Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

T he evening sun sank behind a galleon of clouds, casting a cold golden glow across the cobblestone streets of Brighton. Salty air ruffled Amelia's dark curls as she lingered outside Dorothy's house, heart pounding in anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, she finally approached the open doorway, her pulse quickening as she neared the shadowy interior. Just as her gloved hand touched the door frame, a nervous young maid appeared from a side room, her eyes wide as saucers on a tea tray.

"Who are you, miss?" the maid whispered. She wrung her hands as her focus flitted about behind Amelia, as if she had been expecting someone else. "What… what business do you have with Lord Talley?"

Amelia hesitated, considering her next words carefully, aware of the weight of her sister's safety hanging in the balance. "Please," Amelia implored. "I need to speak with my sister, Dorothy."

The maid's eyes somehow widened even further, and her fidgeting abruptly stopped. "Your sister? Her Ladyship is your—"

Before she could finish, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Suddenly, Dorothy appeared, her blonde locks in a tangled mess, her once vibrant blue eyes clouded in worry. Upon spotting Amelia, relief flooded her face.

"Amelia!" she gasped, rushing forward and grasping her sister's hands. "What are you doing here? Lottie, it's all right, go back inside, please."

"But, my lady, Lord Talley will be—" Lottie began to protest.

"Please, leave us," Dorothy instructed, her tone firm yet gentle. She watched the maid leave until she was wholly out of sight before she turned back to Amelia, her expression softening.

The joy Amelia felt upon seeing Dorothy quickly transformed into deep concern. Her once bright visage now held a haunting dullness that left Amelia's heart aching. Her skin had lost its sun-kissed glow, and dark circles loomed under her eyes. It was still her sister, but she seemed like the living dead now.

"Look at you," Amelia murmured, her vision blurring with tears. "What has he done to you?"

"Amelia, why have you come?" Dorothy asked, ignoring her sister's concern. "You shouldn't be here. It isn't safe for you. I thought I warned you not to—Oh God! Did he send you another correspondence after mine—"

Amelia quickly took Dorothy's hands in reassurance. "No, no, nothing of the sort."

"Why have you risked coming then? You know it's dangerous for you to be seen with me. Who accompanied you?" Dorothy's gaze flickered around anxiously, scanning the streets for a liveried carriage.

"Nobody," Amelia replied softly. "I came alone."

Dorothy fell deadly silent, her lips pressed into a tight line. Amelia didn't know what to think. This wasn't the Dorothy she remembered, this wasn't the Dorothy from the letters they'd exchanged—and she knew for certain now how much her husband had changed her. Gently, Amelia pulled her elder sister into a comforting embrace, and a glimpse of her former self shone through when she hesitantly returned the gesture.

"You little fool," Dorothy murmured as they parted. "Come with me," she continued, leading Amelia deeper into the house. "We should find somewhere more private in case he returns."

They walked in silence through the house. Dorothy pulled Amelia down some corridors, each bland and empty, devoid of portraits, decorations, or any semblance of a loving home. They ascended a narrow flight of stairs, stopping outside a plain wooden door.

"Quickly, inside," Dorothy urged.

Amelia nodded before slipping into the dimly lit chamber. The room was small and sparse, but tastefully furnished. A corner bookcase boasted a collection of novels and poetry, while a gray damask sofa rested below a tall sash window, reminiscent of Amelia's own set up at the east wing of Stanhope. A fireplace at the heart of the room provided some warmth, painting a vastly different image to the barren corridors, but there was still something off about it all. The room felt… safe, and only bore signs of Dorothy's desperate attempts to maintain her dignity amidst the chaos her life had become – little touches of elegance amongst the disarray. Or a fa?ade to convince people everything was okay, when the truth was far from it.

"Here we can talk freely," Dorothy said as she closed the door behind them. "Please, sit down. Oh, forgive the old sheets, I was meaning to change them today."

Amelia sighed, doing as she was told, a weight seeming to lift from her chest. "Has he been cruel to you?" Amelia paused after seconds of silence, "That was a foolish question."

Dorothy didn't respond right away, biting her lower lip instead. "…You have still not answered my question, Amelia. Why have you come here?"

"For your safety," Amelia insisted. "I cannot bear any longer the thought of you suffering at the hands of that wretched monster."

Dorothy shook her head, her expression pained. "I've no choice. He is my husband."

"Only by cruel fate," Amelia countered, gently taking her sister's hands. "You deserve so much more than this life."

"Perhaps," Dorothy murmured, her gaze dropping to the rickety floorboards peeking out from beneath a musty carpet. "But we must be realistic. There is no escaping him."

"But there is. We can leave everything behind and start anew. Together," Amelia said, standing up now. "Perhaps—perhaps we can move to a quiet cottage in the countryside, just as we used to dream when we were children."

"Amelia, be sensible," Dorothy replied, her voice hollow. "Those were merely childhood imaginings. We are grown now, with responsibilities and obligations—"

" You don't have any obligations to that man!" Amelia argued.

"—And we do not have the means to live such lives. At least, I don't. I am bound to him legally. I have nothing," Dorothy added, spreading her hands in helplessness. "I am glad you have visited me one last time. Truly. I missed you so terribly so, but you need to go now."

"Dorothy, I—"

"Please, don't make this harder than it has to be, Amelia."

"But we can make it work!" Amelia blurted out. "In a week or so, I will receive my inheritance from Papa, which will provide enough for us to live comfortably until we can find a more permanent solution."

Dorothy didn't immediately reply, simply shaking her head with hopelessness shrouding her expression. And Amelia couldn't blame her, for if she had to live under similar circumstances, she would grow to despise hope too. But just as suddenly, Dorothy's brows knit together. "Your inheritance?" she asked, puzzled. "But how? You are not yet married. And Father's will explicitly states—"

The mere mention of ‘marriage' triggered a flood of emotions and memories in Amelia. The way Gideon's hazel eyes burned into hers, the warmth of his touch, and the passion that had once flared between them. A pang of sorrow hit her as she tried to regain her composure. They were memories she needed to forget if she wished to survive and protect her sister.

"Amelia… what are you keeping from me?"

"Nothing," Amelia shook her head, quickly blinking back tears. "It's just... complicated. But I promise, everything will work out. I'll explain it all once we're far away from this place. For now, let's focus on getting you out of here."

A tense silence filled the room for a moment, with Dorothy not agreeing to the plan. However, unlike before, she did not outright reject Amelia's pleas either.

"Please, agree, just this one time," Amelia fell to her knees by Dorothy, grasping her sister's hands.

After a brief pause, Dorothy gave a nod and embraced her sister. "All right… I'll come with you. We can leave—but if we are caught, I will tell the Earl it was my idea alone, understood?"

Amelia nodded quickly.

"Follow me. And be silent, he has eyes and ears all around this place. I only trust Lottie." Dorothy went to the door and opened it quietly, before looking about and then gesturing for Amelia to follow. She led her upstairs to a shared bedchamber that Amelia presumed belonged to herself and the Earl. After ushering Amelia in, Dorothy quickly stepped in herself, casting a final, cautious look down the corridor to ensure they were not followed.

Once inside, Dorothy knelt by the bed and pulled out a sizable trunk. It seemed some dresses and gowns had already been packed for the move, and the sisters began hurriedly stuffing the rest of the suitcase with anything and everything of consequence, from muslin gowns to satin slippers.

A knock at the door stopped both of them dead in their tracks. In part fear and part foolish courage, Amelia instinctively moved in front of her sister, prepared to protect her at all costs.

"Who's there?" Dorothy called out hesitantly, her voice wavering slightly.

The door slowly creaked open to reveal Lottie, Dorothy's timid maid. Amelia let out an audible breath. The maid glanced around the room, taking in the sight of the trunk and strewn clothing. "My—my lady. I... I heard your urgency, and I want to help," she murmured nervously.

"Thank you, Lottie, but I cannot let you get involved," Dorothy insisted, her face etched with concern for the young maid. "You've already taken enough risks for my sake."

"But, my lady—"

"Please, Lottie. I can't bear the thought of you getting into trouble again because of me," Dorothy said. "The best way you can help is by letting us know when the Earl returns."

"Yes, yes, of course I can do that." Lottie nodded, albeit hesitantly, before slipping out and shutting the door behind her.

After what felt like an eternity, the sisters finally finished packing. Amelia stretched her back, wincing at the stiffness that had settled in her muscles. But there was no time for rest; they had a narrow window of opportunity before the Earl returned.

"Are you ready?" Amelia chimed, locking eyes with Dorothy.

"I hope you know what you're getting us into, dear sister," Dorothy replied, a determined glint shining through her fear.

A sudden rap at the door, sharp and unexpected, jolted the sisters once more. Dorothy tensed up, then called out, "Lottie, I told you we—"

"Dorothy?" a deep voice bellowed from the other side. "Why is the door locked?"

Dorothy shot to her feet. "He's here," she whispered fearfully.

The banging continued and the door handle shook. Amelia took a bold step in front of Dorothy even though fear trembled through her as well. She couldn't believe that Dorothy had been living with someone like this.

"Open the door, Dorothy! I thought I told you no visitors."

"Is there any other way out of this room?" Amelia whispered to her sister. Dorothy shook her head, mute. Panic began to settle over the room.

Suddenly, the banging stopped. Amelia held her breath, inching closer to her sister as if she would be able to protect her from anything to come. Silence stretched into the seconds—and then there was another bang before the door handle clattered to the floor and the door swung open.