What had she seen in his gaze? The wretched man was too good at hiding his feelings.
“Oh, do call me Madeline,” the Duchess responded. “I do not think I’ll ever get used to all thatYour Gracenonsense. I want my friends to call me by my name. And any friends of Stephen and Letitia’s are friends of mine.”
Well,Amelia thought with a flinch,that was generous.
She’d encountered a duchess or two in the course of her work, but none of them had ever been as kind as Madeline. In fact, very few of the ladies who shopped at the modiste had even botheredto look her in the eye when they gave her orders, let alone smile so kindly and speak so sweetly.
“Thank you,” she managed, missing a beat.
Madeline beamed at her. If she and her husband were curious as to why Amelia and her sisters were here, they apparently did not intend to voice their questions.
“We had an ulterior motive for our visit,” Madeline continued, after a moment. “We are excited to attend your party, Letitia, but in my condition, travel can be difficult. I wondered if we might stay here before the party began, and remain for a day or two afterward? It will stretch out the journey to and from our house, and will let me rest as I need to.”
“Why, of course! What a fine idea. We would love to have you,” Letitia gushed. “It’s been entirely too long since we had guests, so I should warn you that Stephen and I are sorely out of practice. But if you can forgive a few slip-ups on our part, it will be a pleasure to host you. Stay as long as you like!”
“Thank you, you are so kind.” Madeline’s eyes flicked back to Amelia, an undeniable tinge of curiosity in their depths. “Miss Holt, I am glad to meet you properly, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you around.”
“No, you haven’t,” Amelia confirmed, swallowing. Where was this line of questioning going? “Please, call me Amelia.”
Madeline smiled at that. “Amelia. You are not married or engaged, then?”
“No, I am not. I am a seamstress,” Amelia replied quickly, color rushing to her face.
That was where the conversation was going, wasn’t it? Madeline was probing gently, trying to learn where she had come from.
“Amelia is here as my companion,” Letitia added, patting her hand. “And I feel better already. It does one good to have young people around, I think.”
“Many thanks, Grandmother,” Stephen murmured wryly.
“Oh, hush, you know what I mean. You are as grumpy as an old man. Besides, Amelia is going to suit our family very well, I think.”
Madeline briefly met her husband’s eyes. A quick flash of something passed between them, the sort of instant understanding and communication that only a well-married couple could achieve.
Tristan was still kneeling on the terrace, petting Tiny. Abruptly, the dog broke away, gamboling across the lawn until he found a perfect stick, snatched it up, and ran back with joy. Chuckling, Tristan wrenched the stick from the dog’s jaws and sent it hurtling across the lawn.
With a bark of delight, Tiny thundered after it, disturbing the long-suffering Dust as he did so. With a brief hiss, the cat bounced to his feet and slunk away.
“I’m sure she will,” Madeline agreed, smiling again at Amelia. “Well, I think the dizziness from the journey here has eased. I wonder, Amelia, if you’d like to take a turn around the gardens with me? I know there is a fine orangery here, and truly, at the moment I can think of nothing but oranges.” She sighed, patted her rounded belly, and lifted her eyebrows expectantly.
Amelia paused, glancing at Letitia. But the old woman was busy pouring another cup of tea, so Amelia reluctantly turned her attention to Stephen.
He was already looking at her, his gaze unreadable as always. A lump formed in her throat, and a strange heaviness settled in her chest, both unusual sensations that left her feeling uncertain and off-balance.
“Would that be acceptable?” she asked hesitantly. “Can I go?”
Madeline’s gaze darted between Amelia and Stephen. She stayed quiet, a smile still curving her lips.
“Of course,” Stephen responded. “You do not need to ask.”
“Wonderful,” Madeline chirped, levering herself up with effort. “Shall we go? My baby is keen on the scent of oranges. And we have lots to discuss, Amelia.”
Lots to discuss? That cannot possibly be good.
CHAPTER 19
Once Amelia and Madeline were gone, Letitia turned to Marjory and resumed speaking to her. Nancy set off in a run after the cat.
Left to his devices, Stephen lowered himself into a crouch beside Tristan and scratched the top of Tiny’s head.
