23. Chapter 23

Chapter twenty-three

James

T he sun pouring through my window mocked me. The world outside may have been bright and warm, but I had never felt more cold and dejected. I ran a hand through my hair, skimming over the end of the letter I held one last time.

I'm afraid I have no more insight to offer you in regards to the dowager duchess. It is my suggestion that you remove yourself from the woman's presence altogether. Should you find yourself in need of further support, do not hesitate to request it.

His Grace, the Duke of Rochester

A frustrated groan rumbled from my throat, and I tossed the letter onto my bed as I stood. I had hoped the duke would know something—anything, really—that would provide the leverage I needed to save Amelia from Sabrina. I'd suspected all along it was a useless endeavor to reach out to him again. He would have told me when we met in town had he known anything else. Still, I'd allowed myself to hope, and now the weight of disappointment threatened to crush me.

The letter was another blow for an already terrible morning. After Mr. Apsley had swept Amelia from the drawing room yesterday, I'd begun to doubt. She had called me by my Christian name, yes, but the way her face had paled when she noticed Sabrina watching us had shaken me. Amelia wasn't merely trapped; she was living in constant fear .

And, at present, I was in no position to help her.

Without having more to encourage Sabrina's silence, Amelia would never risk harming her sister's reputation, which meant she would never accept a proposal from me. The thought of losing her felt like a knife to my stomach, and I was helpless to do anything.

Must we both suffer for eternity under Sabrina's shadow?

Bitterness threatened to consume me. I had come to Fallborne believing myself free, but it was clear that I never was. Falling for Amelia had depleted my resentment toward Sabrina for jilting me, but it had created a new monster in its stead, a protective one frustrated with the realization that I could not save Amelia from her suffering.

I considered starting my own rumor simply to teach the duchess a lesson, but the notion died quickly. I was desperate, but I wouldn't stoop so low, not when there was a chance I could convince Amelia to marry me. I wouldn't pretend there would be no consequences, but I was certain we could face them.

Besides, Miss Grace knew about everything—Amelia's lineage, Sabrina's control and threats. Despite the risk to her own reputation, she had also ensured that I knew how her sister felt about me, or had felt at the least. Miss Grace had encouraged me to continue my pursuit. A woman who was unaccepting of the consequences would not have gone to such great efforts. Like me, Miss Grace wanted Amelia's freedom.

Her happiness.

I could not give up.

But that did not mean I would not question the wisdom of my decision. This morning, I had gone to Amelia's room, determined to solidify my intentions. I'd been prepared for rejection, or so I'd thought, but when she did not answer the door, defeat had struck me harder than a blacksmith striking metal. Had she chosen to ignore me? Had my declaration the night before made her uncomfortable?

In truth, I had yet to discern whether Amelia's tendre for me remained. Miss Grace seemed convinced, but her certainty did not extend to me. I had proposed to two women in the past, and neither attempt had resulted in matrimony. What if this was to be my third failure? Was I not meant to marry, to start a family of my own?

A deep ache spread through my chest. My parents had passed away so long ago, I hardly remembered what it was like to have a family. I yearned for the close interactions, the intimate conversations and banter. Gregory was the closest thing I had to a sibling, but even he did not fill the hole in my heart.

A wife could. Children could .

I had given up that dream. I had hid myself away, ran from the pain. Now the pain was gone, but I still experienced fury and anguish any time I looked at the duchess. The reason for those emotions may have changed, but not for the better. I felt like a raging fire, caged and longing to break free of my confines.

What would happen if I did?

Amelia had told me once that I could never be truly free while holding on to my anger. I had tossed the idea of forgiveness aside without a second thought. How could I forgive Sabrina when she showed no remorse for anything she had done or continued to do?

For so long, I'd felt justified in hating her, but it occurred to me now that I was the only one affected by the resentment. Sabrina continued to live her life. I was the one suffering by not letting it go, not her.

The last thing I wanted was to remain trapped after all my efforts. That wouldn't be fair to Amelia. It wasn't fair to myself, keeping me from the happiness I deserved.

I wasn't sure I could forgive Sabrina, but the sudden urge to try offered me some welcomed relief.

A scraping sound drew my attention to the door just as a sheet of paper slid beneath it. My lips rose in a smile as I crossed the room. What page had Miss Grace ripped from Amelia's diary this time? I had expected her to cease the activity now that she had been caught, but it seemed she was still determined.

I stooped over and retrieved the note, recognizing Amelia's familiar handwriting immediately.

My brows drew together at the lack of date at the top and her signature at the bottom. This was not a page from her diary, but an actual note, addressed to me.

Dear James,

Meet me in the garden by the Italian statues old fountain at noon. I must see you. Speak with you .

Yours,

Amelia

I traced my finger over the words Italian statues , which had been crossed out and replaced with old fountain above it sometime after the letter was originally written. I could tell because the ink used was subtly different, lighter in color, and the letters appeared rushed. Still, there was no doubt it had been penned by Amelia.

My heart pattered happily with anticipation. Perhaps I had more reason to hope than my doubt had allowed.

Meet me in the garden.

"As you wish, Miss Scott," I whispered with a grin. "But I have every intention of doing more than just that."