Hmm. He’d seen that going a bit differently in his head.
“Would you care for a stroll?” Edward asked. Women enjoyed those things as well, didn’t they?
“We were just headed inside.”
“Ah. Then I will accompany you.”
Amelia held the flowers stiffly at her side. “Actually, a short walk would be just fine. Mary, if you would... stay?”
Had Edward imagined it, or did she put emphasis on the wordshort? Before he could offer his arm, Amelia handed her flowers to Mary, then clasped her hands tightly behind her back.
He cleared his throat, searching out something to say. Flattering women had never been difficult for him. Why was he now losing his tongue?
“You look very well today. Is that—that sort of neckline coming into fashion?” It was strangely high, but perhaps that was a new style he simply hadn’t been aware of.
Amelia stiffened. “No, I do not believe so.”
Then why wear it?
“Ah,” he said, though he didn’t understand. “Well, you look quite becoming today.”
She scowled.
“Especially amongst these flowers. You are the picture of beauty.”
A tight smile was all the response he received. This was going splendidly. Perhaps he ought to have prepared a verse of poetry for her. Or brought her a gift. Something more costly than the flowers—he had overheard a man speaking of gifting a new bonnet to his wife and sending her into near raptures. Amelia must be in need of a new bonnet after soaking hers in the river.
His wife came to a stop. “Excuse me, but I—”
There was a distinct tone in her voice that led Edward to believe she was about to escape. That would not do, as he was only just beginning his efforts.
“Your hair. It is much like burnished gold. And your eyes like jewels. And your—your nose is rather fine.” Had all those words just left his mouth? And from where had they come? Certainly not his mind—they were far too idiotic to have even an ounce of intelligence. His coat was green... was there a possibility of him blending in with that bush there? If he could have disappeared into the shrubbery at that moment, he would.
Almost fearful to see her reaction to his profusion of compliments, he met her gaze. Her eyes were wide, and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. But then a sound much like laughter escaped her. She was laughing at him.
Yes, he definitely should have gotten her something more costly. After all, women always attempted to trap him in marriage for his title and wealth. He cleared his throat, brushing the front of his coat with the palms of his hands if only to provide a moment to recollect himself. A war ensued within him. Did he retreat and regroup or forge ahead?
In this instance, it seemed retreat was prudent. “I apologize but I have suddenly remembered some important business I must see to.” He turned on his heel, then spun back to her to bow, then turned about again and made for the house with more haste than a coach bound for Gretna Green.
***
Three days later, Edith and Henrietta settled themselves in Amelia’s drawing room, looking about with interest.
“I cannot say I have ever seen the inside of Edward’s home save for that impossibly brief wedding breakfast, have you, Henrietta?” Her twin shook her head, and Edith continued. “No, in fact, I do not believe anyone has since his parents passed. You ought to host a dinner party, Mellie. Or a ball!”
The use of her husband’s given name did not escape Amelia’s notice, but she ignored it, not wishing to delve into the nature of her husband and sisters’ relationship or, hopefully, the lack thereof.
“Excuse me while I ring for tea.”
While Amelia walked to the door, she took a steadying breath. She could handle a visit from her sisters. She had handled living with them for all of her life, after all. Granted, they had not been home often since her accident at the ruins.
“Ann?” she asked a maid passing in the hall. The brunette girl turned to her, smiling.
“Yes, my lady?” She dipped a curtsy.
“Would you be so good as to send for tea?” Amelia glanced over her shoulder into the room; she did not want to extend this visit any longer than needed. “And perhaps ask Cook not to include any refreshments.”
“Of course, my lady.” The girl, likely only a year or two younger than Amelia’s nineteen years, dipped another curtsy and left.
