Amelia turned and fled, not caring how much noise she made. She ran down the hallway, down the stairs. Not to her room, because it felt as though it were his, too. As if he could wander in at any time, as if Jane could, with her pitying smile and offers of help.
She ran into the butler in the hall, nearly colliding with him.
“Miss Holt, is everything all right?” he gasped, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder and then withdrawing his hand, thinking better of it.
She could see the moment when he remembered that she would not be a mere seamstress, a meremiss,for much longer, but the Duchess of Redcliffe herself.
When I’m a duchess, nobody will ever touch me again. They won’t risk it. And Stephen does not care for me, so he won’t touch me either. I’ll be like a marble statue on a plinth. Very high and grand, but not real at all. Not reachable.
“I’m fine,” she choked out. “I only want to go out into the gardens. For some air.”
“Air?” he echoed, frowning. “But Miss Holt, night air can be injurious to the complexion.”
I don’t give a damn about my complexion. And I can’t believe that the air at night is any worse than the air during the day.
“I don’t mind,” she answered tightly. “Open the door, please.”
“Shall I fetch a chaperone? One of your sisters, perhaps, or a maid?” he suggested, a gentle reminder that ladies who were almost duchesses didn’t go bounding around the place alone.
Amelia gritted her teeth, imagining what she would do if Jane were the maid selected to chaperone her. In fact, it could not be Jane, because she was up in Stephen’s room with Stephen.
“I’d rather go alone,” she insisted.
If he doesn’t open the door soon, I shall scream.
The butler eyed her with obvious disappointment. “As you like, Miss Holt. I will just mention to Her Grace that you have gone out into the gardens alone. She may disapprove,” he added, as if in warning.
Amelia gave a tight smile and said nothing.
The butler unlocked the front door, and she darted out past him. The air was cool and lovely, the sky above shimmering with stars. She kept walking, stumbling down the wide marble steps, aware of the butler standing in the doorway above her. He was watching her with obvious, heavy disapproval.
Ladies don’t do this. Stephen said that I was more of a lady than many others he’d met. Perhaps that is true, or perhaps he just has a taste for commoners. Seamstresses and housemaids.
He would find those aplenty, no doubt. Perhaps common girls—working women and bastards—were easier to charm and impress. Perhaps he didn’t have to work so hard to seduce them. Perhaps they were more grateful.
And I was grateful, wasn’t I? So glad for his attention, his touch. Even though I dressed it all up, determined not to end up like Mama. He acted as though he cared about that, didn’t he? I imagine that was a pretense, too.
How could she have been so foolish?
The gravel under her feet turned to grass. She had stormed across the courtyard and onto the lawn. Trees loomed overhead. The air was cooler here, smelling green. Green and wet, with dew already collecting on the grass. Her hem swept it up as she walked, getting wetter and wetter.
There was a stone bench just ahead, under a glade of trees. Almost without thinking, Amelia headed toward it. She reached the bench and flopped down in a most unladylike manner. The seat was, of course, very wet. The dew soaked into her gown, and she resisted the urge to groan.
Just when I think I can’t be more humiliated.
Well, what now? Where would she go? What would she do? It was only a matter of time before she was named in the scandal sheets. Only a matter of time before her parentage was discovered.
That would put her in danger, of course, but it would also put Marjory and Nancy in danger. There would be other dangers too, troubles ahead that she could not foresee. If Emmeline knew that Amelia was ruined, she might dismiss her anyway, knowing there’d be no repercussions from Stephen.
Or, she could marry him and prepare herself for a life of humiliation and neglect.
At least Marjory and Nancy would be safe. They’d have Letitia to dote on them. They’d have money, dowries, and opportunity.They could marry men who truly loved them. A good sister would provide for them.
She closed her eyes, gripping the edge of her seat, and tilted back her head. A cool breeze raked over her heated skin, cooling her instantly.
In the silence that followed, Amelia heard footsteps crunching on the gravel. She straightened, her eyes snapping open.
There was a man walking toward her. He had just crossed the gravel and stepped onto the grass. A moment later, and she wouldn’t have heard his footsteps at all. He carried a lantern, high around his face. It ruined her night vision and threw him into shadow. He was tall. He was…
