"Please, I prefer Sebastian."
The behavior that her mother had drilled into her for years insisted that such intimacy was improper, but Amelia gave a mental shrug. She had abandoned propriety the moment she had left her parents' home. She would always consider herself a lady, but the binding strictures that had so consumed her life in society now seemed more than a little ridiculous.
"Very well, Sebastian."
His slow, heart-stopping smile was reward enough for her weakness, and Amelia made no protest as he reached out to gently grasp her hand in his own. The dangerous sensations tingling through her body were a worry for later.
"I brought a few guests with me. I hope you do not mind?"
"Guests?" She lifted her brow in surprise.
"Very important guests." Slowly shifting his body, he allowed Amelia to catch sight of William happily settled upon the window seat with six black kittens curled upon his lap. Her smile abruptly widened at the sight of William's unabashed pleasure.
"Oh, bless you. William has been quite anxious to know that the kittens are well. You have greatly eased his mind."
"I feared that he might be fretting," he admitted softly.
Her gaze returned to meet his watchful look. "It was kind of you to go to such an effort."
He wrinkled his nose at her sincere gratitude. "It was no effort. I simply scooped the box from the kitchen floor."
Amelia gave a choked laugh, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Never say that you have taken the kittens into your home?"
His own lips twitched with suppressed amusement. "Much over my housekeeper's protests, although I have noted she devotes considerably more effort to seeing to the comfort of those creatures than she does to my own. I am commanded to return them within the hour for their feeding."
"She sounds a lovely woman."
Sebastian gave a teasing frown. "Fah. She is a frightening old tartar who bullies me unmercifully."
Impressed far more at his kindness toward her brother than any lavish gift he might have brought for her, Amelia reached out to lightly touch his arm.
"I. . ." Her words of gratitude failed as her gaze moved over the oddly familiar features and abruptly caught sight of a half-healed cut upon his temple. There was also the unmistakable darkening of fading bruises upon his white skin. "You have been injured."
She felt him stiffen beneath her fingers before forcing a wry smile to his lips.
"It is nothing."
Her heart clenched fiercely. The thought of him being hurt brought her physical pain. As if she had taken the blows herself.
"What occurred?"
"A brief altercation in the lane."
"With whom?"
His lips twisted wryly. "I fear I did not take the time to note his identity."
Her fingers unconsciously tightened upon his arm. "Could it have been the murderer?"
"I think not," he retorted, his tones oddly clipped.
Her brows drew together. "How can you be certain?"
He breathed out a harsh sigh. "Can you not simply accept my word?"
Amelia began to bristle at his chiding words, only to realize that she was once again being unreasonable. The poor man was still healing from his wounds, and rather than offering him sympathy, she was bullying him with her suspicions.
"Yes, of course," she said with a regretful smile. "Forgive me."