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“Neither of my friends were vastly improved by their exertions with the cottages.”
She was not convinced. “Not Mr. Pepper, perhaps, but Charles? He’s never been one to exude an aptitude for athleticism.”
Andrew shot her a funny look. “I’m not sure where that idea formed. Charles has always jumped at the opportunity for sport. Shooting, fishing, riding, cricket. Charles is not a lazy creature by any means.”
Then why did she have the impression that he was? Casting her mind back to their childhood, she struggled to remember a time when Charles had participated in their games without annoying her. His need to follow her around and offer to assist her, to beg to be on her team…she’d never seen him participate heavily in any sport. The only sport he’d seemed to engage in was doing his utmost to catch her.
“All I remember is Charles following me around,” she said.
“Of course that is all you’d recall. He was mad for you—heaven knows why.” He gave her a cheerful, jesting smile. “But you never saw him when you weren’t around. When it was just the boys.”
She brought her fork to her lips and stalled it before taking a bite, Andrew’s words penetrating her memories and causing them to waver. How had he been when she was not around? When the object of his childhood infatuation was not there for him to direct his attention toward? It occurred to her that she hadn’t ever really known Charles the way others had, because he hadn’t given her the opportunity. By forcing her to constantly rebuff him, he had effectively placed a wall between them.
Well, they had built the wall together. If anyone was more at fault for the wedge driven between them in childhood, it would be Amelia and her immaturity.
All this time, Amelia had believed she knew him so well, but that could not be true. She knew the boy who had overwhelmed her with his devotion, but not the person he was when she wasn’t around. Now that his affection had shifted to Mrs. Halpert, was Amelia coming to know Charles as he truly was, as everyone else was able to know him?
Andrew stood. “I will see to it that Mrs. Halpert has everything she needs. Will you be ready to leave at quarter-till the hour?”
“I can check on her instead so you can prepare for the match.”
“No,” he said, backing toward the door. “I would like to see her before we leave.”
She nodded, chewing her ham, and Andrew left the breakfast room, his boots thudding mutely over the large carpet.
Amelia was halfway through her plate of ham and toast, contemplating the aspects of Charles’s character she’d likely missed in her youthful fixation on being rid of him, when the door opened and Hattie flounced into the room, swathed in green muslin with a cream-colored spencer jacket.
Taking the empty seat Andrew had recently vacated, Hattie leaned back and leveled her friend with a look, her cheeks pink and eyes glittering. “Good morning! I have just had the most bracing ride, and I cannot wait to watch Melbury lose today. It does seem most promising, does it not?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Hattie reached for a roll from the plate opposite Amelia and tore a small piece from it before popping it into her mouth. “I think it is most promising. Father says the Melbury men don’t stand a chance.”
“The betting book at Jolly’s would beg to differ.”
“It isn’t so much a betting book as it is bets on this one match,” Hattie corrected.
Amelia swallowed her shock that her friend knew such particulars. Though she should not have been surprised. She wouldn’t put it past Hattie to have placed a bet herself.
“My father was tempted to bet against our team, but his pride won out,” Hattie continued, picking away at her roll. “He couldn’t bet against Graton men, not when he is one of them.”
“Will he play today?”
“No, but he will certainly watch. He’s gone early to make certain the pitch isn’t too soggy.”
The rain had stopped at noon yesterday, but the sun had refused to peek out from behind a mass of clouds for most of the day, so chances of mud on the field were rather high. Hattie finished her roll and took another.
She took a bite and paused, her eyebrows drawing together in concern. “How is Mrs. Halpert faring?”
“Better, I think. She is able to eat small quantities of bread, and tea prepared with ginger has been helping to settle her nausea.”
Hattie’s freckled face broke out in a wide smile, her brown eyes rounding in delight. “I am so glad to hear it, Amelia.”
Would she be equally glad to learn that this woman was who Charles had finally given his heart to? No, Amelia. It was an uncharitable thought. And one that would make no difference to Hattie. Her designs on Charles had been purely in jest.
“Do you have any developments on your fox?” Amelia asked.
Hattie’s delicate features pulled into a frown. “No, nothing. I should probably send my maid to Mrs. Fowler for another incantation. Surely there is one which might reveal how long I must wait before I get to meet this man.” Her eyes rounded, bulging with terror. “What if this fox isn’t red, but he’s silver? What if I must wait until I am older before I find my true love?”
