Chapter Thirty
Lord Noah Peterson
The chair creaked under my weight as I reached for my cup in the breakfast room at Hayesford Hall. I sipped at the hot coffee. After the drama the night before, I had difficulty sleeping. I had planned to stay for another day, but given the circumstances with Lady Gwendolyn and Oliver, it might have been wiser to depart.
The way Oliver and I had ended our conversation troubled me. He was adamant about his feelings for me, and while a part of me wished otherwise, I couldn’t open myself up to love. I wasn’t strong enough yet and doubted I would ever be.
Footsteps and a flash of skirt alerted me to a newcomer, and I rose from my chair. Amelia entered wearing a green morning dress. Her hair was upswept in a simple style, but circles rimmed her eyes. “Good morning, Noah. Are we the first two down?”
“It would seem so. How is Lady Gwendolyn?” I regained my seat and waited for Amelia to answer. Her marriage hadn’t started out in the best of circumstances, and she deserved to be carefree for a few more days. Soon enough, her obligations as duchess would consume most of her time.
And keep her from me. I tapped my finger on the rim of my cup, trying to regulate my thoughts. She wasn’t mine to have. Oliver was her husband, and she’d vowed to love him until deathdo they part. I loved Sally, and she had said she loved me. We’d been happy, or so I thought.
The corners of her mouth quirked, and Amelia licked her lips, taking the seat beside me. The maid on duty had placed the tea service on the table earlier and a plate of freshly baked croissants. “I would imagine she’ll be suffering from a sick headache this morning, as well as exhaustion.”
“Beg pardon?” I asked, bringing my mind to the present. I peeled off a piece of the flaky bread.
“It would seem Lady Gwendolyn drank too much sherry.” Alluring laughter floated on the air as Amelia poured a cup of tea. She shook her head at the absurdity of it, adding a dollop of milk. “Hence the reason she was slurring.”
“She was tossed?” I asked, unable to stop my own relieved laughter. I liked the cheeky bird, and it pained me to think about her passing so soon.
“Sadly, the sherry and her stomach were not in agreement, and she spent a very unpleasant night over the chamber pot.” Her smile faltered a bit. “Dr. Thomas has ordered bed rest and to keep her away from the sherry decanter.”
“I don’t envy her the adverse effects of imbibing too much sherry. It is a very unpleasant feeling.” I settled the piece of croissant on my tongue and allowed the buttery flavors to fill my mouth. After giving up my commission and arriving home to find my wife had died, I’d found myself living in a bottle. I was pissed when I met my author friend at the tavern and had a hellish headache for two days afterward. In a way, it sobered me.
“Indeed.” Amelia stirred the liquid in her cup, the silver spoon clanging softly against the porcelain. She tilted her head and glanced around the room. Lines appeared on her smooth brow. She settled her gaze on the maid and cleared her throat. “You may leave us.”
My pulse picked up at the thought of being alone with Amelia.
The maid bobbed a curtsey and left the room.
A warm hand settled on my wrist, and she traced a thumb over the back of my hand. She stared longingly at me, indecision mingling with unrestrained passion. “I am sorry we weren’t able to, um, meet last night as we decided. Oliver insisted on staying by her side, even after the diagnosis.”
Oliver, who had declared his love for me. A rush of panic hit, and the croissant, which had tasted so good, sat dry in my mouth. Or perhaps it was my guilt over what I was about to say. “Perhaps it was for the best. I have had some time to think, and I believe it might behoove us to leave things as they are.”
Her fingers flexed before she released my hand, a tension forming in her jaw that hadn’t been there seconds before. She lifted the cup and palmed it, her head angled in a telling manner. “It is a rather sudden change of heart. You were very eager for an affair, and now you’re begging off?”
She was astute, and I had no doubt she could read between the lines. I had no real argument, just a gut instinct to call a halt to the affair before it went any further. Oliver’s declaration changed everything. “You and Oliver are newly married. It would do you good to be alone for a while.”
“Does this have anything to do with what you were discussing in the garden with Oliver?” Amelia asked, still watching me with interest. She didn’t appear too upset, which gave me hope that I might survive this unscathed.
“You heard us.” I dropped the croissant on my plate and lifted my coffee cup again. Oliver was impressionable, and I had assumed he’d be the lesser complication. How wrong I was. “He doesn’t mean it. He loves you.”
“You can love more than one person.” Amelia studied the contents of her cup for a long moment. “But can you be in lovewith more than one person? I believe so. The question becomes, would you let yourself? You said you don’t wish to marry again. Marriage and love don’t always go hand in hand, as you very well know.”
Her hair showed a burnished red in the morning sunlight that brightened the room. Those silky locks had been spread out on the pillow while she moaned my name. Even the memory sent blood pulsating into my groin. We were alone. I need only lean over and kiss her. Except it wasn’t my place. “Love and marriage both require commitment. I have enough commitments in my life without the added burden of falling in love again.”
“Love shouldn’t be a burden.” She returned her hand to clasp mine, the heat of her skin infiltrating my palm. A gentle smile tilted the corners of her generous mouth. “It should be a celebration.”
“Yes, itshouldbe.” I tried to remove my hand, unable to continue touching her without acting on my impulse to do more.
Amelia held fast, her grip surprisingly strong. She continued to study me until I could no longer hold her regard. “So it’s the love part you find fault with? If Oliver hadn’t said anything about his feelings, would we be having this conversation?”
I wished I could say no. Once again, my cock had gotten me into trouble. Had I simply stayed away, their wedding night would have never involved me. It was too late for that. “It changes things, yes. I agreed to help you two, and if I’m truthful, I had selfish motives. The night in my room sparked my lust more than it quenched the desire I have for you. And the same goes for Oliver.”
