“He learns so quickly, it’s astounding,” Alexander said, ruffling the neck of the dog, who had sat on the pavement once his new master came to a halt.
“He’s a very intelligent dog,” Amelia said in agreement. “From what Uncle Jeremy has said, his breed is very easy to train; I suppose sometimes there is such a thing as too intelligent, though. He just didn’t want to chase birds, either alive or dead, and I can’t really blame him,” Amelia said with a smile, looking fondly at the dog. She was convinced he would be happy with Alexander; it was clear the dog was already dedicated to him.
The butler came to the door, and Amelia asked if Alexander would like to enter for tea. Alexander refused. “If you don’t mind I would like to keep Samson by my side and return home.”
“Would you please ask Mr Critchley if he is ready to depart, Wilson?” Amelia asked the butler who nodded and disappeared inside the house.
Alexander reached out his hand, and Amelia placed hers in it. “Miss Basingstoke, I owe you such a great debt.”
“Samson has done the work,” Amelia said, ever dismissive of a compliment.
“I owe you the debt from even before I’d met Samson,” Alexander clarified. “On that first night, you seemed to shine a light into my very dark world. I can never thank you enough for talking to me even though I was in the worst of moods.”
“I’m glad I helped; you cheered my evening as well,” Amelia admitted.
“I wish I could secure a dance with you one day,” Alexander said quietly.
“If you could, we would not be having this conversation. We are from different worlds, Captain Worthington, but I am glad you have Samson. Please look after him.” It was the first time Amelia had voiced what they had both thought over the weeks they had known each other. It was the only way Amelia could keep the reality of their friendship at the forefront of her mind; to do otherwise would be to mourn what had never been hers.
“Our paths are never going to cross again are they?” Alexander said, the realisation of losing her hitting him fully for the first time. He felt a lump of lead form in his stomach and somehow knew instinctively it would not be easy to remove.
“No,” came the quiet response.
Alexander kissed Amelia’s hand. It was inappropriate, but convention be damned! He was losing the one person who had gone out of her way to help him these last few weeks, and now his actions had ultimately been the cause of their separation. He heard Amelia’s intake of breath but, before he could say more, Richard came quickly down the steps.
“Worthington?” Richard asked quietly. He noticed Amelia’s distraught expression and suddenly had the feeling she was not the shallow, calculating miss he had first suspected. She had true feelings for his friend, and she was hurting. He was gentleman enough to have sympathy with the young woman even though no one could offer her hope.
“It’s time to go home,” Alexander said turning to Richard. “Miss Basingstoke, I wish you every health and happiness for your future.”
“Thank you,” Amelia replied with a curtsey and, with bows, the two gentlemen turned away from her. She walked into the house and, instead of being able to grieve the loss she felt, she was greeted by Serena.
“You were throwing yourself at a blind man who thankfully couldn’t see what an exhibition you were making of yourself! How desperate are you? Just wait until mother hears about this!” Serena said gleefully.
“Oh, Serena, go and find another impoverished relative to torment because they are in no position to fight back! I’ve had enough of you and your bitterness!” Amelia snapped. She left her cousin standing in the hall in shock at the anger aimed at her. Amelia knocked on her uncle’s study door. It was time to go home.
Chapter 8
London early December 1806
Amelia sat on the benches at the ball without the usual feelings of disappointment that the time spent sitting at the edges of society could cause. Tonight was her last night in London, and she would never enter the confines of the City again; of that she was quite sure. She had managed to persuade her uncle to let her return home only by telling him she would leave his protection and make her way under her own volition if he did not agree to her scheme of returning to her family.
Sir Jeremy had submitted to a forceful character as he always did, but he insisted on her staying for a week longer, enabling him to accompany her to Charmouth himself. He had some business to attend to within a mile or two of his brother’s house, and he was willing to accompany Amelia home. It had been a compromise that Amelia could agree to; one week in her aunt and cousin’s company seemed like nothing when reflecting over the previous two and a half years she had spent with them.
Her aunt had graciously allowed her to attend this last ball. Amelia was sure it was so that she could point out the unmarriageable one of the family, lamenting what a trial it had been for her to deal with, failing to mention all the work Amelia had done when her aunt could not stir herself, which was more often than not. Amelia reflected that, if nothing else, she had become a better seamstress on this trip.
Amelia sat, her foot tapping to the music, watching the couples dancing the cotillion. She saw Mr Critchley amongst the crowd of people long before he reached her. He was a finely dressed young man, his frock coat made of the finest wool and the satin of his waistcoat a striking contrast against the thicker material. His breeches clung to his legs, and his boots shone in the candlelight. He was rightly one of the most admired men in any ballroom, but to Amelia he just did not have the presence of Captain Worthington. It was clear Richard was making his way towards her, and he smiled at her when their eyes met. She was surprised at his approach; he had previously been wary of being around her family for which, though a pity for he was an entertaining character, she did not think any less of him.
“Miss Basingstoke, I hope you are well,” Richard bowed before Amelia.
“I am, thank you, Mr Critchley,” Amelia replied with a smile.
“I’ve come to ask for your hand for the next two if you are willing and not already taken?”
“As you see I’m fighting off hordes of admirers, but I shall make myself available for you,” Amelia said with a falsely coy look.
“I’m honoured,” Richard grinned, appreciating the unaffected response. “In the meantime, may I join you?”
“Of course.” Amelia shuffled along the bench to make room.
“I’ve been spending quite a lot of time with that animal,” Richard said, flicking out the tails of his exquisitely made deep red frock coat before making himself comfortable on the bench.
“Captain Worthington?” Amelia said with a mischievous look.
Richard chuckled. “Oh, Miss Basingstoke, you should know never to give friends the ammunition to torment the other. I shall have fun with that comment!”
Amelia smiled, “I would expect nothing less, but tell me about Samson. Has he settled into his new home?”
“Yes, and it seems the days of being disobedient are long past. I doubt your uncle would recognise him now. Worthington has him working so much he is as docile as can be. It’s not all work though; he is taken to Green Park every morning and evening for a run off lead,” Richard explained.
“Yes, working did seem to tire him as much as a good run did,” Amelia agreed. “I’m glad he’s settled in well; I thought he would but there was always a little doubt.”
“Yes, I half expected to find Worthington abandoned in the street one day, but it appears the dog takes his responsibilities seriously.”
“It must give Captain Worthington a much needed sense of freedom.”
“It does.”
“I can’t imagine any of my brothers coping with being so reliant on others.”
The dance finished, and Richard stood and offered his hand to Amelia. “Shall we take our place?” he asked leading her through the crowds to reach the dancefloor.
Richard was an amenable partner, and Amelia was kept entertained throughout their two dances. It was a nice end to her stay, experiencing the pleasure of dancing with a handsome man; that he would never match the appeal of another Amelia refused to let herself dwell on; it would take away the shine of the current dance.
After the two dances ended Richard escorted Amelia to the edge of the ballroom. She was grateful he did not return her to the benches, enabling her to pretend she was equal to all the other young ladies milling about the room.
“I hope we will see you one morning in Green Park,” Richard said, not needing to explain who the ‘we’ was. “I can’t say I go every morning, but Worthington does.”
Amelia’s smile was tinged with sadness. “I’m afraid that is a pleasure I shall not be able to join in. I’m returning home tomorrow.”
“But the season hasn’t finished!” Richard said in genuine surprise. He had some idea of Amelia’s feelings and was surprised that she was willingly removing herself from any chance of seeing Alexander.
“I know,” Amelia replied, stopping herself from uttering words that would sound bitter. There was no point in longing for something that was not meant to be. “It’s time I returned home to my family; I have a longing to be with them for Christmas. I’ve not seen them for more than two years.”
“That is a shame.”
“We should be close to the ones we love at this time of year. I have had two Christmas’s away from home; I don’t want to experience a third,” Amelia said quietly.
Richard smiled and bowed to Amelia. “Forgive me for saying but I admit to being wary of your motives when we first met Miss Basingstoke, but that was my poor judgement. It has been a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m aware the name of Basingstoke inspires fear in most single men,” Amelia replied drily.
Richard laughed. “I wish you a speedy, safe journey.” He bowed and left Amelia smiling at his retreating form.
*
Alexander was struggling. He was working Samson for a large part of each day. Peterson and Richard had been on hand to help with the practice sessions as Samson was taught each action he was being asked to do. Then they would follow Alexander as he worked with Samson to retrace a route somewhere just to make sure the dog was happy and confident.
Each morning and evening Alexander took Samson to Green Park with his footman and let the dog have a run without being restricted by Alexander’s presence. The work was paying off; only two weeks had passed since Samson had moved in and already Alexander visited a coffee shop every morning to pass the time of day with its other occupants.
The novelty of seeing a dog leading a person had encouraged some of the gentlemen to approach Alexander and start a conversation while he drank coffee. Once the initial approach had been made everyone, including Alexander, had relaxed somewhat, which enabled more natural conversations to develop. Now, each morning he would be hailed by someone who would be willing to tell him of the latest news from the racing or shooting world. It seemed their initial view of him as too limited to add anything useful to a conversation was no longer the case. Alexander wondered if it had more to do with his inability to be as pleasant as he should have been and their nervousness about such a unique situation.
Alexander had also approached, with Richard’s support, his favourite club, White’s. They had enquired as to whether Samson would be welcome within its walls. An agreement was made on condition that the dog behaved itself, so each afternoon Alexander walked to 37 St James’ Street to partake of refreshment and more male company. He chose to stay with one club; Samson knew exactly where to go once the instruction of ‘Take me to the club, Samson,’ was given. Alexander was aware that he did not wish to overload the animal, and White’s was easily accessible from Alexander’s own house on Jermyn Street.
So, for the first time since the battle of Trafalgar Alexander was socialising more than he had done since his return. He realised he would never fully rejoin society; there would be no more ballrooms for him, but he felt a freedom that, a few months ago, he never thought he would have.
He should be happy he acknowledged to himself. He
was
happy, but there was a problem. There was something missing. He raised the subject with Richard one afternoon while his sat in one of White’s comfortable leather chairs, Samson lying contentedly at Alexander’s feet.
“I go to Green Park every morning,” Alexander started.
“I know; Peterson has told me it doesn’t matter how cold the night has been, you always venture outdoors,” Richard said. A closer relationship had developed between the two friends and the valet. It was unusual for such an instance to occur, but they were dealing with a unique situation, and it required more communication than was normal.
“I’d have thought Miss Basingstoke would have wished to see how Samson was faring,” Alexander said, wishing he could see the expression on his friend’s face at the mention of the young lady. One of the main disadvantages with blindness was being unable to read what the person you were communicating with was thinking. The voice did not always betray what thoughts or emotions were being felt the way an expression did.
Richard paused before speaking. Alexander had flushed slightly when mentioning the young lady’s name, something Richard had never seen happen before. Alexander’s voice also betrayed longing. “So it wasn’t just the dog that attracted you to the park each morning before you purchased him?”
“No,” Alexander replied honestly. He remembered clearly that Richard had dismissed Amelia as ‘not his type’ when he had first met her and did not know if he would ridicule Alexander now, but it was a risk he had to take. There was no other way of receiving news of a young woman whom he longed to be near.
“I see,” Richard said trying to decide what to tell his friend.
Alexander decided to be open with Richard. “She was the only person apart from yourself who treated me like a normal human being. I never thought after the ball that I would ever meet her again, but then she burst into my life that morning in the park. I tried to concentrate on the dog; I think I was doing it at first, but I realise now that it was also the times we talked that I looked forward to.”
“She isn’t like her relations,” Richard admitted.
“No! Not at all. In fact they’ve made her life hell, which was another reason I hoped she would still walk in Green Park every morning. I know she used Samson as a reason for escape.”
“Alex, she’s no longer in London,” Richard said.
“What? Why? What’s happened?” Alexander said, so forcefully that Samson jumped up, immediately aware that something was wrong.
“I saw her at Lindhurst’s ball last week. I actually had two dances with her; she was a delightful dance partner, very light on her feet.”
“Get to the point,” Alexander ground out, insanely jealous that Richard had had the opportunity of dancing with Amelia. He wanted the chance to hold her as they moved, but he never would, even if she were to stay in London for the next ten years.
“Her uncle was taking her home soon after the ball. I can’t quite remember whether it was the next day or a few days afterwards, but she was definitely going home.”
“But it’s the middle of the season!” Alexander said, trying to grasp onto something that would prevent her from leaving even though he knew the season would not keep Amelia in London.
“I think she’d had enough,” Richard replied confirming what Alexander knew to be true.
“Damn it!” Alexander cursed.
Richard watched his friend. Alexander might not be able to read a person’s expression, but he could still betray his feelings through expressions. “I didn’t realise you felt so strongly about her,” Richard finally said quietly.
Alexander slumped back in his seat. “Who am I trying to fool Richard?” He asked, a bereft expression on his face. Samson sensed that his master was upset and put his nose under Alexander’s hand in reassurance. Alexander stroked the dog absentmindedly. “I’ve just realised how much I need to meet with her again.”
“What do you want to achieve?” Richard had concerns that he would not want Amelia if he had seen her; she was not stunningly beautiful and the old Alexander had had very high standards in regards to beauty. For once it did not seem fair to the young lady if she was only wanted because there was no one else.
“I don’t know! Oh damn my eyes! Richard, I need to visit her; will you help me?” Alexander appealed to his friend. His feelings were completely mixed up; he had no idea what he wanted to say to Amelia, but the thought of never speaking to her again, never being in her company again, terrified him like a whole sea full of French ships had not.
“I’ll do as you wish,” Richard promised, but he was not convinced that Alexander would feel so strongly about the chit if he had sight. He smiled to himself; only a few weeks ago he had been wary of Amelia; now he was concerned about his friend’s motivation. It would be poor of Alexander to raise the hopes of the girl. The complexities of relationships were enough to put a man off marriage forever.
*
Alexander had returned home and was ensconced in his study with Samson at his feet when the door opened and in walked his brother.