Chapter Eleven
Lord Noah Peterson
I entered my suite of rooms, peeling off my coat as I went. The servants had lit the gas lamps, and a soft glow covered the sitting room. I had used the excuse to visit my estates with the naïve notion I could escape from my own thoughts. Except Sally had lived there as well and I decided to return to London. At least here, I could be close to my boys.
A dull thud sounded from Sally’s old room on the other side of the sitting room. I halted in my tracks, memories flooding my mind. In the days after her death, the silence in the room had been deafening. Ethan had a habit of sneaking from the nursery into my room, but it would be impossible for it to be him. I’d just checked on my children in their room, and per usual, they were all in Ethan’s bed. Head tilted, I strained to see if my imagination was playing tricks on me. Another thump, followed by a low murmuring sound.
I fought to keep my hand steady. Sally’s room had remained as she left it, a shrine to my wife. Even to this day, I couldn’t bring myself to let go of any of her belongings. It was still too raw. I strode to the door, and my pulse pounding a mad beat, I opened it to reveal dark blue linens. The heavy color blocked out what little light infiltrated the room from outside.
Amelia knelt on the floor. Clad in a green robe, the material hugged her plump bottom, which was stuck in the air while shereached under the canopied bed. I stood in place, telling myself to say something, anything. It proved difficult to formulate any one of the million questions spinning around in my head. I settled on the most imperative one. “Amelia, what are you doing in here?”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening. “Noah, you are home. I thought you were gone for the night.”
“I had a change of plan.” I crossed my arms over my chest and inspected her flushed face. Her hair was down and braided over one shoulder. “What are you doing in here?”
“I, um, I was looking for a book I lent Sally. You know how she loved Miss Austen.” She stumbled over her words, grabbing the bed frame and hoisting herself to her feet. The belt around her robe defined her slender waist and generous hips. Her hand clutched a thin volume, and she lifted the book for me to see the cover. “I wanted to read it, and I searched the entire house when I recalled I had given the volume to her.” By the way she averted her gaze, she wasn’t telling me the entire truth. Yes, I was family by marriage, but there would be severe consequences if she were caught in my rooms. “And you thought it might be under the bed?”
“Like me, Sally liked to read in bed. It, well, I thought maybe it might have slipped to the floor.” She shrugged, the robe parting at the neck to reveal the swell of her breasts. “And I was right. I found it on the floor by the end of the bed.”
“Are you telling me that the servants missed the book for over a year?” I asked, tapping my thumb against the linen of my shirt. I was conscious of being in my shirtsleeves and alone with Amelia. Beautiful, appealing Amelia. My wife’s sister.
“You haven’t let them into her quarters, Noah,” she said, waving her hand around the stuffy room. It was shrouded, but in the light of day, the room carried a layer of dust. It also carried a hint of her scent, which had slowly been fading every day.
I shifted on my feet at the reminder. “Regardless, you should have sent a servant to fetch it for you.”
“It is late, and I’d dismissed Jenny for the night. I couldn’t sleep and rather than face a second night staring at the ceiling, I thought I’d immerse myself in a favorite of ours. I...” She shrugged, her lower lip quivering the slightest bit. Hands shaking and mouth pinched, she inhaled. Upon closer inspection, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy; the dark circles beneath them spoke of exhaustion.
“You needn’t explain any further,” I said, lessening my combative stance. Amelia and Sally had been thick as thieves while growing up.
She nodded and brought her knuckle to her cheek, brushing aside the sheen of moisture which made her skin dewy. Her breath caught on a sob. “It’s been a struggle today.”
My stomach dropped at the reminder. I had stayed away from London today because it was hard to face a future without Sally. Stepping forward, I took Amelia’s hand, holding it between my own. Foolish, yes, since I wanted to draw her into a tight embrace. Her pain echoed my own. It took all of my willpower to keep the distance between us. I was feeling restless, and in my current mood, I might do something I’d regret. Like kiss her. “Perhaps we should go to the blue sitting room and talk.” We often stayed up late talking about a myriad of subjects, all under the watchful eye of a servant.
“No,” she shook her head, her footsteps faltering. “No, Mother is there, and I, well, I would rather not.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Noah. I thought you were still out for the evening. Don’t let me keep you. If you wish to join the rest of the family or retire for the night, be my guest. I will see myself out.”
“Do you really think it is appropriate for you to be in my private rooms while I am present? Your mother and father would be appalled, and rightly so.” I took a step back andcrooked my finger, indicating she follow me into the sitting room. The sweet smell of roses drifted from her as she passed me, her hips swaying in an unconscious rhythm. I’d had a few drinks before I left my estate, and the brandy weakened my resolve.
“No, of course not. In my defense, you indicated you would be gone overnight, and I really wanted to read that book.” She cast a remorseful smile, a gleam of apology in her eyes. Instead of heading to the door, she approached the sideboard where several decanters sat. “Since I am already here, perhaps we can have a glass of sherry?”
Without waiting for my response, she unstopped the crystal and began to pour.
“Amelia, whatever are you playing at?” I asked, cutting to the chase. No matter how upset she was, her current behavior was questionable.
She lifted the glass and took a sip before she brought the second glass over to me. “I’m not playing at anything. I’m avoiding my mother. She’s been exceptionally difficult tonight, especially after Oliver canceled his appointment with my father.”
“Why did he cancel?” My stomach dropped. When he’d left me, he’d been adamant that he’d propose tomorrow. Surely he hadn’t changed his mind?
