“Ma’am, you can tell me what troubles you.”
Mrs Armstrong’s lips formed a grim line. “If you insist.”
“I do,” Christopher countered. Surely, Mrs Armstrong was here to complain about Amelia’s behaviour.
“It’s about Miss Amelia,” she started. “I was searching for a maid last night when I saw Miss Amelia barefoot eavesdropping at your conversation with Prince Cowasj in your drawing room.”
Not what Christopher expected. It was with an effort that he managed to keep his face straight.
Benedict’s brows hit his hairline, but he didn’t say anything.
“As her chaperone, my duty is to be sure Miss Amelia behaves properly at all times, so I dragged her away from the door and shut her into her room.” Mrs Armstrong lifted her chin.
“I see.” Christopher worked his jaw.
He couldn’t fathom the reason Amelia had been eavesdropping on him aside from her keen interest in Cowasj. Perhaps she considered the handsome prince a better catch than a grumpy, war veteran lord.
Her laugh drifted from across the garden. He turned towards the sound, and his heart gave a squeeze. She was laughing, her sapphire eyes gleaming in the sunlight. If he had doubts about her interest in him, he didn’t have any now. She was after the prince.
Mrs Armstrong coughed again. “If I may?”
“Yes.” He didn’t care to mask his rude tone this time.
Anger . . . No, disappointment and hurt coiled around him. He hadn’t realised how much hope Amelia’s presence had given him until that same hope had been snatched away. Hope to have found someone who wasn’t scared of his loneliness and grumpy manners.
Mrs Armstrong didn’t flinch. “I’d like to have a latch that I’ll use to lock Miss Amelia in her room at night, or alternatively to sleep in her room to keep an eye on her.”
A flare of anger surged so suddenly his head spun. He wasn’t happy about Amelia’s conduct, but he wasn’t going to let anyone cage her, not in his house. She was his guest and would be free to do as she pleased as long as she stayed here.
“No.” The single word rang out harsh and dry. “Miss Amelia is an adult woman who doesn’t need anyone supervision. She’s a guest of my house, and I don’t lock up guests.”
Shock flashed in Mrs Armstrong’s face. “But sir, I wouldn’t do my job if I didn’t take precautions. Who knows what she’s up to, or what she can do next?”
“May I say something?” Benedict held up a hand.
Christopher gave him a nod. A knot of hurt tightened his throat because once again, his instinct to not trust anyone was right.
“Ma’am, your concern is understandable, and I’m sure Christopher is grateful that you have shared this piece of information with him. However, I believe the best strategy is to let things unfold and see what happens.”
This time Mrs Armstrong flinched. “And do nothing?”
“If we let you lock Miss Amelia in her room, we’ll never know what she’s up to,” Benedict said with simplicity. “What do you think, Chris?”
He couldn’t voice what he thought because it’d be a wild shout of anger. “As I said, I’m not going to lock anyone in my house.” With a swift bow, he strode inside, ignoring the gasp of horror of Mrs Armstrong.
~ * ~
THE WARM SUNLIGHT suffused the garden in a glittering glow, and Pearl couldn’t stop staring. The more the gardeners cleaned paths and trimmed bushes, the more the lush roses and wisterias emerged in all their glory. It’d be a lovely sight, but for the worry gnawing at her heart. While she was strolling in the sun, Mrs Armstrong had chatted with Christopher, and judging by the way he’d stormed out, the conversation hadn’t been about what type of puddings should be served for dinner. Her money would go to Mrs Armstrong informing Christopher of having caught Pearl-Amelia in the corridor last night, which must’ve made Christopher furious. Mayhap, he might throw her out. Her heart curled into a ball. Disappointing him left a bitter taste in her mouth, and even her stomach gave a painful lurch.
“Are you all right?” Julia asked.
Pearl focused on a bush of Queen Anne roses. “Mrs Armstrong is keeping a close watch on me.”
“She’s breathing on my neck all the time. I couldn’t find a moment to talk to Benedict alone.”
“Oh.” Pearl grinned. “You fancy him.”
A flush coloured Julia’s cheeks. “Can you blame me? He’s handsome, funny, and charming.”
