Page 29 of Maid for the Duke

This was not a permanent solution—she could not rely on the charity of others indefinitely—but it did give her some much-needed peace of mind to allow her to work out what her next step would be, safe in the knowledge that Marie, Harriet and Charles would be well cared for and happy for the next few weeks.

She paused outside the carriage, looking back over her shoulder to where her sisters and brother were waving exuberantly from the front door. Will held out his hand and helped her up and she sank back into the plush seat of the carriage, feeling more content than she had done in a long time.

As Will settled himself across from her, she regarded him with a smile tugging at her lips. It was impossible not to smile at him. Despite her reservations, he had been right. By rescuing Marie, Harriet and Charles from Mrs Creedy she finally felt such a sense of relief that it was as if her brain had started to function properly again. For the first time in over a year she was not overwhelmed by guilt and worry and it was a wonderful feeling.

‘Thank you,’ she said once they had rounded the corner and Tranquillity House was out of sight. ‘Mrs Hampton is an angel sent from heaven.’

‘She is indeed. When I think of everything she has done for my family over the years…’ He trailed off and Amelie wondered if he was thinking about his sister. There was a sad, faraway look in his eyes that he often got when his thoughts drifted to Lady Catherine. ‘I owe her a great deal,’ he finished eventually.

‘I think she understands your appreciation. Tranquillity House is a beautiful house and she seems very content with her life there.’

‘I like to think so. It is the least I could do.’

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes and Amelie could tell there was something bothering Will. Deep down she knew what it was. She had caught his surprised expression when Charles had mentioned their father two nights ago. Amelie swallowed. She hadn’t exactly deceived Will about her father, but she hadn’t corrected his assumption that the old man was dead.

‘Amelie…’ he said eventually, drawing out her name. He opened his mouth to say more but Amelie could not bear the hint of betrayal in his eyes.

‘I didn’t know how to tell you,’ she said. ‘I haven’t told anyone about my father since we came to London. Even just thinking about it makes me feel such deep shame.’ Her words came quickly, falling out of her mouth in a jumble. Now she had started, it was as if she could not stop.

‘You have no duty to confide in me. It is your life, your family.’

Amelie reached out and touched Will on the knee, needing the connection.

‘But I have to admit I was rather surprised to find out your father was alive.’

Amelie swallowed, her cheeks hot with shame as she thought about her darkest secret.

‘I want to tell you,’ she said so quietly it was barely more than a whisper, ‘But I worry it will make you think differently of me.’

‘Your father’s actions do not reflect upon you. I can see how you have risen from the destruction he left behind to do everything you can to give your young kin a chance. Has he abandoned you?’

Amelie shook her head. It would be better if that were the truth.

‘Perhaps it is better if I show you. I do not know if I can get the words out, but I think it is best you know the whole truth. Do we have an hour to spare before we set off to Cambridge?’

He inclined his head and banged on the roof of the carriage. When it had stopped, Amelie gave the driver an address, noting his raised eyebrows and feeling the judgment already.

They travelled in silence, the carriage weaving its way back into the centre of London. Amelie felt her heart sinking with every minute they drew closer. She shrank back in her seat, wondering if she was doing the right thing, but it seemed unfair to keep the truth from Will after he had been so generous and caring. She didn’t want him to think that she had taken advantage of him, or that her father was set up comfortably in a townhouse somewhere and that he could have taken in her little family.

Multiple times throughout the journey she thought about calling out to the driver, asking him to stop. She could just tell Will the story of her father’s downfall without dragging him to the most depressing place on earth. Yet despite her reservations she kept silent, all the time wondering if this was some terrible, last-ditch attempt to push him away.

After everything he had done for her these past couple of days, after the kindness he had shown her family and her, Amelie could not deny she was falling for him. Despite being fully aware that any liaison between them could not be anything respectable, despite thinking these last two years she would do anything to avoid heaping further shame on her family, now if he beckoned her into his arms she would go willingly.

Perhaps seeing the depths her family had sunk to might mean he would decide to keep his distance.

‘Ah,’ Will said as they drew to a stop outside a great set of iron gates. ‘I think I understand.’

With mounting trepidation Amelie stepped down from the carriage, grateful when Will offered her his arm. It felt good to be able to lean on him, especially as her feet felt increasingly heavy as they approached the gates, as if her boots were filled with iron.

‘Amelie, what a pleasant surprise.’ The guard standing at the entrance of the prison leered at her. He was always on duty, always standing at the gate with the heavy keys in his hand. He was the first obstacle she faced to be able to see her father, and the way his eyes roamed over her body never failed to disgust her.

‘Good morning, Mr Peet, I trust you have been keeping well?’ Amelie said, watching him warily.

‘Better for seeing you,’ he said, giving her a lecherous wink.

‘I would like to see my father today; would you let us inside?’ She fished inside her purse and pressed a coin into the guard’s hands. Everything in the prison worked on a system of bribes. To get all the way in through the gates, the inner courtyard and up to her father’s room she had to bribe three people. Mr Peet was the first. His job was to admit any visitors to the gaol and to ensure only those prisoners with permission to seek work outside were allowed to leave for the day. Even though his only role was opening and closing the gate, he didn’t do so without a coin being pressed into his hand.

Reluctantly Mr Peet let them through, calling out to the open door of the guardhouse to let the warden know someone was coming in.