“Ah, yes, the journal.” He pulled open his study door. “The English half gets killed because of that.”
* * *
Amanda raised her face to the dappled sun coming through the branches. The day had grown hot, and the shade in this little grove of trees at the back of the garden meant two breezes skimmed her skin, one quite warm and the other very cool. The latter one heralded the coming evening, Already the nights had started changing in temperature while the earlier sunsets spoke of autumn’s approach.
Just as well that Gabriel had changed his mind about having her see the duchess today. When word had come that she should join them in the drawing room even after saying she preferred to wait, it had vexed her. She dressed her best, however, and even pinned on the locket. It dangled now, a tiny weight that she felt with every breath. The subsequent command that she not visit the drawing room had relieved her.
She wondered why the duchess had come here. Gabriel had said they would go to the duchess.
She turned her mind to her visit to the print shop. Each day that passed made her more impatient to see her mother’s hand again in a letter. She had come to fear that they faced real danger with this man who held her, whoever he was.
“Miss Waverly. Amanda, dear.”
She sat up straight. Someone had called her name. A woman.
“Oh, Miss Waverrrrrlllyyyy.”
Closer now. It sounded like—oh, please, no. She glanced around, wondering if she could hide. She eyed the wall behind the trees, then the narrow skirt of her dress. She would never get over it in this garment.
“My dear, please show yourself. I know you are here somewhere.”
“She should not have to talk to us if she does not want to, Dorothy,” another voice said. The duchess.
“I will not leave until I am reassured she is of sound and willing mind, Clara. A devil like that can turn a woman’s head until she is a half-wit.”
“Miss Waverly never seemed a woman to become so besotted she would lose her wits over a man,” a third voice said. Mrs. Galbreath was here too.
“We should leave her to her own choices, Dorothy.”
“Oh, tosh. She is—was—an innocent. Green as spring grass. How that man managed to find her and work his wiles on her I do not know, but Miss Waverly would never, ever take up residence like this, with all it implies and the damnation that follows, unless she were bewitched. Miss Waverly, please show yourself, dear.”
Amanda sighed. She stood and walked through the trees and out into the sunlight.
“Ah, there you are.” Lady Farnsworth swooped down and embraced her, then set her back and gave her a long look.
The duchess and Mrs. Galbreath drew close.
“She appears healthy and sane to me, Dorothy,” the duchess said.
“Yes, Your Grace. I am quite well.”
“What are you doing here?” Lady Farnsworth asked earnestly. “You said you were leaving town, then I find you here, of all places.”
The way Amanda saw it, she had a choice. Lie outright, lie cleverly, or tell the truth.
“I am staying with Langford for a short while only.”
“See, Dorothy. She is a visitor as he said. A houseguest.”
“Oh, tosh. Unmarried women are never simply houseguests of unmarried men unless they are chaperoned.” Lady Farnsworth’s gaze turned sympathetic. “That scoundrel imposed on you, didn’t he? Then he lured you here so he did not even have to inconvenience himself to have his way. You can tell me, dear. I will make him pay dearly for misusing you.”
“He did not misuse me, nor did he impose. We are lovers, that is true, but in a manner of speaking, I seduced him. I do not expect you to approve.”
That rendered Lady Farnsworth aghast and speechless. Behind her, Mrs. Galbreath and the duchess exchanged knowing glances.
The duchess stepped around Lady Farnsworth. “Let us go into the house, Miss Waverly. We take you at your word that you are neither importuned nor unhappy. Indulge us, however, while we reassure ourselves that you have thought clearly about what you are doing. This is Langford, after all.”
Chapter Nineteen
