She stood, eyes downcast. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll leave you to dress and we can meet in your brother’s room. We’ll think of something.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The knock echoedthroughout the house. Despite expecting it for the past thirty minutes, Amelia jolted in surprise. She still didn’t know what she was going to say. She had looked in on her brother and Graham, but she thought it better not to wake Sam—he needed all his rest, and it was about to be threatened once her aunt was inside. There hadn’t been time enough to form a real plan. She wanted Graham to be with her, but she also wanted him to remain with Sam.
Graham rose but she held up a hand. “Stay.” Whatever came next, she needed to do this on her own. She’d hardly slept after he’d left her room last night. He was right. He was always right. He had to leave for his own reasons, and she had to let him, because that was the right thing to do. Now Amelia had to face her aunt alone. That was the right thing to do, too.
She wouldn’t always have her brother as her shield. At her age, she didn’t want to need a shield. She’d relied on him—and lately Graham—so much already. She’d blamed them both for being overprotective, but what had she really done to earn her independence? She hadn’t done anything to change her circumstances. Truthfully, she liked her life. It was comfortable—too comfortable. Boredom had driven her to push boundarieswhen all she had to do was step outside her gilded cage and take responsibility for her own needs.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? Amelia wasn’t maturing like other women her age, marrying, having children. She had lived the same life for the last ten years. Frolicking in gardens, enjoying the benefits of her brother’s title. She’d taken it all for granted. She’d let the fear of leaving her brother’s side rule her choices.
Graham had opened her eyes.
She had to change, for Sam’s sake, for her own sake. To be the woman she wanted to be, she had to start now.
Her aunt and cousin bickered heatedly in the drawing room. Amelia paused outside to prepare her nerves. She knew what they were going to say. What she couldn’t decide was what her reaction should be. Should she act surprised? Tell the truth? Her stomach dropped at the thought. They would try to twist anything she said to their advantage.
The footman opened the door, and Amelia walked in. “Aunt Ruth, to what do I owe this early visit?” She blinked at the presence of Mr. Crest, her brother’s man of business. Why was he here with them? Graham had told her he’d sent for the man himself.
Her aunt darted forward, taking her hands. “Dearest, you must sit. We have terrible news to impart.” She tugged Amelia to the settee and crowded next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and cinching Amelia close to her side. Amelia fought the urge to roll her eyes.
Nelson remained quiet, his features fixed in a frown.
“What is it? Is everything all right?” she asked, deciding for the moment to let the conversation play out.
“Nelson, you know the facts. You tell her.” Her aunt sniffed and held a handkerchief to her nose.
“I heard from my acquaintances last evening and now it is in the papers, but you should hear it from family, not the gossip rags.” He paused, taking a deep breath, and Amelia began to see this for what it was. A performance.
“Yes?”
“Near the river, in a dangerous area, a man was found. He was a gentleman by all appearances, robbed, murdered, and disposed of. The only identification they have is a handkerchief with the Alston crest. Amelia, dear cousin. It looks to be Alston. He never made it out of the city.”
Amelia swallowed back bile as guilt stole her breath. It wasn’t possible, she knew that logically, but still, the image of him lying face down in the dirt appeared in her mind. Tears scalded her eyes, and she did not stop them from falling, but she shook her head. “It’s not Sam.”
“Amelia—” Nelson strode forward, kneeling before her and pulling her hand off her lap. “It is Alston. I was summoned. I viewed the body myself.”
“You’re wrong.” She pulled her hand free of his and stood.
“Dear, we understand this is a shock and you don’t want to believe it is true,” her aunt said.
Mr. Crest spoke up at last. “My lady, Mr. Clark summoned me to confirm the identity. I concur it is Lord Alston. Is that not why I was summoned here this morning?”
“You’re all cracked. My brother is fine—”
“You’re overset,” her aunt pressed. “She knows it’s true,” she said to Mr. Crest. “She’s always been spiritually connected with her twin.” Aunt Ruth stood with her arms open, as if Amelia would accept any form of comfort from her.
“I will thank you to stop trying to convince me my brother is dead, when he is no such thing.” Amelia spat.
“Unless Alston appears miraculously alive,” Nelson said, “we must accept that he is gone, no matter how difficult and painful it is.”
Amelia stepped back. The idea of telling them the truth, letting them in to see Sam and disturb him... it made her sick. The back of her mouth filled with acid. She would have to tell them enough to make them leave. Amelia fisted her hands and remembered the story they’d agreed upon.
“My brother returned last night. He is upstairs, in his bed, sleeping. Now, kindly get out.” Amelia pointed at the door. “Get out before I have you thrown out.”
Mr. Crest looked between the three of them with bewilderment. “I think I should leave while this private matter is sorted out.”
