‘I imagined you would say that.’ Amelia nodded in agreement.‘ I think I should prefer that too—but do not ask me to explain.’ She looked up at him. ‘If I thought I knew the answers to your questions, I would tell you.’
‘Then I suppose I must be content to wait.’ He reached for her hand and kissed it. ‘You are not regretting anything?’
‘Certainly not. I am looking forward to our wedding,’ Amelia told him. ‘Besides, Lisa would be hurt if I changed my mind at this late stage, would she not? And now, if you will excuse me, I must go up for I shall almost certainly be late otherwise.’
She smiled and ran up the stairs, leaving him to continue on his way. Gerard thought she was hiding something from him, but it was not so. There were a few things that made no sense—and a feeling that had been growing on her that someone was lying to her.
The problem was that, for the moment, she could not be certain who had lied and who had spoken truly. She might know more once Helene had spoken to Max.
Gerard was thoughtful after he left Amelia. She had put up the barriers again, shutting him out. He had thought when they kissed that she was truly able to put the past behind them, believing that she still felt much of the passion she had when they were first engaged. Now he had begun to wonder.
Amelia had been giving him some odd looks. She had changed in the last day or so, as if she were no longer sure of her feelings for him.
When she entered the bedroom, Martha was folding some clothes and packing them into a large trunk. She looked a little put out and Amelia guessed
the cause, but the maid did not complain, merely coming to assist her as Amelia began to change for the evening.
‘The tisane you made for Emily last evening—-was it the same as you make for me?’
‘Yes, Miss Royston. Just an infusion of herbs and a little honey to sweeten it.’ Martha gave her a direct stare. ‘There was nothing in it to make her sick. I know my herbs, miss, and I would not make a mistake.’
‘Did someone imply there might be a mistake?’
‘It was suggested that I might have made the infusion of herbs too strong. There was no mistake, Miss Royston.’ The maid frowned. ‘But I shan’t tell tales so don’t ask me.’
‘No, I am certain that you did not make a mistake, for you never do.’ Amelia smiled at her. ‘Tell me, Martha—what do you think of Miss Barton?’
‘She is a pleasant young lady and always helpful…’ Martha set her mouth. ‘And if you are going to ask what I think of Miss Ross…I would rather not say.’
‘Oh dear.’ Amelia smothered the urge to laugh. ‘Was she not helpful, Martha? I thought she would save you having so much work to do since Emily is not well enough to do her own packing.’
‘The intention was there, miss—but I’ve had to unpack and start again or we should never find every-thing again. I have an order to my work, Miss Royston. Pushing things in anywhere will not do for me.’
‘Then I shall go down and leave you to work in
peace. I am very sorry, Martha, but Miss Ross wanted to be of use and I thought it would be something for her to do.’
‘I
wish I were coming with you,’ Helene said as she kissed Amelia’s cheek the next morning. They were in the hall and Amelia was about to leave. ‘Please promise me to take care of yourself.’
‘Of course I shall,’ Amelia said and embraced her. ‘Was Max able to answer the question I asked?’
‘He said to tell you it was three.’ Helene looked puzzled. ‘I do not see how that helps you, Amelia.’
‘I assure you that it does. It is exactly as I suspected and the answer to a small mystery. Thank you, my love. You are not to worry about me.’
‘I shall try not to—though I would be happier if I knew what was going on.’
‘Nothing that need concern you, my dearest,’ Amelia said and squeezed her hand. ‘Truly, it is a mere trifle. I shall write and tell you everything when I can. I must go now. Gerard is impatient to be off.’
‘You haven’t quarrelled with him? He seems…a
little odd. I thought he might be angry about something.’
‘I dare say he is merely anxious. I fear we are a little at odds, but that may be my fault. He thinks I am keeping something from him—and, truthfully, I am.’
‘Amelia! What are you about?’
‘Believe me, there is nothing to worry you, Helene.’
Amelia pressed her hand and went out to the waiting carriage. Marguerite was already inside, clearly ready to leave. Emily was sitting in one corner, looking pale, dark shadows be neath her eyes and clutching a kerchief soaked with healing lavender water. The scent of it wafted through the carriage, but was quite pleasant. Amelia had asked earlier if she would like to stay on at Coleridge for a while, but she had refused, insisting that she was well enough to make the journey.
Gerard gave Amelia his hand to help her inside, but said nothing, his mouth set in a grim line. He moved away as the groom put up the steps and turned to mount his horse. Lisa was travelling in the second coach with her nurse and Martha.
‘I fear the earl grows angry, Amelia. He seems impatient to get away.’ Marguerite’s words broke Amelia’s reverie.
‘Yes. I believe he wishes to be home by this evening.’
‘I wonder that you can bear his ill humour…’ Marguerite clapped a gloved hand to her mouth. ‘Forgive me. I should not have said that…I am sure it is simply a natural impatience to be home. Yet it is not pleasant to live with a man of uncertain temper.
My father is such a man and I have suffered from his rages.’
‘I am sorry for that, my dear.’
‘I have learned to accept it, but I should not wish you to be unhappy, Amelia. Many ladies are unhappy in their marriages, I think. Men are so faithless—at least many are.’
‘Yes, I believe so.’ Amelia was silent for a moment. ‘Gerard can seem harsh at times, I know, though he is usually good natured.’
‘Yes, of course. I did not mean to imply…’ Mar-guerite looked as if she wanted to say more, but was apprehensive. ‘You will bring so much to the marriage; he must surely be grateful. Of course he would never do anything to harm you.’
‘No, he would not. Why should he?’
‘I meant nothing. My words were ill considered and foolish.’ Marguerite fiddled with her gloves, twisting them nervously in her hands and then putting them on. ‘I hope I have not offended.’
‘I told you when you came that you might say anything to me. If you have something to say about the earl, please do so now.’
‘Oh, no…’ Marguerite shookher head. ‘One hears rumours, of course—but I would never repeat anything I did not know for sure.’
‘It is always best not to do so. Perhaps I know the rumour you speak of—concerning his wife?’
‘Well, yes, I did hear something about the way she died.’ She glanced at Emily, who was holding her kerchief to her nose. ‘I am not sure who told me.’
‘You ought not listen to gossip,’ Amelia said and frowned. ‘I hope you will forget it—the earl did nothing to harm Lisette.’
‘No? Then it was a malicious lie and I am glad I did not repeat it to anyone.’
Marguerite sat back against the squabs, her expression subdued. Obviously, she felt that she had spoken out of turn. She ought not to have repeated gossip, of course. Amelia was glad that Gerard had told her how his wife died, otherwise she might have wondered.
Marguerite had hinted several times that Gerard might be marrying her because of her for tune. Amelia had not considered it, because he had told her that he was not interested in her money. She did not know why Marguerite seemed to dislike Gerard, but she was afraid there was some resentment on Marguerite’s part. At the beginning neither one had been prepared to admit they had met before, though later both had remembered that they had known each other in the past.
What did Marguerite know that Amelia didn’t? What was she hinting at when she suggested that men were unfaithful?
Amelia frowned. Gerard had left her without a word that summer. He said it was because her brother had warned him off, but could she be certain he had not left for another reason entirely? He had sworn he loved her that summer, but within a few months he had married Lisette.
Had he truly loved Amelia? Or was the truth that he had never—and could never—love anyone? Was he the kind of man who loved lightly and moved on?
No! It was wicked of her to think such things. She did not know why she had allowed the thoughts to creep in. She would put them from her mind at once.
It was late in the evening when they arrived at Ravenshead. However, lights blazed in all the front windows, for the candles had been lit in anticipation of their arrival. The butler and housekeeper came out to welcome them, and Gerard’s servants were lined up inside the house to meet them. Amelia was introduced to them all and then the housekeeper took her, Emily and Marguerite up to their rooms.
‘I’ve put Miss Ross in one of the guest rooms, as the earl instructed,’ Mrs Mowbray said when they were alone. ‘Miss Barton has a room nearer the nursery. I hope that is acceptable?’
‘Yes, of course—though perhaps…’ Amelia shook her head. If Gerard had asked for the rooms to be allocated that way, she would not interfere. She had hardly glanced at the hall downstairs, though she had received an impression of marble tiles on the floor and elegant mahogany furniture, but here she was aware that the décor was new and the colour variations of the pale aquamarine she liked so much. ‘Have these rooms been recently refurbished?’
‘The earl had them done in October, Miss Royston. I hope you will be comfortable here?’
‘Yes, thank you—they are everything I could wish.’
Amelia sighed and took off her bonnet and pelisse. She had come straight up to her apartments so had
not taken them off in the hall. It was obvious that Gerard had had the rooms done specially for her. She wished that she could thank him in the way she would like, but something warned her that she must be careful.
She was exploring the bedchamber, discovering the space in the large armoire, when she heard something behind her. Turning, she saw that Gerard had entered through the dressing-room door. For a moment she was surprised, then realised that these apartments had been planned for when they married. As long as the key was his side, he could come and go as he pleased.
‘Gerard…you startled me. I was not aware that we had adjoining apartments.’
‘You do not object? Should I have knocked at the hall door?’
‘No, of course not. It will be convenient when we wish to talk.’
‘And at other times…’ Gerard moved closer. He reached out to touch her cheek. ‘We spoke of being together in a special way when we came to Ravens-head? You have not changed your mind?’
‘I think we should be careful for the moment.’ Amelia saw his quick frown. ‘I have good reason for what I do and say, Gerard—but please do not doubt my feelings for you.’
‘I do not understand you…’ Gerard began, but someone knocked at the door. Amelia gave him a little push towards the dressing room. He went through and closed the door.
‘Just a moment,’ Amelia called. ‘Come in, please.’
The door opened and then Marguerite entered. She glanced round, her eyes absorbing the décor. ‘What a beautiful room, Amelia. Did I hear voices? I am sorry if I interrupted something…’
‘You did not,’ Amelia replied. ‘Did you need something, Marguerite?’
‘Nothing. I have a very adequate room. I merely came to see if I might be of service to you?’
‘Martha will see to my unpacking. I am ready to go down if you are, Marguerite. Mrs Mowbray will have a light supper prepared for us, I am sure. Emily told us that she requires no supper so we shall leave her to rest for the moment.’
‘Well, if you are certain I can do nothing,’ Marguerite said and turned to leave. ‘Just remember that I am always ready to help you. Especially as Emily is not well enough to run errands for you. If ever you are unhappy or in distress, you may rely on me for help.’
‘I am sure you will make yourself indispensable,’ Amelia told her with a smile. ‘I am very pleased you came to me, Marguerite—and I am sure Lisa adores you already.’
‘She is a pretty little thing and she has good manners. I dare say she is very like her mother.’
‘Yes, perhaps. I suppose you did not know her mama?’
Marguerite looked startled for a moment, then shook her head. ‘She was French, was she not? I have few friends, Amelia. You know that it was almost impossible for me to meet anyone after Lucinda…’ Her
voice cracked on a little sob. ‘Mama and Papa broke their hearts when she died. She was so foolish. She should have named her seducer and faced her shame. He might have been forced to marry her. His desertion broke her heart.’ Marguerite’s eyes flashed with sudden anger. ‘If I could, I would make him pay for what he did to her.’
‘She would not tell me his name. Did she never say anything to you, Marguerite?’
‘She hinted once or twice…’ Marguerite shook her head. ‘I do not know his name, Amelia—just that it was a gentleman we all knew. Someone who ought to have known better than to seduce an innocent girl.’
‘That is a wide field. I was so sorry when Lucinda took her own life.’
‘If she did…’ Marguerite’s eyes flashed with sudden anger. ‘How can we be sure that she did kill herself?’
‘I thought there was no doubt?’
‘I have sometimes thought…’ Marguerite hesitated. ‘Just before she died she was happy. She hinted that she might have something exciting to tell me soon…and then she disappeared and they dragged her body from the river. Her dress had been torn and…a ring she had been wearing had gone from her hand. I think her lover gave her the ring and…I suspect he took it from her before he…killed her…’
‘Marguerite!’ Amelia stared at her in horror. Prickles of ice danced along her spine. ‘You think her lover killed her—but why?’
‘I know he killed her! Even if she had taken her
own life it would have been his fault. He would still have been her murderer,’ Marguerite said bitterly. ‘She was but a child and he took advantage. I think when she threatened to reveal his name, he pushed her into the river and watched her drown. She could not swim.’
‘How can you know that? You do not even know his name.’
‘I know most of what happened.’ Marguerite lifted her head defiantly. Something flickered in her eyes. ‘If I knew his name…I should not rest until he was punished.’
Amelia touched her arm. ‘I understand your pain and distress, but hate will not bring her back, Mar-guerite. You cannot change the past.’
‘I have suffered for her stupid lack of morality. If she had behaved as she ought, none of this would have happened. Why did she give herself to a faithless rogue? She ruined her own life and mine.’
‘You must try to forget it. You are here now, Mar-guerite. You will meet my friends and Gerard’s. You have every opportunity to find happiness.’
‘My parents would not allow me to marry.’
‘I think they might if it was a good match,’ Amelia said. ‘I believe I might be able to persuade them if you found someone you thought you could love.’
‘Men are not to be trusted,’ Marguerite flashed at her. ‘They seduce you with their smiles and sweet words and then they destroy your life. Be careful who you trust, Amelia. Even marriage does not mean you are guaranteed happiness.’
‘Are you suggesting that the earl can not be trusted?’
‘His first wife was unhappy enough to take her own life…’ Marguerite said and then put a hand to her mouth in horror. ‘I should not have said that…now you will send me home. Yet it is true and you should be careful, Amelia. Be sure that he truly cares for you or you may be hurt too.’
‘No, I shall not send you home,’ Amelia said, looking at her steadily. ‘Tellme, do you really believe that Lisette’s death happened because Gerard made her unhappy? Are you saying that he was cruel to her?’
‘I only know what someone told me.’ Marguerite looked at her oddly. ‘What do you think, Amelia? Why would she take her own life if she were happy?’
‘I know the truth of it and I know it was not Gerard’s fault,’ Amelia said. ‘But perhaps I shall ask him about it again.’
‘You should.’ Marguerite gripped her wrist. ‘For your own sake, Amelia. I should be so sorry if something were to happen to you because of him.’
‘You are hurting me.’
‘Forgive me. I did not realise what I did…’
Amelia drew away and Marguerite let go of her wrist. Amelia rubbed at it. ‘There is nothing to forgive. I know you are thinking of me—but we shall not speak of this again.’
‘I am sorry. You have been so good to me. I had no right to speak but I care about you.’
‘I know you do.’ Amelia smiled at her. ‘Do not look so anxious, Marguerite. I am not going to send you away.’
‘You are too forgiving,’ Marguerite said. ‘People take advantage of you. Emily told me what you did for Lady Pendleton and Lady Coleridge.’
‘Had I known how unhappy you were, I should have asked for your company before this,’ Amelia told her. ‘However, it is not too late for you to make a new life. Nothing that has happened so far should make it impossible for you to find happiness—if you can let go of the past.’
Marguerite stared at her in silence. Amelia nodded at her encouragingly, hoping she might respond to the invitation, but Marguerite turned her face away, going ahead of her down the stairs.