Was it Stephen?
Amelia’s treacherous heart flipped.
Then the man came closer, only a few feet away, and all hope drained out of her, replaced by a nasty coldness. She wanted to rise to her feet, maybe run, but where was the sense in that?
“Dear Amelia,” said her brother. “Are you crying?”
Amelia dashed at the tears clinging to her cheeks. “No. Why are you here, Harry?”
“I’m here for your wedding, of course. I wanted to talk to you.”
She stared at him for a long moment, swallowing.
What do I have to lose?
“Very well,” she said. “You have five minutes.”
CHAPTER 24
Harry stared down at her, wasting precious seconds of his five minutes. Amelia stared back, hoping her face was blank and impassive in the moonlight. She didn’t want to give him the slightest satisfaction of seeing her fear.
Part of her wished that she’d stood up when he approached. That at least would have put them at eye level, or nearly at least.
Her brother looked much as she remembered. The last time they met was at their father’s funeral. His hair was a few shades darker than hers, a deep auburn streaked with premature gray at the temples. Tall and rangy, he looked both too small and too large in his clothes. The material bunched at his shoulders and around his torso, yet seemed too short for his long limbs.
Since they last met, he had apparently dealt with his too-short breeches by investing in a pair of shiny Hessians. Amelia let her gaze rake down his frame. Her modiste’s eye told her that his clothes were expensive but poorly tailored to his figure. It was asif he wanted to buy expensive things but lacked the foresight or interest to make sure they fit him properly.
“Well?” she prompted. “Say something, Harry. Or should I call you Lord St. Louis? Would you prefer that?”
A muscle jumped in Harry’s jaw. “Don’t be like that, Amelia.”
She gave a bark of incredulous laughter. “You wished me dead, Harry. You wished all of us dead. You threw us out of our home, told us that our mama was likely burning inhell, and refused to lift a finger to help us. You are a monster. Do not play the doting brother now.”
He flinched visibly. “You misunderstand.”
“I don’t think that I do.”
“I… I am here, aren’t I? I was shocked to receive an invitation to your wedding, of course I was. Perhaps it was the reminder I needed. But now, now that you’re going to be married and respectable, why should we not be family? After all, you and the girls are my only family.”
“Family,” she snorted. “You have a great deal of audacity,Brother. We aren’t family. You made that clear enough.”
He rocked back on his heels as if she’d shoved him.
Clearing his throat, he nodded, dropping his chin. “Yes, I… I suppose that I did. Would it help if I told you now, to your face, that I mean you no harm?”
“Do you think I would believe you?”
“No, why… why would you?” he mumbled, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I suppose my letter was a little sharp. But please, consider the situation from my perspective. I had just lost my father, just as you had. I had no mother or sisters to console me, and I had to manage the tangle of that wretched estate. I won’t deny that I wished you all away. But can’t a man change his mind? Can’t a man regret what he did?”
Amelia folded her arms and glanced away. He sounded earnest enough, but that meant nothing. He had made no move to leap on her and strangle her, or anything equally terrible. Instead, he kept a respectful distance, shifting the heavy lantern awkwardly from hand to hand.
“But never mind that,” he continued. “You are crying, Amelia. You are upset.”
“No, I am not.”
“Youare. What is it? Is it the Duke? Did he do something to you?”
She glared at him. “Don’t you dare speak about him.Youdid somethingterribleto him, if you recall.”
