Heat flooded Amelia’s cheeks with mortifying speed. She focused intently on gathering the biscuit crumbs, anything to avoid her cousin’s too-knowing gaze. “You imagine things. Tobias is protective of Henry. That’s all.”
“Henry.” Clara shook her head slowly. “Yes, I’m certain his murderous glares at every lord who asks you for a dance has everything to do with his nephew and nothing whatsoever to do with watching another man’s hand settle at your waist.”
“Clara, please?—”
“It’s all right, you know.” Clara’s thumb traced gentle circles across Amelia’s knuckles. “To feel something. To want something. You’ve spent so long being the perfect widow, the perfect mother, the perfect lady. But you’re also just... a woman. One who happens to be sharing a household with a man who is—let’s be honest—dreadfully handsome.”
“Clara!”
“Well, he is!” Her cousin’s laughter bubbled up again, irrepressible. “I’m not blind, even if society pretends we’re all supposed to be. Those eyes alone could make a saint contemplate sin. And that smile—the real one, not the practiced charm he wears in ballrooms?—”
“Stop.” Amelia pulled her hands free, pressing them against her burning cheeks. “This is entirely inappropriate. He’s my late husband’s brother. It isn’t... it wouldn’t be...”
“Right?” Clara supplied gently. “Proper? Appropriate?”
“Yes. Exactly.” Relief flooded through her that Clara understood that she didn’t need to explain further.
But Clara merely tilted her head, studying Amelia with an expression of such tender understanding it made something in her chest crack. “No, perhaps not. Society would certainly have opinions. But tell me honestly, Amelia—not what’s proper. Not what the matrons would whisper or what Edward would have wanted. You.”
Amelia frowned. No one had ever asked her this. And to make matters worse, the question was loaded for another reason. Because what she wanted… she could never have.
“I want...” Her throat closed around the words. “I want my son’s future secure. That’s all.”
The lie tasted like ash. And from Clara’s knowing look, they both recognized it for exactly what it was.
“Of course,” her cousin said softly. “Henry’s future. How very practical.”
Silence settled between them, broken only by the ticking of the mantle clock and the distant sounds of London traffic filtering through the windows. Clara picked up her teacup again, studying Amelia over its rim with eyes that saw far too much.
“You know,” she said at last, her tone deliberately light, “Lord Ashbourne seems quite taken with you. Excellent family, impeccable reputation, all those grown children scattered about. He’d make a very good match.”
“Yes. I suppose he would.”
“How was the promenade in Hyde Park?”
In truth, Amelia thought, it was perfectly boring. There was nothing wrong with the Lord. He was perfectly kind and a gentleman. But she could not help but notice that he reminded her far more of Edward than Tobias did.
He was… she supposed proper.
“It was… perfectly adequate. He would… indeed be a suitable match.”
“Suitable.” Clara’s smile turned slightly sad. “What a perfectly bloodless word. Though I suppose that’s what we’re all meant to aspire to, isn’t it? Suitable matches with suitable gentlemen who inspire suitably tepid feelings.”
“Clara—”
“I’m not criticizing, darling. Truly.” She set down her cup and rose, gathering her gloves and reticule with practiced efficiency. “I should go before I say something even more outrageous and scandalize you completely. Though before I do...” She paused, one hand resting lightly on Amelia’s shoulder. “Remember that you’ve already been suitable once. You’ve already done your duty, married the appropriate gentleman, produced the required heir. Perhaps... perhaps this time you might consider what would make you happy rather than what would make society comfortable.”
She pressed a kiss to Amelia’s cheek and departed in a swirl of silk and subtle perfume, leaving Amelia alone in the suddenly quiet drawing room.
Her thoughts were a muddled mess. The Ton was gossiping about her protective brother-in-law, about her return to society, about everything…
She ought to allow Lord Ashbourne to court her, she decided. If she destroyed Tobias’s reputation… he could lose everything. Even if he weren’t looking at her in the manner Clara insinuated—and she was sure he did not. People were cruel.
The sooner she allowed a respectable gentleman to court her, the better. For her, for him… and most of all, for Henry.
CHAPTER 21
It was the thought of Henry that had her send Lord Ashbourne a letter, inviting him for tea that very afternoon. Ironically, it was the very same boy who would be the reason the tea was cancelled.
