To Catch A Shadow

(Closed for myself and Karnelman )

The old Great North Road ran along the eastern edge of the county through the towns of Newark, Tuxford and East Retford, and for centuries it was the main route from London to York and beyond. Many of the old coaching inns still survive from those days, like pearls on a string. With a constant ebb and flow of human life, the old Great North Road has ghosts and legends all of its own.
Wealthy travellers on the road proved a magnet for footpads and highwaymen and many were relieved of their valuables with the cry "Your money or your life!"
The penalty upon capture was swiftly dealt out. To hang, at either York or Tyburn, was their fate. But even such a grim end didn’t stop the stages and carriages of the wealthy from coming under frequent attack.


The peaceful village of Oakwood owed much to the stately home on whose grounds it had been founded. Not far off of the Great North Road and within a couple of hours ride of York, it saw it’s far share of passing nobles from the South en route to the walled city. Although the village was known to those outside not because of it’s association with Oakwood Hall but because it was rumoured that the highwayman known only as ‘The Shadow’ sheltered there. Of course, when asked by those enforcing the law, the villagers denied any knowledge although the rumours and myths flew around the tavern thick and fast on a night time. The Lord of Oakwood Hall had been charged by those in York to see if he couldn’t find the outlaw who was apparently hiding somewhere on his doorstep. It was all very dramatic and romantic, most of the young women of the village hoped for a glance of the supposedly dashing gentleman thief. All except Amelia.

Amelia Harding was the ward of the Lord of Oakwood Hall and she had other things on her mind. Her own father, a good friend of the Lord, had died the previous year, leaving her guardianship to him. While she was a young lady who would one day be presented at court in London, she still found the opulent surroundings of Oakwood Hall a little daunting at times.

At 20 she had not yet come of age, chestnut colour curls and waves hung down her back in a soft curtain which she usually wore pinned up although curls usually escaped to frame her face, bright green eyes set in a lightly freckled face, she looked younger than her age although her body was as developed as women far older. She had inherited her mother’s delicate frame but it was adorned with rounded hips and a generous bust, something she was never able to hide beneath the tightly corseted dresses she wore.
She avoided walking through the village alone, knowing how the dresses emphasised her natural physique, earning her more than the odd lecherous glance in her direction. Nothing ever came of them however, she was almost always escorted by a maid or one of his Lordships servants. Occasionally even by the Lord himself.

While Amelia did not hope for a sighting of ‘The Shadow’ she had more interest in most in his movements. For she was the only person to know ‘The Shadow’s true identity, something she spent a great deal of her time trying to make stayed a secret.

Sat in the great library of Oakwood House, Amelia let her eyes wander out of the window and across the sculptured lawns and gardens sprawling into the woods beyond. The library was a haven for Amelia, she had always loved to learn of the world beyond the walls around her. Hungering after knowledge of the new world and the countries that spread out around the globe. She would read for hours at a time and she was thankful that her Guardian did not disturb her.
He was kind and gentle and she felt herself very lucky to have left with such a man.

Hearing the chimes from the clock she shut the volume she had been glancing through and replaced it on the shelf before replacing the book and heading down towards the dining room where her Guardian would be waiting for her to join him for dinner. She smoothed the voluminous skirt and pushed a stray tendril of her curling hair back from her face before stepping into the large dining room and curtseying slightly before raising her face to smile at the man before her.
“Good evening, my Lord…I trust you have had a good day…?”
Her tone, as always, was genuine. She genuinely cared for her guardian, he was more than several years younger than her father had been when he had been taken away from her and she felt a real sense of affection towards him. He had been nothing but thoughtful and kind since the day she'd arrived to stay with him.

She had heard stories of wards being married off soon after being taken in by to prevent guardians having to 'put up with them' for longer than they wished. Lord James had made no such attempts to rid himself of her and seemed to genuinely enjoy her presence. She made sure she didn't bother him while he was working at business and kept largely to herself unless he expressed a desire to spend time with her.

He was a handsome man, with a strong sense of goodness within him. Amelia often wondered why it was he was still a bachelor when it was unlikely he would be short of admirers. Part of her hoped to see him settled down with a wife before her own time to marry came around. He deserved to have someone to love him and take care of him as he took care of so very many. Amelia knew of his charitable work and of how well he looked after his servants and their families. Perhaps once the colder, darker nights had set in she might suggest he host a ball. It would give him a chance to promote his most recent charitable causes and give her a chance to introduce him to some of the ladies of the area.

"Do you have plans tomorrow, m'Lord...?" Amelia asked after a moment. "If not, I thought it might be pleasant to take a walk through the gardens before the weather becomes too inclement...but only if you have time..."

Lord James

Lord Robert James took himself far less seriously than most men of his station. Truth was he found it amusing that he was a lord at all. That was to have been his elder brother’s title. All young Robert could aspire to was to perhaps be knighted or maybe married off to some nobleman’s homely daughter and given some meaningless title far from the home he loved. His life changed shortly after he passed his eleventh birthday.

His brother who had not taken to the equestrian skills as a noblemen should was eager to show their father his mettle. It was a beautiful spring day when the eighteen year old had one of the estates great steeds saddled. The young man looked every bit the future lord of the manor sitting astride the great beast. Their father looked on proudly as his heir knocked his heel into the side of the stallion and took off toward the east fence. Robert’s mother gripped her younger son’s hand in fright as she watched her awkward first born’s mount make the easy jump over the low decorative fence. Horse and rider disappeared over a hillock presumably to make the circuit through the close in fields. Two hours later, Robert, who was already a fine horseman accompanied his father and a search party of servants. It was he who discovered the older boy’s crumpled body. Though he still breathed it was obvious that he would not live to see the family home again. Robert cried over his dying brother as he begged the lord to spare the young man.

Poor horsemanship had ended a privileged life and propelled young Robert into the roll of heir. Robert’s father destroyed the magnificent, valuable and truly innocent stallion with his own hand. Robert grew into manhood in a home that was overshadowed by a pall of grief. Though he had everything a young man could want it was a mostly unhappy life. His once loving parents’ hearts had turned to stone. They had simply lost all feeling when fate took their first born from them. Robert took solace in his studies and gave the love his parents no longer wanted to those less fortunate than he. By the time he was nineteen his mother had succumbed to the misery and pain that had been slowly fading the light in her eyes and simply passed one night.

His father preferred only his own company and strong drink after his wife left him. At nineteen Robert was already running the estate that was to be his future. Having grown up in a household devoid of love he did not know how to express the love that was a part of him. He was a good and kind man who treated his servants extraordinarily well and even in youth was devoted to charity. But he made few friends and never seemed to connect with the young women who pursued his affections. Having had no example of how a loving couple behaves and no parent to guide him in such matters he was a failure in affairs of the heart. It was the only failure in his life.

When his father joined his mother in death, Robert was just twenty-five. As the youngest member of the House of Lords, he relied on business associates and his father’s friends to guide him. He became close to one in particular. Though the man was not even twenty years his senior he became somewhat of a surrogate father to Robert. He served as mentor and guided the young nobleman through the often treacherous and cut throat maze of politics. It was Robert’s good fortune to have such an influential mentor and that his father had been a friend of the King. Robert quickly grew to a place of prominence.

Robert was also fortunate to be able to share in a small way in the loving family life of his mentor. He had watched with interest the relationship between his friend and the man’s lovely daughter. Though in truth he was closer in age to the girl than he was to her father, he saw her as a child and likened himself to the status of distant uncle. When she lost her parents it was only natural that she became his ward. He took well to having the vivacious and happy young women in his home. Since she was past school age and rapidly maturing to womanhood, he could have simply arranged her marriage and sent her off. But he could not stand the thought of sending her to live in a loveless home with some oaf of a nobleman.

Soon he would take her to court and watch as her charms attracted young men like bees to the wild flowers of spring. The choice of husband would be hers to make. He hoped that she might find the love that had eluded him. He also knew that he would be sad when the time came for her to leave his home. Hers was the only light that had shown in the great manor since his brother had passed so many years earlier. With her departure that light would once again fade to gloom.

He sat at the head of the ridiculously long dining table in the grand hall. When he lived alone he had more often than not taken his meals in the kitchen with the servants. But that was not a proper place for a young lady to dine. He had considered having one of the anterooms made into a small dining area for Amelia and him to use. But other matters always seemed to take precedence. Of late it was the problem of highwaymen on the roads in the area of his estate. One in particular seemed to have the surrounding villages and traveling nobles vexed and frightened, so much so that the King himself had expressed concerns. Robert knew that he would have to accept the York elders request for help in ridding the countryside of the menace known as the Shadow.

“Good evening, my Lord…I trust you have had a good day…?”

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Having been lost in his thoughts her entrance startled him.

“Ah, there you are. Truth is it has not been a good day. But those things are not subjects for young ladies or the dinner table. Come join me. From the aroma I would say that cook has prepared an unusually fine repast for us this evening,” He said with as much good cheer as he could muster.

"Do you have plans tomorrow, m'Lord...?" Amelia asked after a moment. "If not, I thought it might be pleasant to take a walk through the gardens before the weather becomes too inclement...but only if you have time..."

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He was somewhat surprised by the request. She asked very little of him. Knowing that they had little time together before she left to pursue her destiny, he sometimes wished she would seek his company more often. But he assumed that she preferred the pursuits of youth to the company of her aging guardian. To him that seemed to be the proper way of things. Having lost most of his own youth he did not want to inhibit hers by demanding her time.

“Even were I busy, I would make the time for you, my dear. It would please me greatly to walk in the garden with you. However, I fear we will have to make it an early walk. I have business in York that will take me away the whole of the afternoon and evening. I am sorry to have to leave you in the company of the servants tomorrow night. I shall be enjoying the hospitality of the Lord Mayor of York.”

Truth was Robert detested the Mayor of York and avoided his hospitality whenever possible. He was a bloated self important ass. Worse his wife was a flirtatious cow who was know to cheat on her oblivious husband. It is said in the cloakrooms of parliament that the woman’s twat has seen more Lord’s than the whores at Madame Nelson’s house on Charles Street.

“So what has kept you occupied this fine day? I trust it was pleasant,” He asked earnestly interested as he took a bite of his meal.

Amelia Harding

“Ah, there you are. Truth is it has not been a good day. But those things are not subjects for young ladies or the dinner table. Come join me. From the aroma I would say that cook has prepared an unusually fine repast for us this evening,”
"Then I shall not press you but I do hope it was not too disappointing a day, my Lord..." Amelia replied softly, her eyes meeting his across the table. Candles lifted the gloom from around them and cast them both in a warm orange light.

“Even were I busy, I would make the time for you, my dear. It would please me greatly to walk in the garden with you."
Amelia couldn't help but smile happily at the thought. Their walks in the garden were always pleasant. Away from the house they could discuss any subject that entered their heads, and even if Amelia felt afterwards that she had spoken far too much, Lord Robert never admonished her for it.

"...However, I fear we will have to make it an early walk. I have business in York that will take me away the whole of the afternoon and evening. I am sorry to have to leave you in the company of the servants tomorrow night. I shall be enjoying the hospitality of the Lord Mayor of York. So what has kept you occupied this fine day? I trust it was pleasant,”

"Well, I had some correspondance to catch up on, a few distant cousins in London asking about when I will visit but I think I have managed to evade that issue in my response...I confess I am not yet ready to leave here, assuming you will consent to keeping my company a little while longer..." She smiled, almost guiltily.
"...And then I saw you had added some new volumes to the library...so I must admit to having spent most of the afternoon reading."
She returned his smile before carefully finishing the last of the food on her plate. Once she had eaten her fill, she gently wiped at her mouth with the corner of her napkin and then returned her gaze to Robert's over the table.

Amelia's eyebrow had quirked ever so slightly at hearing his visit to the Mayor's home, assuming his remarks about the day and his dining appointment related back to the highwayman currently terrorising the upper classes travelling along the Great North Road and the area around Oakwood. She knew many of the local nobility had been pressing him to intervene personally to see the thief incarcerated.

"I may be speaking out of turn but, would I be right in guessing the reason for your invitation to the Mayor's home is in connection with that villain, raiding carriages on the Great North Road? I assume they are no closer to his capture, my Lord?" She asked tentatively, not wanting to make his obvious discontent any worse, rising to move to the end of the table beside his chair as he finished his meal and the last of the servants left the room. "I heard from one of the maids that he struck the London stage coach the night before last...were there no witnesses to the crime...?" Amelia refilled his wine glass carefully as she awaited his response.

"Although, they say he gives all that he takes to those in need of his help..." She mused. "Isn't he just helping people...like you do, my Lord, with your donations...?" She asked honestly, almost naively, moving to stand behind his chair and placing her small hands on his shoulders, rubbing the tense flesh gently. Her father had always enjoyed her touch when he was in times of mental turmoil, it was something she had seen her mother doing before her death many years before. She hoped it might have a similiar effect on Robert.

"...And then I saw you had added some new volumes to the library...so I
must admit to having spent most of the afternoon reading."

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“That seems a fine pursuit for a young lady. I am pleased you found the new material of interest. I fear I am not the best judge of what young women fancy,” Robert said with a tinge of melancholy in his voice as he watched her delicately chew the last of her food.

Having lost his mother to malaise and having no sisters, he had only an old maid of a governess and other servants as female contact as he matured from youth to young adulthood. He had little idea what women truly felt in their hearts. For all he knew the books he bought might be utterly distasteful to his ward. He had after all been forced to rely on the word of the book seller. Though he assumed the old gentlemen with the plump wife who had born him many daughters was an honest man and knew something of women’s tastes, Robert knew that the pursuit of silver often tainted a man’s judgment.

"I may be speaking out of turn but, would I be right in guessing the
reason for your invitation to the Mayor's home is in connection with that
villain, raiding carriages on the Great North Road? I assume they are
no closer to his capture, my Lord?"

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Though Robert felt discussions of things political and criminal were not the pursuit of proper young ladies, he did not have it in him to admonish Amelia.

He enjoyed her company far too much to risk alienating the young woman over trivial matters. So he just listened as she continued on about the highwayman’s adventures.

..were there no witnesses to the crime...?"

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“None that I am aware of,” He replied curtly letting a bit of his growing annoyance show.

"Although, they say he gives all that he takes to those in need of his
help..." She mused. "Isn't he just helping people...like you do, my
Lord, with your donations...?"

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Comparing a common thief to his generous acts unleashed Robert’s anger and tongue. He pounded his fist upon the table and turned toward his ward.

“How can you think to compare that reprobate to me and my charitable acts? I give what is mine to those that are less fortunate. I know you may think that I simply inherited all that I have. But it is through hard work that this estate is maintained and I prosper. My largess is made possible by my hard earned income. Even if the legend of this shadow giving to the poor is true and we have no evidence to support that tale, he is still in the end a common thief who prays upon others. His victims are mostly women and others weaker than himself.”

He was truly upset to be compared with a criminal and could not contain the anger that comparison raised within him. He rose and began to pace as he continued.

“You are far too young and inexperienced to understand the heart of such a man. It is very likely not the pursuit of wealth or generosity that motivates him. He is an adventurer and most likely a man that enjoys the dominion that fear gives him over others. He is also a coward, my dear. He basks in notoriety behind a cloak of anonymity. If he was in fact such a champion of the people he would show his face and let it be known to all the identity of the great hero!”

By that point Robert was angrier with himself than Amelia. He had not meant to speak so harshly to her. He had treated her like he might someone in parliament who had challenged his character. He knew that his sweet ward had not intended to besmirch his character. But all the same she had. He could certainly forgive the accidental slander. However, coming from her what might be a slight sting felt more like a mortal wound. He softened his tone as he thought of his duties as her guardian.

“Amelia, you are so young a pretty. But you must learn not to involve yourself in opinions on such matters. These are not things for ladies to concern themselves over. You shall never find happiness in a proper marriage if you express yourself thusly. A husband would be well in his rights to physically punish a wife who spoke such thoughts. Truth is I am likely remiss in not responding with more than words in this situation. But I can not and I am sorry if in my inability to lay hands to you I am derelict in my duties as your guardian.”

He turned away but not before he let his sadness show on his face.

Amelia Harding

The bang as Robert's fist connected with the table top made Amelia jump, her hands swiftly withdrew from upon his shoulders as she found herself stepping back slightly. As he turned in his seat to look at her, she found she had to look away, casting her gaze towards the floor, she couldn't bear to see such anger, especially not when she knew she had put it there in the first place.

“How can you think to compare that reprobate to me and my charitable acts? I give what is mine to those that are less fortunate. I know you may think that I simply inherited all that I have. But it is through hard work that this estate is maintained and I prosper. My largess is made possible by my hard earned income. Even if the legend of this shadow giving to the poor is true and we have no evidence to support that tale, he is still in the end a common thief who prays upon others. His victims are mostly women and others weaker than himself.”

Amelia remained silent, her hands held behind her back, fingers twisting nervously. She had never seen or heard Robert speak in such a tone, least of all of to her, she bit her lip as she heard him move from his chair and begin to pace back and forth in front of her.

“You are far too young and inexperienced to understand the heart of such a man. It is very likely not the pursuit of wealth or generosity that motivates him. He is an adventurer and most likely a man that enjoys the dominion that fear gives him over others. He is also a coward, my dear. He basks in notoriety behind a cloak of anonymity. If he was in fact such a champion of the people he would show his face and let it be known to all the identity of the great hero!”
"I...I am sorry, my Lord....truly I am..." Amelia whispered quietly in the pause that followed. Risking to raise her eyes slightly to meet his.

“Amelia, you are so young a pretty. But you must learn not to involve yourself in opinions on such matters. These are not things for ladies to concern themselves over. You shall never find happiness in a proper marriage if you express yourself thusly..."
Amelia felt a sting of something inside. She had always hated the idea that women were some how inferior intellectually when compared to their husbands, fathers and brothers. Their opinions were surely no less valid than the menfolk who apparently appeared to rule over them. Despite the overwhelming desire to say something to that effect she held her tongue and refrained from comment.

"A husband would be well in his rights to physically punish a wife who spoke such thoughts. Truth is I am likely remiss in not responding with more than words in this situation. But I can not and I am sorry if in my inability to lay hands to you I am derelict in my duties as your guardian.”
Amelia opened mouth but the distress on his face as he turned from her cut her short. She felt her heart ache as she watched him sink back into his chair.
In truth she loved her guardian, moreso than most wards. True she did not see him as a father as such, given his youth compared to her own dear departed father, but she did truly value his opinion and care for his feelings.

Moving to stand beside his chair she paused before gracefully sinking to her knees beside him and resting her hands lightly upon his farearm.
"Please forgive me, my Lord. I had not realised my idle chatter would upset you so, that was the last thing I could ever have wanted to do. I know I talk too much, the other ladies as social gatherings are always quick to tell me my temprament is too...excitable for a proper young lady, but I will try, for you, to curb my tongue." Amelia squeezed his arm gently, silently urging him to meet her hopeful gaze.
"Please, my Lord, please forgive me...let us not let this ruin our evening...I don't think I could retire peacefully for the night if I thought you were still angry with me..."

“No please, don’t kneel,” Robert said, truly distraught that his ward would think to subjugate herself to him, who in truth was not even due the noble title he held.

“I am not deserving of royal treatment. I am far closer to the commoner than I am to a throne. As for forgiveness, if you can forgive my undue anger than I shall forgive your small transgression.”

He knew her transgression was not so small. Even if she did not mean it she had all but declared him to be the same as one of the most ruthless criminals in the region. But he knew his anger was born of the hurt he felt in the comparison and not in the reality of her thoughts. Besides he cared far too much for her to retain the anger. Sometimes he worried that the affection he felt for her was becoming unnatural. She was his ward but his feelings toward Amelia were not entirely paternal. He had watched her grow from a child to a mature young woman. Her body was ripe and he was a lonely yet still relatively young man.

Whores and the occasional romp with a chambermaid relieved his physical need well enough. However, no matter the skill of a wench she was always a poor substitute for a lady of substance. There was no denying his occasional sexual thoughts regarding Amelia. But it was more than mere lust that troubled Robert. It was his desire for the type of companionship that he imagined men took wives for in the first place that truly vexed his soul. The longer she lived in his home the more painful the thought of her marrying another was becoming. Their age difference was not so great that it would be an obstacle were their situation different. However, she had been placed in his care as if a daughter; his reputation would be badly harmed were he to attempt to court Amelia.

“Now you must pardon me. I have need of a visit to the privy and then a short time alone. If you are up for it perhaps you would favor me with a game of picket later.”

In truth it was not the call of nature that Robert wished to heed. He needed to be away from her for a bit to gather his thoughts and quash his emotions. He was a man who always remained in control. Even during heated debates in parliament he did not raise his voice. He believed logical, calm and rational argument was the way to carry the day. He had trouble being true to that ideal when faced with his conflicting emotions toward his ward.

Amelia Harding

"No please, don’t kneel...I am not deserving of royal treatment. I am far closer to the commoner than I am to a throne. As for forgiveness, if you can forgive my undue anger than I shall forgive your small transgression.”
"I already I have, my Lord, and I thank you for yours..." Amelia smiled, relief evident on her features as she rose up from her position beside his chair and moved to sit on the chair closest to his.

She knew many wards wouldn’t concern themselves with the thoughts or feelings of their guardians but she truly did. He was more than a guardian and felt more like family than some of her own ‘real’ relatives. Whenever she thought about the day she would leave the house and the estate, and Robert, she had the worst feelings rise up inside her. It was akin to the distress she had felt upon the day she had lost her father, that sense of loss.

Sometimes she even entertained the idea of staying at Oakwood permanently, if his Lordship would allow it. Then, if Robert were to marry as she suspected he would do one day, she could maybe even work as a governess of sorts for his children. The idea while allowing her to imagine a life at Oakwood Hall, meant she would have to share Robert with another woman, a woman who would have greater, stronger claims on his affections and time. That was something Amelia wasn’t sure she would be able to bear with the grace and dignity she should, although why it should upset her so was a mystery to her mind.

“Now you must pardon me. I have need of a visit to the privy and then a short time alone. If you are up for it perhaps you would favor me with a game of picket later.”
"Of course, a game of picket is a lovely idea, my Lord, I will retire to the study and await your company..."
She stood and leant closer, resting her hand upon his shoulder and kissing his cheek chastely just as she did every morning and every evening, before leaving him in the dining room and heading into the study.

The fire had been lit and the small room was warm and cosy. Beyond the heavy velvet curtains she could hear the wind gaining strength outside, rain was beginning to hammer the windows and in spite of the cheery orange glow of the fire, Amelia felt a shiver glance over her spine.

Taking her usual seat beside the flames, her chair angled to face both the fireplace and the identical chair placed opposite it, Robert’s seat, she took up the book she had left there the previous evening and began to read. It was a romantic novel, one she had read many times before. Not especially challenging, quite fantastical in many ways but she loved it in spite of its failings compared to the other literature. It was a simple enough plot, a young, virtuous woman, dastardly villain, tortured hero.

Before long her eyes had drifted shut thanks to the warmth of the fire and the richness of their meal. The book lying open in her hand upon her lap while her mind placed her within the story, as it had done many times over the years. She was the young heroine, a dark figure backing her into a corner, his plans for her devious and definitely not the kind of things she would ever read about in Lord Robert’s library, of that she was sure. The hero would come and rescue her of course but who knew what the heroine would have to endure before he arrived…
Amelia didn’t know that while she dreamed of such risqué situations, her cheeks grew flushed and soft sighs left her slightly parted lips.

While the storm grew stronger outside, rain battering the windowpanes and wind howling across the lawns, Amelia slumbered in front of the fire, dreaming of things she could never, would never, share with Robert.

He had to fight the urge to turn and capture her lips as she kissed his cheek. He well knew the kiss was no more than that given to a father by a child. He had no illusions that his forbidden feelings might be in any way returned. He was a guardian, a replacement parent, no more, perhaps less. It was hard to know the feelings of anyone truly. Those of women, especially young women were completely vexing to him. He took his leave without further conversation as if the call of nature was urgent.

Always the careful man he made a stop at the privy on the oft chance she might be watching his movements. The small out building was of a variety that dwellers of certain London neighborhoods might have dubbed a place for fancy pants to squat. Of course they were the sort that dumped their chamber pots out windows into alleys and had never laid eyes on such buildings. The guest privy stood between the formal gardens and the main house. It had clearly been designed more for show than function. Such places were a way for the nobility to show their prominence and wealth to one another. It was just another bit of foolishness in Robert’s mind.

Once he had made his stop for appearance sake he headed for the formal garden and his favorite spot to sit alone and think. When he wanted solitude he generally went to a small bench located at the center of the ancient hedge maze. Though the twisted paths still managed to distort reality and cause guests to lose their way, Robert knew every twist and turn that was found in the paths between the gnarled boxwoods. He had begun playing there not long after he learned to walk. Though the governess was forced to rescue him on many occasions within a few years he had mapped the entirety of the two acre maze in his head. It was his sanctuary throughout his life. Even with only moon light to illuminate his way he easily found the bench.

As he sat there he tried to drive what he understood to be evil and wicked thoughts from his mind. But on that night he could not persuade the demons that tormented him to allow him to cast the thoughts out. He touched his cheek where her lips had been as he imagined kissing her. The kiss he imagined was not chaste or fatherly, but that of lovers. It was a kiss he really could only imagine as he had never had what one would call a true lover. The only women he had kissed were whores and fortune hunting women that thought the key to their happiness lay in lifting their skirts. Suddenly in his mind he saw Amelia naked. He too was naked and as happens in dreams they were mysteriously transported to his bed chamber.

“No!” He cried out into the silent night.

But it was to no avail. Though he was awake he was already too deep into his dream to cast out the images. He did not know how ladies made love with a gentleman. His carnal knowledge came from coupling with whores. So in his mind his delicate flower of a ward was doing those things whores do to please a customer. Almost without thinking he reached into his breeches and let loose his hard member. As he saw his ward riding him in his mind he fisted his needy cock. At the last moment he managed to turn so that his seed shot into the bushes where no one might find the evidence of his shameful act. Robert quickly put his penis back in his pants and headed toward the house.

But his exit was too late. Almost without warning the winds grew fierce and the skies opened up. Robert was trapped in a deluge. His immediate thought was that the wrath of God was being brought upon his head. He had allowed the devil’s own thoughts to take control of his heart and God was warning him of the consequences of such things. By the time he made his way out of the maze in the total darkness of the cloud filled sky he was soaked to his bones. As he trudged across the vast back lawn he was nearly blown off his feet several times. Finally, he made it to the rear entrance. Had it been earlier the servants would have been about and he would have been quickly provided dry clothing. But they had all been dismissed for the evening so he had to fend for himself.

Having already left Amelia waiting far too long, he chose not to change out of his wet things. He just discarded his soaked shoes and stockings in the kitchen before moving to the main part of the house. As he made his way from the kitchen to the study he forced himself to wear a normal expression. He would hide his shame from her and be the guardian she needed and deserved. He was an honorable man and would remain so no matter his desires.

When he entered the study he found her asleep by the fire. He moved closer being careful not to disturb her. He saw the gentle fall and rise of her breast, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. He wondered what such an innocent could find in her dreams to bring out such sighing. As he came to her side he ached to bend and kiss her sweet mouth. The book that lay open over her lap distracted him from his desire and likely saved him an embarrassing moment. He did not recognize the volume and the title did not seem one he might purchase. But that was not all that odd since there were throughout the manor hundreds if not thousands of books. His father and mother had both been avid readers before the tragedy.

He lifted the book from her lap and perused several pages. The story seemed on the bawdy side for a young lady. But its romanticism was definitely written with female readers in mind. He quickly decided that he would not make an issue of it with Amelia. He was not all that sure that his ideas on propriety for young ladies were entirely correct. He had no training in the subject and little direct knowledge of young women. As he stood there dripping on the imported silk and wool floor covering flipping through the book, Amelia’s eyes fluttered open.

Amelia Harding

The room was dark, the only light coming from candles dotted around the room.
Amelia was pressed up against the oddly warm wood of the wall, her hair unpinned, falling in wild auburn cascades down around her bared shoulders and down her back.
A shadowy figure moved somewhere in front of her, just watching her. The feeling of eyes upon her exposed skin sending nervous rippled dancing over her flesh.
She was holding the remnants of the white nightgown close to her, shielding most of her body from the eyes in the darkness. Her heart was racing, chest rising and falling sharply beneath the white cotton bundled in her arms.
Then she felt it.

A finger, trailing up her arm, glancing over her shoulder and up her neck .She shivered, her body trembling, The finger rose higher into her hairline before suddenly gathering a handful of her softly curling hair and pulling her sharply away from the wall. Lips crushing against hers, stealing her breath and muffling her cries while another strong hand tore the nightgown from her.
Leaving her exposed before this stranger…
She struggled to pull free but felt the smoothness of the panelling behind her back once more, the solid weight of a body in front of her, pushing her back, confining her.

She felt a knee pressing insistently between her legs, splitting them, spreading them.
She cried out but somehow knew no one would hear her.
As the hand continued to hold her hair tightly, the other hand moved, moving with painful slowness from her shoulder downwards towards her exposed breast. The fingertips were less than an inch from her breast’s peak when there was a crash in the background.

The door splintering under a charge and another entering the room. The hero had come to save the heroine.
The figure before her seemed to vanish and she found herself running into the hero’s arms. Finding safety and solace in his strong embrace.
He swept her up from her feet and carried her away…but not out of the room, only as far as the bed.
The hero laid her down, swiftly moving atop her, kissing her lovingly but strongly. His hands holding her hands, holding them down…she could feel the heat of his body, the heat of his need burning into her as she felt herself melting into him as he melted into her…

The dream faded as Amelia’s eyes fluttered open, she stretched slightly, arching her back to ease the mild discomfort throbbing there as a result of dozing in such a position. Her cheeks were warm and she knew the heat there was not solely from the merrily dancing fire beside her. Where the dreams came from she wasn’t sure. Such scenes were hinted at in her novel but never actually written about. Those kinds of stories she knew would never be found within Oakwood Hall.

Her green eyes lazily opened, taking in the familiar surroundings and then widened as they rose to take in the drenched form of Lord Robert.
“My Lord, I…I must have fallen asleep for a few moments whilst reading…” She began, her cheeks flushing brighter as she saw her book in his hands, his fingers turning the pages. Amelia felt a stab of embarrassment, despite knowing the story he was glancing through was innocent enough, it was still something of a shock to see it in his hands, knowing that he now knew what she read about in her solitude, hoping he would not think less of her for it.

She looked up at him, almost shyly, expecting a comment on her choice of literature but it did not seem to come. It was only then she truly realised how he looked. His clothes were sodden, hair wet and dripping down his face and neck, in the places where she could see it his white shirt was now almost clear and was sticking to his body like a second skin.
“Are you…are you alright, my Lord? Your clothes are…would you like me to summon someone to bring you a change of clothes…?” She asked, her concern about his discovery of her reading habits fading fast as concern for his well being took over.

Amelia rose, swiftly moving to the cabinet in the corner, opening the doors and selecting one of the antique crystal decanters within it. Her eye drifted to the ornate clock on the mantel piece above the fire, her eyebrow quirking as she noticed the hour, wondering what had detained him for so long but then quashing her unasked questions. He had informed her he needed time alone and it was not her place to question him over it. She poured a generous measure of the rich, amber coloured liquid into a solid square based crystal tumbler and carried it over to the soaking wet Lord stood before the fire.

“Here you go, this should help warm you, my Lord,” She smiled as he took the glass from her. “Please, sit down…you must have stepped outside just as the storm hit…” She continued, moving to take a folded shawl from the back of her own chair. She had left it there after one of their walks. She shook out the woollen wrap and as Robert took his seat she placed it carefully around his shoulders. “I hope you will indulge me this, my Lord,” Amelia smiled, “Only you’re shivering and I would hate to see you come down with sickness…” Her hands lingering upon his shoulders and rubbing them slightly for a moment or two.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my Lord?” She asked earnestly, moving around in front of him, hands clasped lightly behind her back, trying to think of what she would want herself in such a situation or what she would have tried to do for her father when he returned from a ride or a hunt drenched to the bone.

After looking at him for a moment, Amelia moved again; bending at the waist and leaning closer she withdrew a small white lace handkerchief from the bosom of her dress, and began gently wiping the small rivulets of water from Robert’s face. “Let me get you some nice hot tea, my Lord…or at the very least a fresh dry shirt…”

“Are you…are you alright, my Lord? Your clothes are…would you
like me to summon someone to bring you a change of clothes…?”

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“You need not fuss so over me. The servants are long asleep I am sure; no need to disturb them.”

He watched her move around room. Though he managed to hide his interest well, whenever they were together he watched her. He did not like that she was so agitated over his state. He felt she fretted far too much about trivial matters. He had been wet and cold many times and no harm had come of it.

“Here you go, this should help warm you, my Lord,” She smiled as he took the glass from her. “Please, sit down…you must have stepped
outside just as the storm hit…”

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He gladly took the glass of brandy she offered and quickly downed a full third of it in a single sip.

“I was walking and the storm came up very suddenly. I wanted to check on you, so I didn’t bother to change. I am afraid you will have to forgive me presenting myself barefooted,” He responded before taking a second long sip.

“I hope you will indulge me this, my Lord,”

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“Amelia, you know I would indulge you anything. But you need not worry so. I am fine. The fire is already drying out my clothing and warming my bones.”

Truth was he felt a little silly and far older than his years sitting with a woman’s shawl around his shoulders. But it made her happy to be helping him so he did not complain. He enjoyed her gentle touch as she massaged his shoulders. But it lasted far too short a time for him. He drank in her beauty as she stood in front of him seemingly contemplating some deep question. The look on her face portrayed the honesty of her concern. Robert however had no concerns in the world when she bent forward and retrieved a delicate handkerchief from her bosom.

As she mopped his brow he was eye level with her enticing breasts. The alabaster freckled mounds rose and fell with her breathing causing him to imagine the fabric of her bodice falling away. He wondered if her nipples were dark and prominent or light like her flesh. He longed to taste her eve as he tried to fight off the images that filled his head. To him such thoughts bordered on incestuous and were therefore a great sin.

“Let me get you some nice hot tea, my lord…or at the very least a fresh dry shirt…”

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“The brandy is sufficient to warm my insides, my dear. There is no need for you to go to the trouble of retrieving clothing. IF you will avert your eyes, I will just discard the shirt I am wearing and cover my self with this wrap,” He said indicating the woolen fabric draped over his shoulders.

Even though it was not entirely proper for him to be bare-chested in her presence something made him want to bare some of his flesh. Hr reasoned that since it was not unheard of for family members to be less modest with one another than was the norm that it would be ok as long as he covered up. Besides he harbored a secret hope that she might peek and see that he was in truth a viral man and not just her old guardian.

Amelia Harding

“The brandy is sufficient to warm my insides, my dear. There is no need for you to go to the trouble of retrieving clothing. If you will avert your eyes, I will just discard the shirt I am wearing and cover my self with this wrap,”
"Of course, my Lord," Amelia replied, finishing off her gentle dabbing with her handkerchief across his face and even straying onto his neck once or twice to catch the drips still falling from his hair, although as he had said, the fire was already beginning to dry him out.

Amelia stood and moved across the room, turning her back to where Lord Robert was sitting and bringing herself to face one of the many bookcases that lined the walls in the small study.

Her eyes trailed along the shelves, reading the titles and authors silently in her head, most of which she had already read during her time at Oakwood. She heard rustling behind her, telling her Lord Robert was beginning to disrobe and found her cheeks inexplicably reddening. She coughed lightly and made to begin reading the next shelve down when her eyes widened in surprise.

The bookcase she had stood infront of was one of many that had a glass door attached to it. The volumes inside were older and more valuable, hence the protection from dust and the light. However, thanks to the lack of light in the room, save the dancing fire, the glass door became a mirror and Amelia found herself looking at Robert in it's surface.

He was stood behind her, the woollen wrap upon the chair, his hands working to unbutton his shirt having apparently already removed his neck tie and jacket. Amelia knew she should look away, avert her eyes as had been requested of her but to her surprise she could not.

She had never been in the prescence of a man, or a woman for that matter, in any state other than fully dressed. Of course thanks to her childhood tutors and governesses she knew of the anatomical differences between the two sexes but the only body she had ever seen sans apparel was her own.

Amelia found herself biting her lip slightly as Robert's fingers reached the last of his buttons and he began to peel the sodden shirt from his skin.
His shoulders were broader than she realised, her eyes sweeping across their breadth several times without her bidding. Taking in every indentation across his collarbone before moving lower.

Robert's chest and stomach were smooth and, to her limited knowledge, looked healthy and strong. His arms too looked stronger than she would have imagined. Not that she imagined her guardian in such a way she quickly corrected in her mind.

She found her eye drawn constantly downwards, whether it was the natural narrowing of his torso into his waist or something else Amelia couldn't begin to explain was uncertain but nevertheless she found herself almost staring at his breeches for several long moments before she caught herself and closed her eyes.

Not that it helped.

In her imagination she could see nothing but the sight that had, for want of a better word, captivated her. She could see Robert's partially clad figure in her mind's eye and she felt an odd, unfamiliar sensation dance across the back of her neck and down her spine as she looked upon it. In her mind she wanted to move closer, see if his skin was the same as hers as it had appeared slightly darker, more golden, in the firelight but was that just an illusion...
She wanted to see, to feel, his arms, his hands, they looked so different without the screen of a shirt over them.

Suddenly Amelia was snapped out of her confusing musings by Robert's voice informing her she could turn around. Amelia took a deep breath, hoping the contents of her mind, her guilt at having willfully disobeyed him, would not show upon her brightened cheeks.

Amelia turned around to face him and moved back towards her seat. The shawl was now wrapped around his upper body, concealing the majority of it from view, although she found her eyes glancing over his bare arms, noticing as if for the first time how large and strong his hands appeared.
"I hope you are more comfortable now, my Lord?" She asked with a soft voice. "Would you still like to play a game of Picket or would you prefer another diversion for our evening?" Amelia hovered next to a low cabinet, within which were several decks of cards and various other games, chess, draughts and backgammon among others.

"Or if you would rather, I can read to you, my Lord?" Amelia offered with a smile. She had often been told her reading voice was more than pleasant and she enjoyed sharing her love of the written word with others. "I could read you some poetry if you would like...?"

He had no desire for a game. At least not the type game she meant. Nothing contained within the fine cabinet held any interest for him. He knew that the proper thing to do was excuse himself and retire for the evening. He had promised her a walk in the garden and his afternoon business would no doubt be trying. However, he was not yet done with the game he was already playing. As he let the woolen coverlet slip just a bit to reveal more flesh than was proper he contemplated the almost ridiculousness of the situation.

Had he been born of a lesser class, he imagined the idea of a female relative seeing him bare-chested would cause no scandal. The stable boys worked all but nude above the waist. What shirt they did wear once soaked in sweat served to hide nothing. As for servant families they lived in one or two room cottages at best. It seemed highly likely that a daughter seeing her father and brothers bare-chested or even fully nude on occasion was likely the norm. There was little hope of modesty and no reason for any to label such things improper.

Why then he thought should there be such stigma to a thing just because their station allowed for greater privacy. He wondered if he was in fact a gardener and Amelia a young woman who for whatever reason dwelt in his home, whether he might not have already feasted upon the sight of her bared breasts. He had oft envied the lesser classes their simpler lives for other reasons. This in a way seemed yet another thing to envy. If he and Amelia were poor common folk there would be no impropriety in his proposing they marry. He would be seen as magnanimous for making the gesture and providing a home for the poor unfortunate orphan. But as it was such a thing would make him seem a lecherous old man taking advantage of the poor unfortunate child.

“Truth is Amelia, I am not much in the mood for cards or the like. The hour grows late. Hearing you speak poetry in your sweet voice seems a grand idea. Though it may be a bit self indulgent and lazy of me to do so.”

Robert had spent his entire life having his needs tended by servants. However, he had never become accustom to sitting back and enjoying the comforts that wealth and position afforded. He often wondered if there had been some odd cosmic accident that had caused him to be born of the wrong family. He even contemplated the idea that his mother had strayed and lain with other than her husband. His being fathered by a man other than his lordship would explain much.

Most notable was the great difference in stature, personality and ability between him and his ill fated older brother. However, when one examined the question it seemed more likely that it was the older sibling that was not kin the manor. Robert was much more like his father than his brother had been. Though it pained Robert it was also clear that his mother loved the older boy far more than him. He thought it very possible that the awkward lad he so loved was the product of an illicit love between his mother and some lower class man she could not acknowledge.

That led to an even more troubling revelation. If the elder son was illegitimate might it have been the fates intervening that awful day to restore Robert as the rightful heir? That was a thought too horrible for him to bear. If it was so then Robert himself was responsible for the death of his brother. Though Robert loved the estate and was happy to have been able to remain there, he had never cared for or coveted the title. That he had received it at the cost of his dear brother’s life had always been a source of anguish and darkness to him. He forced a smile as he contemplated these things while watching Amelia select a volume of poetry.

“Truth is Amelia, I am not much in the mood for cards or the like. The hour grows late. Hearing you speak poetry in your sweet voice seems a grand idea. Though it may be a bit self indulgent and lazy of me to do so.”
“As you wish, my Lord…” Amelia replied softly, turning and moving back towards the bookshelves behind her. Running a fingertip along each shelf her keen eyes scanned the titles, looking for something different to read. They had already covered Shakespeare’s sonnets and most other well known poets during their afternoons and evenings in the study together.

Amelia was about to suggest they revisit one or two of their favourite sonnets when her eye caught sight of a book she felt sure she hadn’t seen before. Carefully withdrawing it from its place, nestled tightly between two thick volumes of ancient myths and legends, she turned it over in her hands. It had no title and no apparent author. Frowning slightly, she glanced at the first few pages without reading the words and saw the familiar layout of poetry.

“I think I have found something new for us to share, my Lord…” Amelia exclaimed, smiling sweetly as she retook her seat opposite Robert and flipped open the small leather bound volume at random and began to read,
“‘In summer’s heat…’ taken from the Ovid, translated by Christopher Marlowe…” Amelia paused to clear her throat before reading the first few lines of the poem on the page before her.

“In summer's heat and mid-time of the day,
To rest my limbs upon a bed I lay,
One window shut, the other open stood,
Which gave such light as twinkles in a wood
Like twilight glimpse at setting of the sun,
Or night being past and yet not day begun.
Such light to shamefaced maidens must be shown,
Where they may sport, and seem to be unknown…” Amelia blushed a little, realising the setting of the piece and recognising it’s tone as tending towards the amorous, throwing Robert a cautious glance but seeing him apparently lost in thought and his expression far from reproachful she continued.

“Then came Corinna in a long, loose gown,
Her white neck hid with tresses hanging down,
Resembling fair Semiramis going to bed,
Or Lais of a thousand wooers sped.
I snatched her gown, being thin the harm was small,
Yet strived she to be covered therewithal,
And, striving thus as one that would be chaste,
Betrayed herself, and yielded at the last.
Stark naked as she stood before mine eye,
Not one wen in her body could I spy…” Amelia paused, her cheeks a more prominent shade of pink and her chest beginning to rise and fall with more marked movements within the corseted dress. The words she had spoken were hardly scandalous but the scene in which she was in, with her guardian partially dressed before her, seemed to make them seem far far worse than they probably were. She glanced shyly up through her lashes towards the Lord in the chair opposite hers, almost hoping to see some sign that he disapproved of the poem and would bid her stop her recitation but there were no such signs upon his face and with a slightly breathy voice, Amelia continued with her reading.

“What arms and shoulders did I touch and see?
How apt her breasts were to be pressed by me?
How smooth a belly under her waist saw I?
How large a leg, and what a lusty thigh?
To leave the rest, all liked me passing well;
I clinged her naked body, down she fell.
Judge you the rest. Being tired, she bade me kiss.
Jove send me more such afternoons as this…” Amelia’s voice tailed off, her fingers closing the book quietly and leaving the two of them in silence, apparently lost in their thoughts. Many worrying images flashed through her mind as she tried to calm the warmth decorating her cheeks and think of something to say.

“Well…” She began after a few minutes, her gaze fixed upon her lap, too embarrassed to look towards her guardian unsure of how to continue. “That…that was certainly something new, my Lord…” She tentatively put the book upon the table next to her chair and pushed it away from her slightly.
“But I…I confess I find myself growing rapidly tired, my Lord, and think I may retire for the evening…” Amelia rose an approached his chair, bending down to perform the small act she undertook every evening before retiring to her chambers.

“Goodnight, my Lord,” She said softly as she pressed her lips to Robert’s cheek, her hand rising habitually to rest upon his shoulder and causing her to gasp as her palm touched his bare skin. It was warm, very warm to the touch, and smooth and touching it sent a bolt of…something…racing up her arm, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her cheeks to flush warmly once more.

Amelia drew back slightly and offered Robert an almost guilty smile. Whatever must he think of her? Reading such lascivious poetry and then touching his naked flesh, albeit accidentally, Amelia chastised herself inside. Deciding it would be better to leave her guardian in peace before causing any more embarrassing events, Amelia left the study and, after informing her maid that she would undress herself, she made her own way upstairs.

Amelia followed the corridor to her chambers and closed the door behind her. As she reached behind her back to begin to undo the laces of the dress that covered the tight fitting corset beneath, she crossed to the window, looking out into the black night. Hearing wind racing across the lawns and rain hammering insistently against the window panes. Not a pleasant evening to be outside.
She shivered as she slid the dress down over her body and stepped out of the yards of material pooling around her feet. She made quick work of removing the corset, sighing slightly as the pressure around her bust was relieved, leaving her in her slip. Amelia unpinned her hair, leaving it hanging around her shoulders and down her back before splashing some water over her face and then changing swiftly into her nightslip.

She blew out the candle beside her bed and lay in the darkness, listening to the weather outside as she pulled the warm, thick bedding a little closer around herself. Soon enough sleep began to call to her, enticing her into dreams where cloaked, shadowy figures flitted through her imagination and somewhere in amongst it all, she found herself alone with a man, his broad silhouette drawing closer to her own, his hands reaching to remove her clothing...ripping at her dress, his mouth devouring skin as it was revealed to his hungry eyes...

Had he not been so weary he might have thought to object to his ward reciting a poem with so erotic a theme. But he was still lost in thoughts of the past and his own wicked desires when she began. By the time the words of the poem pierced his subconscious musings she was already well into the tale. He wondered if such an innocent young woman could truly grasp the poet’s meaning. If she did not he certainly did not want his reaction to give cause to his needing to explain certain carnal activities.

Though he knew there would come a time when he would have to speak to her of the duties of a wife, sitting in the study half naked was certainly not the appropriate way to have that conversation. The maids and her governess before had of course taken care of the basic explanation regarding bodily function. But as she was far from marrying age when she lost her parents, Robert surmised that the details of the bedroom were likely unknown to her. There was no female head of the house. He would be remiss if he allowed her to go to her marriage bed unprepared. Someday soon he knew he would have to speak to her frankly about what her husband would expect. A subject he was not all that sure of himself having no experience with marriage.

When she paused after reading the line about the woman’s nakedness, Robert thought she was yielding to modesty and quitting the recitation. As he did not wish to embarrass her he gave no sign of approval or disapproval. When she began again to speak, he thought that he may have been mistaken in not voicing concern over the subject matter.

As she continued to read the increasingly bawdy work, Robert imagined that it was Amelia’s naked flesh being described instead of Corinna. He also imagined that it was his eyes viewing the lovely sight instead of some unknown man. In his mind he could see every nuance of his ward’s young supple unclothed body as if she was in fact standing before him naked ready to be taken as was the woman in the poem.

I clinged her naked body, down she fell.

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As his own experience with sex was far coarser than the romantic rhyme conveyed he wondered at how the poet could make carnal coupling seem so beautiful. To him the line should have been: I pounced upon her and took her treasures. But even in the twisted recesses of the darkest part of his mind he knew that wasn’t how it would be for Amelia. He wondered if she would even enjoy it as the whores seemed to or would she just endure the unpleasantness of her duty to her husband. If only society allowed him to teach her he could be certain that she would understand the pleasures that can be had he lamented silently.

“But I…I confess I find myself growing rapidly tired, my Lord, and think I may retire for the evening…”

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He just smiled as she approached not realizing that the blanket had slipped down exposing far too much of his flesh. When she kissed his cheek and touched his bare shoulder it was all he could do to contain his desire to pull her into his lap and live the poetic scene she had just read. His desire was such that he could not speak when she recoiled and smiled awkwardly revealing her embarrassment at having touched him in so intimate a fashion.

He managed a softly spoken, “Goodnight,” As she departed the room.

Robert sat for awhile contemplating the evening. He knew it would be unhealthy for him to continue to have such lascivious and wicked thoughts about his ward.

“Would not a father sooner be flogged than covet his daughter’s body?” He chastised himself.

A voice deep within his being reminded him, “She is not your daughter.”

He felt as if the devil himself was speaking to him and said aloud, “No demon, I will not do your bidding. She is as innocent as she is fair. I will do my duty to her and honor her father.”

However, the images of her naked body would not leave his head. He fought what he perceived to be a demon. It was clear to him that his growing obsession was dangerous and would surely lead to perdition. Though he imagined that one night with Amelia might well be worth an eternity in hell, he could not bring such a thing upon his innocent ward. He was certain that she would suffer the same fate as he was she to accede to his advances.

When the fire began to fade to glowing embers, Robert finally decided to drag his weary body to his bed chamber. As he stood he let the blanket fall into the chair. He headed toward the stairs barefooted and naked above the waist. He reasoned that due to the late hour no one would be about to see him parading through the halls in just his britches. On the way to his room he passed her room just as he had done a hundred nights before. But on that night he did something he had never done before. He stopped and moved close to the heavy oak door that separated him from the sleeping girl.

In an ill fated attempt to hear the sound of her breathing he pressed his ear to the door. As he listened to only silence he contemplated what she might wear to bed. He felt that her night attire must surely be more revealing than the mountains of fabric she wore in public. He himself slept totally naked which is why the household was under strict orders regarding entering his bed chamber. Though it was certainly not customary he had always found a nightshirt too restricting to allow a pleasant nights sleep. For a moment he imagined Amelia lying in her bed sleeping peacefully fully exposed. He touched the doorknob but fought off the notion to stealthy open her door and steal a glimpse.

Instead he hurriedly continued down the hall to his own room. Once he was behind closed doors he shed his britches and crawled into bed. Though very weary sleep did not come easily to the lord of the manor that night. He was wrestling with conflicting emotions and desires. He wanted Amelia as he had wanted nothing else in life. At the same time the guilt over his lust for his ward was tearing at the fabric of his soul. He determined that he would be forced to forgo his walk with Amelia. He wanted to get an early start so that he might visit with the abbot before his meeting with the Lord Mayor of York.

He knew that he could not confess his true thoughts and desires to the abbot. However, he hoped that he could find some way to appease God in speaking to the holy man. There was no way to cast out the demon that bade him to commit such heinous acts without the lord’s help. Yet the matter was delicate. To truly enlist the abbot’s help he would have to confess all. Such a confession would more likely cause him to be cast out of the church and destroy his reputation. That was not acceptable.

After an almost sleepless night, Robert rose early. He did not bother to take breakfast or wake the stable boy. He saddled his own mount and began his journey as the first rays of the sun pierced the horizon signaling the coming of a new day. He wondered whether the day would bring salvation or more damning thoughts. He mused that perhaps he would be lucky and be accosted by the dreaded highwayman. IF he fought the Shadow and lost he would embrace the sweet everlasting sleep of death. Even though death might send him to a predestined date with Satan at least it would end his earthly torture. Then he thought of his orphaned ward once again being abandoned by a father figure. He could not bear the thought of his escape causing yet more pain for Amelia. He knew that he would fight and defeat even the most powerful demon to save her even one moments sadness.

Amelia awoke after sleeping less than comfortably. Her dreams had worried her and almost caused her to wake up completely during the night. The image of Robert half dressed in the study had continuously filtered through her sleeping mind. His semi naked torso flitting through her dreams, almost tormenting her. She tried desperately to keep her dreams under her control but to no avail.

She dressed swiftly and modestly, not wanting to ruin one of her better dresses whilst walking in the gardens. Amelia headed down to the dining room and was more than a little surprised to find only her place set at the lengthy table. Her brow quirked as she sat down and was soon attended to by one of the serving staff.
“He left early, Miss Amelia,” the maid replied to her enquiry as to Lord Robert’s absence from the table. “Set off for York at first light, didn’t bother to wake no one but a stable boy heard him saddling up and reckoned he wouldn’t be back before nightfall most likely…” The maid continued, carefully pouring Amelia’s tea, her soft Yorkshire accent was warm and friendly.
Amelia nodded her thanks and sat in silence once the maid had left the room.

Amelia felt a genuine pang of regret that she would not get to enjoy her walk with Robert. It had been so long since they had shared such a diversion that she had been looking forward to it more than perhaps she usually did. She ate little, nibbling at some toast and jam that had been made the previous summer by the house’s cook. The red and blackcurrant preserve was delicious but Amelia found herself strangely without appetite. She finished her tea before heading to her sanctuary. The library.

She spent most of the morning reading some of her favourite volumes, glancing through some of her guardian’s imported texts to make sure her French wasn’t slipping. However, more often than not, she found her attention slipping and her gaze shifting to the window. Day dreaming for a few moments before catching herself and forcing her focus to return to whichever book lay open upon the table before her.

Amelia found herself wondering what Lord Robert was up to. Hoping he had made it to York in good time and that his appointment with the Mayor wouldn’t be too vexing. Closing up a world atlas that she had been skimming through she popped down to the kitchen and instructed the cook to prepare Lord Robert’s favourite meal for the evening, hoping that it would cheer him up should his meeting in York not have gone as well as she hoped, as well as warm him up after his long ride.

She also decided privately that she would make a little more out of dressing for dinner than she usually did. She would wear one of her ‘nicer’ dresses, an evening dress, and maybe even some of her mother’s jewellery. She couldn’t pinpoint what was motivating her to make such decisions but she hoped her choices would put a smile on her guardian’s face if nothing else. After all, she still felt she should atone somehow for her behaviour, comparing her noble guardian to a thief and then reading such risqué poetry…

Certain her plans for dinner would be followed, she wrapped her long cloak around her and ventured out into the garden. The air was cool and crisp thanks to the storm of the previous night, invigorating Amelia as she took in deep breaths of the clean air and bringing colour almost instantly to her cheeks. Smiling up at the sky, Amelia cast a glance back towards the imposing house before heading out into the woodland surrounding it.


"Stop! Stand and deliver...your money or you life...!" The voice rang out clearly in the air as the carriage ground to a halt. The horses whinnying and snorting at the hooded figure stood in their path, pointing a pistol at the driver. The carriage had been stopped on a woodland path, the sunlight was dappled by the heavy canopy of leaves above, leaving it and its inhabitants in an odd kind of half light.

Walking slowly around to the door, the figure opened the door and made a clear show of the gun to those sitting nervously inside.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, I intend on taking up only a little of your time...if you would be so good as to place all valuables into this bag...we can all be on our way soon enough..." The hooded figure's voice was almost conversational in tone as they held out a black satin bag to the occupants, the pistol held above it.
"You...you wouldn't dare to shoot...!" Blustered an older man, sitting in the corner of the carriage.
The hooded figure's smirk was lost within the shadows created by their hood.
The pistol fired out into the trees, startling a bird somewhere in the undergrowth, making the women gasp and the men grasp their wallets.

"Believe me I have no qualms about firing, Sir..." The hood figure said firmly, aiming the gun back inside the carriage. "Now...do I have to ask you again...?"
Their words had barely left their lips before the women travellers began dropping earrings and necklaces into the bag. The hooded figure knew that the pistol shot would draw help towards the carriage before too long, especially in daylight. They could not linger too long.

"Come, come, Sir, we haven't all day..." The hooded figure urged in what would have been a friendly tone had it not been for the weapon in their hand.
Grumbling something about 'the sheer audacity of it all' the rotund, heavily moustached gentleman in the corner dropped his pocket watch and wallet into the bag held under his face.
"Thank you ladies and gentlemen, I can assure you everything you donate will be given to those who can truly appreciate its value..." The outline of a broad smile could be seen within the shadowy confines of their hood.

The hooded figure whirled as the sound of steadily approaching hooves alerted them to the approach of another.
"It appears you won't have to wait long until your misfortune is discovered...ladies and gentlemen, I bid you Good-day!" Flashing another grin at the startled occupants, the hooded figure darted back from the carriage and swiftly mounted their horse. The darkly coloured animal reared for a moment before galloping into the woods, the bag of valuables and money held tightly in one hand, their laughter hanging on the wind.

The Shadow had struck again.


After her walk, Amelia had bathed. She had then dried her hair, taking her time to carefully pin the curls and ringlets up, decorating the dark hair with jewelled clips. Her maid had already laid out her chosen evening dress upon the bed, along with her stockings, undergarments and evening corset.

Once dressed she gave herself a look in the mirror. The dress was a deep forest green, that almost matched her eyes in shade, slightly lower cut than her day dresses were but such was the fashion. The material was slightly iridescent, the shade changing from dark green to black to and almost peacock green as it moved in the lamplight. Yes, she looked every part the young woman of society. Even if she didn't quite feel like it.

Amelia went downstairs to the study to await Lord Robert’s return. Cook had the dinner ready and was no doubt keeping it warm upon the range and preventing it with her usual talent from spoiling.
After a little while, there was the sound of movement out in the driveway and then in hall. Amelia felt her heart’s rate pick up a little. She heard the butler informing Lord Robert of the arrangements for dinner and that ‘Miss Amelia’ was waiting for him in the study. Her teeth caught on her lower lip, hoping Robert wouldn’t mind or think her ‘surprise’ inappropriate or childish and then sighing with unrealised relief as she heard his footsteps head off towards the stairs and his chambers, presumably to change.

Soon after, the footsteps grew louder, coming down the staircase and approaching the study door. Smiling brightly, she stood up, running her hands down her sides to smooth the forest green fabric before turning expectantly towards the doorway.

Robert’s meeting with the Abbot did not go well. He found the holy man far too dense about sexual matters to manage a philosophical discussion on the topic. Though the opening was there, his Lordship had no intension of revealing the reason for his interest in the propriety of a man courting a young woman. Instead he passed off his interest as being sparked by a piece of French literature. The abbot who had only managed to learn Latin and German along with his native English did not read much outside of church doctrine and liturgy. Robert knew it was very unlikely the man would discern the deception.

“My lord, though I am not a scholar of French fiction, I am aware that it contains much that one might say is bawdy or inappropriate. The thing to understand is that just because a thing is written does not give it weight,” Was the best advice the holy man had to offer.

Robert left wondering if the old fool would have had more to say had he known it was in truth the Lord of Oakwood Manor that lusted for his young ward. He decided that it was of no matter and that his inquiry had been a mistake. He would simply do as the abbot essentially suggested and ignore the thoughts.

Unfortunately, his meeting with the Abbot turned out to be the highlight of Robert’s day. The Lord Mayor of York and several of his counselors made it clear that they expected Robert as the largest land owner to personally see that the highways were rid of the highwayman known as the Shadow. TO make matters worse just as the group of pompous cowards sat down to lunch with Robert a messenger arrived bearing bad news.
“M’lords, please forgive the intrusion. I have urgent tidings from Sir Henry Bottomton.”

“Who is this Bottomton fellow?” The mayor demanded interrupting the winded rider.

“Giles, he is a wealthy London merchant, well known at both court and parliament,” Robert chimed in disgusted at the mayor’s lack of worldliness.

“So what is it Sir Henry wants, man?” The mayor asked clearly annoyed and embarrassed.

“I am to report that his carriage was attacked on the Great North Road near Oakwood. His life and that of his wife, daughter and sister was threatened.”

“Does he require assistance?”

“Nay, there was a small contingent of the king’s guard traveling nearby. They hurried to assist when gun fire alerted them to the situation. They are at this time escorting the carriage to London.”

“Gunfire? Was anyone harmed?” One of the council asked alarmed.

“No, it seems the dastardly rogue only fired his weapon to frighten Sir Henry and his party. However, there were threats of bodily harm and a great deal of valuable property and money taken.”

“Thank you for your report. Please go to the kitchen and enjoy a repast and some wine,” The mayor said in his best official tone.

Turning to Robert the Mayor said, “Your see how bad things are, Robert? You must do something.”

“Giles, I fear you do not grasp the full magnitude of the problem we now face. Within a fortnight all of London will be a buzz with the tales Sir Henry and his ladies will be telling at court. The king himself will be appalled and indeed personally insulted. Sir Henry’s sister is his majesty’s mistress. Even if the king were not personally disposed to avenge this slight against his lover, there will be demands from the citizenry to send royal guardsmen to the area to rout out the brigand. The cost of housing and feeding these soldiers would fall upon the treasuries of York and its neighbors. Even once this Shadow fellow was caught and hung it is likely that the district would be saddled with troops as well as the distain of the King for some time to come.”

“Then Robert you make the argument for me. We can provide you with a small contingent of men and I am sure that the good citizens of York and the environs will happily pony up a proper reward.”

“Thus far the men of York have been worthless in the pursuit of this thief. I see no reason to have them along to hinder my efforts. He is but one man. He prays on the weak and I am not weak. As for your reward, I pray you do not burden the citizenry for additional taxes. It seems from the style in which you live they pay far too much as it is. However, I will take for my reward something you can give from your personal estate. There is a small tenant farm that adjoins my lands to the south near Haverford Run. I have recently been made aware that you hold title to the property. Once I have disposed of the Shadow, I shall expect that you will deliver the deed to my hand.”

Though shocked at Robert’s insinuations and disrespectful tone as well as the demand for the land, the mayor said nothing. He had little choice but to exceed to the terms. The King’s wrath might well bring him down while quartering the soldiers bankrupted the city treasury. Robert had been planning to attempt to purchase the farm and present it as a gift to the tenants that were being treated more like slaves than sharecroppers by the mayor. It was serendipitous that an occasion to obtain the land without an exchange of gold occurred.

“Though your terms seem harsh Robert, I agree. This criminal must be stopped and you are surely our best hope. Now let us turn to more present matters. Since afternoon is nigh and the sun shall soon be falling below the horizon please accept my hospitality for the night.”

“That is most gracious of you, Lord Mayor. However, I must decline. Since this latest attack was so near my home I fear it would be unwise to leave my young ward alone. There is no telling what this scoundrel might do were he to find a beautiful young lady alone.”

The truth was Robert just wanted to return home to be with Amelia. Though he had vowed to himself to continue to fight his attraction to her that did not mean he could not enjoy her company. He did not really think that a highwayman would dare assault his home.

“That is unfortunate, but of course you are right. These are dangerous times and we must not leave our women unprotected. That does however beg a question. It seems your ward should be nearly marrying age. When shall we expect you to hold a ball to present her to eligible gentlemen? As I recall she is a lovely girl, I am sure she would easily attract a proper husband. There isn’t some reason that you would be delaying her seeking suitors by chance?”

The mayor’s implication was clear. Robert would have been outraged was the remark not so close to fact.

“Giles, such matters are difficult for Amelia and me. She still suffers the trauma of having lost her parents and leaving her childhood home at an early age. I try my best to be both father and mother to the girl. But I have no experience with children so it is trying and of course much of the time I must deal with business matters. It is in her interest that any talk of nuptials is delayed. Speaking of nuptials I am sorry I will not be seeing your lovely wife on this visit. How is your bride?”

Robert hoped to deflect the mayor’s curiosities by changing the topic.

“She is as dutiful as ever. I am sure she will be disappointed to have missed the chance to entertain this evening. But I imagine to my benefit she will make up for it by tending the bed chamber fires this night. You bachelors miss so much in life. No whore can compare with the pleasures of a wife.”

“So I am told, Lord Mayor. Now I will wish you good morrow and make haste on my return home.”

It never failed to amaze Robert how quit married men were to paint their wives as their personal whores. He wondered if the mayor was really as stupid as he appeared or simply did not care how many other men his wife bedded. He thought it very likely that the couple no longer shared a bed let alone stoking marital fires. He put the matter out of his mind and quickly took his leave of the mayor’s home and York. He was quite happy not to have to worry about fending off the old cow’s amorous advances.

Robert pushed his horse hard in an effort to get home to Amelia before the sun fully set. Though he made the trip in record time it was already fully dark when he dismounted and turned his horse over to a stable boy. Having been told that supper was being held for his arrival he hurriedly bathed and dressed.

As he approached the study he gripped the small package containing the present he had purchased in York between his meetings. Inside the wrappings was an exquisitely carved mahogany Italian music box. The shop keeper claimed that it was owned by a countess and had been smuggled out of Rome by a disgruntled lover. Robert didn’t care if the romantic story were true or not. He just thought it would please Amelia and that the unknown Italian tune was enchanting.

He had to stop and take a breath to calm himself before entering the study. He was excited as if he was a young suitor come to court Amelia. As he stepped into the room and took in her loveliness he admonished himself to behave and forget his improper lustful thoughts.

“Amelia, your face is a most welcome sight after a long day with boorish old men,” He said holding forth the package. “I saw this in a shop in York and it practically begged to be owned by you.”

“Amelia, your face is a most welcome sight after a long day with boorish old men,”
“You flatter me, my Lord, but I am sorry to hear your day was less than pleasant…” Amelia replied softly, after curtseying to her guardian as propriety dictated.
Her green eyes widening as she noticed the wrapped parcel in his outstretched hands.
“I saw this in a shop in York and it practically begged to be owned by you.”
“But, sir, you already do so much for me…you don’t have to…” Amelia began bashfully before he pressed the gift into her hands. “Thank you, my Lord…” She smiled before moving to take her seat beside the fire and begin unwrapping the present.

As the papers fell away to reveal the small, ornate box within, Amelia felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment.
“Oh, my Lord, it’s…it’s beautiful…” She turned the box over in her hands reverently, the light of the fire dancing over the lightly polished wood, showing it’s warmth and depth.

Her fingers tracing the delicate scrollwork and carvings carefully etched into the rich, smooth wood. She found the catch and carefully lifted the lid. A sweet sound filled the air, the tune not one she recognised but beautiful all the same. Light and melodic, Amelia closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the music coming from inside the box, swaying ever so slightly in her seat.

As her smile grew wider she gently set the open music box down upon the table beside her chair and stood, turning her happy gaze towards Robert.
“Will you…may I have the honour of sharing a dance with you, my Lord?” Her tone was bordering on the playful, knowing it was almost too much to have a lady ask for a dance, but there was a genuine desire in her voice. She wanted to show how much the music box meant to her. A way that would not embarrass either of them by forcing her to put her indescribable feelings of gratitude for him into words, something Amelia was certain she could not do.
Lord Robert paused, hesitating over something, but Amelia persisted softly.
“I know that cook probably has dinner all but ready but…a few more minutes can’t hurt…please, my Lord, please dance with me…”

After another pause in which Amelia’s heart began to fall, she felt Robert’s hand take hers and they began to dance.
Their movement simple and plain, a basic waltz and nothing more, her hand on his shoulder, his arm around behind her back and hand somewhere between her shoulder blade and waist but she wasn’t really aware of where. She really didn’t care.
There, in the study, dancing to the music of a music box, Amelia felt more at home and more at peace than she had done in many months.

She found herself leaning closer and closer, eventually resting her head against his chest, her eyes suddenly growing bright with tears. Tears of happiness, tears of sorrow and something that felt almost like guilt that she should feel so much joy when she had lost so much.

As the music faded to its conclusion and Amelia stepped back and away from the warmth and comfort of Robert’s embrace she looked up at him with tear bright eyes.
“Forgive me, my Lord. I do not know why I am crying…but please know it is not for want of anything you have done. You have made me happier than I ever thought I would be and, well, thank you…” She smiled earnestly, quickly moving forward to kiss his cheek and take his arm.
“Come, my dear Lord, let us dine…”

“But, sir, you already do so much for me…you don’t have to…” Amelia began bashfully before he pressed the gift into her hands. “Thank you, my Lord…”

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Her smile would have made the gift worth ten times its price to Robert. He watched as she sat and unwrapped the exquisite box. Her happiness upon seeing the box stoked his desires. He thought how easy it would be to simply gather her in his arms and carry her to bed. Surely her happiness and gratitude could be easily transformed to passion. He forced those thoughts from his mind. He could only allow secret desires that had no real possibilities to dwell in his mind.

“Will you…may I have the honour of sharing a dance with you, my Lord?”

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Even had he tried to speak he would not have been able to have made a sound above a whisper. His throat suddenly felt so dry that he thought it might close altogether. He would like nothing in the world better than to take her in his arms, even in the chaste manner of a dance. In truth there was nothing wrong with a man dancing with his ward. But there was such desire in her voice that he felt the dance may mean something more to her as it surely would to him. Besides they were not at a ball in public where such a thing might be expected. If cook or a maid were to interrupt an innocent thing might seem not so innocent.

“I know that cook probably has dinner all but ready but…a few more minutes can’t hurt…please, my Lord, please dance with me…”

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Though he still hesitated in the end he could not resist her innocent pleading and his own desire. He took her in his arms the way he might any woman he was not intimate with. They began a proper dance but soon her scent filled his nostrils and he did not feel proper at all. He had to fight his own arm to keep from moving his hand from her back to her buttocks. Had she not moved her head to his chest he might well have lost his resolved and moved to kiss her. He was certain were they found in such close contact while dancing it would be seen as inappropriate at best. She was not kin to him; only an innocent that a man such as himself might be assumed to easily have beguiled. Her tears came as a surprise to him as their dance ended.

“Forgive me, my Lord. I do not know why I am crying…but please know it is not for want of anything you have done. You have made me happier than I ever thought I would be and, well, thank you…” She smiled earnestly, quickly moving forward to kiss his cheek and take his arm. “Come, my dear Lord, let us dine…”

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The warmth of the kiss upon his cheek made him remember both that he was only a parent figure to her and that he desired her as a lover.

“Why must God torture me so?” He lamented in his mind as he escorted her to the dining room.

“I enjoyed our dance. I am sorry it brought sadness to you,” He said as they began eating. “I think I have missed much remaining a bachelor for so long. I might never have known the pleasure of dancing with a young lady for the shear joy of it. When one dances at a ball there are rules that to my mind somewhat inhibit the fun. Having not taken a young wife and now having no daughters it is something I might not ever have known. Thank you, my sweet Amelia. Now tell me how can I take away your sadness?”

Amelia took her seat, carefully unfolding and laying the napkin across her lap to protect the silk from any crumbs, after using a corner to dab the remnants of her tears from her cheeks.
“I enjoyed our dance. I am sorry it brought sadness to you,”
"It was not the dance, my Lord, please believe me...it was...in truth, I do not know truly what it was but I can say with absolute certainty that your care of me has been nothing less than wonderful and you could never bring sadness to me..." Amelia insisted gently, lifting a small portion of food to her mouth and chewing it politely as she listened to him continue.

“I think I have missed much remaining a bachelor for so long..."
Amelia felt a pang of worry, that he would continue on to say he was going to look for a companion, a wife, one who well might object to sharing their house and husband with another...that she herself might be married off before long...that she might have to leave Oakwood Hall...leave Lord Robert...
She lower her hands to her lap, to hide their sudden trembling from his eyes. To her ultimate relief, he continued,
"...I might never have known the pleasure of dancing with a young lady for the shear joy of it. When one dances at a ball there are rules that to my mind somewhat inhibit the fun. Having not taken a young wife and now having no daughters it is something I might not ever have known. Thank you, my sweet Amelia."

"You are most welcome, my Lord..." Amelia blushed lightly, lowering her eyes and sipping her wine.
"Now tell me how can I take away your sadness?”
Amelia carefully put her wine glass back upon the table and thought for a moment.
"I don't know, my Lord...I already feel so much happier to have you home with me, that is...the house feels more like home when you are here, my Lord...I, well, I missed your company..." Amelia finished rather ineloquently, her babbled words embarassing her, making her sound like a far younger girl than her years.

"I suppose there is one thing, my Lord..." Amelia began tentatively. "I have been thinking for a little while and now that you have voiced similar thoughts to my own...could we host a ball, my Lord?" She smiled hopefully. "In a month's time say? It would be a lovely diversion from the coming of winter and would give us both a chance to, well, meet people..." Her voice grew a little quieter, not sure if she wanted to continue with her half voiced idea.

"I know you have been lonely, my Lord, and I hardly think my presence in your home has changed that really. Although perhaps I do distract you from your work more than would normally occur..." Amelia couldn't help but let her smile return to her lips. "I am sure you would not have to look too hard to find many suitable Ladies more than willing to share your life and comfort you, far better than I can, and...well...I don't like to see you alone, my Lord...it is probably not my place, but please forgive me if I speak out of turn, but...you are a good man, the best of men, it makes me so very sad to think of you here alone. For I am sure you will one day tire of me and my readings and games," She joked although she lowered her eyes to conceal the genuine concern within them that one day her words would come true.

"Although whoever will marry me I haven't the faintest idea..." Amelia sighed, slightly dramatically. "The Ladies I have occassional afternoon luncheon with are always quick to tell me that I talk and think far too much for a young lady..." Amelia rolled her eyes slightly. "I am 'too wild' they tell me...I suppose I shall have to learn the meeker aspects of my position..." She mused, almost to herself more than anything, sipping the last of her wine as she did so. Lowering her glass and feeling an unaccustomed warmth upon her cheeks. Rarely did she finish her wine during their meal, and certainly never during the first course.

"At least if we have a ball, my Lord, you might be able to fool some young man into thinking I would be a suitable wife..." Amelia added teasingly.
"What do you think, my Lord? Could we host a ball...if nothing else it will give your butler good reason to air out your best suit and give me an excuse to buy a new dress, it is too long since I was measured and I am certain I have grown..." Amelia stopped herself, realising she was babbling as if her request had already been granted. Blushing, she smiled shyly. "As you see, my Lord, perhaps the Ladies are right, I do talk a little too much...!"

Robert listened to his ward’s sweet voice intently. It didn’t much matter to him what words she spoke. The time he spent with her had become increasingly precious. He knew that soon enough he would lose her to a suitor. The Lord Mayor was quite correct when he spoke of it being time to find her a husband even if the suggestion had been veiled in foul innuendo. It seemed a fortunate coincidence that Amelia herself was now asking for a ball to be held. Though he did not want to lose her he reasoned that getting her married sooner rather than later might be best considering his persistent and growing desires.

"As you see, my Lord, perhaps the Ladies are right, I do
talk a little too much...!"

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“Amelia, if you wish us to have a ball than I happily agree. However, I will not tolerate the notion of it being a way for me to hook a wife. I have no desire to entertain a gaggle of old maids and widows who seek a husband as security or a source of inheritance for their brood.”

Robert spent enough of his life fending off the advances of woman whose cunts he was quite sure were long dead. Worse still was their lack of personality. At least a cold marital bed could be dealt with in the whore houses. But if the woman was not even suited for companionship what then would be the reason to marry? To him there were three valid reasons to take a wife. Companionship followed by sexual pleasure were the lesser of the three. Most important was the siring of an heir. If he were ever to take a wife she would have to still be young enough to bear children.

“As to those ladies you lunch with, they would be well advised to learn that not all men wish empty headed vassals to grace their arms in public and warm their beds. I find the sound of your voice most agreeable and thinking and talking intelligently are admirable traits.”

Though he was instantly sorry that he had brought the subject of sex into the conversation he was sincere in his words. He was also convinced that he was not alone in his thinking. There was no way he would send Amelia off to live life concealing her intelligence and thoughts while subjugating herself to a man who considered her little more than his personal whore and brooder. If he was to lose her it would be to a man that would treat her properly or he would see her be an old maid.

“Now I must tell you that all of the preparations for the ball will likely come under your supervision. I have been tasked with ridding the countryside of the scourge that recently plagues the highway. This devil known popularly as the shadow must be stopped. This very day not far from my own land close associates of the King were accosted and their lives threatened by this brigand. So I will likely be on patrol and responding to reports of his reprehensible actions much of the time.”

The thought of being away from her saddened him. But there was no choice in the matter. Even had he not been given the commission by the Mayor of York, it was truly in his best interests to rid the area of the threat. Coming under disfavor with the King was not wise.

“But let us speak of more pleasant matters. Your new dress should be made to show off your budding womanhood. Though I confess this is far from my area of expertise, it seems to me that when one is fishing they should use their very best bait. I have no doubt that you will have your pick of more young suitors than you can imagine,” He said concealing his sadness over those thoughts. “Oh I am sorry; I have been rude, babbling on while your glass is empty.”

He stood and lifted the bottle from its resting place near his own glass. Without asking her desires he walked to her side and refilled her empty glass. He impulsively stroked her hair for a moment before returning to his seat and filling his own glass.

“To finding you the perfect husband,” He said as he raised his glass in her direction while hiding the pain in his heart.

“Amelia, if you wish us to have a ball than I happily agree."
Amelia almost beamed with happiness that her suggestion had not fallen on unwilling ears.
"However, I will not tolerate the notion of it being a way for me to hook a wife. I have no desire to entertain a gaggle of old maids and widows who seek a husband as security or a source of inheritance for their brood.”
"Of course not, my Lord, I hadn't meant to imply..." Amelia began emphatically before remembering her place. She lowered her eyes slightly before continuing quietly. "My only wish is for you to be happy, my Lord, please believe I meant no offence..."

“As to those ladies you lunch with, they would be well advised to learn that not all men wish empty headed vassals to grace their arms in public and warm their beds. I find the sound of your voice most agreeable and thinking and talking intelligently are admirable traits.”
Amelia blushed, although whether it was at the sincerity of his compliments or his comment about the 'private' role of a wife she was uncertain. It filled her with unquantifiable joy, and hope, to know he thought of her in such a way, found her talkative nature pleasing rather than irritating. If Robert could think of her in such a way, perhaps another might one day too, another who might even marry her. Amelia felt her blush deepen for a moment as for a wild instant she considered whether Robert would consider marrying a girl like her...she likened the thought to have come from her wine rather than anything else and focused her attentions back on Robert and away from her mind's idle musing.

“Now I must tell you that all of the preparations for the ball will likely come under your supervision. I have been tasked with ridding the countryside of the scourge that recently plagues the highway. This devil known popularly as the shadow must be stopped. This very day not far from my own land close associates of the King were accosted and their lives threatened by this brigand. So I will likely be on patrol and responding to reports of his reprehensible actions much of the time.”
"Oh no..." Amelia restricted her comment about 'The Shadow' to a simple exclamation, not wishing for a repeat of the previous evening's outburst when she had made her opinion clear. She concealed a yawn that took her unawares as she listened to him continue.

“But let us speak of more pleasant matters. Your new dress should be made to show off your budding womanhood. Though I confess this is far from my area of expertise, it seems to me that when one is fishing they should use their very best bait. I have no doubt that you will have your pick of more young suitors than you can imagine...Oh I am sorry; I have been rude, babbling on while your glass is empty.”
Amelia was too busy fighting the growing flush upon her cheek and the brightness in her eyes as she considered Lord Robert's words to realise he was approaching with the wine. It seemed odd to think of herself as bait, then again it seemed odd to think of herself as the object of a man's fancy but she supposed it might be possible. After all, she knew she had developed a womanly figure of late, more womanly than perhaps she would have liked but still... She was fair enough in her opinion, her hair needed little attention from the brush and, having had no one to instruct her, her complexion was as it was, untainted by cosmetics and powders.

Amelia's mind was pulled from it's wonderings as she heard the sound of wine being poured and felt for a moment the touch of fingers in her hair. She turned her gaze upwards, seeing Lord Robert stood beside her, his eyes almost looking through her, beyond her, seeing something she could not. His fingers ran idly through her hair, sending an unexpected shiver down her back before he returned to his seat and raised his glass.
“To finding you the perfect husband,”
"The perfect husband..." Amelia echoed, raising her own glass before sipping a little of its contents.

"I will make sure I speak with cook in the morning to discuss menus for the ball and that will give her ample time to contact the butchers and so on. I will make a start on a guest list and of course consult you before things are finalised, I would hate to leave anyone off...or of course invite someone you would rather not spend and evening with! The wine merchant I believe is due next week but I think I should leave that side of things to yourself, my Lord..." Amelia smiled, taking another sip of wine.

"Will a month's time be agreeable do you think? I don't think it should take place any later, if I am honest, do you...do you think this business of yours," She refrained from actually speaking of the highwayman directly, hoping not to anger her guardian again, "...do you think it will be finished in a month? I would hope that it would be finished sooner...if for nothing else than for my own selfish wish to spend more time with you..." She finished, almost shyly, a soft smile curving her lips as she raised the wineglass to her lips and sipped again, feeling its unfamiliar warmth slowly spreading through her. Her eyelids felt oddly heavy and for a moment or two she almost felt like falling asleep where she sat.

"I will ask my maid to measure me and then I can journey to York sometime soon to look for fabric for a dress...although I may have to ask for advice from a seamstress as to the latest fashions...wouldn't want...wouldn't want to be seen to be 'behind the...'....'the times'..." Amelia yawned carefully behind her hand, her voice was getting slower and huskier, her eyelids drooping in spite of her efforts to stay awake.

Her eyes moved to the clock on the mantelpiece and only then did she realise how late it had become, her eyes moved back to Lord Robert who appeared to be listening to her although his eyes were focused upon the fire burning merrily in the hearth. The fire cast the room in a hue that seemed to emphasise it's warmth. The wine, the good food, the warmth, all combining to almost overwhelm her. She opened her mouth to continue but found her eyes had drooped lower still. Without her bidding her hand holding her wineglass was all but resting upon the tabletop, her head leaning back against the high backed dining chair, breathing slowing and deepening. Without her bidding or realisation, Amelia had fallen asleep.

After returning to his seat Robert all but stopped listening to Amelia’s words. He had too many things on his mind to concentrate on her excited thoughts about the party. There was of course the task at hand which he knew he should get to immediately. But even more consuming was his growing desires toward Amelia. Though he fought hard to deny his feelings, in truth he wondered why his desires were so wrong. Would it not be a service for her future husband for him to teach her? What would be the harm? He was not in reality her father or in anyway related. For his own part if her were to marry he would prefer a wife that knew the pleasures of the bedroom over a cold virgin that only lay still for her husband to fuck.

A direct question brought him back to the table and their conversation.

"Will a month's time be agreeable do you think? I don't think it should take place any later, if I am honest, do you...do you think this business of yours,...do you think it will be finished in a month? I would hope that it would be finished sooner...if for nothing else than for my own selfish wish to spend more time with you..."

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“I should hope it will be finished well and done in short order. However, until I actually deliver the miscreant to The Lord Mayor and his gallows I can’t say anything for sure. However, you need not worry; I will be here for your ball, my dear. That I would not miss. I do regret that I shall miss spending some time with you. I fear now that it will be made plain that you are available for suitors that our time together will be short,” He replied earnestly perhaps letting more of his heart show than he should.

Once again he became lost in his thoughts. An observer would have thought him mesmerized by the flickering dancing flames of the roaring hearth fire. But it was what his mind saw in those flames that had his attentions. At first there was a great chase. Robert was astride his best stallion flying through a wood chasing a shadowy cloaked figure upon a much smaller mount. He easily overtook the fleeing thief. As he subdued the criminal something was wrong. However, Robert could not discern what had him so vexed in the vision. Nor did he dwell on it long.

The rogue vanished along with the surrounding wood. Robert saw himself in the upper hall of the manor. He came to Amelia’s door as he had the previous night. Only in this vision he did not resist his urges. He entered the room. The beautiful young woman lay naked on the bed with arms outstretched welcoming him. She was no longer his ward. But what was she? This vision too posed a riddle; one with two possibilities. Was she his wife or his whore?

Amelia’s glass falling on the table alerted him to his companion’s falling asleep. As the red liquid leaked from the tipped glass and formed a circle on the linen table cloth, Robert was awash in mixed emotions. Her gentle murmurs in time to the rising of her breasts seemed to indicate that she was as sound asleep as if she had lain in bed for several hours. He wondered how it was possible for her to have fallen in such a deep sleep so quickly. Then he remembered the late hour and that she had consumed more wine than was her custom.

He stood thinking to summon a maid or even the cook to help her to bed. Before he could give voice to call for help he recalled that he had already dismissed the staff for the evening. Knowing he was alone with his sleeping ward brought darker thoughts to the fore. It would fall upon him alone to take her to bed. He of course could simply carry her up and lay her as dressed upon the coverlet. But that would be almost cowardly. He should at least have the courage to loosen her garments to make her more comfortable. That was proper she needed that from him.

He lifted her into his arms and found her to be as soundly asleep as he thought. She barely stirred as he positioned her in his arms. He looked down upon her as he carried her up the grand stairway. Her face was angelic. However, it was other attributes that most interested him. The way he was carrying her the bodice of the dress revealed the cleavage of her very womanly breasts. He imagined opening the front of her garments and exposing the creamy orbs. He wondered if she would awaken were he to suckle her. He felt the warmth of her lithe, motionless body as they reached her bedroom door.

As he laid her upon the bed a voice in his head was screaming for him to run and leave her be. But he could not; desire was overpowering propriety. He carefully removed her slipper-like shoes. Impulsively he raised her leg and gently kissed her stocking clad foot. Shame and excitement mixed as he lifted her skirts and petticoats. Except for the stockings her lower body was bare to his eyes. Her pale thighs practically begged him to come closer. He hungered for a taste of her treasures as he had not hungered before. But he dare not be so brazen as to actually lay his lips to her cunt.

Propriety won out for a moment and he let fall her skirts. He stood motionless for a second marveling at the ease of access the design of woman’s clothing provided men. All it took was to lift several layers of lose hanging fabric to expose the target. Conversely, it took a bit of doing to release the cock since codpieces had fallen out of favor. Continuing with the thought of making her more comfortable he moved to the side of the bed. He found the laces of her bodice were easily loosened. The front of her outer dress fell open; however her breasts were still covered and held prisoner by more layers of fabric.

He could not stop; he had to have a glimpse of her hidden breasts. He bent to examine the next layer of fabric. Though it was not easily discoverable he was certain there must be some manner of catch holding it closed. He found an almost hidden eyelet that led him to discover a piece of ribbon tucked behind the fabric. He risked her waking when his finger touched bare flesh as he retrieved the concealed ties. There was still one more layer however. This one more vexing than the last. It was the top of her shift which was held in place by straps running over her shoulders. He hesitated thinking surely she would wake if he attempted to lower the straps and expose her breasts.

Again desire won out, this time over common sense. He managed to lower one side of the shift exposing most of her near perfect left breast. Just as he was about to fondle her nipple she sighed and rolled a bit to her side. To him it was sign that he had gone far enough. He was past any place that could be explained. Robert quickly retreated leaving her sleeping soundly.

When he got to his room he masturbated while recalling visions of what he had seen. He jerked his manhood so hard that pain and pleasure mixed. When he was done he sobbed and wondered what punishment God would lay upon him for such reprehensible acts. The thought of punishment led to thoughts of pursuing the Shadow. He supposed that his punishment may lie in that activity. Though there were no reports of any actual violence being done or harm inflicted the criminal carried weapons. If he were challenged it would only be natural for one to expect he use them to affect an escape.

Robert reasoned that he would need to use trickery to safely apprehend the rogue. He decided to have a fine carriage outfitted as if it was carrying important personages and their valuables. Even with the threat of highwaymen about few nobles travel with guards beyond the carriage men so there could be no outriders. Robert planned to secret himself in a concealed compartment and have servants dress as a nobleman and his lady. Robert would be heavily armed and spring forth once the bait was taken and the bandit was unawares of the danger.

He crawled under the covers and fought his quilt until exhaustion finally overtook him.

The dream that tormented Amelia was strange to say the least.

She was in a room, a dark room, one within in which she could see nothing…as she fought to see where she was she realised her eyes were covered, her location a mystery. Then she felt it, hands…hands moving across her vulnerable body. She was not bound, of that she was sure, but she felt powerless to stop the exploration of her flesh. The hands were curious, almost loving, but unwanted…at least, she believed them to be so, although their touch awakened feelings and desires within herself that she could not name…their path took them all over her body, delving beneath her clothes with a familiarity that was tempered with caution…

Amelia awoke with something of a start, remembering she had been at dinner with Robert when last she knew. Her eyes flickering open and filling her with confusion as she found herself surrounded not by the dining room but by her own chambers. Rubbing her head slightly to alleviate the unaccustomed pounding behind her temples, Amelia sat up, eyes widening in confusion to see her dress in disarray and a breast almost entirely revealed. She frowned, how she had come to be upon her bed was a mystery, had she managed to bring herself upstairs whilst half dreaming and also attempted to undress herself in the process…?

Amelia adjusted her slip and other undergarments to regain her modesty and moved to stand. Her head felt a little woozy and she attributed it to the wine, making a mental decision to refuse a second glass in future. But light headedness would have to be tolerated, Amelia had something she had to do.
As quietly as she could, she moved to the door and opened it ever so slightly. Casting a watchful glance down the corridor, in both directions, she slipped out of her chambers, heading purposefully down stairs.

Soon enough she was back inside her chambers with her evening cloak in her hands. She carefully laid the heavy cloak out on her bed and reached between the lining and the outer material and withdrew a black silken bag, heavy and clinking slightly as she set it down on the bedside cabinet. Reaching back into the folds of the cloak she pulled out a black shirt, a pair of black breeches and a black mask. Folding the clothes carefully she stowed them behind a loose panel in her wardrobe, along with the silk bag.

She undressed, sighing to remove the tight black corset beneath her evening dress, unpinning her hair she glanced at her reflection in the looking glass.
'The Shadow' had had an eventful day and now, all she wanted to do was fall into her bed. A large part of her hated having to lie to Robert, keeping secrets from him had never felt right with her and a secret as big as this made her heart ache. Especially after seeing the concern in his eyes when he'd spoken earlier, worried for her safety above all else.

Amelia knew that one day soon 'The Shadow' would have to fade into the night time and never return, if nothing else, the time would come when someone would catch her. She had heard bullets fired in her direction during several of her ‘missions’ as she liked to call them, had those aiming at her been slightly truer she would have been injured and even her creative imagination would not have been able to create a story to explain a wound of that sort to Robert. Worse still, if Robert were to now be the one to apprehend her…with the duty now resting squarely upon his shoulders courtesy of the Mayor, it would only be a matter of time before Robert’s path crossed that of ‘The Shadow’. Amelia shuddered at the thought as she slipped her night slip over her head, the smooth fabric sliding effortlessly down over her body’s curves to almost reach the floor.

Amelia had never intended things to go on for as long as they had, but the response the people had shown to 'The Shadow' had spurred her on. She had seen on an almost daily basis the misuse of power and wealth by those in the society she found herself in. She knew their money would be able to help those in the villages and hovels around Oakwood more than it ever would them. And so she'd taken one of Robert's shirts and a pair of breeches, adjusted them so that they fitted her smaller frame, fashioned a simple mask and, after also borrowing one of Robert's older pistols, she had held up a carriage.

The money she had gotten she gave to a family who had lost their father in a mill accident, the mother had two small children and another just born. The mill owner not offered help or assistance following the death. He had merely reminded them that rent was due and should it not be paid they would be evicted. It had been his carriage that she'd stopped and his money that paid their rent and would pay it for almost a whole year, giving the mother time to find alternative ways of earning coin.

Amelia blew out the candle beside her bed and resolved that after she had given the money concealed in her wardrobe to those who needed it, she would cease to lead the life of 'The Shadow' any longer. She would do what she could as a lady to help those in need, Robert was a more than understanding guardian, she was certain he would help her, knowing him as she did he would probably encourage her. Smiling slightly as she snuggled into her pillows, to know the lies and deception would soon be at an end, easing her conscious a great deal, she began to drift into dreams far more peaceful than those of before.

Robert awoke before the sun after a fitful nights sleep. He was struggling with mixed emotions over his behavior toward his sleeping ward. He deeply regretted his shameful abuse of her privacy. At the same time he lamented not taking the opportunity to go farther with his explorations. As he set on the edge of his bed with his clothes drenched in sweat from his tormented night his mind was filled with the image of her alluring bared breast.

“Why did I not suckle upon her supple flesh? Why did I deny myself a caress of her cunt?” He lamented to himself silently.

Suddenly he found himself sobbing. Guilt had consumed his soul. He was not a man given to sadness and had not sobbed so since loosing his brother. But the conflict of desire and duty toward his ward was tearing him apart. Denying his lust felt unnatural and to his thinking was unhealthy. However, failing in his duty toward Amelia would be unhealthy in ways that did not affect his bodily existence. He was certain that his mental stability and soul were in grave danger.

“I must find her a husband soon,” He sighed as he managed to rise.
He cast off his sweat soaked clothing and moved toward the bathing chamber adjacent to his room. His reflection in a dressing mirror caught his attention. He paused and inspected his nude body as reflected in the glass. He approved of what he saw and decided that Amelia could do far worse then he as a husband. Though twenty years her senior he felt confident that no younger man could offer her more in the bedroom than he. He turned away from the mirror feeling even more shame over his sexual thoughts regarding his ward.

As it was early the maid had not yet brought hot water. Robert washed with the water left in the basin from the previous evening. He considered the cold water a small penitence for his sinful thoughts. Once washed he dressed in simple riding attire and headed for the stables to have the carriage prepared. Then he sought out the housekeeper, Nora to inform her that she would be playing the wife to the head groomsman as he pretended to be a nobleman.

Though the keeper of horses put forth a brave front, both of Robert’s servants were more than a little frightened. As was always the case with news, the exploits of the Shadow were greatly exaggerated. Though common folk knew from the stories of the highwayman’s generosity they had nothing to fear, tales of vicious assaults upon those he robbed were rampant. It is likely such fantasies served to add to the esteem in which the thief was held. Nobles and other wealthy citizens were most often seen as the source of oppression. A few like Robert were known to be kind benefactors who worked to improve the plight of the common man. But most were greedy and enjoyed a lavish lifestyle seemingly provided by the labors of the less fortunate.

The house keeper and groom felt awkward wearing Robert’s parent’s clothing. Nora was particularly uncomfortable wearing the heavy necklace and other jewelry that accented the fine clothing. The only adornment she owned was a small copper and silver band that her late husband had managed to buy for their wedding. In order to free her finger for Lady James’s bejeweled ring she had taken the simple band and tucked it into her corset next to her left breast. She said a silent prayer that the Shadow would not discover it and rob her of the only thing she had left of her husband. She knew the sensible thing to do would be to leave it in the relative safety of the manor. But she could not bear to be parted from the symbol of her great love for even a few hours.

With time remaining before breakfast Robert made his way to the basement armory. Though he was more than proficient with firearms and sword he had never been fond of their use. The guns and other weapons in the manor’s collection were his forefathers’ doing. Other than a few gifts he had received over the years Robert had not added to the impressive collection of weaponry. It was he that had had the underground armory prepared as a place to store away the tools of the death merchants. The secure room occupied a small portion of an old dungeon. The dungeon had fallen out of use when the punishment of wayward citizens was transferred from the landed nobles to the sheriffs and mayors of the various hamlets and towns.

Robert found it curious that his ancestors had thought it their right to imprison people who worked upon their lands. He considered that things had come full circle as he contemplated the use of the old dungeon to hold the Shadow until he could be delivered to York. He was about to set out to capture and imprison or perhaps kill a man who possibly was of his lands. The attacks had all come within a short ride of his property. It did not take much imagination to think that the rogue might be a disgruntled sharecropper or servant. Could this be yet more punishment he lamented as he selected two of the finest pistols in the world. Then he chose an ivory handled hunting knife that could be easily concealed in the matching scabbard within ones clothing.

The knife had been a gift from a famous explorer who often regaled his father’s parties with tales of the dark continent. Robert spent many nights enthralled by the tales of the behemoth creatures whose tusks had been carved into the handle of the deadly knife. His father had purchased the pistols from a London merchant. They reputedly had been made to fill a commission from a Spanish King. The king came down with consumption and perished before taking delivery or making payment. Though history did not fully support the story they were of the finest quality and very accurate. Robert’s father had successfully employed them to maim rivals in two duels of honor.

He hoped the accuracy would be valuable in the event that he was forced to fire upon the Shadow. His marksmanship and the accuracy of the pistols would allow him to take out a leg leaving the scoundrel crippled but alive. Robert did not desire to be executioner. He would do all he could to deliver his quarry to the gallows and let the hangman do the deed.

With the guns stashed in the secret compartment of his carriage and the sheathed knife in his britches, Robert headed toward the kitchen. He hoped to take breakfast with Amelia. If this was to be his last day he would not deny himself the opportunity to share a last meal with her. He could think of no better vision to carry into mortal danger than the beautiful face of his ward.

Amelia awoke feeling refreshed and a lot calmer than she had felt for a long time. She had also slept for longer than she would have normally but she put that down to the wine she had drunk before heading to bed. She dressed and headed down to the dining room, finding Robert already waiting for her.

“Good Morning, my Lord…” She smiled brightly, sipping at her tea and buttering a slice of freshly baked bread. “You slept well, I hope…?”
His expression was one of apparent ease but there was something in his eyes that Amelia couldn’t pinpoint.
He explained that business would take him away from the estate for the day, and possibly the night. His tone was almost regretful and Amelia felt a tug at her insides, if Robert was going away she would be able to finish the last of The Shadow’s business without the worry of discovery.
She knew she would miss him, she always did whenever he went away on business, no matter how short a time he was away.

“I hope it is nothing too serious that will deprive me of your company and that it shall not keep you away for too long…” Amelia smiled shyly.
As she poured herself a second cup of tea, her mind already beginning to formulate a plan to get her out of the house, Robert asked her not to leave the house or grounds alone given the boldness of the Highwayman, suggesting she took one of the footmen with her if she wanted to go into the village. Amelia nodded her acceptance of his request whilst adding some milk to her cup, refraining from actually saying anything. That way she wouldn’t be breaking her word when she slipped out unaccompanied.

After breakfast, Amelia walked with Robert towards the front door, a genuine feeling of sadness lingering over them both. He turned at the door and assured her he would return as soon as he could.
“And I shall miss your presence until you return…” Amelia sighed, returning his warm embrace and laying her head against his shoulder for a moment, before standing at the door and waving him off.

Leaving the house was not as easy as she had anticipated it would be. Lord Robert had clearly mentioned his concerns for her safety to the household staff and at times it felt as if she was being silently observed from every corner. Offers to accompany her into the village or out in the grounds came thick and fast every time she lingered near a doorway leading outside. By afternoon she found her chance. It was the day off for many of the maids, the baking and washing already having been done, only the minimum of household staff were left, the cooks and stable hands and only a few maids. Amelia had made sure to give her personal maid the afternoon off and, claiming a headache, didn’t leave her room at all after luncheon.

As dusk began to settle over the horizon, Amelia began to dress for her final outing as The Shadow. Dressing in her black evening corset, she carefully pulled the black shirt on over the top. Her feminine curves were undeniable in the close fitting breeches but one would have to look closer beneath the voluminous hooded cloak she wore to notice them. She pulled on knee high black riding boots and after tying back her auburn waves with a ribbon, she tied the black mask around her eyes. She knew the hood helped keep her features hidden, along with the mask, although she knew her eyes would probably give her away were she to be seen by anyone she knew.

With the bag of money and valuables held tightly in her hand, and with the pistol securely tucked into her belt, Amelia moved like a shadow through the house. Using the servant staircases and sneaking out from one of the back doors towards the stables. She saddled and mounted Storm and was away before anyone would see her. Storm had been one of the few things to come with her to Oakwood House, a present from her father when she had turned 16, Amelia had named him so because of his mottled grey coat, it had looked like approaching thunder clouds to her young mind.

She streaked through the woods, the black cloak billowing out behind her as she rode steadily and fast. The money she had collected from the carriage the previous day was going to be given to a family living on the edge of a neighbouring Lord’s land, his rent was ridiculously high and he had flatly refused to allow them to use the meagre crops they grew in their garden for sale at market, claiming if they were grown in his soil then any profit from their sale should go to him. The purse she carried would allow them to pay their rent and buy food for their family for a good few months.

As always, she left the bag on the doorstep of the house and, after knocking on the door, streaked back into the shadows on Storm. Smiling a little from her hiding place as she saw the undeniable happiness and relief on the faces of those who discovered the money. Sighing, she clicked her tongue and guided Storm back towards the road. In the distance she could see the flickering torch light of a carriage approaching. Part of her knew she should simply ride home but another part of her knew that the chances were the occupants of the carriage would be as rich and selfish as most who travelled along the Northern Road, they would be travelling with more money than was ever necessary on such trips, money that could help a lot of people.

Her mind made up and pulling the pistol out from beneath her cloak, she steered Storm into the road to stand directly in the path of the carriage. The horses pulling it whinnied and snorted as they were pulled to an abrupt halt by the driver. Amelia raised the pistol slowly, making sure the driver and footman saw it in the lamplight.
“Stand and deliver…!” She bellowed, her voice sounding almost nothing like her normal honeyed tones, swiftly dismounting from Storm and heading to the door of the carriage. “Your money or your…your…!” Her voice faltered as she yanked open the door and she found her eyes failed to meet those of strangers, they were staring into faces she recognised. True their outfits had almost distracted her entirely but their terrified faces were familiar. She frowned, the expression hidden behind her mask, her mind quickly realising what had happened.
Her breath caught in her throat as the truth crashed down around her. The frightened pair before her were none other than Nora the housekeeper and the head groomsman from Oakwood House.

It was a trap, and to make matters worse it was a trap set by Robert himself. Without another word, she turned and fled. Whistling for Storm to follow her, she darted off of the road and back into the woods.

She could hear the sounds of pursuit, branches snapping and heavy breathing, someone was chasing her through the trees and Amelia spurred herself on to run faster. If she could only get back onto the land of Oakwood House, she would be able to find someplace to hide herself. Just as the trees were beginning to thin and hope began to flicker in her mind she felt a strong pair of hands seize her from behind. She struggled and kicked out at them, feeling the pistol falling in the bushes at her feet in the scuffle. Within moments she was thrown to the ground and pinned there. She felt her gloved hands being tightly bound behind her back and she found herself being all but carried back to the carriage.

She was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor of the carriage, Nora and the groomsman appearing to have vanished, although it was more than likely they were now seated outside with the driver. She saw booted feet moving before her and felt the carriage lurch into motion. Her position on her knees with her hands fixed against the small of her back meant she struggled to stay upright as the carriage rolled and bumped along the country road. Amelia’s heart was pounding in her chest, she was finding it hard not to simply burst into hysterical tears, her body trembling incessantly as she warily raised her masked face towards the man sitting before her. Into the face of Lord Robert.