It had been a long, warm day, and Amelia grew more and more restless. By night, she had picked up and dropped at least a dozen books, annoyed Mr. Hamilton by dressing and undressing him repeatedly, and frustrated Rosé so much that the maid went to bed early, muttering about spoiled young ladies.
The air from the garden was sweet with roses and honeysuckle, and Amelia opened her window to let the scent drift in. Rosé would have been horrifiedshe strongly believed night air was unhealthybut Amelia didn't care. She felt too strong to be harmed by a little fresh air, and she loved the early summer breeze on her skin.
Then she heard a rustling sound near her window. At first, she told herself it was just a stray dog, or maybe a hedgehog. But when she heard it again, her heart began to pound.
She grabbed a light robe and quickly put it over her nightdress, then moved toward the window, feeling both nervous and excited.
A large man's hand suddenly gripped the edge of her balcony, and it took all her strength not to scream. She reminded herself that she never screamed, and instead grabbed the fireplace poker, holding it out like a sword.
Another hand appeared… then a masked face… and within seconds, a tall masked bandit had climbed onto her balcony.
Her cat Mr James however, had no problem screaming. He jumped onto her shoulder and let out a loud, sharp cry.
"Hush, hush," Amelia said, lifting him into her arms. "Don't be naughty. You'll wake the whole house."
The bandit looked slightly alarmed. "Do not be frightened," he said in a smooth, attractive voice. "I will not harm you."
Amelia set the poker aside and reached into her pocket for a biscuit. "I'm not frightened," she said calmly. "You're my bandit."
"You are surprised to see me?"
Amelia thought about it. "A little. I'm supposed to tell you to stay away. You'll ruin my reputation and upset everything, and my maid hates you."
"How can she hate me?" he asked with a lazy smile. "She does not even know me."
"If she knew you, I'm sure she'd like you," Amelia said, giving him a small, shy smile.
She looked at him more closely. In the warm light of her room, he was even more handsome than he had been outside. Beneath the mask, she could make out strong cheekbones and a straight nose… and his mouth she couldn't decide if it was too wide or just right.
"I think he is hungry," the bandit said with a grin.
"Hungry?" Amelia asked weakly.
"Your cat."
She looked down at Mr. James, who was staring impatiently at the biscuit in her hand. "Oh! Poor Mr. James I've been teasing him."
She fed him, and he quickly climbed to the top of the wardrobe, still watching the bandit with clear disapproval.
"May I come in," the bandit asked, "or will you tease me as well?"
Amelia hesitated. "Oh… I don't know…"
"I will stay out here, if you prefer. It will be entertaining for your father's servants to take shots at me until one of them succeeds."
Amelia shook her head. "My father doesn't pay anyone to guard the house at night. He thinks it's unnecessary. Lewisham is very quiet. But… you may come in. I only wish I could offer you some tea."
The bandit stepped easily inside. Amelia suddenly became very aware of how messy her room was books stacked everywhere, clothes and lace scattered around, flowers filling every space, and even a sticky honey pot on her desk.
"I do not need refreshments, Miss Sommerville," he said. "I came to see you."
Amelia quickly cleared a chair for him. "Please, sit. I've been thinking about you all day. Rosé was very cross with me. I promised I wouldn't go looking for you—but I can't help it if you come to me, can I?"
The bandit looked surprised, then quickly recovered. "And I have been thinking of you… or dreaming of you. You are like a dream soft, pale, like moonlight."
"That's odd," Amelia said. "I feel quite real."
As if to prove it, Mr. James jumped into her lap and began chattering.
"I'm afraid he doesn't approve of you being here without a chaperone," Amelia said with a smile, scratching the ears. "But as long as you behave, I think we can trust you."
The bandit looked slightly uncomfortable. "Of course… you may trust me. I would never allow harm to come to you."
She felt a little shy under his intense gaze. "Thank you… but I doubt my hair is in any real danger."
"I must ask you a question," he said.
"Let's take turns," Amelia said quickly. "I ask one, then you ask one."
"Very well. Where is your family from?"
"You could at least have asked to go first," she said, frowning. "Perhaps Rosé was right, you're not as polite as you seem."
"And who is this Rosé?" he asked.
"That's two questions!" she said sharply. "Very unfair. I'll answer you first then it's my turn."
He nodded.
"I was born in Aparto," she said, "but we moved to England when I was small. My father is a merchant. Now it's my turn."
"Ask anything," The bandit said.
She became serious. "You must not lie to me. If you don't want to answer, keep your secrets but don't lie. Promise?"
He frowned. "Very well."
"Why did you become a bandit?"
His expression turned cold. "That is none of your business."
"That's not much of an answer."
"It is the truth," he said flatly.
"Now it's my turn. How long have your family lived in Aparto? Have they been there for many generations, or does your mother come from somewhere else?"
"That's a funny question," Amelia said.
"Maybe I should reply that it's not your business so you would know how it feels".
"Your answer please". He said, trying to mask his impatience.
"Her family the Reeds are from Ashford. She went to Valencia with her brother William, and that's where she met my father."
"Her brother is William Reeds? The one with the silver eyes?" he asked quickly.
"You should let me ask one first," Amelia said. Then her shyness came back, and for a moment she almost lost her courage. She squeezed Mr. James a little and asked, "Are you heartbroken?"
The bandit looked like he wanted to say it wasn't her business, but instead he said, "In a way."
"In a way? What does that mean?"
"That's another question. Now it's my turn."
Amelia sniffed. "I thought that was part of my question, but fine. You can ask again. Though honestly, your questions aren't very interesting."
He shrugged. "They are to me. Where does your Uncle William live? Is he still in Valencia? Do you have any other family with the same eyes? Brothers? Cousins?"
"You're really too forward."
The bandit clenched his fists in his gloves. Amelia suddenly noticed how much bigger he was than her, and how his dark eyes looked dangerous behind his mask.
"You're testing my patience, Miss Amelia."
Mr. James, who had been dozing, opened his black eyes and showed his small, sharp teeth at the bandit.
"And you're testing mine," Amelia said, holding herself steady. "There's no point trying to scare me. And you asked two questions like I wouldn't notice. But I did. So I'll only answer one. I don't have any brothers or cousins. Only my uncle has eyes like mine. Though I've always thought they were gray, not silver. You have quite the imagination, Mr. Vermilion. Now it's my turn."
The bandit nodded. "Fine, go on."
"Have you ever hurt a lady since becoming a bandit?" Amelia asked, her cheeks warm as she looked at him.
"No," he said gently. "And I won't hurt you either, if you answer my questions. Where does your uncle live?"
"What do you want with my uncle?" Amelia asked. "You're supposed to answer me before asking another question."
Amelia picked up Mr. James and settled him on her shoulder. "Anyway, he lives in Ravenmoor now, near Black Hollow. What do you want with him? He's not the easiest person."
"I thought so. I once had something that belonged to him."
"And you want to return it?"
Seb shook his head. "It's lost."
Amelia touched the ribbon at her neck. "Can't you just get another one? You must have plenty of money if you're a bandit."
"What I lost can't be replaced."
Amelia dropped onto the bed. "That happened to me once. I lost a locket that belonged to my grandmother. It wasn't expensive, but a new one wouldn't feel the same. I felt really bad."
The bandit nodded. "That's serious."
Amelia gave him a look. "So what did you lose?"
"If you don't like being lied to," he said, "you shouldn't ask so many questions."
"I am nosy, aren't I?" Amelia said, scooting back on the bed.
They spoke a little longer, until he suddenly said, "I must go."
"I want to see you again," Amelia said quickly.
"It would be unwise," he replied. "I am a criminal. I could be hanged."
"They wouldn't hang you!"
"I hurt people," he said simply.
"I don't believe that," she said softly. "You're just hurt."
He stepped back sharply. "Do not fall in love with me."
"I'm not!" she said, offended.
"Good," he muttered, climbing out the window.
"You're really leaving?" she asked.
"Yes."
"When will I see you again?"
"You won't."
"But what about our friendship?"
"No."
He climbed down, mounted his horse, and rode off into the darkness.
Amelia stood there, watching until he disappeared.
He had been there… in her room… like something out of a dream.
And as he rode away, his vermilion-lined cloak flying behind him, it felt as though he had taken all her dreams with him.