She’d taken so much for granted living in her uncle’s home. Althea truly hadn’t appreciated the inconveniences the servants may experience. She’d often asked for a tray in her room, just as she’d done her last night in London.
However, going without a meal was no hardship either, and tonight she’d enjoy the quietness and attempt to read the book that she’d taken from Lord Melcombe’s library. On the morrow she’d take the girls to the dress shop and lessons would once again begin on the following day, then hopefully, everything would return to as it should be, as it had been when she’d first arrived.
However, the book was not holding her interest. How could she concentrate on anything when her mind was filled with Lord Melcombe and wondering what his intentions were?
She wanted him, more so now that he’d kissed her, and when he caught her when she fell, her body had come alive with need.
As for Melcombe. He desired her, and that’s all she knew.
It was so frustrating.
At the scratch on her door, Althea rose to answer it to find Delia and Matilda.
“We need your assistance, Miss Claywell,” Delia announced.
“How so?”
“Taking Winifred back downstairs,” Matilda answered. “A footman brought her up, but none are available to take her back down.”
“Neither is Uncle Preston,” Delia quickly added.
The child had been up walking shortly before Althea had come above stairs, but Winifred had also been limping so the stairs may prove to be too much.
“You don’t need to carry her, just offer support. I’ll go before her in case she falls, and Matilda will follow, for the same reason.”
It was a reasonable request. “I’d be happy to assist,” Althea finally agreed.
It took nearly twice as long to get down the stairs as it normally would with Winifred holding onto the banister and limply hopping to the next step. Althea held her breath and held onto the child each time, certain that she was going to take a tumble before they finally reached the entry. Once it was gained, Althea turned to retreat up the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
She glanced up to find Lord Melcombe framed in the doorway of the parlor. He was dressed more formally than his usual attire, and now that she thought on it, the girls were dressed nicer too, even though they remained in black.
“I’m returning to my chamber,” she answered.
He frowned. “You won’t be joining us for supper?”
“It wouldn’t be proper to intrude on your family.”
“I insist,” he said quietly, his blue eyes darkening to nearly cobalt.
Althea’s breath hitched and as much as she wished to join them, to be a part of the family, it was too dangerous. Until then, she must keep her distance.
“Please, Miss Claywell, you simply must,” Teddy said.
“There’s going to be cakes and games,” Winifred reminded her.
“It’s not proper,” she said to the girls, but happy that they wished for her presence.
“I say it is,” Lord Melcombe stated. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint my nieces, would you?”
Blatant manipulation, or simply stating a fact?
Althea looked to the expectant faces of the girls and gave in. “I’m happy to join you. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Shall we go into supper?” he asked with a grin.
“I’m not really dressed for a formal meal,” she said as she realized she wore what she’d put on this morning, and likely had smelled of evergreens.
