Page 12 of Maid for the Duke

‘I hope so. In true character, she wanted to talk about me and my future a lot. She was worried I would sink into melancholy after her death and I told her it was inevitable. When the brightest light in your life is snuffed out…’

Amelie nodded; grief could be long lasting and overwhelming.

‘She knew she could not stop my devastation at her death, but she was determined to make me think about my future.’

‘Surely you have everything mapped out? I confess I do not know any other dukes, but you already have the title and the responsibility. You have taken your seat in parliament. I would imagine the next thing on your list is to select a wife and have children to secure the future of the Ashmead dynasty.’

Lord Beescroft grimaced. ‘That was exactly what Catherine railed against.’

‘Did she not want you to marry?’

‘Oh, she certainly wanted me to marry, but she was worried I would approach it like everything else: “thinking only of duty”.’

‘Ah, she wished you to have love.’

‘I’m not even sure that was it. She wanted me to pause, to take a break from the relentless responsibilities, to stop and assess my life. She made me promise that one day, when I felt able, when the worst sting of grief had passed, I would do something just for me—something selfish, something that would not be designed just to further the interests of the family or serve my country.’

Amelie paused, looking up at him in wonder. ‘And you chose to come here to Cambridge, to research and write a book.’

‘I know it may seem an interesting choice, but some of my happiest times were when I was a student. I loved spending time in the library, reading books people had laboured over. For many years, my hobby has been sketching animals and plants as I see them out and about, researching a little about them and jotting down facts beside the pictures.’ He gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘I must sound like the most colossal bore.’

‘Having a passion isn’t boring. I admire it,’ Amelie said quietly. For a moment she wondered what her passion might have been if her life had taken the path she had once thought it was destined for. What she enjoyed most was cooking—creating delicacies from the raw ingredients. It was a love she’d shared with her mother and something that still bonded them together despite Amelie now being alone in the world.

‘Even a passion as dull as indigenous flora and fauna.’

‘I respect your determination to honour your promise to your sister, and the awareness to understand that, although this is not what anyone else might choose, it is what would make you happy.’

They walked in silence for a minute and Amelie gazed out over the river. The sun was glinting off its surface and she felt momentarily mesmerised by the beauty of it. A couple of weeks ago, she couldn’t have imagined how her life would be here in Grantchester. Of course, she missed the weekly visits to see her sisters and her brother, but other than that she felt a sense of contentment.

‘What happens after these four months?’ Amelie asked as Grantchester came into view in the distance.

Lord Beescroft sighed. ‘I return to my normal life, my duties, my seat in parliament…’ He paused, his expression darkening slightly. ‘And I get married.’

‘Just like that?’ Amelie said, a touch of teasing in her voice.

‘You may laugh, but you have to remember the marriage of a duke is more akin to a business arrangement than any courtship. There is a young woman, the daughter of a friend of my late father’s, who I have been informally tied to since adolescence.’

‘Is your marriage arranged already?’

‘Not quite. There is no binding contract; our fathers were not so cruel to give us no choice in the matter.’

‘So you could refuse this young woman if you wanted to?’

He considered for a moment before replying. ‘I could.’

‘But you won’t?’

He shrugged. ‘I have to marry a young woman from a suitable family—wealthy, well educated, ready to take on the roles and responsibilities of being a duchess… Lady Elizabeth Dreardon has been groomed for such a position since she was a child.’

‘I understand,’ Amelie said, thinking of her own engagement. She had not been in love with the young gentleman who was to have been her husband. Instead, he had offered her a way out of her father’s house, a sense of freedom. Much of the reason she had chosen him had rested on his vocal opinions on the sin of gambling—she had wanted someone who would not fritter her future home away, as her father had frittered her childhood home and mother’s fortune. It had been a poor choice, rushed because of her desperation to get away. Amelie had not taken the time to understand that moral outrage on one subject such as gambling did not mean a man was morally upstanding in every way. It had been a shock when he had refused to honour their betrothal, but now she could see it had been a lucky escape.

‘Do you know Lady Elizabeth well?’

‘Not really. Our paths have crossed at a few balls and soirees, but on the whole I think we try to avoid one another.’

Amelie raised an eyebrow.

The Duke laughed, surprising Amelie. She had been unsure if he had a sense of humour, but now she realised much of his abruptness came from a feeling of awkwardness. He often did not know what to say or how to respond, but out here in the countryside, distracted by a walk along the river, his true personality shone through.