voice of the man who spoke to her, nor his face—this true one that he had kept locked away. Isaac Hicks was not the man she believed him to be, and the fury he was ready to unleash on her made Amelia’s internal sirens call out in warning.

“Isaac, please, you must?—”

“What must I?! Hmm? I have done enough in service of your fickle affections. No more!”

Tears stung at the corners of Amelia’s eyes. She had never seen anyone in the state that took hold over Isaac. Regardless of the years spent together, she was terrified for her safety and entirely at a loss for what to do next.

Shaking, Amelia secretly fondled the folds of her skirt for the chatelaine that she usually wore with her at-home attire. Had Jane remembered to put it on? Had Amelia? She had been so in such a daze she could not say if the thing were attached to her hip.

“I have stood at your side for decades!” Amelia couldn’t stop the flinch as he screamed at her, and she fought to swallow as she stared at Isaac with horror clamping down on her throat. “Decades! And you have seen fit to give yourself to some near-stranger. You do not care for your husband. You never have, and yet you allowed him to stuff his prick in you! You have allowed him to ruin you, make you his kept harlot!”

There was nothing Amelia could do to stop the tear that slipped down her cheek. Isaac’s words were daggers in her chest. He sullied the memories of the time she spent with Richard, calling her nothing better than a prostitute when he did not understand how much she loved Richard.

Worse, Amelia had not told anyone but Charlotte of her time with Richard, and she trusted her friend to never have mentioned such a thing to anyone else. She knew that no one had been there at the house when they were together, but she had told Charlotte when Isaac was supposed to be still in the drawing room at her home.

Oh, God…Did he…

Memories sent Amelia’s head spinning, and she abandoned her search for the items she wore at her waist. She could recall the way Isaac was coming out of the drawing room when Charlotte and she were returning. Had he been at the door listening to their conversation? Moreover, Isaac had come into the hallway when she went out alone at Frederick’s. What had he planned to do before Richard arrived?

In any case, one thing was clear. Isaac had been spying on her.

“I have been the one at your side, protecting you. Predators lurk around you at every turn, Amelia. I only wish that I had been able to deal with your horrible husband more permanently.”

Her eyes flared wide, wholly stunned by Isaac’s words, and her fear tripled in intensity. Would he go so far as to harm her husband? Richard was a Duke and attacking him would come with severe consequences. Indeed, the Earl had to know better than to do such a thing—if not for morals than for the punishment he might face.

Still, he did not look afraid. If anything, it was the conviction of a man driven mad with want that exuded from Isaac’s eyes. Amelia didn’t understand. Had she done something to encourage the man’s feelings like this? She didn’t think she was responsible for giving the Earl the wrong idea. Amelia had always been friendly but respectable with Isaac.

And what could this unhinged man mean about predators? She was as safe as ever with her husband and nearly all of her friends, present company now expressly excluded.

“What are you talking about? There are no predators, Isaac.”

She wanted to snap at him, to tell him that the only danger that existed in her life was him. Still, Amelia was not that foolish. Isaac was a threat, and she could not provoke him much further if she did not want his ire turned on her.

“Did you think I was really going to allow some man to come at you on the street? First, he tried at your drum and then after the Earl’s dinner party. I would not have it.”

“Richard is my husband. I…Wait…” Amelia’s skull ached as she put more of the facts together, including Isaac’s mention of the drum. Her husband had never attended any of her gatherings. He’d been gone for five years and missed them all. Who could Isaac be referring to?

And then an inkling of understanding tickled at the back of her mind.

No, he couldn’t have. That is too far. He…

But Amelia could not be so confident anymore. Isaac had captured her, used a drugged handkerchief to knock her unconscious, and taken her away from Heartwick. It was evident that the lengths to which Isaac would go to secure her were great indeed.

“What are you talking about, Isaac? Who was the threat at the drum, the dinner party?”

Amelia sat rigid as a pole in the carriage, her mind cutting to the side momentarily to worry over where Isaac was taking her. But she had to deal with one problem at a time. Right now, she sought to understand the depths of Isaac’s convictions.

Who was he talking about, and what had he done?

“Don’t play stupid, Amelia. It is not only your husband who was concerned over the Viscount’s affections.”

Her stomach dropped, her mouth following suit. “The Viscount?”

Isaac clapped in front of her face, the gesture making Amelia jerk away as she yelped.

“Wake up! Your husband returned after he tried to get into your skirts at the drum because even that bastard could see what a problem he was. The entirety of the Ton understands what the Viscount is like. But who do you think it was that got the man to run off? Hmm?”

Amelia couldn’t speak. It was all too much, and the fear and panic and revulsion were stirring together in a cauldron of poison that was sure to send Amelia running for the doctor.

“And he didn’t stop there, now did he? That man was all over you at the dinner party, and again, your blasted husband sought to take my credit and shove him from the table. Ah, but he couldn’t claim the prize of truly delivering the Viscount to justice. You ran off, and before that man could ever get to you, I took care of it.”

“Took care…Isaac, please tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” he scoffed. “Ensure that the infernal rake couldn’t lay a finger on you? Of course, I did. I will not have anyone touching what belongs to me. And if that means I have to break every damn bone in their body, then so be it!”

All this time, through the conversations at Charlotte’s, Isaac sat right there, calm as ever in the face of our outrage for his crime. It was Isaac. It had always been Isaac, and it was he who was responsible for beating the poor Viscount like some common ruffian.

And Amelia had seen nothing, no hint of his true colors. The carriage bounced over a pothole in the road, and she was tossed to her side. Isaac had abducted her, and he was taking her Lord knew where.

What am I going to do?