AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 15
Amelia forced herself not to gloat. It wasn’t ladylike, and, after all, she was far more satisfied that Mrs. Halpert was able to eat something than with the simple matter of having been the one to discover what had finally helped the woman. Apparently, bread could be a beautiful, magical thing.
The breakfast table was laden with dishes, and Amelia cut a small piece of ham and speared it with her fork. Tall windows lined the wall opposite her, and the cream, fleur-de-lis-patterned drapes were swept to the sides and fastened in place, allowing morning light to stream into the room.
“I am ashamed the idea did not come to me first,” Andrew said, blowing softly on his tea before carefully taking a sip. Smacking his lips quietly, he reached for a triangle of toasted bread and paused just before it reached his mouth. Gazing at it with wonder and appreciation, he shook his head. “Bread,” he said, as though it was a marvel.
Amelia swallowed her smile as best she could, but she understood Andrew’s feelings. Only two days before, they had stood around Mrs. Halpert’s bedside and scratched their heads over what they could possibly do to help her, and now she had eaten enough small portions yesterday to constitute a meal. It was a success by all accounts.
“Do you think I should remain home and look after her?” Amelia asked, her promise to Charles from the rainy evening a few days prior ringing in her mind. They were set to leave in one hour for the cricket match in Melbury, and she was equal parts eager to go and hesitant to leave Falbrooke.
“There are plenty of servants here, Amelia. I’ve already spoken to Tabby, and she will keep a diligent eye on our patient. You should come.” He paused, looking again at his toasted bread. “I truly believe Mrs. Halpert has a chance. She will come about.”
He could not know this for certain, but Amelia did agree with him that things were beginning to look quite a bit more promising for Mrs. Halpert. It was a blessed thing to realize that one’s patient was on an upward trend. She had enjoyed the ginger tea, claimed that it had settled her queasy stomach a little, and nibbled on bread. Quite a lot of bread when compared to what she’d been able to consume before, and entirely the opposite of what the Cunning Woman had suggested, but it had worked. And the siblings were not about to argue with something which was working.
“Are you nervous about the match?” Amelia asked.
Andrew tore his gaze away from the bread, shoving a bite into his mouth and smiling at her. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I am eager to let off some of my frustration. I’m certain we stand a solid chance at winning. And according to what I heard at Jolly’s last night, there’s a lot of blunt riding on Melbury winning, so I’d like to make certain they lose.”
“You mean people have placed bets on cricket?”
Andrew looked bemused. “Certainly. Most people are more concerned with winning the bet than the actual match.”
Her nose wrinkled. “How unsavory.”
Red crept up Andrew’s neck, his cheeks mottling, and he returned his focus to the toast dangling in his fingers.
“Do not say that you too have betted?” she asked.
“Of course I have,” he said defensively. “What kind of man would I be if I did not put money on my own men winning?”
“A sane man. A good one.” She scoffed. “Good heavens, people lose their fortunes from gambling like that”—she snapped her fingers to reiterate her point—“and you just partook in the scheme like a common simpleton?”
“It was harmless fun, Amelia, and I needn’t remind you that I have my own blunt, and what I choose to do with it is my concern.”
Yes, it was. She would do good to remember that. But she was merely frightened. “Good men fall victim to the delights of gambling, Andrew. I watched it happen with Arthur, and I’m nearly certain the same would have occurred with Henry had he lived long enough to lose his fortune. It frightens me, but you are right to correct me. I shouldn’t have chastised you.”
Andrew’s eyes softened. He reached across the table and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. This kind, affectionate, brotherly gesture did not send her heart pounding hard enough to jump from her chest as Charles’s hand had. But it did make her feel better.
“I am not reckless. I do not play cards and wager as some of my friends might. There were quite a lot of bets in Melbury’s favor, and I could not let us play with the wagers tipped so heavily toward them. We are more skilled than they are, and we will win.”
Now it was Amelia’s turn to feel foolish. She squeezed her brother’s fingers and pulled her hand away, decidedly not comparing it to Charles any longer, and directing her attention to cutting the sliced ham on her plate into smaller bites.
“I’m hoping we do stand a chance this year,” he said, taking another sip of his tea. “Charles and Nick rode ahead to ensure the ground was not too water-logged.”
“Would you cancel the match if it was?” she asked, wondering if Andrew’s answer would differ from Charles’s a few days prior.
Andrew clicked his tongue. “Probably not. But it’s good to be prepared, I should think.”
Ah, she should have expected that answer. Particularly from her mildly competitive brother. “You take this quite seriously.”
He looked mockingly severe. “It’s cricket, Amelia. More than that, it is a match against Melbury.”
Silence sat upon them a moment, her brother’s gaze piercing her. Well, perhaps his severity wasn’t entirely mocking after all. “And you are prepared, so you need not worry. Perhaps it is a blessing your friends have been working on that additional cottage in Charles’s vale, yes? They are fit to run and catch the ball to advantage now.”
He looked at her oddly. “They’ve always been fit to catch the ball. We came quite close to winning last year.”
“Yes, well…I only meant that their labor has likely helped build their athleticism. Surely that can only be an added strength today.”
