Valerie pretended to ponder the matter for several seconds before smiling. “Yes, I suppose the cat and dog may attend as well.”
“I knew you would say yes,” David declared triumphantly, clapping his hands together with delight. “Shadow follows everyone anyway.”
Valerie laughed as she shook her head. “Particularly Uncle Gabriel,” she replied, exchanging a knowing glance with Amelia. “I believe Shadow has decided Uncle Gabriel belongs entirely to him.”
David giggled. “The cat is probably right.”
Amelia hid another smile behind her teacup, imagining Gabriel pretending to object while secretly ensuring the tiny creature was thoroughly spoiled.
The image warmed Amelia’s heart far more than it should have. Gabriel would deny possessing a soft heart until his final breath, yet his actions betrayed him time and again. He rescued frightened kittens, comforted wounded children, and brewed tea for restless governesses in the middle of the night while insisting it was nothing more than practical necessity.
The contradiction remains utterly infuriating.
It was also impossibly endearing. Amelia silently scolded herself for noticing such things quite so often.
Across the table, Lady Provie remained unusually quiet as she continued eating her breakfast with measured elegance. Every now and then, Amelia caught the older woman’s thoughtful gaze resting upon Valerie, though there seemed to be less criticism there than before. It was almost as though she were reassessing something she had previously taken for granted. Amelia found that possibility strangely unsettling.
David finished first, scraping the last spoonful of honey from his porridge bowl before setting the spoon down with obvious satisfaction.
“I am entirely finished with my porridge,” he announced proudly as he looked expectantly towards Valerie. “May we go outside now?”
Valerie dabbed her lips with her napkin before rising gracefully from her chair. “Of course,” she replied with a smile. “The sunshine has surely been waiting very patiently for us.”
David jumped down from his chair and hurried around the table to take Valerie’s hand.
“Come along,” he urged, tugging gently at her fingers. “The sunshine might disappear if we wait too long.”
Valerie laughed as she allowed him to pull her towards the door. “I believe the sun shall remain exactly where it is for at least another hour,” she said, smiling fondly at him.
“One cannot be too careful,” David replied with complete seriousness.
Amelia watched the siblings disappear into the corridor together, their laughter echoing faintly through the hall as the breakfast room grew quiet once more. Pride and heartache settled together inside her chest, impossible to separate from one another. Only a few weeks earlier, neither child had smiled so freely, and now, they looked exactly as children ought to look—safe, hopeful, and loved.
She prayed Gabriel would return soon with good news and spare them all from the problems Helen had cast over their lives.
As Amelia lifted her eyes, she found Lady Provie already watching her in thoughtful silence, and she suspected breakfastmight be finished, but the morning’s true battle had only just begun.
Amelia had survived runaway scandals, impossible dukes, and collapsing carriages, yet sharing breakfast alone with Gabriel’s aunt somehow ranked among the more difficult challenges. She resisted the urge to fidget beneath the scrutiny. Instead, she sat with the quiet dignity she had fought so hard to discover during her month at Anderton Manor.
Lady Provie carefully folded her napkin before resting it beside her untouched second slice of toast.
“Gabriel wrote in several of his letters that David never touched porridge,” she observed, lifting her eyes to Amelia with thoughtful curiosity. “He described breakfast as a daily military campaign in which David emerged victorious in not eating.”
Amelia could not help smiling at the image. “Yes,” she replied, wrapping both hands around her teacup, “that was certainly the case before I arrived.” She tilted her head slightly. “Now, he requests honey before anyone has even poured the milk.”
Lady Provie’s brows lifted ever so slightly. “That is… quite a transformation.”
Amelia nodded, warmth filling her chest at the thought of David’s delighted grin only moments before. “Children rarely dislike food quite as much as they dislike feeling frightened,” she said gently, tracing the rim of her cup with one finger. “Once Ihelped David realize breakfast was no longer a battlefield, the porridge became considerably less offensive.”
A tiny smile threatened at the corners of Lady Provie’s mouth before she quickly disguised it behind another sip of tea.
Amelia noticed the almost-smile and found herself strangely encouraged by it. Perhaps beneath all the starch, propriety, and alarming observations lurked an ordinary woman capable of admitting mistakes. It was an optimistic thought, certainly, but Amelia had become rather fond of optimism lately. A month ago, she would never have imagined herself confronting a countess over breakfast. Now it merely felt like another Tuesday.
Setting her cup onto its saucer, Amelia met Lady Provie’s gaze with quiet resolve.
“May I ask you something?” she inquired, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
Lady Provie inclined her head. “You may.”
