Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"I have never been so humiliated in my life!" Amelia's voice ended in a sob as she turned toward Louisa, grabbing her best friend's arm tightly. "Oh, it was dreadful, Louisa!"

Miss Louisa Sedgewick looked at her friend, raising her eyebrows, but didn't ask what Amelia was talking about. She simply steered Amelia through the crowd, gently but firmly, out of the ballroom and through the French doors that were standing open, leading into the gardens, where lanterns flickered in the darkness, and courting couples promenaded, under the watchful eyes of their chaperones.

Amelia bit her lip, trying desperately not to burst into tears. The air was cooling upon her burning cheeks, lifting the curls that framed her face. She took a deep, shuddering breath. Dear Louisa always knew the right thing to do—already, she was feeling a little calmer.

They didn't stop on the balcony. Louisa steered her down the wide path, among the flowerbeds, filled with lavender and blooming rose bushes, spilling their beautiful perfume into the air, and tall trees, with branches overhanging. Even Amelia, in her distressed state, was awed by the beauty of it. The Duke and Duchess of Rochester took such pride in their gardens, and it showed.

"Here," said Louisa eventually, as they approached a vacant bench. "This is perfect. Do sit down, dearest."

Amelia did as she was told, sitting down on the wooden seat, gazing into the distance. It had always been like that between her and her best friend. Louisa was singularly unruffled, calm, and serene. Nothing seemed to bother her. She existed upon life's surface, paddling away, unconcerned if there was a maelstrom forming beneath her.

Not like me , thought Amelia ruefully . Papa and Mama always told me that I am far too emotional. I feel too deeply. But how do I change it?

Her hands balled into fists upon her lap. That question constantly tormented her. She was always deeply affected by things that happened in books, or if there was a strange mood between the servants, or anything, really. Mama had said that she was fey—a whimsical soul, stuck halfway between this world and the other. Could it be true?

"Now," said Louisa, settling beside her, spreading the skirt of her ballgown around her, before folding her hands in her lap. "Tell me what happened. What has upset you?"

Amelia sighed, picking at the quick of her thumb. A bad habit that Mama had scolded her for, as well. The silence lengthened before Amelia took another deep breath, turning to her friend.

"It was the Duke of Pembroke," she replied eventually, her voice catching. "He is back in the district. I do not know why."

Louisa raised an eyebrow. "The Duke of Pembroke? Why, yes, I do believe I saw him in the crowd! But it has been so long since he has been here that I thought perhaps I might be mistaken." She hesitated, looking at Amelia closely. "What did he do?"

Amelia took another deep breath. "He humiliated me," she replied, picking at her thumb again. "I have not seen him in an age and went over to him and Charles just to say hello." She hesitated, blinking back tears. "He was cold toward me… then Charles—embarrassingly—suggested that he ask me to dance… and he refused!"

Amelia couldn't manage to keep the note of outrage from her voice. She hadn't wanted to dance with him—it had been pushed by Charles and the invitation hadn't come from the duke at all—but still, she had never expected that he would simply refuse and walk away.

"How very odd," said Louisa, fanning herself. "What did he say exactly?"

Amelia took another deep breath. "He said that he had a previous engagement—a likely story—then bowed and walked away." Her face started to burn with humiliation again at the memory. "He does not like me, Louisa. He never has."

Louisa shifted on the seat. "That is humiliating," she agreed, shaking her head. "I can see why you are upset. For a gentleman to refuse an invitation to dance with a lady outright is almost unheard of." She paused, staring at Amelia. "You believe it stems from dislike?"

"I know it," Amelia replied, in a fervent voice. "He has always acted oddly toward me." She shook her head. "He has been one of Charles's closest friends since boyhood, and was constantly at Somersby Hall, but he has never warmed toward me." She frowned. "Sometimes, he would seek me out to talk with me, but most of the time he just ignored me, refusing to talk with me at all."

Louisa nodded. "Yes, I do recall him being there quite a bit now," she said. "He always ignored you?"

"Always," said Amelia, her heart tightening. "Except for a few occasions when he would seek me out, as I just said. That always confused me, and I was never able to speak or act in a normal manner around him." She paused. "I have never known where I stand with him. But now, after what just happened, I surely do. The gentleman despises me."

"And what if he does?" Louisa looked at her closely. "I am not offering an opinion either way as to the truth of your statement, as I would need to observe him with you, but what I want to know is why is it affecting you so much, dearest?"

"What do you mean?" Amelia bristled. "It is affecting me because I do not like to be humiliated. No one does, Louisa."

Louisa gave a heavy sigh. "If you did not care for his good opinion of you, and thought him utterly unworthy of your attention, then you would not have reacted the way that you have, Amelia." She hesitated. "Do you like him? Even just a little bit?"

Amelia's jaw dropped. She gaped at her friend. She tried to reply, but it seemed as if she had lost her voice entirely.

"If I may be so bold," continued Louisa, shifting on the seat again, "can I ask if perhaps there was a flirtation between the two of you? Or even a love affair?"

Amelia jolted, roused out of her shock over what her friend had just asked her. Vigorously, she shook her head.

"No, indeed," she declared, in a voice louder and more strident than she intended. "There has never been any such thing between us! How can you even suggest such a thing?"

Louisa shrugged. "You just seem very bothered by the way he is treating you. That is all. I thought perhaps there might be history between you, and you have never told me." She smiled slightly. "It does happen, Amelia. You may have been confused and never confided in me about it. I just want you to know that you can tell me now… if you feel safe to do so."

Amelia bit her lip, gazing in despair at her best friend, who was so calm and matter of fact about simply everything .

"Were you a sage in a past life?" she asked suddenly, gazing at her friend. "How did you come into the world so calm and wise, Louisa?"

Louisa burst out laughing. "That is not a very Christian thing to say, Amelia! A past life is an Oriental idea, is it not?" She looked at Amelia fondly. "Perhaps I was! But you are dodging the question. I shall not let you shirk it, you know."

"I know, I know," sighed Amelia, smiling ruefully. "But it is exactly as I have just told you. There was no love affair between us. No flirtation." She took a heaving breath. "I am telling you the honest truth, Louisa. He has always seemed utterly indifferent toward me… but now, after what just happened, I think perhaps he actually despises me."

"But do you like him?"

Amelia glared at her friend. She felt her color deepen. "I am indifferent to him," she said, raising her chin, trying to sound lofty. "I admit that the way he treated me just now offended me, but other than that, I do not care for his good opinion of me, one way or the other."

She kept staring at Louisa, trying not to drop her gaze. It was actually comforting staring into her friend's calm, sea green eyes. Her eyes flickered over her friend. Louisa looked so pretty tonight, in a lily-white silk gown, with tiny white flowers threaded within her hair.

She always felt rather like a clumsy giantess next to her best friend. Louisa was as petite and tiny as a fairy with curly brown hair, which she tried hard to tame. But even now, a few curls had escaped Louisa's bun, sticking out at odd angles. Amelia repressed the urge to lean over and dampen them down, feeling a wave of affection for her friend.

"I see," said Louisa, in a dry voice. "He is very handsome—even I noticed how handsome he is. So very tall and commanding." A slight smile curled her lips. "It is a shame he is so cold and indifferent toward you, is it not?"

Amelia shrugged. "I do not care either way," she lied. "Now that we have talked, and my blood has calmed a bit, it no longer concerns me." She stared at Louisa. "I am indifferent to him. As indifferent to him as he is to me."

Louisa's smile widened, but she didn't say a thing.

"Besides, I doubt whether I shall see much more of him before he returns to London," she continued. "I have no idea how long he will be in residence at Pembroke Abbey, but I am sure it will not be for very long. He has a life in London now."

Louisa nodded.