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“Do not rise on my account.” She lowered herself onto the edge of the chair beside the bed as Mrs. Halpert leaned back against her pillows again. “You have more color in your cheeks this morning.”
“I feel as though that should be the case.” Her smile was wan. “I feel better today.”
“I am so glad to hear that.” But it was not what Andrew had said, was it? Had he been stretching the truth to keep Amelia home? It was a likely scenario, and it rankled. Her stomach swirled, meeting indignation with reluctant understanding. She couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect her. He’d watched her suffer a multitude of trials over the previous decade and cared about her.
Even still, sometimes it was difficult to be a woman.
“Did you enjoy yourself at the feast last evening?” Mrs. Halpert asked, her voice wavering as she adjusted herself against the pillows.
“I did. Though I shan’t bore you with those details.” The last thing she wanted to do was say something that would require her to divulge the whole of the adventure with Hattie at the church. Altering the conversation, she said, “Tell me of yourself instead. Where did you spend your childhood?”
Mrs. Halpert settled into her pillows comfortably as though she was warmly recalling her childhood. Wisps of dark hair framed her face, having escaped the braid that fell over her shoulder. Even frail and sickly, Mrs. Halpert was pretty. Amelia could see what drew Charles to this woman. She was lovely, yes, but there was something more. She was courteous and kind.
“In London, actually,” Mrs. Halpert said. “My father was in shipping, and we had a house in Cheapside.”
“Is that where you met your husband?”
She nodded, a soft smile curving her lips. “I met him while he was on leave, and we were married before he had to return to the navy. It was a difficult few years while we were apart, but we were able to better come to know one another through our letters. When he was hurt during a storm, we didn’t know what we were going to do. But Captain Sheffield offered us a home here if George was willing to work, and my George certainly was willing.”
“How fortunate you were to find love, Mrs. Halpert.”
The woman took in a shaky breath, her hand resting on her rounded belly. “Indeed. Where did you meet your husband?”
Amelia’s chest tightened. “At a ball in London, in fact. I attended the Season at a young, impressionable age and fell madly in love with a dashing gentleman. He was not one to do anything by halves, and we were engaged and married within five months of meeting. Henry was a little wild, and he died racing his carriage just three short weeks after our wedding.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” Mrs. Halpert’s delicate fingers rested against her lips. “How difficult that must have been to endure, and at so young an age.”
Amelia’s smile was tight. “It forced me to grow up quickly, and it certainly didn’t help that I lost my own parents just a few short months later from influenza.”
“Heavens,” she breathed.
Amelia needed to draw back, to turn the course of the conversation. It was likely not Mrs. Halpert’s intention to receive a full accounting of Amelia’s losses, and it was not Amelia’s desire to deliver one. Living through the five losses of her parents and husbands had been hard enough to bear. She certainly did not relish the pity that accompanied sharing her past.
“But enough about me,” Amelia said brightly. “I should love to hear more about your Mr. Halpert. I admit I never had the privilege of an introduction, but I do recall seeing him at church.”
“Then you’ll recall that he was tall and handsome,” Mrs. Halpert said with a twinkle of amusement glittering in her eyes.
“He won you over with a smile, I take it.”
She shook her head. “I saw him stop in the street to help a woman into a hackney while the driver just sat there and watched her struggle. George’s chivalry endeared me to him at once.”
Amelia’s chest warmed. “I understand you perfectly.”
“Oh? Was your husband the same?”
She sucked in a quiet breath. She could not lie, and neither could she avoid answering. “Not my first husband, but my second was.”
Mrs. Halpert’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t any idea you were married twice.”
“Three times,” Amelia corrected. She hesitated, afraid that her honesty, her tragic story as most considered it, would be too much for Mrs. Halpert’s fragile state of mind. Afraid she would be pitied by her new friend the way others saw her. That Mrs. Halpert, too, would assume Amelia to be blighted by a curse. But the woman’s beseeching gaze settled her mind, and she continued. “My second husband was similar to yours—chivalrous and thoughtful. He was a balm and support during my grieving period after my first husband died, and I grew to love him dearly. My third husband was simply a business arrangement. He knew it as well as I, and it was an amiable relationship, but we both had needs, so we struck a deal.”
“That sounds…”
“Heartless?” Amelia chuckled. “It wasn’t. Among other things, Mr. Fawn wanted a young, pretty wife. I wanted a home so I wouldn’t put my brother out. Andrew lived in a small cottage that hardly fit himself at the time—we practically stepped on one another’s toes.” She could have expressed her other reasons for agreeing to marry Mr. Fawn, but they were raw, and it was difficult to think on, let alone give a voice to them. Tucking that piece of her heart back away into the dim recesses of her soul, she fixed a smile on her face.
“The brother you speak of is Dr. Mason?”
Amelia nodded. “I lived with our other brother Frederick for a time, but he is married with a family, and Andrew and I have always been much closer. He has more than his share of humility. It took a lot of convincing to persuade him to move to Falbrooke after my husband’s death, but in the end, I managed it. Andrew cannot refuse me anything.” She pictured his stern, nervous gaze from that morning and cleared her throat. “Anything within reason, of course.”
