Amelia wasn’t entirely sure how long she stood in the ballroom after Stephen had left. A minute? Two?
Did it matter?
It was something of a surprise when the door creaked open a moment later. Not the main door Stephen had exited through, but a small side door, probably reserved for servants.
“Amelia?” Madeline’s voice skittered across the silence. The music tutor had left a while ago, and now she was alone. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Amelia managed, forcing a smile. “Yes, of course.”
Did Madeline know about Stephen’s abduction? Hispress-ganging? Did she know who was behind it? Did Tristan know? Did it matter?
Proving that a man like her brother had committed such a crime would not be easy. In fact, she was fairly sure that it would be impossible. He would have covered his tracks well.
Madeline eyed her for a long moment, nibbling on her lower lip.
“I should tell you that when it comes to those clubs,” she said at last, “all the founding members have met their matches in… inunorthodoxways. You can believe me there. My husband is a founding member of theTon’s Devils. Our courtship was…” She paused, amusement crossing her face. “Unusual. But the truth is that he is the love of my life. And I am his. Despite the oddness of it all, we love each other. We wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Amelia smiled tiredly. “The difference is that I do not love Stephen.”
Madeline tilted her head. “That’s what I said about Tristan, too.”
What was she getting at? Amelia was too exhausted to work it through.
“I see,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, Madeline, but I’m tired. I would like to retire. Could you give my apologies to Letitia?”
Madeline’s shoulders sank a little, almost in disappointment. “Yes, of course.” She offered a quick smile. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”
The maid glanced up sharply as Amelia entered the room.
“Oh, Miss Holt, I didn’t think you’d come up at this hour,” she gasped, wringing her hands. “There’s dusting to be done up here, and the housekeeper said that I should get a start on it while?—”
“It’s all right, Jane,” Amelia murmured, clambering onto the bed and dropping face down. “Just do your work. I wouldn’t normally be here so early, but I… I find myself tired.”
Jane gave a little hum of understanding, or at least that was how Amelia interpreted it.
She lay where she was, listening to the maid bustle around the room. She heard the brush and swish of a feather duster as it slid around hard-to-reach places, and imagined it tugging down cobwebs from the corners.
“Do you need anything, Miss Holt?” Jane asked, after a few moments. “Tea, or something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I suppose I’m just a little overwhelmed. The wedding and all.”
“Of course, Miss Holt. I can’t say I envy you.”
Silence ensued as Amelia slowly registered what Jane had said. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, her hair tangled around her face.
Jane had her back turned and appeared to be vigorously polishing a low wooden table.
“What did you mean by that?”
Jane flinched, glancing over her shoulder. She reddened at once. “Forgive me, Miss Holt, I spoke out of turn.”
“No, I… I want to understand what you meant. I’m not angry,” Amelia added.
Jane wavered for a moment, twisting the duster between her fingers. At last, she sighed, turning to face her.
“Well, the truth is that… that I wouldn’t want to be in your place, Miss Holt. We’re not so different, you and I, are we? I’m a housemaid, but you’re a seamstress. In any other condition, I’d be glad to see one of my own rising high enough to become a duchess, but not… not like this.”
“I don’t understand. Not like what? Why wouldn’t you want to be in my place?”
