Page 46 of Maid for the Duke

For the first time, Lady Elizabeth faltered, glancing briefly at her companion before returning her gaze to Amelie. ‘Then our lives would be entirely our own. I will not force him to do what he does not wish.’

The silence stretched out in front of them. Lady Elizabeth had made her case now and sat down, folding her hands neatly in her lap, her eyes flitting between Will and Amelie.

Will leaned back in his chair, studying the three women. Lady Elizabeth’s poise was impeccable, her proposition as rational as it was scandalous. Amelie, pale and drawn, seemed to be wallowing in despair. Miss Flint had leaned in a little closer to Lady Elizabeth, but her expression remained neutral.

He closed his eyes, considering Lady Elizabeth’s words. This was not at all the disaster he had feared. It was something stranger: a possibility. He had been happier these last few weeks than he’d ever thought was possible. Every moment he’d spent with Amelie was joyful, but there was an inevitable black cloud hanging over them. Soon things would have to come to an end, and he was not ready for that.

Will exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand across his jaw. The idea that he would not lose Amelie, that he could keep her by his side without the ruin he had feared, was intoxicating. For one reckless moment, he imagined it working exactly as Lady Elizabeth had described: Amelie settled in one of his estates in the countryside, free from the judgmental stares of London, and him slipping away whenever he wished to be with her.

But then came the other voice, the stern echo of generations past. He was a duke. His very existence was tied to duty, to preserving his family’s legacy, securing the line, fulfilling obligations that had been drummed into him since boyhood. A marriage to Lady Elizabeth would go a long way to helping to fulfil the expectations society held for him, but he wondered if that was what he truly wanted. He glanced at Amelie, thinking of the affection they had shared these last few weeks. The physical side of their relationship had been incredible, but the closeness they had shared, the companionship and the happiness, was just as important.

He thought of his own parents’ marriage. Whilst he doubted it had initially been a love match, they had loved one another, and had ensured he and Catherine had understood the importance of harmony within a family. He could not have imagined that sort of happiness weeks ago—he had thought of marriage only as part of fulfilling his duty—but would he be cheating himself if he settled for something less? He closed his eyes momentarily. It was a mess. If he wanted a marriage like that, a marriage filled with affection and companionship, he would have to give up Amelie. Or he could agree to Lady Elizabeth’s proposal and live half his life hidden away.

He looked at Amelie, her pale face taut with worry. If he refused outright, she would face the future alone. If he accepted without thought, he might condemn them all to a scandal of a different kind.

‘Your proposition,’ he said carefully at last, ‘Is not what I expected.’ He met Lady Elizabeth’s gaze, steady and unflinching. ‘I cannot deny I am intrigued by your idea but am unsure what to do for the best.’

Lady Elizabeth inclined her head as though she had anticipated his hesitation. ‘I do not expect an answer today.’

‘I am grateful for that,’ Will said quietly. He turned to Amelie but she would not look at him. ‘I need time—to think; to speak with Amelie. What you ask touches all our lives, and I would not treat it lightly.’

Lady Elizabeth’s expression softened, and he saw her quite deliberately reach out and take Miss Flint’s hand in her own. ‘Take the time you need, Your Grace. You are right; there are four lives at stake here. It is important we get this right.’

Chapter Twenty-Two

Amelie could not move. Her body would not respond to any commands and she wondered if she had suffered an apoplexy. Just now, she wished more than anything for the familiarity of her home. She wanted to curl up under the covers of her childhood bed and wait for her mother to come and comfort her, to make everything better. It was doubly painful knowing that her place of comfort was long lost, along with her mother.

She glanced at Will and could see him deep in thought and she wanted to reach out, to pull him to her. She felt as though she were drowning, but because she was silent no one was taking any notice.

‘Amelie,’ a soft voice said, filled with warmth and gentleness. ‘Excuse my intrusion into your thoughts, but I wondered if you might like a little air?’

Amelie looked up into the kind face of Miss Flint and managed to nod. Fresh air might be exactly what she needed. At the moment her whole body felt on edge, locked in position by the panic that had taken over. She was still shaken by the revelation that gossip about Will and her was blazing through Cambridge and had also reached London. It felt as if her whole world had crumbled within a matter of minutes, her prospects for the future shrinking, pressing her back into perpetual worry about providing for her family.

She stood, glancing at Will, but Lady Elizabeth was talking to him about her dowry.

Following Miss Flint out into the garden, she breathed deeply, calmed a little by the sweet, fresh air. They walked a little away from the cottage, stopping when they got to the banks of the river.

‘I hope you don’t mind my boldness,’ Miss Flint said at last. ‘I saw your expression in there. The weight of this must feel unbearable.’

Amelie gave a brittle laugh. ‘Unbearable is one word. It feels as though the ground has been ripped away beneath me. Everyone knows my name. I cannot imagine ever finding another household willing to employ me now.’

Miss Flint slowed her pace and turned to look at her. ‘This may seem like I am being forward, given we have only just met, but it think it could be important for you to hear.’ There was pain in Miss Flint’s expression but she pushed on regardless. ‘I know how cruel gossip can be. I also know how it feels when the people you thought you could trust turn their backs.’

She hesitated, as though choosing her words carefully. ‘Before I met Lady Elizabeth, I lived in Oxfordshire. There was…another young woman, someone I loved dearly. We thought we were discreet, but her family discovered us. Like the situation you find yourself in now, the gossip spread very quickly; my name was on everyone’s lips.’

Amelie’s breath caught.

‘They spread vile rumours,’ Miss Flint continued quietly, her eyes shadowed with memory. ‘I was accused of corrupting her. The village turned against me. My parents, terrified of disgrace, sent me away. I had nothing.’

Amelie felt a pang of sympathy, fierce and raw. ‘How did you survive?’

‘I met Lady Elizabeth. She offered me protection, friendship and eventually something more than either of us had expected. With her, I have found peace again. A different life than I imagined, but a good one. A happy one.’

They walked a few more paces. Amelie’s throat felt tight.

‘I tell you this,’ Miss Flint said softly, ‘Because I think you and I stand in similar places. You love him; I can see it. And perhaps he loves you too. But the world will not bend for us. It never has. What Lady Elizabeth suggested…it is not madness. It is a chance. A way for all of us to keep what is most precious, even if the world does not accept it.’

Amelie stared at the roses, still vibrant in their colour. ‘And if it fails?’ she whispered.