She turned to him. “If that’s the case, then the threshold for your amusement is pitiably low.” She stood, leaning to the left, then right, forward and backward, trying to stretch out the kinks that had developed.
“The famous Lady Amelia Crofton on her knees with a scrubbing brush. I daresay that’s a tidbit that would amuse the entireton.”
“I swear, Benedict. If you tell anyone about what you just saw, I will teach Cassandra the most annoying and banal piece of music I can find and insist she perform it for you. Nightly.”
He grabbed the hand she had pointed at him and tugged her close. Her body melted at the feeling of him against her. In the week since their argument, they’d tried to move forward. But despite their efforts, interactions between them had felt formal, their conversation stilted, their kisses perfunctory, and their nights spent in separate bedrooms.
Apparently, all she’d needed to breach the wall between them was to be caught looking completely disheveled.
“Your utterly shameful secret is safe with me. No one will know how delightfully determined you really are.” He ran a trail of kisses along her neck.
“Stop. I look horrid. I’m filthy.” The dress was ill-fitting and now covered in grey marks. She had streaks of dust up her arms and, she suspected, everywhere else.
“Then perhaps you need a bath. And someone to help you with it.” He ran his hand down her back and cupped her bottom, sending a line of heat coursing through her body.
“Now?” she asked.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured into the crevice of her throat.
She reached up greedily and drew his head to hers, desperate for a kiss.
He obliged, his tongue teasing against hers. She could feel his cock jutting against his breeches. She wriggled against it.
“We should stop.” He dragged himself away from her.
“Why?” She didn’t want to stop. She wanted him to take her upstairs and make love to her.
“It’s ungentlemanly to consort with the help.”
“You wretch.” She batted him on the shoulder.
He laughed. “Well if the bounds of propriety aren’t going to get in our way…” Scooping her into his arms, he carried her up to her bedroom, taking the steps two at a time.
Chapter26
Coach is in the drive!” Cassandra said. She was as excited as Benedict had ever heard her.
She’d been glued to the sitting room window for the past hour waiting for the first of their guests to arrive. While she’d been buzzing with excitement, he’d been sitting in an armchair pretending to read through Fiona’s latest report. In truth, he’d get to the end of a page without having taken in a single detail—his mind kept returning to the approaching hordes. And unlike his sister, he took no joy in their imminent arrival.
Amelia set down her needlework and stood, brushing away the slight wrinkles in her dress, smiling. She appeared genuinely happy, as though she was actually looking forward to having these people in their home.
He had to remind himself that these people were her friends, even if their behavior wasn’t something he’d tolerate in a friendship.
He was nervous—both that their presence would make her yearn for her old life and also that the event wasn’t going to go the way she hoped.
The last thing he wanted was to see her crushed.
“Remember what I said?” she asked Cassandra.
“Curtsey to everyone including the Americans. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Keep my hands clasped in front of me.”
Amelia smiled. “Good. Then let’s go.” They held hands as they left the sitting room, Amelia shooting a demanding look over her shoulder when she realized Benedict wasn’t following. He sighed and folded the paper before trailing after her.
The nervous energy in the house erupted into movement as they entered the hall. Tom handed Benedict a coat, and Daisy helped Amelia with her pelisse. Through the front windows, Benedict could see the rest of the staff marching out into a neat line by the entrance stairs. To their credit, with the exception of a few nervous shared glances, they looked completely unaffected by the arrival of the London crowd—the house’s first visitors since most of them were hired.
“Benedict?” Amelia’s concerned voice interrupted his drifting thoughts. She held out her hand, and he tucked it into the crook of his arm. Theoretically to support her, but they both knew the truth.
With a short nod at Tom to tell him to open the door, they walked out into the pale spring sunshine.
