Page 20 of Maid for the Duke

‘You exaggerate. It is a slum, nothing more, occupied by people who have hardly anything in this world and are forced to live in terrible conditions.’

‘People who have nothing to lose commit crimes they might not otherwise contemplate. You cannot walk that way.’

Amelie gestured to her plain grey dress. She was hardly a good target for thieves. ‘I have nothing worth stealing.’

‘Except the money you take to Mrs Creedy each week.’

She felt a pang of nausea at the thought of the fees for her brother and sisters’ lodgings being taken from her. Mrs Creedy had made it clear she was not a charity. If the money owed was not paid promptly, then she would have no qualms about sending Marie, Harriet and Charles onto the streets.

‘I hide that inside my clothes.’

Lord Beescroft groaned. ‘Giving them all the more reason to search you, to touch you.’

‘I have four hours free on a Sunday afternoon. If I were to walk all the way around the periphery of St Giles on the way there and back, I would spend so little time actually with my sisters and my brother that it would hardly be worth it.’

‘But you would be alive.’

She sighed in frustration. It was the sort of comment she might have made when she’d been living her comfortable, safe life in Kent. She wasn’t angry—how could she be? Lord Beescroft was only thinking of her safety—but he did not understand. Her life was hardly her own any more. She did not resent the work that kept her busy from early in the morning until late at night, but she did feel the lack of freedom. The only time she was free to do anything she pleased was for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon. It meant errands were often neglected and, because she spent all her time running backwards and forwards across London to see her family, she had no time whatsoever to herself.

‘For me the risk is worth it,’ she said, holding the Duke’s eye.

‘From now on you will use my carriage for the visits.’

Amelie snorted and shook her head. ‘That is not a viable solution. You cannot give a housemaid access to your carriage, horses and driver. Your whole household would explode into gossip and everyone would think something inappropriate was going on.’

‘I will not have you murdered as you walk through St Giles.’ There was anguish in his eyes and Amelie paused, trying to work out what it meant. It was hardly believable, but they had become closer these last few weeks. The walks along the river, the evenings spent in one another’s company, had all led to a companionship that Amelie realised she would be sad to lose.

She softened slightly. ‘You cannot lend me your carriage, but I will take care with where I am walking.’

‘If someone attacked you…’ He left the sentence hanging, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head.

‘I promise to be careful.’ She sighed. ‘But my life is not the sheltered idyll that it once was. This is the world I live in now and I have to adapt. I do not know what my future holds, but before I secured the position in your household there was the very real possibility that we might all end up on the streets somewhere like St Giles, slowly starving as we looked for work.’

Lord Beescroft reached across the carriage and took her hand, and Amelie felt a wonderful rush of anticipation that she quickly tried to push away.

‘I do not want that for you,’ he said.

‘I do not want that either. That is why it is important my reputation is unblemished and there is no hint of scandal which would force Mrs Potter, as the one in charge of the day to day running of your household, to recommend you dismiss me.’

For a long moment he looked at her with eyes filled with a mix of frustration and desire, and then he let her hand slip from his and sat back on his seat.

‘Very well,’ he said with a wry smile, ‘I will not insist you use my carriage for your visits. I admit it would be difficult to explain away.’

Amelie nodded, feeling her heart lift as she recognised the narrow streets they were driving through. They were drawing close and that meant soon she would be able to gather Marie, Harriet and Charles in her arms and tell them how much had missed them. She worried that her long absence had been difficult for them, but her increased wages meant she would hopefully be able to pay the fees needed to send Marie and Harriet to school soon. Marie, the eldest of her sisters, could read and write, but Harriet was not confident with her letters and Amelie hated the idea that she would not be able to master this basic skill because there was no one to teach her and no money for school.

‘Which one is it?’ Lord Beescroft asked as they drew to a stop outside a row of terraced houses. The homes were all squashed together with tiny frontages opening directly onto the road.

‘The third from the end. Mrs Creedy has the upstairs rooms.’

The Duke raised his eyebrows. The houses were small enough as it was; no doubt he was wondering how a widow managed to fit three children comfortably into the space available.

‘I will wait here for you.’

‘I can walk back to Grosvenor Square afterwards, if you wish to return home,’ Amelie said.

‘When we have just argued about your safety in the daytime? No, I shall wait here.’

Amelie nodded. She had hoped to slip away for an errand after seeing her sisters and brother, but there would be no chance of that with Lord Beescroft waiting outside. Without another word, Amelie alighted from the carriage and hurried along the street, pausing at the door to Mrs Creedy’s house. She knocked, waiting for a moment before it was answered and she was directed up the stairs.