Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

A melia's eyes fluttered open, softly snorting a little when she breathed in a strand of her own hair. Groggy, she sat up and resisted the urge to comb her fingers through her undoubtedly tangled tresses. Her last memory was of laying on top of Gideon in the library, lulled by his steady breaths into sleep. Presently, she was in her bedchamber. She wondered if he had carried her to her rooms after she had dozed off. And she was only in her shift now. Had he undressed her too?

A knock sounded at her door, disrupting the bashful smile that touched her lips. Amelia flushed as if she'd already been caught, trying to rid of the redness burning her cheeks. "Yes?" she called.

A sharp pang of disappointment sliced through her when Jenny poked her head through the door. "Good morning, Your Grace. I hope you slept well?"

"I did, thank you," Amelia answered truthfully. That had been the best night of sleep she'd had since arriving at Castle Stanhope and she was certain it had everything to do with the arms she had fallen asleep in.

Jenny smiled at that. "That's wonderful to hear. I have come to assist you with your morning routine, but I also come bearing news."

"Is it from His Grace?" Amelia asked, a little breathless with eagerness.

If Jenny noticed the hopeful tone, she gave no indication. "I have been asked to let you know that His Grace is engaged with meetings for the morning and will not be joining you for breakfast."

"Ah, I see." Hiding her sharp disappointment, Amelia pulled herself out of bed, stretching her limbs. "Well, I suppose I should find a way to occupy myself today, shouldn't I?"

"I have just the thing, Your Grace!" Jenny sounded chipper, making her way over to Amelia's wardrobe. "A messenger sent word from the Viscountess of Hendale. It seems she intends to come by for a visit later this afternoon."

"My aunt? That's the last thing I needed today."

Jenny froze, taken aback by the brusqueness and Amelia instantly felt a little guilty for how harsh she had sounded.

"My aunt and I do not have the best relationship," Amelia quickly clarified. She spread a dressing gown about herself, then settled before the vanity and picked up her hairbrush, needing to do something with her hands to distract herself from the uncomfortable prickly sensation that spiked through her body at the memory of her past life. It seemed like it was an eternity away now. Ever since she had arrived at Castle Stanhope, she hadn't given that life a daylight's thought. "I stayed with the Viscount and Viscountess of Hendale after my father passed away and, well, let's just say I did not have the most pleasant time in their care."

"Oh, my apologies, Your Grace." Jenny approached quietly from behind. Glancing behind her in the mirror, Amelia saw that her maid had already laid her dress for the day out on the bed. "I was not aware."

Amelia smiled for her maid through the reflection. "It is not your fault, Jenny, you weren't to know. I hold no resentment towards my aunt but I cannot say I wish to share in her company. I sincerely doubt her visit has any genuine intentions behind it anyway."

"Ah, I see." Jenny accepted the brush Amelia conceded over to her. Amelia could tell that she wanted to say something else, so she waited to see if her maid would gather the courage. "Is your relationship with your uncle strained as well?"

"It is, but in an entirely different manner. He provided for me from a distance in a basic way, as one might tend to a farm animal. I suppose it should not have bothered me to know that I would never receive any affection or approval from him but it did."

"But not anymore," Jenny stated, already picking up on what Amelia was saying.

"Not anymore," she affirmed, offering a smile that didn't quite match the somberness of their conversation. "I suppose I've grown past the need for their approval or affection."

"That is wonderful, Your Grace." Jenny stilled, catching herself. "I-I mean, it is regrettable that they did not treat you well, but I am glad you have found your happiness now."

Amelia giggled. "Much of that happiness came from being able to talk so openly with you."

Jenny flushed, lowering her eyes. She resumed her task of styling Amelia's hair with renewed focus. "You are too kind, Your Grace. I am just a maid."

"You are my friend. My first true friend. And for that, I cherish you greatly."

At last, a heartening but repressed smile touched Jenny's lips. "Thank you, Your Grace. For considering me your friend."

"It is the truth, Jenny. Now, as a friend, I hope you wouldn't mind accompanying me for a stroll through the woods by the gardens."

"The woods?"

"Yes, I am quite intrigued by them," Amelia shared, careful to keep her head still. "I have contemplated visiting them for some time now, but I have to admit I am too much of a coward to do so alone."

"Well, in that case," Jenny answered with a bright smile. Her deft fingers moved swiftly, twisting Amelia's well-brushed hair into an elegant chignon. "I would be more than happy to accompany you. I have walked those paths so often, I could navigate them blindfolded."

"Wonderful! It is settled then, you will be my guide."

"It would be my honor, Your Grace," Jenny agreed with a laugh, to which Amelia joined in. Her earlier disappointment had long since disappeared. She did want to see Gideon. At this point, she wanted to spend every second she could with him, an unusual feeling for someone who was ordinarily all too content to be in her own company. But time spent with Jenny was just as welcomed.

She was about to say something else but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Amelia called for the person to enter, her toes curling at the thought that it might be her husband. However, when the butler entered, Amelia was becoming accustomed to the twinge of letdown.

"Please pardon the intrusion, Your Grace," he greeted, bowing deeply. "I trust you had a good sleep?"

"I did, thank you," Amelia met his eyes in the mirror. "Is there anything I can help you with, Thomas?"

He held up a folded envelope that bore no seal. "Some correspondence arrived for Your Grace earlier this morning."

Amelia instantly recognized it as one from Dorothy, her heart lifting even before she read it. Her last letter to Dorothy had been a week ago and she had been eagerly awaiting a response since then. "You may leave it on my desk."

After placing it there, the butler bowed once more, taking a step back. "If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Thomas. Oh, and do extend my regards to Gideon," she added as an afterthought, hoping to lighten the mood.

She could have sworn mirth flashed in his eyes as he nodded. "I am certain that he will receive it warmly, Your Grace."

Amelia beamed at his response and watched as he left, her mind lingering on his last words. Her yearning to see Gideon all but overwhelmed her at that point, but she tucked the urge away, knowing that she would have to do without his presence for now.

Goodness, what has gotten into me? Amelia could hardly believe how much had changed since she'd first arrived. With a content sigh, she glanced at the letter in the reflection. She could read it later, it left her with something to look forward to. For now, she wished to live for herself, if only for the morning.

It didn't take her very long to get dressed after her hair had been arranged. Amelia donned a gown of rich jade and a matching bonnet, intent on taking a morning stroll through the gardens to whet her appetite before breakfast. It was still quite early, after all.

The gardens of the castle were vast and somewhat imposing. But the daunting landscape before her wasn't a bother since she spent most of the time talking with Jenny about all manners of things. Jenny, comfortable once more, jabbered on about a footman she had become smitten with, who no longer worked at Castle Stanhope. Apparently, the young man had resigned to move back to the countryside to care for his ailing mother. They exchanged letters every now and then, and, from the sound of it, it seemed as if this young man was quite smitten with Jenny as well.

Amelia was so engrossed in the conversation that she hadn't realized they'd wandered quite far from the gardens. She slowed her steps, glancing behind her at the distant castle. The more they walked, the more secluded they seemed to become, as if they were worlds away from London rather than on its outskirts.

"Are you enjoying the scenery, Your Grace?" Jenny asked, slowing as well to keep pace with Amelia.

Amelia nodded, shifting her attention to the thick beech trees that were steadily enclosing them. The path they headed down seemed well-traveled, the lush green grass lining the edges alongside dots of wildflowers. Amelia inhaled deeply. She hadn't felt this at peace since the days before her father passed, before they'd lost everything and she'd been forced to live with her uncle.

Jenny beamed as if the well-being of the woods was personally under her care. A comfortable silence fell over them as they trudged deeper within, the rustle of leaves and distant bird calls filling the space instead. A gentle breeze brushed against Amelia's ankles and she was suddenly tempted with the desire to take off her bonnet and undo her hair. She held back the impulse, however.

Just as they were about to veer down another trail, Jenny spoke up from behind, her tone tinged with anxiousness suddenly, "Perhaps we should think about heading back to the castle, Your Grace."

"Oh, but we've hardly begun." Amelia pressed on in fanciful curiosity without looking back.

"Yes, but… well, I am not quite familiar with this part of the woods," Jenny confessed.

"Don't worry, we shan't be lost." Idly, Amelia brushed her hand against a moss-covered tree as she wandered by. The air was getting colder, the trees denser. "We have scarcely taken any turns so I'm sure we'll be able to find our way out."

Jenny didn't answer. Amelia glanced back at her, noticing the way she bit her bottom lip before she wiped the nervous look from her face.

"Is everything alright, Jenny?" Amelia asked, pausing for a moment. "You seem troubled."

"I am simply worried that we are heading too deep into the forest," Jenny explained again.

Amelia considered this, unwilling to ignore Jenny's discomfort but also not ready to abandon their exploration just yet. She really wasn't sure why Jenny was getting worried—the castle's battlements, albeit a slighter silhouette now, were still in clear view above the gathering trees. "What say we continue a little further up until those foxgloves right ahead, and then we can head back."

Jenny said nothing again but Amelia could all but feel the heavy sigh building in her chest. She tucked aside the bite of guilt she felt, rationalizing her decision with how near the foxgloves indeed were. She didn't want to turn back just yet but she also didn't like the thought of making Jenny uncomfortable. Just a while longer, she silently promised herself.

"Your Grace, I think we should—"

"What's that over there?" Amelia asked, cutting into Jenny's fretted words. She hastened her pace, eyes fixed on a gray slab of stone that seemed quite out of place amidst the lush greenery. It was nestled in the heart of a small clearing, far too perfectly sculpted to be just an ordinary rock. Amelia noticed that the space around the stone was a little disturbed, hinting at frequent visits

Her curiosity devolved into dark realization when she saw the words inscribed on the slab of stone.

Here lies Jasper Terrell – beloved son, beloved brother.

"Did you know of this place?" Amelia asked, uneasy, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't take her eyes off the gravestone, feeling an odd sense of reverence in the quiet. She slowly approached, kneeling down beside it, unconcerned about dirtying her dress in the mud.

"I… I did," came Jenny's quiet confirmation.

Upon closer inspection, Amelia noticed the weathered state of the stone, perhaps a sign of its long-standing vigil in the woods. Despite the naturally aged look of it, it was clean of dirt or moss. There was no doubt in her mind that someone came by here often, to maintain the gravestone and its surroundings on a regular basis. Someone took care of whoever lied here.

But who was Jasper Terrell? They bore the same last name as Gideon so certainly they were related, but in what way? An uncle, his father? A brother?

Amelia was tempted to voice her questions aloud but she kept them within, not thinking it appropriate to burden her maid with them. She would simply save them for when she saw Gideon next. He wouldn't mind telling her, would he? Even though he had made no mention of it before…

Amelia rose from her crouching. She closed her eyes as a wave of unease washed over her. She didn't know why but she felt a sense of foreboding as well, as if her days were about to become a lot more complicated.