Miss Amelia Amesbury did not get toppled. She did not flinch when others flinched, she refused to swoon when others would swoon. She did not cry just because Caroline cried. Amelia had always been more like Charles and their Father in that way. But as she hurried to tuck the sparse excuse of a blanket around Sarah's shoulders, Amelia did not feel very much like herself.

"Take care with her head, Charles," she warned in an even voice as she stepped away and turned to lead the group downstairs once more with one last glance at her elder brother's bewildered expression.

Amelia hurried because she would be the one to make sure the path was clear before the others emerged, but also because she wanted enough privacy to quickly swipe at the few tears that had fallen on her cheek. Perhaps there was a multitude of reasons for crying, but she couldn't put her finger on any just single thing at that moment except for the look of such deep terror she'd seen on her brother's face only minutes ago. Charles, the unshakable one, the war had made him even more so, he'd become hardened, gruff and distant since his arrival back on land. But what she'd seen just moments ago... sheer, helpless terror, added to his inability to give a single command, things that were so unlike her brother, it had in turn disturbed her as well.

A hundred questions rattled around in her mind as they reached the door to the third floor. Amelia beckoned to Rebecca, and the two of them ventured out into the hallway together. Noise from the drawing room meant that most of the guests were still congregated there, but Amelia checked the staircase and side corridors just to be sure. Mrs. Green was waiting for them, she stood holding open a door to a bedchamber just down the hall.

"Rebecca, call for them," Amelia ordered, her voice still even. The maid did her bidding and soon the troupe was stealing down the corridor for the bedchamber that had been prepared for Sarah.

Once inside Amelia continued her work of ordering the others about. Charles laid Sarah on the large bed as if she were made out of glass. The way he touched her face, brushed a strand of hair from her brow, Amelia's bewilderment only deepened as she tried to piece together some kind of explanation. Sarah was settled into bed, a fire was built up, hot water and tea were fetched and Rebecca brought bricks for Sarah's feet. Charles had pulled a chair close to the bed to sit beside her all the while that Amelia and Mrs. Green rushed about the room in preparation for the apothecary.

Sarah had been one of her dearest friends in childhood, though life had pulled them apart since. Amelia felt pangs of guilt for not wondering after her friend's welfare over all these years, but they had not seen her since before Richard's death... This brought another wave of emotion to the floodgates, Richard's death had been so sudden, the mad search for Broadcroft's heir on the high seas at war time had ensued and for six months she'd believed both her brothers to be dead. No, she certainly had not been considering Sarah's fate at the time.

"Mr. Melbourn is here Miss Amelia," Rebecca said, and Amelia laid down the fresh nightgowns she'd been laying out.

"Thank you, Rebecca," Amelia said quietly with a nod, she smoothed her hands against her dinner gown and turned her gaze to Charles once again. He had not moved, just sat there, limp and white-faced as if he'd taken ill as well. Amelia again wondered at the attachment between them, perhaps Henry would know.

"Charles," she said softly, but he did not look up until she touched his arm, "Mr. Melbourn has arrived, you should go," she advised gently. Charles seemed to stare at her without understanding her for a long moment before looking back at Sarah in the bed.

"I will not leave her," Amelia promised him earnestly, but she tugged on his arm, urging him to go. Charles rose from his chair and left the room quickly, without speaking, without looking back as Amelia stared after him.

Mr. Melbourn was quick and to the point as he inspected Sarah while Amelia kept watch. She considered what would need to be done next. Mother would have to be told, Caroline and John as well. Then, once Sarah had recovered, there would need to be a clean break, a way for her to leave Broadcroft without being identified. Perhaps she would agree to travel to Norfolk where Aunt and Uncle lived, Amelia imagined she would be safe from the horrid guardian there. But there must be no hint of impropriety, of the impropriety Amelia suspected had been carrying on under their very noses for the last week past. Charles would recover the scandal, but Sarah's reputation would be ruined. Amelia was pulled from her plotting when Mr. Melbourn completed his examination.

Several minutes later Amelia followed the man into the sitting room where Charles and Lady Eleanor were waiting, without glancing at either of them, Amelia continued out into the corridor alone. She carefully shut the door behind her, took a few steps and ran headlong into Henry.

"Amelia!" he exclaimed, his hands settling at her elbows to steady her as she looked up into his face, "Has Mr. Melbourn seen Sarah yet?" he asked, and Amelia nodded her head, not wanting to move out of Henry's arms a moment before she had to.

"She has pneumonia," Amelia said tiredly, the worries of the last hour cascading over her all at once.

"You're shaking, Amy," Henry said it so gently, looked at her with the kind of concern she'd always received from him, yet the breach between them was ever widening still, and these last few days he'd seemed further from her than ever before.

"I am fine," she answered pulling away from his hold and stepping backwards.

"And how is Charles taking things?" Henry asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"He's absolutely distraught, Henry," Amelia explained with that image of her brother terrified returning to her mind, "I've never seen him so... afraid."

"As well he should be," Henry said lightly with a glance down the corridor, but it caught Amelia's attention immediately.

"What do you mean?"

"He's in love with her, Amy," Henry explained with another roguish smile. She wished he'd stop doing that, pretending that he only ever wanted to smile, "Charles means to marry Sarah, and quickly I'd say, with this turn of events."

"You knew she was here?" Amelia cried incredulously.

"It's not as if I approved of the thing," Henry said with another careless shrug, "You know how Charles can be sometimes," he finished lightly, oh how she wished he would be serious for just one moment. But he wouldn't, he continued to pull back behind his facade of cheerfulness roguish smiles.

"She'll have to be sent away," Amelia stated seriously, her mood turning decidedly damper as Henry's grew more merry.

"Sarah isn't going anywhere." Amelia jumped at the sound of Charles' voice from behind her, and when she turned towards him there was a deep furrow of anger in his brow.

"Charles -" she began again but he cut her off.

"We'll find another way to explain her presence," he said in that tone so like a sea captain's. Amelia felt her heart sink. Did she know any of them anymore? They had all played together as children in the gardens of this very house, yet now Sarah was a maid, Charles a commander and Henry a jester.

"I suppose you have it all in hand, then? No need for anyone else's aid or wit, eh Charles? You've been doing a beautiful job so far with the future Lady Sarah Amesbury," Henry let out in a cheery voice with a wicked smile, but Amelia saw the snap of anger in his eyes as he stared down her brother.

"I apologize," Charles said, "To both of you," he added.

"I haven't been running up and down stairs all evening for you, old boy," Henry retorted with a clap to Charles arm, Amelia could've burst with frustration. Would Henry not just tell Charles he was angry? Would Charles not see that they were his family, not his sailors?

"Yes, quite a help you've been -" Charles began to rip into Henry who had somehow moved so that Amelia was forced to stand on tiptoe and peek over his left shoulder to be heard.

"Please," she said in a firm voice, causing both men to take pause. She looked from Henry's seemingly unaffected smirk to Charles' tormented eyes and took a deep breath herself.

"I think I have a solution."