Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

" O h no, you don't have to do that. I can manage just fine."

The pretty maid frowned as if she could not understand a word Amelia was saying. "Pardon me, Your Grace?"

Amelia still wasn't used to the title. She gave the maid a small smile. "I understand that you wish to help me undress, but I am quite capable of doing so myself."

"But… Your Grace, it is my sole duty to help you. I am your lady's maid."

"Then perhaps if I need your assistance with something else, I shall call for you." Amelia noticed the genuine concern written across the maid's face and quickly added, "It is not you. I… am simply not used to having a personal maid, that is all."

The maid gracefully curtsied, a blond lock of hair peeking from her bonnet. "Then it is my honor to be your first."

Amelia laughed awkwardly. Her new bedchamber was so vast that, just by standing on the other side of the room, it felt like there was a world of distance between the two of them. "Might I know your name?" she asked.

"It is Jenny, Your Grace," the maid replied.

"Well, Jenny, your thoughtfulness is noted. But I am truly fine with undressing on my own. I shall summon you if I require anything else."

Jenny nodded, though her brows still held a touch of concern. "Understood, Your Grace. I shall come running when you call."

Amelia laughed a little at the eagerness in Jenny's voice and nodded as the maid turned to leave. Once the door clicked shut, Amelia released a long breath, the weight of the day slipping from her shoulders. She skimmed her gaze about the expansive bedchamber, overwhelmed by the sheer opulence of this room alone. She couldn't believe she was truly here, in Castle Stanhope, as the new Duchess of Stanhope. And while the reality had been slowly settling in over the past few days, it was only now that the enormity of it truly dawned on her.

With another sigh, she began the arduous task of unlacing her elaborate gown. Within minutes, she had it pooled around her feet, before draping it carefully over the bed. Drawn to a writing desk nestled in one corner, Amelia settled into its chair. She fished out a fresh sheet of paper, excited that she was at least able to write letters from the comfort of her chambers. At her uncle's home, she oftentimes had to hide from Barbara and Nadine in the library and send her letters in secret.

Amelia intended to pen a letter to Dorothy, since her sister was yet to respond to the last letter Amelia had sent. She wanted to tell her everything that had happened over the past week, and where she could address her letters now. She had contemplated telling her sister that she'd uncovered the identity of the Masked Rogue too, but ultimately decided it would be best to keep it hidden until after the annulment, lest her sister worry needlessly for her. But just as she was about to dip her quill into ink, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Jenny, I've managed to undress on my own," Amelia called loudly, believing it was her maid. "I do not need any help, I assure you."

"That's a shame," a deep voice resounded.

Amelia gasped, leaping to her feet. Unbeknownst to her, the door had silently opened to reveal none other than Gideon. She pressed her back against the desk, swallowing harshly at the way he raked his heated gaze down the length of her.

Suddenly, she became painfully conscious of the fact that she was in nothing but her chemise, which left little to the imagination. A blush crept across her cheeks, yet she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself, praying he wouldn't notice just how sheer the fabric was in the firelight.

"What are you doing!" she exclaimed, voice breathy and indignant. "You shouldn't be in here."

Gideon's grin was as pure as sin. "It is my castle," he drawled. "I can be wherever I please."

He wandered over to her in slow steps, each one matching the thunderous beat of her heart. Amelia was tempted to back away from him again but she refused to keep running. Instead, she tilted her chin defiantly, challenging him with her gaze.

"Is there a reason you have interrupted me, Your Grace?" she asked, grateful that her voice was steady.

The corner of Gideon's mouth quirked upwards, the glint in his eyes revealing a mischief she'd grown all too familiar with. "Oh? Am I ‘ Your Grace' again? I quite liked the sound of my given name on your lips, dear."

She took a breath, maintaining her composure. "And you should stop calling me ‘ dear' ," she countered. "You and I both know you feel nothing like that for me."

"You wound me. Surely you are not saying my affections for you are mere theatrics?"

"That is precisely what I am saying. Though why you insist on continuing your act, I do not know. Nor do I care. I have gotten what I wanted, after all."

"And that is to be a Duchess."

She didn't respond. She was quite fine with him thinking that the only thing she wanted from him was to be a Duchess.

"I must say though," Gideon continued, drawing nearer still. "It does hurt me to think that you doubt the authenticity of my heart. Can't you feel the burning desire I hold for you?"

"Your Grace…"

"My heart only beats for you, Amelia." He caught her wrist and placed her palm against his chest. To his credit, his heart seemed to be thundering as fast as hers. "Can't you feel it?"

Amelia curled her hand into a fist, pulling it out of his grasp. Now that he was so close, she couldn't hold out against the urge to cover herself. "Is there a reason you came here?" she questioned as she wrapped her arms across her chest.

Gideon smirked. Before she could react, he caught both wrists this time, drawing her flush against him. She collided into the firm wall of his chest and froze. His fingers danced teasingly down her waist, and another hand gently lifted her chin, compelling her to meet his eyes.

The restraint she'd maintained seemed to evaporate, replaced by an undeniable yearning as she found herself being drawn to the promise of his lips. In the charged silence, she could feel him examining her reactions, the rise and fall of her chest, the parting of her lips, the unmistakable flame in her eyes.

"Why do you shy away?" he whispered to her. "You are beautiful."

Amelia couldn't find her voice. Whatever strength she'd had just then fizzled away. It took all her sanity not to lean into him, slow heat curling within her core.

"Doesn't this remind you of when we first met?" His voice was a seductive melody. "I still think about it. How you felt in my arms, the intoxicating scent, the hushed whispers. Do those moments plague your thoughts as they do mine?"

His hand daringly traced down to the curve of her rear and Amelia shuddered. The truth rushed to her lips. "I do. All the time."

His fingers slipped from her chin to snake around the side of her throat, resting at the nape of her neck. The tantalizing nearness of his lips promised a searing kiss. And Amelia found herself waiting, breathlessly.

She couldn't remember any of the apprehension or distrust she felt before. Now, there was nothing but longing, constantly lying at the base of every interaction with him. Touching her like this, her bosom pressed against his firm chest, made it hard for her to think clearly. All she wanted was to taste his lips again, desperate to satiate the need that mounted in her with every passing second. It didn't matter that he was the Rogue that ruined her life. Not right at this moment, at least.

With a breathy sigh, Amelia tipped her head back for their lips to meet. Gideon's hand drifted from her neck, down her arms, catching her wrist. Then, he stepped back and pressed something into the palm of her hand.

Amelia's eyes fluttered open, a little bemused. He wore a knowing smile. "I came to deliver this to you," he told her. Then he winked, spun, and sauntered away.

A heavy mixture of desire and mortification swelled within Amelia. She stared after him in utter disbelief. And once he was gone, shame washed over her.

Amelia released a breath, glancing down at the letter in her hand. The sight of the seal made her forget some of her overwhelming embarrassment for a moment. It was from Dorothy.

With slightly trembling hands, she broke the seal and quickly skimmed the letter, feeling sudden relief.

My Sweet Amelia,

I sit here and find myself writing to you once more, unable to wait for your reply to my last letter! I hope you'll forgive my impatience.

Life has been a whirlwind, and I long to hear your plans. Will Brighton still have the pleasure of your company next month? The thought of your eventual visit is all that brings light to my days.

Please, take all the time you need to respond, sister. I do not wish to be a burden to you. Do not forget, your happiness is my greatest concern!

With all my love,

Dorothy

Dorothy was fine. She had no reason to worry right now. Still a little dazed, Amelia reclaimed her chair by the writing desk and picked up the quill pen to write.

Yet as she dipped it into the inkwell, she found her thoughts veering back to that moment with Gideon. The memory of their almost-kiss and her own vulnerability made her cheeks burn, and the pen wobbled, spilling ink across the parchment.

It didn't take her long to realize that she would not be able to concentrate on anything else but how she'd made herself look a desperate fool in front of Gideon.