Seth pushed Baroness Eastwick to arm’s length, stepping back from her.
“Excuse me, my lady,” he said formally, “I fear you have mistaken me for another.”
Seth was prepared for an outburst of temper at being rejected. He knew she would be embarrassed at being discovered. He did not expect the small, secretive smile.
“Not at all, Your Grace. I hope to see you again soon.”
She glanced over his shoulder.
“Your Lordship. Please excuse me, I must return home. I thank you for an excellent tea.”
Tewkesbury bowed deeply. “Thank you for coming,” he said awkwardly.
Baroness Eastwick swept from the room with head held high. After she had gone, Tewkesbury slapped Seth on the shoulder, startling him. Suddenly, the young man seemed very companionable, almost as though they were equals.
“Do not worry, Your Grace. Your secret is safe with me.”
CHAPTER 8
Another week passed, and Charlotte had still received no word from her sister. She had written two more letters and allowed enough time for both to be received. It felt strange to be addressing them to herself, and she could only hope that Amelia was receiving them, reading them. Why she wouldn’t reply was a mystery, but better than the prospect that her sister had never arrived at Hamilton House.
If that were the case, then she did not know where Amelia could be, let alone where to even begin looking for her.
“Do cheer up, Amelia. We are dining with your betrothed after all. And getting our first glimpse of Hillcrest, which is quite a famous residence,” Francis began.
Amelia sat next to her in the carriage. Claire and Aunt Phyllis sat opposite.
“I do hope that Reginald is able to join us. He works too hard,” Aunt Phyllis fretted.
“He has promised to attend. He was invited after all,” Claire put in distractedly, looking out of the window as they rumbled out westward from London, following the Thames out in the direction of Hampton Court. Small villages passed by frequently, separated by fields and meadows.
And what is Reginald working hard at? He is desperate to raise money for Victoria, but I do not know what business he is engaged in. Apparently, Amelia has lent him money before. Is he gambling with it?
Or perhaps Reginald was staying away out of anger because, in his eyes, Amelia had lied about not having the money to give to him. He thought she was toying with him or insulting him.
Might he say something that gives the game away?
Amelia was no longer enjoying thegame. The afternoon spent teaching the Dowager Countess to play Noddy had been excruciating. She had the impression that all present were laughing at her behind their hands and saw a jibe in every comment by the Dowager Countess.
Seth had remained to escort her home, but she had been in no mood to make conversation on the carriage ride. He himself seemed withdrawn and pensive, though she could not imagine what it was about.
I must try harder, for Amelia’s sake. Perhaps he is deciding he no longer wants to be betrothed to her. Until I hear from her, I must prevent that.
But was she doing that because she wanted to ensure Amelia had the choice when she returned of continuing with the betrothal, or because she enjoyed spending time in Seth’s company? He could be infuriating, but he was also handsome and magnetic in his charisma.
“You look quite flushed, Amelia,” Aunt Phyllis noted, “Claire, open the window on your side. Still, I should be glad to see color in your cheeks. It is better than a pallor.”
“Have I had a pallor, Aunt Phyllis?” Charlotte asked innocently.
“Decidedly. And picking at your food beside. Most concerning,” Aunt Phyllis shook.
Charlotte smiled and nodded while her insides were in knots. She remembered the sickness that had taken her mother. Could Amelia have been suffering from the same illness? But why suggest the switch if she were genuinely ill?
The carriage was turning off the road and into a driveway. It wound between tall, dark trees whose boughs met overhead. Presently, the house became visible. It was situated in a clearing with trees on all sides.
The house looked ancient, made of dark stone and leaded glass. It seemed to be brooding.
“Well, Hampton Court is far more pleasing to the eye than this dark place,” Francis commented.
