Chapter 4

Chapter Four

T he drawing room was a flurry of activity after Charlotte’s arrival. Her brother, Magnus, had, of course, accompanied her, and the two were followed by Selina, Ethel, and Isaac as well. Amelia had instructed the housemaids to warm the room this morning with a fire as the chilled air cut through the estate like a knife. Tea with biscuits had been set out for them all to enjoy, and conversation easily flowed through the airy room.

Amelia had also let it be known that she was at home today for any of those who might call. While the Duke certainly knew that this was a requirement of the mistress if she were to receive any formal invitations for the Season’s events as well as correspondence, he seemed perturbed that Amelia would be remaining within the estate for the day.

The sound of Charlotte’s porcelain cup hitting her saucer drew the Duchess out of her mind. She regarded her with an easy smile, leaning closer so that Amelia might speak in a softer volume.

“He’s returned, as you know, and it has not yet been a full day and the man has seen fit to challenge my every action as mistress of this house. He even dared to mention my dismissal of the past to kitchen maids right after he dismissed Amelia from my own bedroom for the evening.”

Charlotte gasped, her gloved hand going to her lips. “He didn’t. The Duke forbid you from sleeping in your own room?”

“I was apparently quite mistaken in thinking that the largest suite should be mine since the Duke has been residing in Blackford these past years.” Amelia shook her head with a slight roll of her eyes. “And mistaken about everything else as well, apparently.”

“Amelia, that’s terrible. And weren’t the maids caught with their hands in stores, stealing from the estate?” Charlotte asked with her brows at her hairline.

“Indeed they were. I was not about to let thieves continue in our employ, and yet, the Duke did not or would not see reason. He is as high in the instep as any I’ve met and were he in charge of the household staff, I am certain he would prove himself a terrible gull.”

Charlotte snickered quietly as she sipped her tea, and Amelia reached for her own, needing something to do with her hands so that she would stop clenching them into fists.

“It is most cruel of him to inject in your matters of the house, Your Grace. It is clear that the Duke has no true knowledge of all that you have done for Heartwick since you’re arrival.”

Amelia turned to Isaac with a grateful smile. He nodded at her, putting his hand to his chest as he tipped forward in his chair. Sentimentality had always run strong through the man, and he was often one to lay compliments on her, praising the work done in her role as Duchess of Blackford.

While it was always done in earnest, and the man was of a gentle sort, Amelia was quick to dismiss the flattery. She didn’t run the household to earn complements or favor with those around her. This was her home, and though her insistent need to make those around her happy had calmed, Amelia was still committed to making sure the house was well looked after and a place of contentment.

“Thank you, Isaac,” she replied. “In truth, it looks as if the Duke has an issue with nearly every decision I’ve made for the home. But…”

She let the word hang as she glanced over each of her friends in attendance, making sure that they all listened to her words assiduously.

“A plan has come to mind to ensure the Duke is ready to return to the country shortly.”

“Oh, and what pray tell do you plan to do about him?” Magnus asked.

Regarding them all, Amelia lowered her voice, doing her best to ensure that the maids posted against the wall could not hear their conversation.

“I intend to show the Duke that residing with Amelia can be quite the chore. Adjusting the way I take care of the house will prove too much of an annoyance for him to push the issue further. When he sees that the home runs quite well and that I am perhaps…eccentric, my husband with abscond to the countryside with haste.”

Selina scoffed, laughing under her breath. “To be quite honest, dear, I cannot believe that it will take much to convince the Duke that you are a difficult woman to live with.”

Frowning at her, Amelia narrowed her eyes on Selina, who flinched back before adding to her statement.

“I only mean that you have lived alone without the need to accommodate a husband. That alone will cause friction. Trust me. When I first began my life with my late husband, it was quite the change from my previous day-to-day life. Small habits and the like can prove exceedingly challenging to put aside.”

Her friend had a point. Amelia wasn’t used to living with anyone. She’d long heard that learning to live in a house as a couple could put quite the strain on any relationship, let alone one that had been so fraught with tension and distrust right from the beginning.

“I see your meaning, Selina,” Amelia chewed out, doing her best to maintain her manners even though Selina was constantly testing them. “And yes, that was precisely what I was thinking. Demonstrating how I am accustomed to doing things, putting more fervor behind some of the more irritating habits, could very well drive the man back to Blackford.”

“What do you intend on doing?” Ethel set her teacup down, along with the book that she’d been idly reading while the others gossiped.

With a grin, Amelia took another sip of her own beverage, feeling sly in her clever thinking.

“The first thought was to make a terrible racket during the night. I could blame night terrors and discomfort on my need to moan and wander about the halls.”

“Oh, that is clever. Perhaps you could also tend to his clothing with too hot an iron or purchase new bouquets that are sure to make the Duke sneeze?”

“Well done, Charlotte. Those are excellent suggestions. If I recall from our wedding, the Duke is quite affected by lavender. It would be no task at all to add it to the washing and don the halls with several bundles.”

The room warmed with their laughter, and even Ethel grinned at the thought of making the Duke sneeze until he had to go lie down for the evening. Selina had finished her tea when she spoke up with her own suggestions as well.

“You could throw another of your famous drums since the Duke seems fit to loathe them. And invite several to join you at home as your husband is likely accustomed to the quiet of the country.”

Amelia nodded emphatically. “Selina, you do have quite the mind for this sort of thing. Remind us all to remain in your good graces.”

Her friend smiled back at her, and Charlotte leaned into the center of the small conversation circle they had all formed.

“Why wait? Is the Duke not studying just next door? Perhaps a little game would pass the time well since it is so dreadful outside.”

It was exceedingly foul weather, a storm drenching the streets in the rain as thunder rumbled overhead. Amelia cast a wicked glance over her shoulder at the wall where a fire warmed the room. Richard was just on the other side of it, looking over the ledgers apparently. There was nothing to find in them that hadn’t been double and triple-checked by her already, and her husband wasn’t going to find anything of actual concern.

Five years of running this estate had gone by as smoothly as one might expect. Amelia knew that should her accounts or decisions cause genuine concern for the estate, the Duke would have returned much sooner. But she had never been in overdraft at the bank, even as it was regularly common, and her credit expenses were all in line with what the estate could afford to pay back.

“An excellent idea, Charlotte. He is presently looking over my receipts. I am certain he would not appreciate a distraction.”

The young woman smiled; her sweet, rosy cheeks and lovely teal eyes filled with excitement. “A game of Blind Man’s Bluff, perhaps?”

Amelia was quick to nod and stand up from her seat on the settee. “Perfect choice, dear. Do close the curtains so that we can darken the space. I shall be it.”

The others readily joined Charlotte in closing the curtains and readying the space for the game by moving the furniture to the walls. Though Magnus grumbled incessantly during the entire affair. He took up a spot near Isaac, his stern countenance as humorless as ever.

“Be at ease, Magnus,” Ethel jabbed, playfully shoving her book toward him. “If you have need of it, you may always borrow the tome for better entertainment. Surely something must be done if you are to avoid making the crease between your brows permanent.”

He glared at her, roughly seizing the book that nudged at his ribs and setting it down on the small table that sat beneath the window. Ethel did her best to hide her grin behind her hand while Magnus turned back to Amelia.

“Shall we begin this little game of yours then?”

Amelia grinned, closing her eyes and turning around a few times to keep herself from remembering her friends’ location. In just a few short moments, Amelia began to stumble around the room, running into furniture as her friends laughed.

“I shall find at least one of you!” Amelia giggled, totally at a loss for where she was in the room and walking solidly into the edge of the couch.

The carved wood collided with the bone at the front of her leg, and she immediately stopped, reaching down to rub the growing bruise.

“Oof! Not a minute, and she has landed herself into the settee.” Charlotte laughed, and Amelia spun around, hearing her friend’s voice from the other side of the room.

“Ah ha!” Amelia pointed blindly. “So you are on that side of the room!”

The giggling persisted, but each of her friends quieted, not wishing to give away their positions. It was no matter, however. Amelia confidently crossed the room toward where she’d heard Charlotte, her arms outstretched before her.

Unfortunately, Blind Man’s Bluff was a challenging, silly game that was meant to be played out of doors in the fresh air. There, she would have had plenty of space, but in the drawing room, it wasn’t two more steps before Amelia crashed into one of the chairs and keened backward.

Nearly tripping, Amelia flailed in front of her, ready to hit the ground and land squarely on her behind. It was a part of the nonsense this particular game entailed, and she was quite determined to finish the round without cheating.

Suddenly, however, a set of hands grasped her around the waist, and Amelia was saved from hitting the floor. Smiling, she turned around to face whoever had helped her, eyes still closed. Isaac was a chivalrous sort, and she could sense that the person now before her was tall and masculine. Still, it was equally possible that it was Magnus who’d helped her.

“Oh, well, you are too kind. Thank you for forfeiting your position by helping me.”

The comment was responded to with only silence, and as Amelia ran her hands up the arms of her savior, she began to realize that the person holding her was far taller than even Magnus, who was a statuesque man, to be sure.

Panic gripped her chest, her heart thudding against her ribcage as Amelia put together who truly owned the hands still clasped onto her waist. Heat bloomed through her cheeks, and she was unable to keep herself from releasing a thready breath.

She was about to speak, about to step back, when her husband hummed lowly in his throat and leaned closer so that she could feel the tickle of his breath by her ear.

“I do hope you’re enjoying yourself, Amelia. Your revelry has carried on so loudly that I wondered if you’d invited the entirety of London into the drawing room.”

A shiver worked through her spine unbidden, and Amelia silently cursed herself for the fear and intrigue that swelled within her at the deep intensity of Richard’s voice.

The annoyance was evident in the Duke’s tone, of course. And after only a second, he stepped back from her in a hard rush that caused Amelia to wobble on her feet momentarily. Gripping her arm just about the wrist, Richard cleared his throat before addressing the room.

“Open the curtains at once.” Amelia’s eyes flew open at that, and she gaped as her husband pointed toward the door. “Your little game must come to an end. I’ve several vital accounts to study, and the Duchess must undoubtedly take a rest after such a stumble.”

Her friends could do little to impede the Duke’s command. It was not their place. And so, they each took to the room to brighten it once more before taking their leave with hastily given farewells.

When Amelia stood alone in the drawing room with her husband, fury burned through her veins. She’d intended to invoke the man’s ire to a certain degree, of course, but it was a genuine shock that he would send away her closest friends so abruptly.

“I do not think it possible for you to have gotten my guests out of the house faster, Your Grace. It appears that any sense of propriety that you might have shown them was left in the study with the ledgers.”

Richard glared at her, his fingers squeezing enough on her wrist that Amelia had to snatch it away.

“Your friends were carrying on so thunderously that any in the entire manse would be able to hear their ridiculous giggling. If this is what you fill your day with so avidly, it isn’t a wonder that the accounts are full of receipts for drink.”

Amelia scoffed, horrified by his suggestion that all she did all day was get foxed.

“Our cups are full of nothing but the tea that I’ve ordered religiously since my arrival to the estate—alone. I have taken care to ensure there is sugar and cream for each guest’s cup, and you may inquire yourself with the shops to get an account of my orders. You’ll see soon enough that they are in line with any fine household making a gracious presentation for its community.”

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, his stare tracking down to the floor. “They are not to return, Amelia. I have work to do, and I cannot be?—”

“You will not keep my only friends from visiting me.” She glared, her throat clamping down around her words. “What little joy exists in my life is thanks entirely to them.”

“Perhaps then,” Richard started, meeting Amelia’s glare with one of his one, fiery and pointed, “you should have considered that before you took your leave to do whatever you please with my estate.”

Her mouth fell open, and Amelia stumbled backward until her legs hit the chaise.

“I am Duchess Blackford,” she said, her voice quiet. “I am mistress of this house, and it has been my duty to oversee it these five years. Despite what you might think and despite your very words on the day of your departure, I have done so with my whole heart and have left any practical application of ‘convenience’ to the wayside.”

Before her, Richard ground his molars, the tension so evident in his jaw and neck that Amelia could track the veins and muscles beneath his skin as he seethed.

“I shall not indulge this conversation. Good day.”

With that, her husband left the drawing room, the space now empty save for her. Amelia felt the bile rising in her throat and struggled to breathe deep enough to scatter her anger. It was not proving effective, and as she stood up from the chaise and leveled her stare at the door, she made a quiet promise to herself.

If he shall see fit to interrupt one of my few times of happiness, I shall see fit to interrupt his slumber.