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

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

“Isaac? Why are we in a carriage?”

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

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

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

Now was far worse.

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

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

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

“Alone? I don’t…”

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

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

Oh, God…What have you done, Isaac?

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

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

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

“NO!”

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

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

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

“Isaac, please, you must?—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, God…Did he…

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