Forbidden Desires

Chapter Six

In the days following her riding accident, Amelia was placed on strict bed rest by the estate physician. Although starling, her wounds seemed to be restricted to a mild concussion, a tiny fracture in her wrist, and numerous deep bruises scattered across her back and ribs.

In the peaceful solitude of her luxurious bedroom, Amelia healed bit by bit, trying not to think too much about what had happened to her. She didn't really hate Ryder for making her run an excessively fast pace across the meadow, but the fact that her safety had even been in jeopardy made her less trusting of him.

For as harmless as his adventurous spirit and roguish charm seemed on the surface, it also possessed an alarmingly reckless edge that Amelia couldn't unsee now that she'd glimpsed it firsthand. By indulging her in that wild ride, Ryder had prioritized indulging his own daring whims over the safety and security he should have afforded Vladimir's new bride.

A constant reminder of this fact came in the form of the vase of fresh garden wildflowers that appeared daily, wordlessly replenished by the house staff attending to Amelia's temporary recovery room. The vibrant flowers may well have been plucked from the same area where she had fallen off her horse.

Though Ryder did not dare show himself to offer any sort of personal apology, the mute floral deliveries spoke volumes of his lingering guilt over the incident. Or perhaps she was reading too much into them, Amelia thought with a internal grimace. It was equally possible the man-child lacked the depth for any true sense of culpability to begin with.

With a shudder, Amelia realised that lying there on the grassy floor, immobile and insensible, might have been the closest she would ever get to death. Furthermore, Ryder's careless behaviour raised the unsettling possibility that Vladimir's younger brother would succeed in ending her life before she had a chance to bear children.

Admittedly, it was a morbid train of thought. However, obsessive concern over the impulsive whims of the Romanov brothers appeared to be becoming an unfortunate feature of Amelia's new life.

However, whenever Amelia's dark thoughts started to send her into a downward spiral of the deepest sadness, a helpful diversion would usually appear in the shape of needing help with some small chore. Her treatment was being attended to by a prim English nursemaid, who was always diligent.

"There now, let's get you settled more upright so I can change your dressings," the older woman clucked primly in her heavy Received Pronunciation accent on one such instance. With a firm and ginger touch, she helped Amelia scoot forward on the mound of pillows keeping her propped up in the massive bed.

Hissing hard through her teeth, Amelia delicately slipped her shoulders out from under the pale blue silk robe she wore. Her entire stomach still throbbed with almost every movement, even with the ointment helping to glue her skin back together wherever the bone-jarring collision had sent tremors radiating.

The nursemaid, noticing Amelia's apparent discomfort, pursed her lips sympathetically. "I understand that it hurts like hell, poppet. But we need to take good care of you. I can't leave you mistreated in this home."

Using expert, graceful hands, the woman started to remove the dirty bandages from Amelia's chest, revealing a multitude of purple blotches and cuts that marked the pale skin underneath. Amelia felt an immediate desire to just melt into the luxurious bed linens and never have to face this constant reminder of her frail mortality.

Seeing that Amelia was looking at her with discomfort, the nursemaid replied, "There's no need for such modesty with me, dear," in a sweet, grandmotherly voice. "I've seen far better ladies than yourself in far worse shape over the years."

Amelia trembled instinctively, fighting the want to tightly clasp the robe around her exposed shoulders, and the old woman winked conspiratorially. She still held her arms out in obedience so that her wrappings could be changed.

Amelia sat up straight, surrounded by a halo of wrinkled sheets and a comforter, and couldn't help but notice her own wistful reflection in the vanity's looking glass. Her complexion was pallid and her hair was matted with sweat, giving her a famine-like appearance rather than that of a blushing new wife. Her décolletage was also covered with a sprinkling of plum contusions.

"Thank goodness," Amelia thought bitterly, Vladimir seemed to have no interest in accompanying her on these menial needs of recovery. At the sight of her damaged shape playing obedient patient, he would undoubtedly throw a fit. That's not to say she harboured any false beliefs that he cared about anything other than using her as a vehicle for his children.

The nursemaid's voice cut slyly into Amelia's daydream, "I daresay Mr. Romanov's brother has looked in on you more often these past days than Mr. Romanov himself."

Amelia just remained silent while the elder woman reapplied a thick layer of strong ointment to her wounds, trying not to show any visible reaction to the unexpected innuendo. The gifts of wildflowers now assumed a new symbolic significance.

"That one seems like a sensitive type," the nursemaid continued, not needing confirmation to carry on with her idly observing. "Though perhaps a touch too headstrong and unchecked as young men are wont to be."

When Amelia still refrained from offering any comment, the woman gave a derisive little snort. "In any case, I'd wager young Mr. Ryder likely learned a lesson about tempering his enthusiasms around the gentler s*x from the guilt of this whole affair. You'd know better than me and mine, I'm certain."

Biting her lip in a pang of insecurity, Amelia simply stared resolutely down at the coverlet pooling over her lap. A part of her wanted to confess the strange new emotions she found herself grappling with whenever her mind drifted to thoughts of Vladimir's youngest brother.

Whether it was inadvertent interest or absolute lack of restraint on his part, Ryder Romanov had succeeded in lighting a spark of something within Amelia over the past fortnight that she dared not examine too closely. And any such development of profane, adulterous longings would only destine her for disgrace and ruin in the long run.

Still, the image of Ryder's hazel eyes wide with frantic worry persisted in lurking at the periphery of Amelia's every conscious moment. Perhaps that look alone should have been enough to dissuade any future sordid thoughts of him in the way she'd tried so fervently to repress.

Yet despite her better judgment, the memory of lying helpless in that meadow, with every shallow rasping breath echoing the fierce thunder of Ryder's heartbeat, served only to stoke treacherous coals within Amelia's chest that refused to extinguish no matter how she willed it...

From the corner of her eye, Amelia spotted a flash of vibrant purple blooms being deposited on the vanity, likely yet another fresh bouquet delivery surreptitiously dropped off by the housekeeping staff.

She sighed inwardly, her own heart sinking with embittered guilt at the poignant reminder. It seemed Vladimir's brother was nothing if not persistent in his efforts to make amends for whatever emotional turmoil still roiled between them over that meadow tumble.

As the nursemaid finished rewrapping her fresh dressings in crisp linen bindings, Amelia allowed her eyes to drift over to that innocent bundle of wildflowers sitting on the vanity's edge. Their cheerful petals glowed like tiny bonfires of colorful defiance against the harsh reality of her situation.

Try as she might to douse it, their very presence was accelerant feeding the slow burn of longing flaring to life in her soul. A longing that surely led down a darkened path of utter ruination.

But much like her fevered visions of Ryder's alabaster form outlined against the swaying meadow grasses, Amelia found herself powerless to extinguish that yearning which flickered in her breast. Scorching and painful as it was, she could no sooner deny its existence than she could rationalize away the sun overhead.