AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Charles paused once he reached the corridor, noticing the small maid who had risen when they left and crossed toward her mistress. The offer to remain at Falbrooke for dinner was enticing, but would it be wrong of him to accept? He would hate to make Amelia uncomfortable. Indeed, if being around him caused her distress, it would be far better for him to leave. “I should be getting home.”
“Oh, come. You cannot stay for one hour?”
Charles’s voice was dry. “Dinner in this house is hardly going to last less than two hours. Particularly if you are hoping to finagle a game of chess out of me.”
Andrew smiled, starting toward the stairs and preceding Charles down. “You know me too well. Can you blame me? Amelia hasn’t been interested in playing in some time.”
“Well, I hardly blame her. You are a…formidable opponent.”
They reached the entryway and Andrew chuckled. “I cannot say anything to persuade you to stay?”
“To dinner?” Amelia asked, stepping from the corridor behind them. The wall sconces had been lit, and light jumped about the walls from the dancing flames. It appeared as though she had just come through the door which led down to the servants’ stairs. “Mr. Fremont, you must stay. Allow us to show our gratitude for all you’ve done for us these last few weeks.”
“I would hate to be an imposition—”
Amelia’s voice was firm. “I was just downstairs speaking with Cook, and I happen to know that we have plenty to share. So you must come up with a better excuse.”
Charles chuckled. He couldn’t help himself. The impish, playful smile on Amelia’s face pierced his chest and warmed his heart. This woman, this kind, happy Amelia, was someone he’d like to be around always. But he could not ignore the sudden alterations she had made that evening. It was enough to make his head spin, and he knew he could not inquire why her moods had shifted so readily, not when he was doing his best to love her from a distance.
But this invitation to dinner would not be breaking his resolve, surely. And with Amelia’s entreating expression, her soft gaze and heart-shaped lips turned up just at the edges, it was difficult to deny her anything.
Smiling, he nodded. “Very well.”
* * *
Amelia’s chest had constricted the moment Charles had agreed to stay for dinner when they had spoken earlier in the entryway. Was she an absolute glutton for punishment?
Yes. Yes, she most certainly was.
Puffing up her cheeks, she blew out a breath through her teeth, her gaze searching the ceiling of the drawing room. Dinner with Andrew and Charles had been a long, tedious affair, and her original idea to question Charles on the nature of his relationship with Mrs. Halpert had not been as easy to accomplish as she had let herself believe it would be. In fact, getting a word in at all had been difficult to manage with Andrew droning on about the upcoming cricket match and their drawn-out discussion of who was best suited to take the role of umpire.
Poking her needle through the delicate white lawn fabric of the baby cap she’d been working on, Amelia drew the white thread through the edge and pulled it tight before her gaze strayed to the other side of the drawing room once more. The men were quiet, absorbed in their game of chess, which afforded her the opportunity to watch them discreetly.
Charles reached for a white piece and moved it on the board before sitting back in his chair, an amused glint in his eye. Andrew, scowling down at his black pieces, leaned forward in his seat.
Amelia ran the needle through her fabric again, completing the edging design she’d added to the cap before tying off the thread and snipping it with her small swan-handled scissors. Angling her work toward the fire, shadows and light danced over the delicate white fabric as she analyzed it for consistency. She hoped Giulia would like the simple outfit for her baby. Amelia had considered adding blue or green embroidery to the cap, but white work was elegant and suited her tastes.
Circling the baby cap in her hands, she thought of the woman residing upstairs and her precious babe. If consuming small amounts of bread or ginger tea did not work, what would they do? Amelia remembered well the illness that had led her to believe herself pregnant shortly after learning of Arthur’s death, and how distraught she had been to discover it was not due to a babe that she’d cast up her accounts, but merely an illness.
The devastation of realizing her womb remained empty had nearly eclipsed that of losing her husband. The impounded grief had sent her into a dark place from which she had barely managed to escape when returning to Devon to reside with Andrew.
That Mabel and Hattie had been close by had been a healing balm to her brokenness. The support shown to her in that horrible, upsetting time had helped her pull through the darkness and find a way to manage her life. The daily rides on Howard had also been a large part of her finding joy again, and she owed him a debt of gratitude.
But the very deep recesses of her mind would not easily forget the acute pain and devastation she’d lived through after realizing that she had not only lost both of her darling husbands but any chance at children again. It had been a lonely discovery.
Who could fault her, at that point, when she’d succumbed to the temptation of potentially filling a nursery and accepted Mr. Fawn’s offer? He wanted posterity and a wife to pass away the time with. She wanted security, a home, children. It had been business and nothing more.
A failed business, she considered ruefully. Mr. Fawn contracting pneumonia had not been part of her plan.
Though she had received a comfortable home that provided for her and her brother. Comfort and security were no small things.
“Gads, man. I did not see that coming,” Andrew said, perplexed, startling Amelia from her musings. He blinked at his friend, and Charles shrugged.
Andrew turned his attention swiftly to the board, and Amelia suppressed a laugh. Her brother was a saint in most regards but pit him against a worthy opponent in any game, and he lost all politeness, possessing not even a modicum of decorum. Which was exactly why she had refused to play chess against him any longer.
Charles glanced up and caught her eye. He offered her a small smile, amusement playing on his lips. Had he always been so steadfast and uneasily ruffled? She couldn’t recall. All Amelia knew was the deep yearning she had to provoke the man until he was well and truly ruffled was almost overwhelming.
His steady gaze turned questioning, and Amelia shook the thought. She needed to cease staring so he would not wonder next if she was ill.
