“Surely your parents left you some funds?” Amelia questioned.
“They did, but my cousin has cut off a great deal of my pin money. It won’t pay for another Season.” She shuddered. “And Icannotlive in his household.”
Amelia caught a hint of disgust from the young woman. She didn’t ask her to elaborate, but inquired, “Were you hoping to sew for money?” Though it wasn’t appropriate for an earl’s daughter, perhaps there was a way the young woman could do some work for the modiste, so long as it was in private with no one to see.
“No, I’m terrible at sewing,” Lady Sarah admitted. “I thought if I spoke with you here, you might understand my circumstances. I have to find a way out—someone to marry or someone who will take me far away from here. I…don’t have much time.” Her gaze dropped downward, and it was clear that this woman was at the end of her options. “I’m pleading with you for help.”
Margaret arrived and stood beside Amelia, holding an umbrella over her head to shield her from the rain. “Amelia, it’s time for us to return.”
She hesitated. If her family knew she was considering helping Lady Sarah, they would be livid. But neither did she want to step aside and look away when another woman needed help. If she was willing to work, to overcome her brother’s sins, then it was only right to give her a chance.
“Come and have tea with me this afternoon,” she said. “We can talk, at least.”
Her sister looked appalled, but Amelia held her ground. “Wasn’t it you who believed a lady should be charitable to those in need?” Without waiting for an answer, she returned inside the shop.
David stared at the list of seven women. Amelia had written the names of several respectable girls—Margaret among them. It didn’t surprise him that she wanted to set him up with her sister. They weren’t that far apart in age.
Margaret was polite enough, but he strongly doubted if she would consider a man like him. In the past, she’d tended to avoid him, choosing men who were younger and more conversational. Which was understandable, given his lack of interest in socializing.
He crossed off two others from the list because they had dark hair like his wife. Perhaps that was foolish, but he didn’t want another reminder of Katherine. He wanted someone as opposite from her as a rain cloud to a rainbow. Someone quiet and calm, who would teach an eleven-year-old girl how to become a respectable, well-behaved young woman.
Christine had begun asking questions he had no desire to answer. Questions that made him distinctly uncomfortable. He didn’t doubt that a woman like Amelia Andrews would answer every question his daughter posed, likely telling her far more than Christine needed to know. The idea made him wince, as did the thought of his daughter growing up. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to wed Amelia. But it did make him think of her earlier proposition, when she’d asked him to put in a good word with the viscount. He had no intention of trying to bring the pair of them together.
David pulled out a piece of paper and began composing his own list. Instead of writing seven names, he divided the paper in half and wroteInappropriate MenandAppropriate Men. He might as well be honest with Miss Andrews.
He wrote Lord Lisford’s name beneathInappropriate Menand beside it:a rake and a wastrel. Beneath him, he listed the names of several fortune hunters. Last, he wrote his own name upon the Inappropriate Men list. Beside it, he wrote:too old for you. He was three-and-thirty now. Although there were marriages between old men and young ladies, the true reason was that he’d known Amelia since she was sixteen. It made him feel like a satyr to be intrigued by such a young, fresh-faced girl.
When David started on the Appropriate Men list, he paused. While there were many gentlemen who were responsible and had strong fortunes, none were what Amelia would consider appealing. Even so, he wrote down their names and sealed the note with a bit of wax.
Her open letter seemed to taunt him, and he folded it up. Who was he trying to fool? He hadn’t been able to even enter his wife’s room within this town house since she’d died so long ago. Presumably the servants had gone inside to clean it.
He had to stop living like a recluse and face the truth. This had gone on long enough.
David left the study and climbed the staircase leading to the bedchambers. His wife’s room was beside his, but he’d kept the adjoining door securely locked. This time, he stood in front of her door, in the hallway. The knob was cool beneath his fingers, but it turned easily.
Inside, the room was shadowed and dark from the closed shutters. David crossed over to the window and opened it, letting the sunlight stream over the dusty furnishings. Katherine hadn’t come to London often, but sometimes he’d cajoled her into a visit.
Her bed had the same rose coverlet he’d teased her about—a little girl’s covers, not those of a grown woman. The chair closest to the hearth was where she’d spent hours reading. Upon the floor rested a familiar stack of books. He picked up the first title, remembering the way she had loved to curl up with a blanket and read late at night.
She’d been readingThe Life and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. A folded piece of paper marked the place where she’d left off. David opened it, and saw the shaky handwriting of Christine. His daughter had written:I LUV MAMAin large block print letters. Below it, she’d drawn a picture of herself with an enormous head and a body that resembled a potato.
The rush of emotion caught him low in the gut. His daughter had lived the past six years without a mother. She likely had veryfew memories of Katherine. David fingered the childish drawing and let out a deep breath.
“What should I do, Katherine?” he murmured. “Christine needs a new mother.”
The thought of replacing his wife was impossible to consider. He tried to imagine what sensible Katherine would say.
Think of our daughter, not yourself.
He set the book down on the stack and folded the drawing to put in his waistcoat pocket.You can do this, he told himself.Just choose a name from the list of women. Pick someone who would be good for Christine.
His own needs didn’t matter.
In that light, he returned to the list Amelia had sent. Surely some of them would fit his requirements for a mother for Christine. As for himself, he had a prosperous estate and a title. Wasn’t that enough to win the heart of one of them?
He walked to the door and glanced back at Katherine’s chair. For a time he studied it, trying to imagine her sitting with a book. But the image of her face was blurred from the years that had passed. It was harder to conjure the memory without a miniature before him.
“No one will replace you in my life,” he promised her ghost. “I swear it.”
