Chapter Fifteen

I sit fully dressed in a light blue gown, sipping tea as my gaze lingers over the smattering of purple marks across Amelie's chest and hips as she moves naked around the room doing her morning workout routine. I watch her incredible display of strength as she does one armed push ups on an incline from the bed. Her hair tumbles forward with the movement and I lick my lips as I eye the pale expanse of her neck. So far free of the purple marks that sprinkle the rest of her body.

I sit by the crackling fire forcing myself to keep my hands on my teacup because if I touch her, we won't make it to tea with Arthur's mother on time. I smile as I muse on this newly discovered part of me. I cannot believe the way her mere presence excites me. I sip my tea as I consider the way she fits so neatly into my world, my arms and most terrifying of all, my heart.

Breakfast with Arthur and William had been pleasant, both men far more relaxed than I had seen them since we first met. It would seem they dislike the parading and postulating necessary when company is nearby as much as I do.

I sip my tea and there is a knock at the door. Amelie and I lock eyes for a moment and we both know there is no way she is getting dressed in time to answer that door. I rise to my feet and move through the rooms. I can tell Amelie is lurking behind the door I have just left ajar as I make my way to the entryway of our rooms.

I pull the door open wide enough for Amelie to clearly see who is on the other side. Arthur stands there, surprisingly unaccompanied by William. Come to think of it, I am not sure if I have ever seen Arthur without the man who is seemingly attached to his hip.

"Hello Elizabeth," he says formally. "I am sorry to call on you without warning." He holds up a silk wrapped package. "But I wished to give you this."

I take the package and unravel it, inside is a red cloth book, the edges of the pages covered with gold. In fancy gold lettering the title reads, The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.

He shifts and clears his throat. "I have learned from the servants that you like to read. This is one of my favourites."

"You are giving me a book to read?" I confirm astounded.

He nods. "It is yours to keep. I have also commissioned a cabinet to be made for your rooms to place your books." He smiles. "Books go on a shelf Elizabeth, not in a bag under a bed."

My face reddens. "Is there anything the servants do not tell you?" I ask torn between embarrassed and amused.

"You have made quite an impact on them," Arthur admits. "They are quite eager to assist me in my attempts to woo you."

"I am not sure you are meant to admit to a wooing in progress," I say the corners of my lips quirking up despite myself.

Arthur lets out a full bellied laugh. "Subtilty is not a speciality of mine."

"I am beginning to see," I say with a smile. "But on you, this lack certainly comes across as a positive."

He beams at me. "It warms my heart to know that."

I nod. It is so easy to get along with Arthur. I think it will be easy to view him as a close friend, although I do not relish the idea of our wedding night, or the commitment to provide heirs that will follow.

Arthur's green eyes sparkle with merriment. "I must go, William is preparing the horses for our hunting trip."

"You go hunting?" I ask trying to hold back the shock.

"Well, hunting is a loose word," Arthur admits. "It is more an ambling through the woods than anything. Still, it is nice to be somewhere where my responsibilities cannot find me for a time."

I see the words for what they are. An admission that he does not enjoy his position of power and that he is choosing to share this vulnerability with me. I smile and clutch the book to my chest. "I hope your ambling in the woods goes well for you."

Arthur laughs and gives me a small bow. "You are the perfect bride for me."

Guilt twists in my gut as he leaves a kiss on the back of my hand and departs down the hall. I close the door to my rooms and lean against it heavily. Well, damn. Why can't he be a villain like all the other husbands I had encountered? It would make it easier to manage my feelings for Amelie with lower levels of guilt.

"He is a great man," Amelie says stepping into the entrance room wearing the gown she had given me.

"He is," I agree and take the few steps needed to take her into my arms. "He is not the one I want though."

She squeezes me back and I lean in for a gentle kiss. She hums delightedly and tugs me in closer before stepping away.

"I will get dressed," she says. "Arthur's mother is expecting you soon."

I close my eyes and rub my forehead. "Hopefully the entire tea is not related to my ability to bare children."

Amelie laughs as she steps into the bedroom. "I think your hope will lead to disappointment," her voice calls out from the other side of the door.

***

I sit across from Gwendolyn and sip my tea. Tea had been arranged at the estate, both Amelie and Arthur believing it best I do not travel. The woman with flaming red hair looks me over, and I try not to squirm under the intensity of her gaze. I am almost afraid if I look right at her, she will know of the ways I have betrayed her son with the woman standing quietly behind us.

"Elizabeth," she says gently. "How are your injuries healing?"

My hand reaches up to my neck. "They are well, I am told there will only be light scarring. I am fortunate that Arthur finds it endearing. A lesser man may have seen the scars as a deformity."

Gwendolyn's eyes narrow. "You only have those injuries because of your unwavering commitment to wed Arthur. Should he ever find them distasteful when he was the cause, indirect though it may be, you let me know. He may be a man, but I am his mother, and I will not have a child of mine behave in such a manner."

I smile. "I shall be sure to let you know. However, Arthur is kind and gentle, I cannot see it ever becoming a problem. You have raised a fine man."

She practically glows with the praise. "I find myself increasingly more pleased with his choice in you." I bow my head and focus intensely on the jam filled biscuit in my hand. "How are your parents?"

"They are well," I say diplomatically. "Mother does not write often, as is her way, and father is very busy."

Gwendlyn nods. "I understand he is of the gentry class?"

I freeze at the indication that I am also of the gentry class. "He is," I say diplomatically. "He has accumulated much land and lives handsomely off the rents he collects."

"So, he is not a merchant?" Gwendlyn asks.

"Heavens no," I say with a laugh I only just manage to keep the bitterness from. "Father would never allow himself to work like that."

Gwendolyn grips her teacup. "Arthur has mentioned this is the second such attack on you since your arrival. Is it because of your class difference?"

Swallowing I meet the woman's eyes, and I realise dishonesty would be damaging and easily noticed here. "The letters seem to indicate as such."

Gwendlyn sighs and rubs her face. "These elitist prats would have us all turn to inbreeding. It would be impossible for Arthur to marry within his class without it being a relative of some sort." I blink in shock at the statement, and she continues. "My great niece married her first cousin and the poor couple lost three children before one survived, and the poor thing is sickly."

I scrabble trying to find a way to participate appropriately in this conversation. Marrying within a family is normally perfectly acceptable and I struggle to find words. "Do you mean to say the relation has caused the woes with their childbearing?"

Gwendlyn nods seriously. "No one will hear my take on it. But I have not seen it in the lower classes. They have a broader marriage pool, and the loss of their children seems to be more related to financial status as opposed to defects at birth." The older woman shakes her head. "But no one wants to listen to the ramblings of an old woman."

"Our gender does make it hard to get others to take us seriously," I say cautiously "Even if our thoughts have an educated basis."

Gwendlyn beams at me. "I am liking you more by the second."

The conversation spirals into wedding plans, of which Gwendlyn makes many and I nod my compliance, not really caring much for the way the event occurs. Tea becomes lunch and afternoon tea and though I am tired when it concludes, I am pleased that everything has been arranged and that Arthur's mother has sent a servant out with the compiled list of instructions. I have made her quite happy by allowing her to take the reins with the wedding arrangements and it has removed a significant burden from my shoulders.

Amelie and I traipse back to our rooms and run into a red-faced foot man. He bows his head and relays the message that Arthur and William will not be back in time for dinner tonight. I nod and he scurries off.

Placing my hand on Amelie's in the deserted hallway I ask. "I know managing my safety is difficult, but do you think we could take a walk in the gardens?"

Amelie takes a long moment to think on it. "We can," she says slowly. "But we leave the moment I believe it necessary. No arguments."

"Done," I say with a smile and redirect her to the grand staircase.

As soon as we step into the fading sunlight I smile. I have missed this. Together we wander through the gardens and when we are far enough away from the manor, I slip my hand into hers as we drift through the colourful arrangements.

She leans down to sniff a rose so red it is almost purple, and I smile as she becomes engrossed in a ladybug crawling up its barbed stem.

"Do you think we will always be able to be like this?" I ask quietly and Amelie turns slowly to face me. "Or will you be assigned to protect someone else once my safety is assured by this marriage?"

The space in between us is suddenly heavy. "My father will do with me as he pleases," Amelie says quietly. "Until I am wed, I legally belong to him, and he can send me anywhere he wishes."

I sit down on the wooden bench nearby and watch a pair of birds chase each other around in the apple tree nearby. "I suppose it was foolish to think this would last."

"This ending will not be my choice," Amelie says gently as she sits beside me. "I would not choose to leave you."

I nod. "And yet you will," I say in a defeated voice. "My wedding is less than two weeks from now, I doubt my father would continue to pay yours for protection once titles had been granted."

We sit quietly and I berate myself for taking so long to act on my feelings for her. We could have had so much time if I hadn't been so confused.

Amelie slips her hand into mine. "I do not know what the future holds, but we still have now."

I nod and drop my head onto her shoulder, fighting back the tears I can feel prickling behind my eyes. There are times when life can be unbearably cruel.