“Hm?” Amelia raised a brow at her maid. Jenny kept her brown eyes trained ahead, her cheeks coloring as if she had spoken out of turn. Amelia kept up with Jenny’s long strides, the rooms they were passing by already familiar to her. They were approaching the east wing now, she understood, which Amelia knew would be open to guests when they visited.
“I…well…” Jenny seemed to struggle with her words.
“There is no need to hold back now,” Amelia said with a soft laugh, hoping that would put Jenny at ease.
It worked, a little. “It’s just Mrs. Jones. She’s a bit worried about you.”
“Mrs. Jones?” Amelia struggled to place the name. “The housekeeper?”
“Yes, Your Grace. She worries that you are unwell, or perhaps that you are unhappy, since you have barely left your chambers and hardly eat.”
“Oh. I did not even consider that my actions were affecting others.” Amelia felt a pinch of guilt. “Well, since I am neither sick nor unhappy, I suppose I should make more of an effort to take care of myself, if only to ease the worries of others.”
“And His Grace— he must be worried too,” Jenny gently added.
Amelia coughed suddenly at the mention of Gideon. Jenny regarded her curiously as they stalled to a halt, but Amelia was quick to regain her composure. “I’m not so sure about that,” she responded, avoiding her maid’s eyes. She attempted to change the topic, gesturing down a staircase that would lead to the ground floor of the east wing. “Here we are, aren’t we?”
Jenny took a moment to answer. “Yes, Your Grace. This wing includes two quaint libraries, a parlor, and a small ballroom. I believe this wing was used for hosting guests.” She began descending the stairs, pausing on the half-landing to open a tall, rosewood door. “This is one of the libraries, the smaller of the two.”
Amelia stepped over the threshold, eyes sweeping the room. It was indeed small, but she instantly felt at home. A subtle smile touched her lips as she wandered by the bookshelves, perusing the titles tucked within. She came to a stop in front of a table tucked in the corner, adorned with vases and candleholders.
“Jenny, could you join me for a moment?” Amelia called, her voice laden with excitement as a thought crossed her mind. Jenny was by her side in no time at all, frowning as Amelia began to clear items from the table. “Lend me a hand, will you?”
Jenny did so without a word and together, they swiftly emptied the table. Amelia then positioned herself at one end, bracing herself before lifting and tugging at the table with all her might.It shifted against the oak wood floor. “Your Grace!” Jenny cried out. “You might hurt yourself!”
“I shan’t if you help,” Amelia said with a playful grin. “If I pull it away from the corner, you can help lift the other end.” She tugged again and the heavy table fell prey to her force, moving further away from the wall.
Jenny still wore a deep frown of worry but she quietly slipped into place on the other side of the desk. Together, they managed to lift the table. Amelia guided her over to an open window. They set the table down and Amelia pushed a potted plant out of the way to make more space for the desk. Once she was satisfied with its placement, she turned her attention to a leather elbow chair that had been sitting in front of the hearth. With Jenny hovering, Amelia managed to bring it over to the desk, setting it next to the window as well.
Satisfied with her hard work, she collapsed into the chair with a sigh. “Isn’t this just perfect?” she mused. “Now I can write while enjoying the view from outside.”
Jenny looked surprised, as if she hadn’t even considered the point of all their hard work. “Yes, you’re right,” she agreed, sounding a little awed.
Amelia didn’t want to abandon her little nook but she finally got the strength to stand, allowing Jenny to continue the tour. But now, she thought about the library—what now felt likeherlibrary—the entire time, wondering when she would be able to return.
Over an hour later, a maid interrupted their exploration to inform them that the Duke had returned and was requesting Amelia’s presence. Jenny waited until the maid had departed to ask, “Should we return to your bedchamber to finish getting ready, Your Grace?”
Amelia barely managed to nod before the weight of her task settled on her once more. She didn’t want to see Gideon. She didn’t want to face these unusual emotions that kept plaguing her whenever he was near. Hiding away from him made things simpler. The days could pass with ease and, once the four weeks were over, she would have what she truly wanted. There was really no need for them to see each other at all!
Amelia’s mind was far, far away as they returned to her bedchamber, where Jenny proceeded to sit her down at the vanity table, preparing to style her hair. It had been a long while since Amelia had someone else’s hands in her hair. The last time was before her father’s passing, when Dorothy would join Amelia in her chamber and brush her locks as they talked for hours on end. Those days were long behind her now, but the feel of Jenny’s fingers weaving through her chestnut strands made Amelia feel a little sentimental.
Just hold on a little longer, Dorothy. Only twenty-nine more days.
The entire process went by far too quickly for Amelia’s liking. By the end of it, Jenny had softly curled her hair and elegantly pinned up most of it at the back of her head, leaving a few rogue tendrils framing her face. It was a little better than what Ameliahad ever managed on herself and, for a moment, she felt rather pretty. But then the overwhelming reminder of the fact that she was going to see Gideon pressed on her mind once more. It couldn’t get any worse than this, she thought.
Rising from her seat, Amelia did her best to stifle a deep sigh. “Where does His Grace wish to meet?” she inquired, her voice steady.
“In his bedchamber, Your Grace.”
She was wrong. Itmost certainlycould get worse.
CHAPTER 11
He hadn’t been to the Serpent’s Den in far too long and Gideon was starting to feel like he was losing sight of his mission. He leaned against the door of his balcony, folding his arms and releasing a deep sigh. Lewis had unveiled the identity of the final Serpent, and yet, Gideon had yet to take action. He was so close to fulfilling his revenge for his family that he could almost taste it… yet here he stood, waiting for the wife he never asked for.
Such are the ironies life throws my way,he thought ruefully. Now that Amelia was under his roof, he had to tread carefully. She knew who he was and, any misstep could lead her to revealing his true identity to the ton. She could easily shatter the image he had built up for years. And worst of all, she held the power to dismantle his retribution efforts against the Earls and Dukes who had once wronged his family. They would become martyrs at his expense.
The sound of his chamber door creaking open interrupted his thoughts, and a retort rushed to his tongue for whoever haddared to do so without knocking. But when he caught sight of Amelia stepping over the threshold, his annoyance vanished and something else, something far more carnal, took its place.
