Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

S everal painstaking minutes had passed since Amelia had sat down with Baldwin. He was positioned across from her on a low couch placed beneath the study’s window while she stood in front of Richard’s desk.

Amelia rarely did business in this room, finding it too much of her husband’s essence. She could see the man’s preferences and style selections in each item chosen for the space, from the extensive mahogany writing desk to the collection of very particular books on the shelves, all those from his college days.

As she blinked, finishing her sip of tea, Amelia fought back the urge to sigh. She set her cup down on the desk, taking care not to spill so much as a drop onto the glossy wooden surface. Her saucer clicked gently as she tried to organize her thoughts. Richard had forced her into a situation that had no bearing on the actual needs of the household, and despite Baldwin’s seemingly polite air, the fact was that they were not looking for a new steward.

“Baldwin,” Amelia began, “Mr. Stanley, I appreciate that you have come all this way to discuss the position of steward for the Heartwick estate. However, I regret to inform you that the position is already filled. We are quite pleased with Mr. Dannish and the care he has taken with the position.”

The man shifted in his chair, returning his own cup of coffee to the small table to the right of the sofa. As he met her eyes once more, they were direct and unblinking, his nearly emotionless expression pressing down on Amelia uncomfortably.

“I am sure you think that, Your Grace. But I assure you that I am the right person for the position. Regardless of the need you might have—whatever unseemly or insignificant task—I can service you to the last. Furthermore, as you are of the fairer sex, I understand your fascination with spending. A fact His Grace alluded to. I am more than capable of reining in these misguided decisions, staying your hand whenever the impulse might strike.”

Amelia’s jaw dropped open, and she blinked rapidly as she attempted to digest the words spewed by Mr. Stanley. The furious pounding in her ears was nearly deafening, and she instinctively clutched her hands into fists at her sides.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stanley, but I am quite capable myself. I do not require any amount of guidance regarding the estate’s budget or any other matter of the household. As stated, the position is not available. Good day.”

She gestured toward the door, assuming that the man was more than able to show himself out since he was evidently quite the “nonesuch” of the working class.

“There is no need to be coy, mistress. I am all too aware of what needs to be done. I have served similarly before, assisting many a lonely lady of the house to manage affairs when their husbands have taken to the country and beyond. And I can be sure that your recorded behavior keeps the Duke in good spirits so that he might remain there indefinitely.”

Amelia blanched. The man couldn’t possibly be saying what she thought he was. She would never disrespect her husband so much as to have extramarital relations, let alone with a man hired to replace the estate’s longest-standing employees.

In any case, she would not hear more of this conversation. Amelia turned toward the door, crossing the long room so that she might open things up and have one of the maids or the butler show Mr. Stanley out. She would speak to her husband about ensuring he didn’t return after he had gone.

“I assure you, Mr. Stanley, whatever services you think you might render here are not required. And now I do believe it is time for you to be going. I shall have one of the servants show you out.”

But just as she was reaching for the knob, a meaty hand grabbed hold of her arm, and Amelia yelped.

“We’ll have none of that, mistress. You haven’t given my offer its due consideration.”

Yanking, Amelia attempted to pull her arm free of Baldwin’s grip. Still, he held firm, his fingertips pressing into the delicate skin behind her elbow tightly enough to bruise.

“Take your hand off Amelia at once. This is absurd!”

But though she trashed against his hold, Baldwin did not relent, and Amelia lost her footing as the man began to walk her into the wall next to the door.

“Now, now. Your husband was quite insistent that this is what was required to set him at ease. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the Duke, would you?”

Unease coated Amelia like wearing a chemise that had not thoroughly dried, her skin clammy and chilled. She shook her head, still working to get her arm free by now shoving at Baldwin’s arm with her free hand. In her distraction, however, the man was able to get another grasp on her waist, his fingers beginning to bunch up the fabric of her skirts.

“Unhand me!”

Panic gripped Amelia, sending her pulse into a wild rush that beat through her temples and neck. But then the door next to her flew open, and Richard barged in, followed by his friend, Frederick.

He went straight for the man, grabbing him around the throat and hauling him off of her. Amelia was left gasping against the wall as Richard threw Baldwin to the floor.

“Get out of my house! Should I see you dare to come near it again, I shall have you thrown into the darkest corners of a prison cell!”

Frederick scooped up Mr. Stanley and yanked him forward, dragging him from the room toward the front door. All Amelia could do was blankly stare forward as she caught her breath. Everything spun around her, and just as quickly as Richard had entered, she began to slide down the wall.

A sure grip found her elbows, and she flinched, relaxing when she realized that it was her husband guiding her to the sofa. As they walked together, Richard shouted out through the now-open door to the study.

“Get him off the property! Be sure he is blacklisted throughout the City! He shall never work in Town again!”

Dazed, Amelia felt the softness of a cushion take her weight as she was set down. When she looked at her hands, they trembled slightly. Richard was seated next to her, and as the shock of the last few moments receded, a terrible anger filled her to bursting.

“Who did you bring into our house? That man…How could you let this happen?!”

Richard stared back at her, his face pulled taught into a steely scowl.

“Well? Say something!”