Partridge and the Peartree (4 page)

With Giles carrying her heavy satchel, Amelia slipped
out a side door of Sudbury House and hurried out to the street.
Before proceeding further, she donned an old, mismatched scarf to
hide her features in case any of her brother's neighbors happened
along. As a further precaution she abandoned the straight-backed
posture she'd perfected in finishing school and hunched forward as
she walked.

When they reached Saint Paul's Cathedral, Giles
stepped ahead of her to open the heavy wooden doors. Amelia nodded
her thanks as she stepped inside. She continued on to a smaller
chapel reserved for her use.

A dozen eager youngsters greeted her as she entered.
"Evenin', Miss Partridge," they chorused. She'd instructed them to
use her family name, rather address her as Lady Amelia, to gain the
trust of their families.

"Good evening, children. Are you ready to learn more
letters tonight?"

An eager affirmative filled the room. Amelia reached
in her bag for her supplies — paper, pens, and ink.

The children sat quietly as she prepared for their
lesson. They'd learned if they behaved themselves, they would be
rewarded. As Amelia worked, she noticed a few adults sitting
quietly on the outside of the room. She rejoiced to see the parents
appeared as eager to learn as much as the children, maybe even
more. She cleared her throat so that her voice would project
without seeming to shout.

"All right, children. Let's review the letters we
learned last time."

For the next hour, Amelia took her students through a
drill of learning their letters, and then had them read
combinations of those letters. Then she distributed the paper and
writing utensils so the children could practice forming those
letters. Beginning with the eldest, she worked with each child,
patiently guiding their fingers around the pen so they could write
their first words:
cat
,
bat
, and
hat
.

As she worked with the children, guiding their hands,
encouraging them, reveling in their warmth, she wondered what her
life would be like if she had accepted one of her offers of
marriage and started a family of her own. She might now be sitting
with her own children, guiding them through their lessons.

When the last child had written the letters to her
satisfaction, Amelia pulled a pile of napkins and from her satchel,
and then a bulky packet that gave off the delicious aroma of
cinnamon and oranges. Last of all, she removed a well-worn
book.

"Children, I brought along a book of my favorite
stories to share. Would you like me to read one of them while
you're eating your treat?"

The children's enthusiastic response warmed her
heart. Hopefully, they would someday enjoy reading stories as well
as hearing them.

"Well, then, remember what we learned about eating
politely."

Napkins were distributed and placed carefully over
the children's laps before she untied the bundle and handed each
child a scone, waiting for and accepting polite thanks before going
to the next child. She mentally cringed as the scones were
immediately stuffed into their mouths and gobbled but schooled her
features to maintain a pleasant smile. Manners could be taught a
little at a time — right now it was enough that she was staving off
the children's hunger.

Extra scones were offered to — and eagerly accepted
by — the adults present. She made a mental note to bring more
treats the next time. If word spread that she distributed food
along with the lessons, there was certain to be more hungry people
attending next time. Amelia made a note to tell Cook she needed
twice as many treats for her next lesson.

****

Phillip watched the lesson from a spot just outside
the archway into the chapel. He'd been on his way home after
visiting his sister when he'd seen two dark figures leaving Sudbury
House. Despite her disguise, he'd recognized Amelia when she'd
paused to don her scarf. He'd wondered where she was going dressed
in such a manner and couldn't stop himself from following.

His curiosity had increased when she'd slipped into a
side door of St. Paul's Cathedral. Why ever would she dress so
plainly for a visit to the church? Was she meeting someone?

Amelia had indeed been meeting someone. Nearly a
dozen little someones. Now, he watched, entranced, as Amelia led
the students through their lesson.

He started when someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Turning, he saw Robert had brought him a chair. He nodded
gratefully and sat in the dim hallway where he could continue his
observation. Lady Amelia was a wonderful teacher. She kept her
students engaged, encouraging them with a gentle smile or a pat on
the shoulder. So unlike the stern taskmasters who had come to
Bartlett Manor to teach him and his siblings. His knuckles still
smarted from the many raps they'd received when his letters hadn't
been formed properly!

She ended her lesson by reading aloud to the students
while they ate treats she provided. There had been extras, enough
for the hungry adults who had observed from the back of the room.
She's made friends for life
, he thought.
Feeding their
bodies as well as their minds
.

This was a remarkable woman. While other women of the
ton
were primarily concerned with their looks, wardrobe or
the latest gossip, Lady Amelia had a cause, a purpose. She was as
unique as she was lovely. How proud he would be to have such a
delightful creature standing by his side. But his disfigurement
would preclude that from happening. Even a kind-hearted woman like
her would be repelled at the thought of him as a mate.

Phillip stood and beckoned for his valet. He waited
while Robert returned the chair to where he had gotten it then
stepped toward the door. Robert stopped him with a light touch on
his sleeve, nodding to a point behind him. Turning, he saw Amelia
walking toward them.

"Good evening, Your Grace. I trust our lesson didn't
interfere with your evening prayers?" she asked as students and
parents made their way past them.

"On the contrary, Lady Amelia. Observing your lesson
was the highlight of my evening. You have some eager young pupils.
How did you come to teach them?"

"I happened to be here when one of the priests was
conducting a lesson. He was using ancient materials, text children
didn't understand. And he was horrid to them! Smacking their little
hands when they didn't form their letters correctly. I was
appalled, and was ready to go to the Cathedral Council, but decided
to speak to the instructor himself. The poor man was in over his
head! He was a Latin scholar and had no idea what to do with small
children who couldn't even name their letters. I volunteered to
help and started teaching them the next day."

"How fortunate for them."

"Thank you. I do what I can," she responded, a
becoming blush staining her cheeks. "It's not much, and we need
more books and materials. And it would be wonderful if we had a
place to meet that wasn't quite so dark. But for now the children
are at least learning to read. I believe a little education will
give them an opportunity for better jobs."

"I would be happy to assist you."

Her eyes opened wide. To be honest, his offer had
surprised him as much as it had her, but the smile lighting her
face made him glad he'd voiced it.

"That would be wonderful, Your Grace. I'm sure the
boys would welcome a masculine figure such as you. So many of them
don't have a father figure in their lives, you know."

"Er — I meant I'd be happy to sponsor your teaching.
I have a great many books in my personal library, and it would be a
privilege to supply the paper and pens."

"Oh! Thank you for that, Your Grace." She bowed her
head and turned to gather her supplies, but as she packed her bag
Phillip couldn't stop the feeling that he would soon be helping her
with more than just the supplies.

It was a brisk December afternoon, and a light snow
during the night had put a freshness in the air. Now it was sunny,
and Amelia decided it was too nice to stay indoors. Despite the
cold, she donned her cloak and took one of her new books, settling
on a bench in the private garden behind her brother's home.

She had just begun to read when a tiny fur ball
dashed across her line of vision and scampered up into the wild
pear tree growing next to her bench. It was Colette's newest
kitten, Sophie. Of course, once the little thing got up in the
tree, she didn't know what to do. Frightened, she howled for
help

"Oh, you poor dear," Amelia crooned, setting down her
book. "Let me help you." She climbed onto the bench and reached up
toward the branch, but the kitten backed away from her and climbed
higher.

"Come here, sweetheart. I won't hurt you," Amelia
cajoled. Standing on tiptoe, she stretched her arm farther, but she
still couldn't reach the kitten. Exasperated, she stepped up onto
the lowest branch, but the kitten was still out of reach. Worse
yet, the little creature kept backing farther away. Amelia took a
tentative step along the branch, and then another…

And then found she couldn't move.

The lace of her petticoat had tangled in the gnarled
branches of the tree, effectively pinning her in place. She
couldn't move her legs to go either way.

"Lady Amelia Partridge? How ever did you get caught
in that pear tree?"

"Are you all right, Lady Amelia?"

Startled, she turned her gaze downward. The Duke of
Bartlett and his niece, Laurel, stood next to her bench, looking up
at her. Amelia was torn between relief at being rescued and chagrin
at being caught in such a predicament.

"Good day, Your Grace. Please excuse my lack of
manners, but I seem unable to curtsey at this moment. Mademoiselle
Colette's kitten climbed the tree and was unable to get down, so I
came up here to rescue her. And yes, Laurel, I'm fine. I'm
just…stuck, as well."

Laurel tugged at her uncle's arm until he looked down
at her. "Uncle Phillip, you must help her get down."

Phillip nodded and stepped up onto the bench. His
height allowed him to stand on the bench and easily reach the
branch that had caught her skirts. Leaning against the trunk for
balance, he reached a long arm out and carefully detached her
skirts from the tree's grasp. As soon as she was free, she took a
step down, but a pair of strong hands grasped her waist, and she
found herself lifted off the branch and settled safely on the
ground.

Amelia stammered her thanks, but Phillip climbed up
into the tree and caught the kitten by the scruff of her neck.
Holding Sophie carefully, he dropped lightly to the ground and
offered the shivering kitten to her.

Amelia could barely meet her rescuer's gaze. Heat
flooded her cheeks – was it from embarrassment, or was it
excitement from the physical contact with the handsome duke?

"Thank you again, Your Grace. And I know my future
sister-in-law will be most grateful to you for rescuing her
Sophie."

Phillip bowed. "I assure you, it was my
pleasure."

Before Amelia could frame a response, Laurel took
Amelia's arm. "I'm so glad we found you at home today, Lady Amelia.
I need to speak to you. I've talked to Uncle Phillip, but he says I
need a woman's view, so I asked him to bring me here right
away."

Amelia couldn't imagine what advice she could give
the distraught young woman, but she invited her to sit on the bench
with her. "How can I help, Laurel?"

The girl launched into her tale. "It's Mama! She
wants me to have a season next year, and she has lots of plans for
dresses and parties, but I don't need all that to find a husband. I
don't want to marry anyone but Nicky!"

Laurel's anxiety tugged at her heart. She could
sympathize with the girl's dilemma, having had wishes totally
against those of her parents. Amelia's own mother, rest her soul,
had cried endlessly at her only daughter's total lack of interest
in the selection of eligible bachelors attending the balls during
her season. A few of the gentlemen had even offered for her hand,
but she simply couldn't muster the enthusiasm for any of them and
had turned them down. "Why should I marry simply because a man
asks?" she'd said when her mother had pressed.

But now, Amelia needed to choose her words wisely.
The young girl gazing her hopeful eyes toward her was the daughter
of her close friend, and probably as close to a daughter as she
would ever have. Her wishes might be different from those Amelia
had had as a young girl, but like hers, they were opposite what her
parents wanted. Or so she thought.

"Have you explained how you feel to your mother,
Laurel? Does she know the young man?"

"She knows him, but she thinks this is simply a
schoolgirl whim and that I should see what real gentlemen are like.
Oh, Lady Amelia, I don't need to see anyone else. No man would ever
compare to my Nicky!"

She glanced at Phillip. "Nicky?"

The duke cleared his throat. "Nicholas Kentridge,
second son of the Earl of Dunham."

Though his voice had revealed nothing, his dark
expression told Amelia exactly what he thought of the young man.
Knowing the boy's identity, Amelia had to agree. The earl was a
rake, and according to rumor, his sons were cut from the same
cloth. But the love-struck girl wouldn't want to hear that.

Amelia covered Laurel's hand with her own. "Does
Nicky feel the same? Has he expressed a desire for the two of you
to marry?"

"Well…no, but I'm certain he will. It just wouldn't
be fair for me to encourage anyone else."

"You wouldn't have to encourage anyone during your
season. But if you go along with your mother's plans, you can show
Nicky exactly how lovely and suitable you are."

"Nicky's not interested in beauty." Laurel's eyes
gleamed, and her posture straightened as she spoke of her intended
beau. "He told me he admires my intellect and my artistic talent."
Amelia noticed Phillip turn his head away and guessed it was to
hide the derision in his eyes. Thankfully, Laurel was too lost in
her own thoughts to notice her uncle.