Tobias held the book a bit tighter. Barely three months had passed this for barely three months before Edward had begun systematically breaking her spirit.
8th September, 1823
Edward complained about the flowers I’d put in the house today. It was a waste of money, he said. I wanted to tell him that the roses were to celebrate our six-month anniversary. That I had hoped they might make him smile. Instead, I nodded and promised to be more frugal.
He did not remember the date.
Page after page revealed how marriage had slowly broken Amelia down. With each new entry, he could see how her attempts to reach Edward, to find warmth in their marriage, where gradually withering beneath his systematic criticism.
Then Tobias reached an entry that made his breath arrest entirely.
2nd February, 1824
I am with child.
The midwife confirmed it this morning. I should be joyful—this is what everyone wanted, what Edward married me to achieve. An heir for Redmond Park.
Instead, I am terrified.
Mother died giving birth to me. I was her first and only child. The physicians said her body simply... gave up. That some women are not made for childbearing…
Tobias lowered the book ever so slightly. Did she even share these fears with anyone? Her husband, perhaps? She had been terrified.
12th July, 1824
The baby grows larger each day. I can feel its movements now—small flutters like butterfly wings beneath my heart.
I find myself talking to it when I am alone. Silly, perhaps, but I tell it about the gardens, about the books I love, about how much I already adore it though we have never met.
I wonder if my child will ever know warmth from their father. Oh, I hope so…
He let the book fall, anger suddenly coursing through him. How cruel had his brother been? This poor woman had tried everything… and for a second, a mad second, he was glad that his brother was gone.
Suddenly, Amelia seemed like a different person. She was no longer the composed widow who held everyone at arm’s lenght. She was a woman who had survived utter cruelty.
He stooped down a bit, putting the journal back where he had found it.
She must never know he had read this. She would never forgive him if she did.
But he would ensure that from this day forward, Amelia Grant understood her worth.
No matter what it cost him.
The library clock chimed three. He nodded slowly, then made his way back to his bedchamber, his voice quiet.
Dawn found him still awake, fury and determination warring in his chest as he waited for morning—for the moment when he could begin showing Amelia Grant that she deserved far more than she had ever received.
CHAPTER 8
“Mrs. Boldwood mentioned the eastern drawing room requires new draperies.”
Amelia looked up from the household ledger, startled to find Tobias standing in the doorway of the morning room. This was the third time today he had sought her out—first about the kitchen accounts, then regarding staff schedules, and now draperies. She set down her pen, studying him with carefully concealed curiosity.
Something had changed.
She was not certain what, precisely, but Tobias had become... different. The way he looked at her had softened somehow, as though he were handling something precious and easily broken. It was entirely… strange.
“The draperies,” she repeated, gathering her thoughts. “Yes, they have grown rather threadbare. I was planning to order new fabric from the mercer in Canterbury next week.”
