“Hardly.” She scoffed. “The boy makes a muddle of things often. I like to think he gets that from his father, but while some of his less-savory traits can be blamed on the man, this particular one is at least equally Arabella’s fault.”
“Arabella?”
“His mother. She was a dear but often left things unsaid that should have been spoken of.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed. So tell me, what do you think of our Edward?” They had returned to speaking of her marriage again.
But Amelia was so tired. “Ask me tomorrow, and it may be different. Had you asked me last week, it would have been different still. Today is of the same befuddled vein. I haven’t a clue what to think of Lord Norwich because I hardly know the man. I’ve learned moreofhim thanfromhim.” That was not entirely true, but the parts she had learned from others weighed more heavily on her now, so that is what escaped her mouth.
“I see.”
“Do you? Because I do not.” Amelia stood, swaying on the spot, her hand coming to her head. She walked with unsteady steps to Edward’s desk.
“Are you quite all right?”
Something caught her eye. Letters. Two? With decidedly feminine scripts on the front. She reached for one, pushing it aside to see the letter unfolded beneath. The letters swam, but she clearly saw Edward’s name at the top and a woman’s name scrolled at the bottom.
Confused and concerned, with a sickening feeling rising in her stomach, she looked up at the dowager. “Yes. I have simply had a trying evening.” But the room was still spinning, and her headache was winning control of more than half her head at this point.
“You are rather pale.”
“Edward has said that before too.”
“Edward, is it?”
Amelia groaned.
“Child, are you certain—”
And then, quite suddenly, blackness crept into the corners of her vision, her headache pulsing as it pushed the darkness across her eyes. She swayed, someone cried out, and pain shot through her skull.
Chapter Thirty-One
There was only one dayleft of being jostled in the carriage. One day left of staying at inns and eating in public rooms. One day left until he would see Amelia.
That knowledge added a bounce to Edward’s step as he descended the stairs of the White Hart. He looked around tentatively, marginally worried that another snakelike female lay in wait for him at the bottom
Thankfully, there were only a handful of guests and the inn’s proprietor, who looked up expectantly when he stepped from the stairs.
“Lord Norwich. Forgive my intrusion, as I am sure you are preparing to depart, but a letter arrived for you this morn, with instructions to deliver it whenever you should arrive. I do not believe the sender was aware you would be here so soon. But, anyway, here it is.” The man handed over a folded missive, then returned to whatever business he’d been about.
Edward glanced down as he walked to the door. He intended to read the note once in the carriage but stopped when he recognized Mrs. Huckabee’s handwriting. What would his housekeeper be writing him about? He tore beneath the seal, hastily unfolding the foolscap.
Lord Norwich,
I am hopeful this letter will reach you soon, as I am afraid its contents are rather urgent. Lady Norwich has taken ill. She fell unconscious late Saturday evening during a visit with Lady Cromwell, and though she awoke after only quarter of an hour, she is still confined to bed with a fever and is continually experiencing dizzy spells. The physician has been to see her, and the bloodletting did not improve her condition. We consulted another, who believes her to be sick with an infection and that she will improve with time. But, understandably, we are all fairly unsettled. Make haste, my lord, if not for us, then for your wife.
Housekeeper,
Mrs. Huckabee
Edward felt as though someone had taken a bucket of cold water and doused him with it. Wild panic filled him, propelling him forward. He stuffed the note in his pocket as he burst from the inn.
“John!” he bellowed to his coachman who sat atop the carriage, prepared to return his master home. The gangly man looked to him sharply at the command in Edward’s voice. “Take the carriage and go. I’ll follow on horseback—you there!”
A young stableboy startled as Edward pointed to him. “Y-yes, my lord?”
