It was surprising how much she missed Edward when he couldn’t have been gone more than a few hours. The knowledge that it could be nearly two weeks or more before she saw him weighed heavily on her, whispering that she had begun to care far more for him than was wise. But every corner of the house seemed filled with his grin or a teasing word. She imagined she heard him calling her some ridiculous pet name—or perhaps offering a newly sincere compliment. Attempting to tamp down such recollections, she sat at the pianoforte. Her fingers began a familiar song. Too familiar.
She knew the piece so well that her mind refused to focus on it and instead rehearsed every moment between her and Edward the night before. He’d told her stories of his time at Harrow—boyish escapades and overbearing professors. He’d mentioned that his father had sent him to school when he was only eight. Eight! He had glossed over the fact as if it was nothing to be concerned over, but Amelia rather wished his father was still around so she could give him a piece of her mind.
Of course, she probably wouldn’t ever dare to truly do such a thing—were the man alive—but she sorely wished to.
After dinner, they’d played a game of piquet in the drawing room while discussing his plans for his valet’s home, and he’d been the utmost gentleman.
Before dinner, though, he had almost kissed her. And she would have let him. Even with the many questions she still had, and the secrets she still held, she would have welcomed his kiss had Coombs not interrupted.
But he had. So it did not matter.
Why then had she stopped playing to rest her fingertips against her lower lip?
The door opened, and Amelia wrenched her hands into her lap. Who—
“Edw—Lord Norwich?”
The light played upon his hair, bringing out hues of gold she’d never noticed before. “You were about to call me Edward.”
Amelia fought the blush valiantly. “No, I was only...” There was nothing for it. As the grin on his face blossomed, her walls fell. That formality between them—the refusal to use his Christian name—had been the last defense. Pitiful fortifications, but fortifications all the same. Fortifications that were now gone.
“I thought you left,” she said lamely, looking away to hide her blush. As if such a thing were possible. She would have to duck behind the heavy curtains about the windows if she really wished to keep the blazing warmth spreading across her cheeks from his notice.
“I would not have gone without bidding you farewell.” His voice sounded incredulous as he stepped farther into the room.
“Are you leaving now then?”
“Why? Do you wish me to? Or...” He dragged the sentence out until she looked up at him. His lips lifted in a teasing smile. “Would you rather I stay?”
“I thought we’d agreed I would no longer be bolstering your impressive ego.”
“Ah, so you find it impressive?” He leaned lazily against the chair nearest the pianoforte.
She rolled her eyes, not even trying to stop her laugh. “Impressive? Oh no, you must have misheard. I find it impossible. Impossible to live with.”
He straightened, brushing the fronts of his breeches. “Then I suppose I shall take my leave if I am so very impossible to live with.” He turned and made it nearly to the door before Amelia sighed heavily.
“Very well, if you wish to stay, I suppose I can endure.”
His expression when he looked over his shoulder at her nearly set her on fire. He turned around fully, his hands taking hold of the back of a chair near the entrance. “I do. Wish to stay, that is. I... I rather wish I did not need to leave at all.”
His gaze flicked to his hands then up at her. The intensity there exhilarated her.
“I rather wish that as well.”
The words were quiet, but he could certainly hear them.
With long strides, he crossed the room, coming to stand beside her and the pianoforte. She had to crane her neck to keep their gazes together.
“I need not leave just this moment.” He glanced at the keys of the instrument. “Will you teach me?”
“To play?”
“Yes.”
She tilted her head. “I suppose. I am no teacher, and no instrument can be learned in a single sitting.”
“Of course. Just the basics then?”
