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“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Halpert fidgeted uncomfortably, color bleeding into her cheeks as her slender fingers played with the fringe on her blanket.
It was a natural question to ask. The poor woman could not have known how deeply Amelia grieved for that loss in her life—the potential of any future children. Gathering strength, Amelia smiled warmly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I was not blessed with children. But I wasn’t married for long, and it was simply the nature of things.”
The sound of clopping hooves could be heard through the open window and Amelia stood, crossing to look outside. She was grateful for Andrew’s timely arrival and the ability to put an end to this difficult conversation. “Our carriage has arrived. Are you ready?”
Mrs. Halpert nodded, calmly swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sliding her feet into her shoes while Amelia closed the window. The cottage would remain empty for at least the next month or so, and they would need to secure it tightly to keep out animals.
Charles knocked at the door, his gaze resting on Amelia for only a moment before moving toward Mrs. Halpert. “Dr. Mason is here. What may I carry outside?”
Mrs. Halpert pointed. “Just the trunk there.”
He nodded, crossing the floor, and Amelia lifted a hand to stay him. She’d packed the ancient trunk herself, lining the bottom with layers of Mrs. Halpert’s books, and knew the weight would surely require two men.
Charles bent, lifting the trunk easily as though it weighed no more than a basket of apples, the muscles in his back straining against his coat. He turned, carrying it from the room, and Amelia could not help but follow him with her eyes, watching through the bubbled glass window as he placed the trunk on the boot of the carriage and proceeded to strap it down.
When had he grown so strong? The Charles she knew was idle. Sluggish, even. But this man had shown massive strength—twice now if she counted him pushing her gig from the mud. Which, she should. Clearly, it had not been an easy feat if even Howard had failed to pull her free.
Andrew came into the room, his copper hair in disarray as though he’d run his hand through it many times. “Good day, Mrs. Halpert. Are you ready to leave?”
She nodded, and Amelia moved to her side to help her stand. She strung an arm around Mrs. Halpert’s waist and allowed the woman to lean on her as they made their way to the door, Andrew following. Charles waited beside the open carriage door, his hands clasped simply behind him.
Amelia’s gaze was drawn to his arms before grazing up to his wide shoulders; she noted their breadth for the first time. Swallowing, she averted her eyes, focusing on the woman in her arms. Charles and his newly developed strength would have to be considered later—and they certainly would be.
She helped Mrs. Halpert onto the cushioned bench seat and sat beside her, looking through the window at Charles and Andrew in quiet conversation. The men were of the same height, but Charles’s width was greater, and he filled out his coat better. Tearing her gaze away yet again, Amelia forced her attention to the buttons on the upholstery of the bench opposite her.
Drawing in a breath, she snuffed out the attraction which pulsed in her chest. This would not do. It would not do at all.
