“I do believe we might go an entire day without a single drop of rain.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking far too pleased with herself.
But she was right. And although the air was crisp, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, something almost unheard of this early in the spring.
Knowing her current disposition might loosen her tongue, Leopold’s improved as well.
It had nothing to do with her smile. Or the faint scent of citrusy lavender that wafted delicately around her.
“Nothing like it in London,” he said.
“There were a few days last year…” Even without the stays, she sat ramrod straight, barely touching the back of the bench. “The smog bothers me more than the rain.”
“Winters are the worst.” And now he’d resorted to discussing the fucking weather. What was this woman doing to him?
She turned her back to the window. When her knees bumped into his, she quickly pulled them back. “I won’t be here that long, will I?”
“I can’t say for certain.” But they’d have to fail miserably with Crossings for her to still be with him come winter.
She seemed to accept the possibility without an abundance of distress.
“What will I do? To pass the time?” Her blue eyes widened. “Are we going to be alone? You aren’t married, are you?”
“No—to both,” he said. “And you can do what you like. I’m not going to keep you locked up in a tower.”
“Are you sure?” If she were any other woman, he’d imagine she was flirting. But her face softened and she turned back to stare out the window. “My mother was right, though. I will never come back from this. It’s too scandalous...” Was that the hint of a smile? If so, was it happy or sad?
“That’s ridiculous,” Leopold said. The nobility lived by an absurd set of rules, the ladies more so than the gentlemen. “People forget. You’ll be fielding proposals in no time.”
Because those so-called gentlemen were still male. And a woman like this would be irresistible, ruined or not.
“No.” She rolled her lips together. “But that’s probably for the best,” she said.
Amelia had wokenthat morning with a light heart and she refused to allow anything to weigh it down. With a little help from Sally, Amelia had dressed herself and even braided her own hair. She was determined to care for her own person. And that, she determined, was only the beginning.
She wanted to become a person with… purpose.
“Are you saying you don’t want to marry?” he asked. “I thought marriage was the lifelong objective of any young lady.”
“It is… Or, I thought it was.” Amelia shook her head. “Actually, I think it’s a mother’s lifelong objective.”
“And a father’s?”
“That stands to reason.” But then she grimaced. “I suppose my father will be more disappointed than my mother. It’ll be the second agreement he’s made to fall apart.”
These were the sort of thoughts that could derail her newfound optimism.
“You weren’t betrothed, though.” Mr. Beckworth’s eyes darkened. “Were you?”
“It’s complicated.”
Mr. Beckworth lowered his brow. “Did you actually want to marry Winterhope?”
“I wouldn’t have minded.” But then she added, “very much. He’s mad for horses, you know. And I like horses. They are beautiful animals. But he had a tendency to run on about them. My cousin, Clementine, the woman he threw me over for, is a horsewoman as well. I think they probably make a good match.”
“So, you did not, in fact, want to marry him.”
Amelia met his stare. “Me marrying has nothing to do with what I want.” She went on to explain that when her father’sagreement with the Marquess of Winterhope fell through, he’d initiated talks with Lord Northwoods. “My father cannot abide his daughter failing on the marriage mart, especially after I declined so many offers last year. But having been jilted, and now this… Northwoods won’t want me now.”
And that was perfectly fine with Amelia. More than fine, actually.
