“Let me guess. You only had the idea to come to my roomafterJane had said something odd to you.”
Amelia hesitated. “Well, yes.”
He gave a brittle smile. “Jane was under Harry’s pay. She hinted at it herself, and Harry told me outright. Some coin and a kiss were her price, apparently. My guess is that Harry told her to create friction between you and me, and making you believe that I was a serial philanderer would do the trick. She saw her chance and took it.”
Amelia swallowed thickly, passing a hand over her face. “So… so you and Jane never…”
“No,” he answered tightly. “Never. Not once. Jane did attempt to flirt with me once or twice, but I just assumed that she did so with everybody. Do you know what seemed to offend her the most? That you were a mere seamstress. Why not a housemaid, then? She imagined that she could have been a duchess, too.”
Amelia sniffed. “And she’s right. It could have been her, just as easily as?—”
“No,” he interrupted at once, taking a step forward.
That simple step seemed almost to halve the distance between them, bringing him close enough for her to smell the cold night air and mist still clinging to his clothes. “No, Amelia. It could never have been Jane. It was only ever going to be you.”
His words sent a rush through her, something warm and thrilling. The wave was sudden and overwhelming, and Amelia turned around, trying to cling to the last vestiges of her composure. She tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders, swallowing thickly.
It was only ever going to be you.
What did that mean? Did it mean that, as Harry’s sister, thrown together as they were, Stephen could never have chosen anybody else for his revenge?
“What will happen to Harry now?” she asked after a moment, her voice trembling. “Will he go to gaol?”
“I don’t know. He’s a gentleman and a viscount, and judges are reluctant to imprison such men. But he’ll be punished for what he’s done, I can promise you that. I’m going to make sure that you and your sisters get the money and property that should have been yours. Your father did not strike me as a particularly moral man, or a strong one, but he was fair, and I believe he loved you and your family. You were never meant to be a pauper, Amelia.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t quite believe that it’s over.”
“Nothing is ever truly over. Nothing ever stays unchanged in this world, and it’s up to us to decide whether that is a good or a bad thing.”
Bittersweet. That was the word that came to Amelia’s mind. If nothing remained unchanged, then it meant that good and bad things alike would pass sooner or later.
I suppose it all depends on how one looks at it.
“Now that Harry is dealt with,” she said aloud, “and my sisters and I have a chance at receiving some money, I suppose I should go back home.”
There was a brief silence.
“Go home?” Stephen repeated.
She longed to turn around and look at him. Her back itched from the weight of his stare, but she forced herself not to move, staring unseeingly at the brick walls.
“Yes,” she answered simply.
“I thought that this was your home now.”
She twisted her fingers together. “It’s not fair to say that to me, Stephen.”
“I don’t understand.”
She whirled around. “It was never going to be my home. You only agreed to marry me to save yourself from scandal. Now thatmy birth and connection to Harry will become known and your revenge is complete, what further use could you possibly have for me? Let us be grateful that all of this came to an end the day before the wedding, instead of the day after.”
He stared at her, standing still as a statue in the half-light.
“What are you saying, Amelia?” he asked, choosing his words carefully.
She breathed in, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself to her full height.
That was a rare thing. For a woman, being tall was nothing short of a curse. Tallness was admired, in moderation. A tall, willowy woman was considered beautiful, provided that she had a slim figure and was not taller than the men.
