Of course, the difference here was that her mother had been madly in love with her man, and Amelia was… Well, Stephen was not sure how Amelia felt about him. She was drawn to him, or at least drawn to the way he touched her. But the idea of marriage had shocked her.
Stephen bit his lower lip, tapping the end of his pencil against the desk. He had work to do, but ledgers and correspondence were the last things he could think about at that moment. He hadn’t been able to think about them for days now.
He could only think about Amelia.
Marriage was the right choice. His grandmother was right about that. Their encounters would likely have repeated over their three months together, and he supposed that it was only a matter of time before they were caught in an even more shocking, compromising position.
There’s nothing like marriage to cool ardor,he thought grimly.Once she’s my Duchess, I daresay she’ll never want me to touch her again.
He’d seen it in her eyes when he suggested that they marry.
Had it been a suggestion, really? In hindsight, he supposed that he’d simply told her what he intended to do.
Well, it was too late to go back and change things now. The license was on its way. News was already flying around London that the Duke of Redcliffe was back, not dead at all, and more, that he was thinking of taking awife.
Society was all a-quiver. Calling cards arrived at their home by the barrelful, and more ambitious members of the tonattempted to visit. They were never admitted, of course, but they still tried.
Occasionally, he would spot Amelia in the halls. Once or twice, they had crossed paths, but she generally took pains to avoid him. He had seen her, ahead of him in a corridor, duck hastily into the closest doorway, pretending she had not seen him, only to venture out once he’d gone by. It was vaguely amusing, but his amusement was rapidly running out.
I feel like a predator on the hunt for a particularly tricky prey. A fox and a cunning chicken, perhaps.
Letting out a long sigh, he tossed aside his pencil and leaned back in his seat, tilting back his head. In the silence, he could hear strains of music.
With Madeline’s help, Letitia had decided to teach the Holt sisters a little etiquette.
Amelia won’t be able to avoid me there,Stephen realized with a wry smile.Not in the middle of her etiquette lesson.
With that thought, he pushed away from his desk, leaving his study behind, and set off at a brisk walk down the hallway.
The music led him all the way to the large, empty ballroom. He stepped inside and found them all clustered around the music platform at the end. A huge pianoforte dominated the platform, and a tired-looking music tutor hunched over the keys.
Madeline was there, sitting back in a chair with her hands on her belly. Letitia sat beside her, while Nancy stood besideher, watching eagerly. Amelia sat opposite, very straight-backed, with a heavy book balanced on her head. As far as Stephen could tell, her goal was to pour three cups of tea from a steaming teapot without dislodging the books.
As he approached, she glanced up, and her mouth tightened. The book wobbled, and the stream of tea faltered, but she didn’t spill a drop. Then she set aside the pot, deliberately ignoring him, and looked straight at Letitia.
“There.”
“Well done, my dear,” Letitia said approvingly. “Your manners are excellent. Are you sure you didn’t attend finishing school?”
“No, our mother taught us all of this,” Amelia murmured, lifting the book off her head and setting it aside. Still not looking at Stephen, she gingerly massaged the top of her head as if it ached. “Father insisted.”
“Yourfatherinsisted?” Stephen spoke up.
She was forcedto look at him then, a quick, annoyed glance.
She is not pleased at being ambushed.
He bit back a smile.
“Yes,” she answered eventually. “I… I believe he planned to find a way to introduce us to Society. I do not know how he would have managed it.”
“It sounds as though he loved you all very much,” Madeline murmured, her voice quiet but clear. “He wanted all three of you to have a good life.”
“It would not have worked,” Amelia responded, looking away. She made no move to take any of the tea she had just poured. Stephen watched the steam curl up from the amber liquid, disappearing into the air. “We would have been discovered and ruined sooner or later.”
Before Letitia could respond, the door banged, and skittering footsteps echoed. Stephen turned to see Marjory hurrying toward them, her hair coming undone, breathless. She had clearly come running.
“This scandal sheet just arrived today,” she cried, halfway across the room. “It mentionsyou, Amelia.”
