‘He was shocked, that is all. I am sure that when he has recovered from his…’ Amelia paused, searching for the right word.
‘Disappointment?’ Emily lifted her head. ‘I saw it in his eyes, Amelia. He was stunned, disappointed, even revolted—I think he could not bear the idea that I had been with another man.’
‘It must have been upsetting for him, but he may have thought you had a love child, Emily. You must try to understand that he had put you on a pedestal. He may have misunderstood you. He may think that you took a lover. You must tell him the truth.’
‘I could not! I do not think I could bear to face him again.’
‘Emily dearest,’ Amelia said, ‘I understand that it would be too difficult for you to tell him every-thing—but I could speak to him. I could explain how badly your family treated you. I am hopeful that once he has had time to think about things he will still wish to marry you.’
‘No! Please do not,’ Emily begged, a sob in her voice. ‘I cannot bear to speak of it.’ She jumped to her feet and ran into her own bedroom, shutting the door and locking it be hind her.Amelia knocked at the door.
‘Emily. Please listen to me. You must not let this destroy you. If Mr Sinclair truly loves you it will all come right. Do not throw away your chance of happiness too soon.’
‘Please do not ask me to see him. I shall not come down this evening.’
‘Emily…’
Amelia sighed as she heard a renewal of wild sobbing from her companion. In the hall downstairs the longcase clock was chiming the hour. She realised with a start that she would be late for dinner. She must hurry and change her clothes. Emily would come to her senses when she had cried herself to sleep. In the morning they would talk about things calmly—and she would have
a few words with Mr Sinclair. If he had behaved as badly as Emily claimed, he was not the gentleman she had thought him!
Amelia apologised to the company when she joined them in the drawing room. She spoke to Susannah, telling her that Emily had a headache and would not be joining them that evening.
‘I am so sorry.’ Susannah was concerned. ‘I hope it is nothing serious. Should we send for the doctor?’
‘No, I am sure that will not be necessary,’ Amelia told her. ‘I am sorry if Emily’s absence has unbalanced your dining table.’
‘As it happens she is not the only guest missing,’ Susannah replied. ‘Toby Sinclair received a message from home and left us two hours ago. His parents had not joined us for Christmas because Mr Sinclair was feeling a little unwell. He had insisted that his son join his friends, but perhaps he has taken a turn for the worse. Toby seemed in a strange mood. He was abrupt—distant—and that is not like him…not like him at all. Harry thinks that his brother-in-law must be quite ill to send for his son.’
‘I am sorry to hear it. Illness in the family is distressing, especially at this time of the year.’
‘Had it been at any other time Harry would have gone to his sister immediately, but we cannot desert our guests. Lady Elizabeth is staying with her daughter this Christmas, so Harry’s sister will not be completely alone should anything happen.’
‘We must hope that it is not serious.’ Amelia was
thoughtful as she joined the guests moving into the long dining room. If Toby Sinclair had received bad news, it was understandable that he had left—but he ought to have left a note for Emily.
Gerard came to offer her his arm. ‘You look serious, Amelia. Is something wrong?’
‘Emily has a headache. I am sure she will be better in the morning.’
‘I am sorry she is unwell. I understand that Toby has taken himself off in a hurry—there wouldn’t be a connection?’
‘Perhaps—but I cannot tell you, for it is not my secret.’
‘Then you must keep it.’ He paused, then, ‘I have spoken to Lisa’s nurse and looked at the doll. It is not the same as the one I had sent to me. I believe it may just be a coincidence—I must hope so, otherwise it would be serious. If I believed the child was threatened, I should take her back to France.’
‘I think we must talk about this matter. I know your opinion—but I am not sure.’ Amelia shook her head as his brows lifted. ‘We shall not discuss this tonight. The morning will be soon enough, but I must tell you that I believe your theory about my brother may be wrong.’
‘Yes, you may be correct. We shall talk tomorrow, Amelia. We must make arrangements for the future and discuss this other business.’
‘Yes, the morning will be time enough. We shall enjoy this evening, for Susannah has gone to so much trouble for us all.’
T
hroughout dinner Gerard was very aware of the woman sitting beside him. She was lovely, but more than that she had an air of serenity, a presence that was lacking in so many other ladies. He was not certain why she had accepted his proposal of marriage. Was it only that she wished to be married and felt comfortable in his presence? They were good friends and shared an interest in many things. Marriage to Amelia would, he had no doubt, be pleasant and comfortable whatever the case, but he was not looking for someone to place his slippers by the fire and arrange for his favourite meals to be served. He wanted so much more! He wanted a woman who would welcome him to her bed with open arms.
The scent of her perfume was intoxicating. She seemed to smell of flowers and yet there was a subtle fragrance that was all her own. The sight of her, the way she turned her head, the way she moved, her
voice…her smile…all these things set him on fire with longing. He wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her that very night, but was not sure that she would welcome a show of passion.
Amelia’s manner gave little away. Her first reaction to his proposal had seemed positive, but since then she had become more reserved. He was not sure why. The incident at the church had been upsetting, of course—but he did not think Amelia would allow that to upset her. She had insisted that she wished to go on with the engagement.
Was it something in Gerard himself that had caused her to withdraw? He knew that his rejection of Lisette the night she had crept into his bed had been the reason for her desperate unhappiness. He had not been able to tell Amelia that he had rejected Lisette’s attempt to ask for his love. After her death he had regretted his curt manner that night. He had married her on a whim, indulging his sense of honour and pity—and he had still been angry with Amelia and her brother. Later, when he began to realise that there was only one woman he wanted despite what had happened, he had regretted the impulse that had urged him to wed a woman he did not know or love. However, he had meant to honour his promise, but, in rejecting Lisette when she tried to give herself to him, he had hurt her. He believed it was his rejection that had driven her to take her own life. Perhaps there was more, perhaps he was incapable of making a woman happy…
‘Susannah is a wonderful hostess, is she not?’
Amelia remarked, breaking into his thoughts. ‘When I recall how anxious she was the first time she stayed here, I cannot believe how much she has matured.’
‘Harry seems very content with his family,’ Gerard replied. He smiled inwardly, wondering if Amelia guessed how aroused he was when she turned to him and made some intimate remark. It was fortunate that the table hid the evidence of his intense need at that moment. He must think of other things!
Several times since the incident outside the church he had wondered if he had placed Amelia’s life in danger by proposing. Harry was aware of his anxious thoughts and had been forthright in his opinion.
‘I have no idea who this enemy of yours is, Gerard—but to give in to him would be more dangerous, believe me. If it is Royston, Amelia would be at his mercy, and if it is not…’ He shook his head and frowned. ‘She would never truly be safe—and nor, my friend, would you.’
‘Then we are working in the dark. I have searched my memory for someone I have offended, but I can think of no one—at least, no one who would think it worthwhile to kill Amelia simply to spite me. I am still of the opinion that the plotter is Royston.’
‘You may well be right, but Susannah is very close to Amelia. She thinks that Amelia is doubtful about her brother being the culprit.’
‘It would be hard for any woman to accept such an idea,’ Gerard said. ‘I have not tried to impress my feelings on her, but for the moment I can see no other reason for the attempt on her life.’
Gerard felt Amelia’s loss keenly when the ladies retired to the drawing room to take tea. He wished that he could follow at once, but custom dictated that he remain with the gentlemen to drink port and discuss politics and sport. When the gentlemen at last made their move towards the drawing room, Harry invited him to play a game of billiards. Not wanting to offend his friend, he agreed.
They had been playing for half an hour or so when he caught the smell of the perfume he always associated with Amelia and turned to see her watching them. The wistful expression he surprised in her eyes set him wondering. Was she wishing that they might be alone? Did she burn to be in his arms? He realised that despite their long friendship he hardly knew her. Gerard well remembered the passionate girl who would have given herself to him one never-forgotten night—but who was she now? Beautiful, serene, sophisticated, she was surrounded by friends, loved by those who knew her best, envied by many—but who was the woman behind the mask? How did she really feel about their marriage? He wished he knew.
‘I came to say goodnight,’ she said. ‘I must see if Emily is feeling better. I shall speak to you in the morning, Gerard—shall we say at nine?’
‘If that is not too early for you.’ He inclined his head, then went to her, taking her hand and turning it to drop a kiss into the palm. ‘Sleep well, my dearest. I hope you find Miss Barton much recovered.’
‘Thank you.’ Amelia smiled as she bid both men goodnight and then walked from the room.
‘You know that I shall be happy to stand up with you at your wedding,’ Harry said and lined up a coloured ball, striking it with the white so that it rolled into the pocket. ‘Have you agreed the day yet?’
‘We are thinking of a month after the ball at Coleridge,’ Gerard said. ‘I hope that I am doing the right thing…if I thought I was putting Amelia’s life in danger by marrying her…’
‘If you have an enemy, we shall find him out,’ Harry said and potted another ball. ‘I have told my men to be on the lookout for strangers, but I doubt that whoever it was the other night will try anything more just yet. I have been wondering if that shot was just another warning.’
‘We cannot even be certain that the target is Amelia…’ Gerard frowned, missing his ball. His heart was not in the game. All he could think about was Amelia. He wanted her so badly. He would be a fool to let whoever was threatening her have his way.
Amelia sighed as she went into the private sitting room she shared with Emily. She wished that she might have had more time alone with Gerard that evening, but it was not possible. There were so many guests staying and she was acquainted with all of them; mere politeness decreed that she must spend a little time with as many as she could.
She saw that her blue cloak with the fur lining was lying on one of the chairs. She had told Emily that she might wear it that morning, because the weather had turned so cold and she had her new black one, which was even more sumptuously lined. Emily must have left it lying there. That was unusual, for she was by habit a tidy girl. Amelia’s maid knew that she had loaned the cloak to her companion and had left it where it was instead of putting it away as she normally would.
Amelia went to her companion’s door and knocked softly. ‘Are you awake, dearest? Is your headache still bad? Would you like to talk to me about anything?’
There was no reply. Amelia did not persist; she did not wish to wake Emily if she was sleeping. She knew that it was Emily’s heart that ached rather than her head, and she felt annoyed with Toby Sinclair. Really, she had thought better of him! Surely he could have accepted that Emily had had a child? It was shocking, but not the crime some thought it, in Amelia’s opinion, especially since Emily had been forced. Toby might at least have asked her about the circumstances. Obviously, he had wanted to get home quickly after the news that his father’s health had taken a turn for the worse, but he could have left a note for Emily. To leave her without a word—to run away like a disappointed schoolboy—was not what Amelia would have expected from him.
If he really could not face the fact that Emily had given birth to a child, even though she was forced
and not willing, he could have found a way of telling her. To simply abandon her like this was so hurtful. It was no wonder that Emily had taken to her bed this evening. She was suffering from a broken heart.
Amelia went to her own bedchamber. She allowed her maid to undo the hooks at the back of her gown and then dismissed her. She sat down at her dressing table, picked up her brush, but then just stared at her mirror.
She was anxious about Emily. The girl was assured of a position with her for as long as she needed it, but there was very little she could do to help with the pain of a disappointment in love. Amelia had once suffered much as her companion was suffering now. She had not even known why Gerard had gone away without speaking to her or telling her he was leaving. For years she had alternated between distress and disappointment at his desertion, but then she had finally understood that her brother was to blame. Michael had acted in a high-handed, ruthless manner, not caring who he hurt!
He had not been a good brother to her. Indeed, there were times when she had come close to hating him. His last letter had been a hateful tirade about her selfishness towards her family that had left her in tears—but would he truly wish her dead so that he could get his hands on her fortune?
Amelia shuddered at the thought. They had quarrelled so many times, but although she had sensed violence in him he had never actually harmed her—except by sending Gerard away.
Her thoughts turned to the man she had never
ceased to love. She had thought there was something of the man she had known when she was young in him that evening…a simmering passion that had made her catch her breath.
She longed for him to want her, to love her—need her, as she loved and desired him. Was she a fool to believe that their marriage could work? If all he truly wanted was a complaisant wife who would care for his child, he might feel cheated when he realised that she was in love with him.
It must not matter! She knew that a marriage that was not equal in love might lead to hurt in the years to come, but perhaps if she were careful to hide her feelings he need never know. He wanted a companion rather than a wife so that was what she would be. Besides, it would break her to leave him now. If she waited, gave him time to know her, he might begin to feel the passion he had once had for her.
Smiling a trifle ruefully, Amelia went to bed. She might be foolish, but she thought that she had seen passion in Gerard’s eyes that evening…
Amelia slept a little later than usual. She was woken by her maid pulling back the curtains and yawned, sitting up and blinking at the bright light.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was half past eight. ‘Has it been snowing again, Martha?’
‘Yes, Miss Royston. It has stopped now, but I believe there was a heavy fall last night.’
‘What have you brought me this morning?’
‘I thought you might like a light repast in bed
instead of going down to the breakfast room. Since you slept in, Miss Royston—’
‘How thoughtful you are,’ Amelia said. ‘I shall need some warm water at once for I have an appointment at nine this morning.’
‘I should have woken you sooner, miss—but you were so peaceful.’
‘I have half an hour; it is plenty of time if I hurry.’
‘I will fetch the water now, miss.’
‘Oh…’ Amelia said as the girl turned away. ‘Have you seen Miss Barton this morning?’
‘No, miss. I went into her room to ask if she wished for breakfast in bed, but she was not there. Her bed had been made, but Miss Barton often makes her bed.’
‘Yes, she does, because she is a thoughtful girl,’ Amelia said. She broke a piece of the soft roll, buttered it and ate a piece as she poured a cup of the dark, slightly bitter chocolate she liked to drink when she indulged in breakfast in bed. It was not often she did so and wished she might linger longer this morning, but she did not want to be late for her meeting with Gerard.
By the time Martha returned with her hot water, Amelia had finished her roll and her cup of chocolate. She washed hastily and dressed in a simple morning gown that she could fasten herself. For once she left her hair hanging loose on her shoulders, merely brushing it back from her face and securing it with a comb at either side. Since she scarcely glanced at herself, she had no idea that she
looked much younger and more like the girl she had been when she first met Gerard.
The beautiful mahogany longcase clock in the hall had just finished striking when Amelia went downstairs. She found that Gerard was waiting for her. He looked handsome, elegant in his coat with three layers of capes across the shoulders, his topboots so glossy that you might see your reflection in them. He was frowning, but as she called to him he turned and smiled. Amelia’s heart did a somersault, leaving her breathless for one moment. She truly thought that he had the most compelling eyes of any gentleman of her acquaintance and they seemed very intent as he looked at her.
‘Forgive me if I have kept you. I slept later than usual and did not think to ask my maid to wake me. I am normally up much earlier.’
‘We have all been keeping late hours at Pendleton. I should have suggested ten rather than nine, but I thought we should be sure of being alone. I have the carriage waiting…’
‘We have not been much alone,’ Amelia said as they went outside together. ‘I have been thinking about what happened the other night outside the church, Gerard.’
‘I have thought of it constantly.’ His eyes dwelled on her face for some moments. ‘We shall talk in the carriage. I would not care to be overheard.’
‘Surely here there is no one that would wish us harm?’
‘Our friends would not,’ Gerard agreed, taking her arm and leading her out to the carriage. He helped her inside and she found that a warm brick had been brought so that she might place her feet on it, and a thick rug provided for her knees. ‘I hope you will be comfortable, Amelia. It is a bitterly cold day.’
‘I dare say your coachman will feel it, but we shall not be out long.’
‘Coachman has his comforts, a warm coat and a blanket, I am sure,’ Gerard told her. ‘You say that we are safe here with friends and to a certain degree I concur, but servants talk—and sometimes they pass on information for money without realising what harm they may do.’