“I think you should,” his mother urged. “He could attack anybody else!”
“And the constables shall ask about his appearance, and I cannot tell them anything, for I did not linger long enough on his face. I was too busy trying to avoid his knife.”
“In a not very successful way,” Daphne piped up, but her brows were still pulled in concern. Graham glared at her but it softened when he looked at Amelia. He had not stopped thinking about her care with him in the carriage, the way she had held her handkerchief to his head, and the way she had listened without judging or speaking over him.
It made him ache to tell her the full truth of his past but he was not quite ready yet.
“Your reflexes were rather fast,” Amelia praised. “The attacker came out of nowhere!” The last part was directed at Daphne, who gasped.
“He did,” Graham muttered. “It was likely a man down on his luck and attempting to get something to pawn for coin. As much as he should not have resorted to violence, I do not wish to have a man arrested for simply trying to survive.”
Amelia gazed back at him, as if his words were softer than what she imagined him to say. Eventually, Graham sat down, sighing.
“It could be a man purposefully targeting you,” Daphne suggested, unhelpfully. “Oh! He could be hired by another lord who, in fact, had their eye on Amelia and wished to take revenge but could not get their own hands dirty.”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement but Felicity tutted at her. “Daphne. Be proper, please.”
“I am!”
“No, you have been reading too many novels,” Graham told her, rolling his eyes as he poured himself a cup of tea.
“Well, I needed to turn to something, did I not? My older brother shuthimself away for many years and only decided to come out when our mother berated him. And then he stayed out for a certain new friend of mine.”
Graham glared at her, finally making his reproach enough to silence his sister.
“Has the scandal sheet arrived?” he asked. “I am sure it has much to say about our appearance last night.”
His eyes flicked to Amelia, who sat upright in her seat. More and more each day he noticed how much more confident she looked at his dining table. She lifted her chin higher, meeting his eyes. He offered her a small smile, and after a moment of surprise, she smiled back.
“Graham, do eat!” Daphne urged. “Amelia’s cook has sent over her own recipe for French toast and it is most divine. I have been trying to talk Mama into hiring the Hawthorne’s cook.”
“We cannot steal my wife’s former cook,” Graham muttered. He reached for the gossip column, unfolding it. When he saw the lengths of dark ink, his stomach clenched. It had been a long time since the mysterious gossiper had written little of the ton’s activity.
“What does it say?” His mother asked, having taken her seat. Daphne was heaping more French toast upon her plate. In a way, she reminded him of Clara, Amelia’s younger sister whom he had not spent much time with. A thought crossed his mind to have the Hawthornes visit soon, aside from the ball. Something smaller, more intimate. Perhaps he could set up an afternoon tea for Amelia as a surprise, have her family already situated, and the whole thing kept from her knowledge.
“Is it bad?” Amelia’s shaken voice startled him. It was the voice of a lady who had been on the receiving end of gossip too many times.
Graham cleared his throat and began to read. “‘In the influential Bracken Square, Lord and Lady Fairfax hosted a delightful soiree that looked like the inside of a sweet stand at the Statty Fair. Not only was it the perfect place for hopeful debutantes to catch the eye of an earl or baron, perhaps even a marquess, but it was also the first glimpse the ton got at no other than the new Duchess of Blackthorn.
‘From a quiet girl lingering on the fringes of ballrooms to waltzing around the floor, hand-in-hand, with her husband, the Duke of Blackthorn, Her Grace seemed to stun many with her transformation. I, for one, was not entirely convinced by the admittedly beautiful facade. There are many like myself that believe the Duchess is now more fitting of the personality that she hides. The exterior looks as poised as her interior motives. One questions how the Hawthornes feel.
‘We all know that this wallflower ensnared the Beastly Duke in hervines, securing him into marriage, so is that why she quipped to many ladies, suddenly finding her confident voice? Where was that bravery when she was watching the dance floors with no partner? Was her shy routine all practiced, and she has now revealed the confident ton lady within? Or has the Beastly Duke influenced a once-pure lady?’”
The gossip sheet had once again questioned Amelia’s motives, and the points that it made… it made him sick to realize how it all looked. His voice was hard as he finished with the final question the writer posed, and he worked his jaw tightly, not able to look at her.
She had worried over and over about such a thing, and now, with those questions before him, he could not deny that they appeared to be truthful. HowhadAmelia gone from the silent girl in the balls, something she admitted to, to the woman who had been bold enough to dab his forehead and speak up for herself?
And then Lady Cassandra…
He still could not shake off those questions, considering it once again. How many more times would he do so?
Was there truth behind the gossip?
Amelia had been desperate, into her third Season, knowing she was not noticed enough to be courted by one of the more admirable suitors.
The collision at my aunt’s ball, he thought.Could she have orchestrated that, too?
“Graham?” Felicity’s voice was soft as she coaxed his attention back up to them, pulling him from his thoughts. Her hand was rested on Amelia’s, as if she was already protesting who she stood by. Even Daphne had fallen quiet, waiting for his reaction.
