Page 39 of Maid for the Duke

‘I feel many of the gentlemen held in the debtor’s prison need to listen to your philosophy.’

‘My father included.’ She shook her head to get rid of the image of her father. She did not want to think about him now. ‘Even that dream is impossible, though. I cannot save enough to even rent a cottage with the work I am doing.’

‘You have your wages from these few months,’ Will said. ‘I will not hear of you paying for Mrs Hampton.’

‘I doubt I could afford Mrs Hampton,’ Amelie said, chewing her lip. ‘I keep wondering if I could make enough teaching piano to make ends meet. I’m good, although I have not played for well over a year. It just feels a little uncertain. At least with a regular job you know how much you will receive at the end of each week. If I tried to set myself up as a piano teacher, the work isn’t guaranteed, and therefore nor is the money. I do not think I can have that uncertainty, not with the children involved. If it were only me it would be different—I could cope with a few lean weeks every so often—but I could not bear it if I could not provide for Marie and Harriet and Charles.’ She sighed. ‘But whilst I am in service I have no hope of a normal life. It is all-consuming.’

A shadow passed over Will’s face. ‘Are you thinking of your prospects—marriage, a family…?’

Amelie considered this carefully before answering. A few weeks ago she would have denied the idea vehemently. The betrayal by her fiancé had cut her deeply, even though the match had been a practical one rather than involving any true feelings. She had doubted if she would ever trust anyone again, but these few weeks with Will had thawed her heart and shown her what she could be missing.

It hurt to think it would not be Will she shared her life with, but in time she would recover from the heartbreak she knew was coming. In a year or perhaps two she might feel ready to look for someone who would accept her circumstances and still want to be with her. She did not want to be lonely, to fight her battles on her own. She wanted love, affection and support.

‘One day,’ she said with a little shrug. ‘I honestly thought I would never trust anyone again, but I suppose time does heal us. I do not wish to go through life unhappy and alone.’

Will did not say anything but his frown deepened.

Amelie gave a little smile, lost in her own thoughts now. ‘And one day I would like children of my own. Perhaps not for a few years; it would be reckless to bring any more children into this world whilst I struggle to care for my brother and sisters, but at some point in the future.’

She glanced up, surprised by Will’s silence.

‘I know it is hypocritical, but I hate the thought of you with someone else,’ he said eventually.

‘You will be long married by then, with two or three or four children. And I will be nothing more than a distant memory.’

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘I may have to do my duty and ensure my bloodline is continued, but I will never forget you, never let your memory fade.’

Amelie smiled indulgently, reaching out and pulling him towards her. The boat rocked precariously as he moved up to lie beside her, pulling her gently onto his chest, his arms encircling her.

‘It would be unnecessarily cruel to think too much on the happiness we have shared this summer when it is over.’ She nuzzled into his neck, inhaling his scent, wishing she could make this moment last for ever. ‘We both must move forward with our lives, refuse to look back. That way, ruin and desperation lie.’

He kissed her hair, holding her tighter.

‘We cannot be sad; it would be a terrible waste of the time we do have.’

‘You are right as always,’ he said, speaking into the top of her head. ‘We must make the most of every single moment we have together.’

Chapter Nineteen

Will burst through the front door of the cottage, package carried carefully in his arms, calling out to Amelie.

‘Is something amiss?’ Amelie said, emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. From the delicious scent that wafted from the back of the cottage, he thought she must be baking a cake. Since arriving in Grantchester he had eaten better than he ever had before in his life. So much so he’d had to start watching his portion size. Amelie’s food was so delicious it was easy to over-indulge, and he prided himself on his lean, muscular physique.

‘Here,’ he said, thrusting the package into her arms.

‘What is it?’

‘Open it.’ He was buzzing with anticipation and quickly guided her into the parlour so she could set the package on the dining table to open. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, the layers of protective wrapping inside rustling even with the tiniest movements.

Amelie untied the bow at the top of the package and began to work her way inside. When she got to the final layer, she let out a gasp of surprise, her eyes widening.

‘Will, this cannot be for me.’

‘It is.’

‘Where would I wear it?’ Carefully, almost reverentially, she held up the beautiful ball gown, allowing the material to unfold so she could see the entirety of the dress.

‘Tonight there is a masked ball in Cambridge. It is for some anniversary of one of the colleges, but I have been invited, and you are coming as my guest.’