The butler motioned over a footman and gave him orders.
Bloody hell, his luggage could not have arrived, if it had, Aunt Grace would already have his room prepared. He would make do without it for now. Perhaps something remained from a past visit that he could wear until his garments were seen too. What other choice did he have? Richard stepped toward the staircase. “Do not fret over me. As you can see I am badly in need of freshening up. Go attend to your errand and I will be here when you return.”
“Very well, dear. I will not be over long.”
The butler opened the door for her after helping her into her cloak. Richard watched until she disappeared from sight. Aside from his mother, Aunt Grace was the only woman he trusted. She had never done him wrong.
A maid appeared with a pile of fresh linins. She curtseyed. “I will have your room ready straight away.”
“Please have a bath prepared as well.”
She bobbed her head before mounting the stairs.
He strolled toward his uncle’s old office. A glass of port would be the perfect thing to keep him busy while his room was tended to. His spirits were already much improved since leaving Scotland. Perhaps London and all its diversions would be just the thing to help him fully recover from Lady Ophelia’s scheming and malice.
* * * *
Amelia looked up from her needlework as Grace glided into the room, her chin held high in her customary regal display. Uncle Lewis, who sat opposite his niece in the drawing room, set down the book he’d been reading and rose from his chair.
As he bowed the duchess stepped forward, chuckling. “Come now, Mr. Lewis, there is no need for formalities. You are part of Amelia’s family, and that also makes you an honorary part of mine.”
When Amelia’s mother came to England, Grace took her under her wing. Being an American closed many parlor doors to mama. Of course she still received invitations due to papa’s status, but the ladies of the ton did not embrace her until the duchess did. As a result of their friendship, Amelia had grown up around the duchess and looked to her as a second mother.
Uncle Lewis straightened his posture. “Do have a seat, Your Grace.” He motioned toward the velvet armchair positioned next to Amelia’s.
Grace took her seat, elaborate skirts rustling. “Thank you, good sir. I abhor formalities among family and close friends. You have leave to call me Grace.”
His expression relaxed. “As you wish, but I insist upon you calling me Lewis in return.”
Uncle Lewis sat back down and studied Amelia with curiosity. She smiled at him and tipped her head to the duchess.
“How lovely it is to see you.” Did her voice tremble?
“And you as well, Amelia.” The dowager’s voice came across smooth and confident.
Uncle Lewis’s gaze returned to the duchess. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
“As I have already explained, Amelia is like family to me. I wanted to check on her in light of all that has happened.” Turning to Amelia, she said, “How are you, my dear? Is there anything you need?”
“I am perfectly content at the moment, thank you. Of course, I miss Papa terribly, but there is really nothing to be done about it.” Her vocal chords squeezed at the reminder, and she swallowed hard.
Grace winked at Amelia, then turned her attention back to Uncle Lewis. “Forgive my forwardness on the matter, but what are your plans for Amelia now that you have been appointed her guardian?”
“I am taking her to live with me in America, at least until she reaches the age of majority. I hope she will find it to her liking and choose to stay permanently, but, alas, that will be her decision.”
As indignation rose inside her, Amelia fought to maintain her composure. He must have gone completely mad! She would never choose America over England. How could he not realize she had no inclination to live in America? Not now--not ever. England was her home, and God as her witness, it always would be. Abandoning England would be the same as abandoning her parents, which she would never consider doing.
Grace nodded, her expression remaining warm. “I see, and when will you be departing for America?”
Amelia shifted in her seat and tried to inconspicuously wipe her sweating palms while she waited for the scheme to play out.
“Our ship leaves port Monday, shortly after sunrise. I am looking forward to my return.”
“My...but this Monday morning?” Grace’s gasp would have convinced the queen herself.
“Yes, you see, I have already stayed in England much longer than I should have. It is spring planting time. I am needed at my plantation to ensure things run smoothly.”
“I can see how that would be necessary, but it is simply unreasonable to expect Amelia to leave her home behind for two years on a few days’ notice. She needs more time to settle her affairs here in London and at Everthorne. They are her responsibility now.”
