“The servants have already attempted to tell her as much. Numerous times. But she is insistent and says she saw you arrive just now.” Mary paused. “The servants quite revere her and are struggling to put her off. Do you need me to... ?” She trailed off, and it was clear that though she would not relish sending the dowager off, she would for her mistress.
“No, Mary, it is all right.” She clasped her hands tightly as she paced to the window. “Tell her I will be down shortly.”
The door opened and closed behind her.
For a second, or several minutes, Amelia stared unseeing out the window. She bit her lips together, twisted her hands about, and generally tried to settle her spinning thoughts so that she would be capable of basic conversation skills by the time she met the dowager.
It did not work. It was futile. And what was once a creeping headache was now a throbbing pain settling across her temples.
Fully expecting to outrage the dowager with her inattention, she quit the room. The evening could hardly get worse at this point.
She was told the dowager awaited her in the study, which was odd, but Amelia found she did not care. She only wished to conclude the conversation and return to solitude. But as Coombs accompanied her down the hall, a question slipped from her lips, the words quietly spoken.
“Are you perhaps aware of what lodging Lord Norwich generally chooses to stay at when traveling in the direction he went?”
“I am not certain about the remainder of his journey, but he almost always spends the first night at the White Hart. It is also on the way to his country estate, so he stays there often, and the proprietors are always happy for his patronage.”
Amelia’s already low spirits sunk further still. “Thank you, Coombs.”
He bowed, and when she entered the study, she found the elderly lady surveying the bookshelves.
“There you are. I had thought I would need to wait all night.”
Amelia blinked. Her frustrations, which were at quite the boiling point already, bubbled up dangerously. “I am sorry to keep you waiting.”
“You ought to be.” She stomped to a chair and settled herself in it, leaning her walking stick against the large desk. “I am getting on in years and shouldn’t be made to be out this late.”
Amelia fought off the desire to rub at her pounding head. She felt hot. “Then, perhaps, you might wish to hold off on making your visits until the morning.”
Lady Cromwell looked up at her with raised brows.
Amelia opened her mouth to apologize. She should have insisted she was not at home. She was clearly not fit for company.
But then the dowager laughed a hearty chuckle that Amelia would not have expected to come from such a frail-looking woman. “Oh ho, I see why our Edward has fallen so completely for you.”
Wait, what was that? “Your Edward?” she asked.
Lady Cromwell waved in dismissal. “Yes, yes, there are a couple of us who have taken the young boy under our wing since his mother passed. We see him as a sort of honorary son.”
“He never... he never said.”
“Yes, that is because he does not particularly like to share us. But that is not why I am here. I have only just heard that he quit town this week. Whatever for?”
“His valet, Barton. His mother is very sick, and all attempts to help have not succeeded, so Lord Norwich went to undergo some alterations and improvements to their living conditions.”
“Ah. Have you met Barton?”
“No, my lady.” Amelia blinked, trying to keep the dowager in focus.
“You will like him. He tempers Edward quite well. Now, tell me of your marriage.”
“I am sorry. You wish me to what exactly?” Amelia was struggling to keep track of the conversation with all its sudden twists and turns. She felt dizzy.
“Edward visited with me some time ago, and I wished to know how your marriage is now.” Lady Cromwell watched her expectantly.
This was feeling far too much like the conversation she had just escaped at her family’s house.
“If he visited you, then I would assume you are already well apprised of our relationship.”
