Page 34 of Maid for the Duke

It had been a long time since he’d had anyone to care about. Ever since Catherine’s death he had been alone. Of course, he spoke to people—old friends at his club in Mayfair, the other men who made up the dedicated group in the House of Lords, and more recently the professors and fellows at Peterhouse, but these connections were all superficial. He had not allowed anyone close since losing Catherine, yet somehow Amelie had managed to sneak through his defences.

He sighed. He should feel regret. He had promised himself he would not compromise Amelie, that the kiss they had shared a week earlier would be the only mistake he made, yet he had been powerless to resist her. Even now, with his sense returning, he could not bring himself to regret their intimacy.

‘Let me help,’ he said as she struggled to lift her dress back over her head without her arms getting caught up. It really was an ugly dress, even for a servant. They were expected to wear muted colours, but there were practical, plain dresses and then there was this monstrosity.

After Amelie was dressed and she had re-pinned her hair into a neat bun at the nape of her neck, she gave him an assessing look.

‘I did not plan that to happen,’ she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully before uttering them.

‘Nor I.’

Her eyes searched his face and he could tell she was asking herself the same question that was vying for attention in his own mind: what came next?

They had three more months of one another’s company in close quarters, and then Amelie would still be in his service even when they returned to London. It would be torture, pretending nothing had happened between them—passing her in the hallway and ignoring her even when his mind and body called out for the intimacy they had shared.

‘I do not regret it,’ she said softly. ‘I know it sounds ridiculous, but I had this feeling that it was inevitable. That we were hurtling towards this moment, powerless to stop it.’

‘I didn’t want to stop it.’ That was the truth. He could talk about noble intentions all he liked, but when Amelie had looked at him with heat in her eyes he had not cared enough about her reputation or his position of power. All he had wanted was her.

‘Me neither.’ She swallowed hard, her eyes meeting his. ‘What do we do now?’

‘That rather depends on you.’

She looked at him, puzzled. ‘I thought it rather depended on you.’

He sighed. They were both tip-toeing around their feelings, neither wanting to be the one to come out and say how they really felt, but that way lay disaster and dissatisfaction.

‘I cannot marry you, Amelie,’ he said, as gently as possible. He thought of his duty, his responsibilities.

‘I know. I never expected it.’

‘But my desire for you has not abated. Nor has my affection.’ It was more honest than he thought he could be. Will had never been adept at expressing his feelings, preferring to keep things inside where they could not cause him harm, but he recognised the difficult position Amelie was in and felt she deserved to know exactly how he felt. ‘If there were no consequences to our actions, no lasting damage caused, then I would suggest we enjoy our summer together. I can think of nothing more pleasurable than sharing my life in Grantchester with you.’

‘What are you suggesting?’ Her tone was measured, calm, and Will realised this was one of the things he admired about her. Amelie had lived through so much these last couple of years, yet she was still so reasonable.

‘Be my mistress for these few months. Share my bed. We can take walks along the river, enjoy one another’s company.’

‘And at the end of the three months, when we return to London?’

He exhaled. That part was unclear in his mind. All he could think of was not losing her yet. He wanted that closeness, and their secluded life in Grantchester meant it could be within their reach for three months at least.

‘I will bend to whatever solution you think best. I will have to start finalising the arrangements for my marriage,’ he said, needing to make it clear that, although he cared for her, there could be no future for them past the next three months. He did not want her to agree to a liaison because she thought it would lead to something more permanent. If she decided it would be too difficult to continue their affair whilst they were in Grantchester, he would step back and do his best to suppress his desires. What he didn’t want to do was deceive her into a relationship that could not last past the summer.

‘You would not want me in your household when you married.’

Even though he had not known her four weeks, the idea of a life without Amelie was painful to think about, but she was probably right. He would marry because it was his duty, but he did not plan to disrespect his wife by keeping a mistress under their roof.

‘I could help you secure a position in a good household—perhaps as a housekeeper or cook. Something that would allow you to earn enough to support your family.’

Amelie nodded. It would be a decent solution, even if it felt painfully practical to think about the end of their affair before it had even begun. Will liked to be in control, to have all the possible loose threads tied up and accounted for.

‘So you suggest we enjoy an illicit affair whilst we are in Grantchester and then at the end of the three months we go our separate ways?’

He nodded, wondering if it sounded too emotionless, too much like a business transaction. He wanted Amelie back in his arms, but he did not want to get her there with deception. No doubt if he whispered poisoned promises he did not intend to keep she would come to him without hesitation, but he did not want to win her with lies. If she agreed to his proposition, he needed to know she would go in with her eyes open.

‘I acknowledge that it is a lot easier for me to move on to the next stage of my life—that is a product of my privilege—but I think we can be completely discreet with this, Amelie. We live a secluded life in Grantchester; no one needs to know anything has happened between us. Then when we return to London you will move on to a position that is more suited to your skills as a housekeeper or cook. No one would be surprised.’

‘What if I fall pregnant?’