Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

T he tea on her tongue was bitter and nearly too hot. Amelia sat on the settee in Charlotte’s drawing room, and even though the drink had been prepared how she always took it, it tasted wrong.

Amelia, you are being melodramatic. You must put on a brave face.

She straightened, casting a happy glance at her friend as the finish of her laughter echoed through the room. Ethel and Selina were across from her on two seats, and Magnus stood with Isaac near the window. She’d asked to see her friends because Richard was leaving.

They believed they gathered in celebration while Amelia held the truth pinned tightly to her chest. She did not wish to be alone, nor did she want to remain in the house while the Duke had yet to make his exit. It was a pain she could not bear, and forcing herself to put on a happy act for her friends was a distraction.

“You have done it! You have sent the man back to his country home, no doubt with his tail tucked firmly between his legs.” Charlotte smiled at her, Selina cackling with glee as the lady spoke.

Amelia nodded, plastering on a firm smile that she dared not let fall. Ethel reached out and took the Duchess’s hand, squeezing her fingers.

“I am most happy for you that the scandal sheets have not affected your freedoms. Whoever continues to inscribe your name in their black books must certainly be tired of the hunt by now. You can rest at ease, which is much earned.”

Chuckling, Amelia reveled for a moment in the recollection. She had entirely forgotten why the Duke had come all this way, that scandal sheet long since pushed from her mind. It was a silly thing that had plagued her friend’s mind, and Amelia had half a mind to tell Ethel the truth, just so that she would not put so much weight into “publication.”

Still, there was no real good that would come from revealing all to Miss Ethel or any other in attendance, for that matter. It was Charlotte alone who knew more of the situation, and Amelia had done her duty to convince the lady that she was encouraging this get-together to enjoy the good news.

I cannot keep it from Charlotte forever, I fear. She sees through Amelia too readily, and this facade is one I will not wear successfully for long .

“It is a victory long overdue,” Amelia said, smiling before sipping at her tea once more.

“Indeed.” Isaac’s voice cut in from across the room, and he made his way to the seat near the settee on Amelia’s right side. “You are quite pleased then to have the Duke leaving?”

“Of course. He shall be out of my hair in three, no two days’ time, and I will return to my life spent amongst my friends.” She reached out and patted the back of Isaac’s hand, offering a smile that she hoped was warmer than the coldest claiming her. “While Lord Emerton may have hosted one of the finest dinner parties in some time, and though we may have lost that invitation, it is only a call to host an ever-more elaborate drum at Heartwick, to which you are all invited as always.”

Isaac grinned in earnest, and it appeared that he had accepted her statement as fact. He needn’t know that Amelia’s heart remained crushed beneath the heel of Richard’s boot.

“So shall I assume then that the greatest loss of your husband’s presence is the lack of invitation to a fabulous diner party?” Selina teased, a grin stretching her cheeks.

“You would be most certainly correct, Selina.” Amelia chuckled, but the pain behind her ribs kicked, and she was forced to take another drink of her quickly cooling tea.

“Perhaps you will now be once again able to indulge in the texts with me. I will never for the life of me understand the opposite sex’s issue with a woman who enjoys reading.” Ethel complained.

Magnus rolled his eyes so much that Amelia noticed it from clear across the room. Ethel was not entirely wrong, however. If anything, this time with Richard had shown Amelia that men were not of a similar mind in most things and too many were determined by circumstance and duty.

“Of course, Ethel. It would be my pleasure.”

Amelia swallowed, her sunny countenance faltering momentarily. She would remain a spinster wife for the remainder of her days, it seemed, and the thought hit with renewed accuracy as she fought to drink down another sip of her tea. Companionship was the desire of many, and it had become that much more difficult to ignore that ache in her chest after having enjoyed several experiences with Richard.

As much as Amelia did not care to admit it, the times with him had left her with a taste for his tending. She was quite confident that no one would be able to manage her newfound addiction as he could.

It was a horror to think about, but Amelia had become more self-aware as of late, and this connection with Richard was not solely about the physical. If it had been, she would have found herself a cicisbeo who cared not for the talk of the ton, which was far more common than anyone wished to admit. As long as matters were kept discreet, there were several of the ladies and lords of London who enjoyed relations outside their marital bed.

I could turn to another to gain their affections and stifle this burn within my skirts were it not for the fact that I want no one else besides Richard. And look where that has left me .

Worse, for the vulgar honesty of her thoughts, Amelia knew all too well that they came from a place of hurt. Her heart was surely crushed beyond effectiveness now, and a bitterness that she detested began to fester in her chest.

The room was suddenly far too tight and warm, and Amelia knew that fresh air would be required immediately.

“Charlotte,” Amelia turned toward her dearest friend, setting down her tea, “I wondered if I might lend your ear. I’ve enjoyed your pastries so much at previous events, and I should like to forward your chef’s recipe to my own.”

Lady Charlotte smiled, a knowing twinkle behind her sweet eyes. She stood up, taking Amelia’s hand and pulling her arm underneath hers. As she stepped around the group with the Duchess in tow, Charlotte addressed her brother.

“Magnus, I shall take Amelia to the kitchens to inquire about the pastries. Would you please be so kind as to entertain our guests within the drawing room while I see to this task?”

He nodded with a sigh, always one to avoid presentations and strenuous social encounters. “Of course, Sister.”

The others seemed happy enough to pay their attention to Magnus, and Charlotte escorted Amelia outside into the hall and down several paces. They were near the entrance when Charlotte stopped and pulled Amelia into the breakfast room at the front of their estate. In the empty room, the Duchess let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the wall as Charlotte closed the door over.

“I have a feeling my dearest friend has not been so forthcoming with me regarding her husband’s departure.”

Her eyes stinging, Amelia looked to Charlotte with a pained smile, ever trying to uphold that sunny disposition.

“He is to leave in now two days’ time. That I spoke of truthfully. Richard will be gone to Blackford estate, promising not to return.”

Walking to her side, Charlotte put a comforting hand on Amelia’s forearm. “And?”

“And I find myself wishing terribly that he might stay.” A single tear slipped down Amelia’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. “It’s likely the most foolish thing I have done in my life, but it appears that I have given my heart to the Duke, and I am unlikely to have it returned to me.”

“Amelia,” Charlotte whispered, pulling her into her arms, “I am sorry. We had all thought you would be so delighted to return to your life, and still, I knew that you had been feeling on edge regarding the Duke. Have you spoken to him of your feelings?”

Scrubbing over her face, the wetness seeping into the fine lace of her gloves, Amelia exhaled long. “In none so many words. We have spoken and so much was exchanged between us. Charlotte, Richard and I…I have given myself to him, and during this last, it had been… different . There was something there, I am sure of it. But still, I must be wrong. He is leaving. He is leaving Heartwick—and me.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened, her brows shooting to her hairline. It was a moment for the realization of Amelia’s meaning to sink in and then allow Charlotte to relax. She squeezed Amelia in a consoling embrace, dropping her head to the other woman’s shoulder.

“You truly love him, don’t you?”

All Amelia could do was nod, the motion rocking Charlotte gently against her.

“Oh, my dearest friend. I only wish there was more that I could offer you in consolation. It may not be too late to speak to the Duke. You could approach him before his departure and lay out your claims.”

“I do not believe he would hear Amelia out.” Amelia’s tone was exhausted, the strain of remaining alive nearly too much for her. “I am at a loss.”

“Do not give up on it just yet. Try to speak with him. For now,” Charlotte pulled Amelia up to stand, straightening her light jacket and then bonnet, “let us return to our celebration. I will drink with you in solidarity. The others need not know until this is settled.”

Amelia smiled gratefully, tilting her head as she regarded the woman whom she cared for so deeply.

“You are the sister I was not graced with by birth, my friend.”

“As you are to me, Amelia. Always.”

They came together in a brief embrace before Charlotte pulled Amelia along, and they began to make their way back to the drawing room. As they stepped out into the hall, Isaac stood just outside the door to their destination. His brows rose upon seeing them, and he offered a gentle smile.

“I was just making my way in search of you. Have you procured your recipe?”

Amelia faltered for a moment before remembering and nodded. “Why yes, thank you. I am most excited for the next drum to come. It shall be the talk of the town.”

Charlotte took the work of engaging in conversation on Amelia’s behalf for the remainder of the afternoon, and when it came time to return home, Amelia still had much to consider. The Duke was leaving in two days. Did she dare speak her truth to her husband, or would it be better to leave things as they were?