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Amelia
Ileftmyuncle’shouse in a state of rage. I could not fathom the sheer audacity and disrespect of Richard’s words.
Yes, I had risked my reputation to make it to my uncle’s bedside. I understood how inappropriate it must have seemed for me to arrive at Gracechurch Street with Will, but this was a matter of life or death. There were things far more important than social decorum, were there not? And seeing my most beloved uncle in what could have been his final hours was certainly one of them.
Could Richard not understand that? Would he rather I have stayed in Devonshire while Uncle Nicholas died, just so that my reputation would remain unstained?
He was so quick to judge my behavior. Richard had known me since I was a child. I hadthoughtthat he knew my heart and had faith in my morals. But his accusations proved otherwise. He had condemned me without ever stopping to consider myownexplanation.
Richard treated me as if I were incapable of my own thoughts or decisions… as if I needed a man, such as himself, to make them for me.
And, on top of that, he had treated Will like the worst of villains… like the dirt stuck under his boot. The Lord’s reputation was notorious, of course. But Will had spent the entire day with the doctor, aiding him in the treatment of my uncle. He had barely eaten or rested, and instead devoted his time to ensuring that Nicholas survived.
He was a Viscount, for God’s sake. We Allens meant nothing to him, in the scheme of things. Will could have simply left, his duty complete in ensuring my arrival.
But he had not.
No matter what the Lord’s reputation, that alone should have earned Richard’s respect.
I knew that it had earned mine.
As Will’s carriage bumped along the rutted cobblestone roads of London, my anger quickly faded into exhaustion. My sleep had been poor the night before, and the day had been long and arduous.
One moment, I was passionately deriding Richard’s behavior, and the next, I was fading into a heavy sleep… my eyelids too heavy to stay open.
Iawokeinforeignsurroundings. The sheets around me were so soft, I thought for a moment that I must have been dreaming still. But as my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, I realized that I was indeed awake… though it might as well have been a dream.
I was in a room not quite like any I had ever been in before.
A single candle was lit on the other side of the bedroom, illuminating the interior in a soft, yellow glow. It was a large room, larger than any bedroom I had ever slept in, with high, ornately carved ceilings and a row of tall windows along one wall. Intricately embroidered curtains were drawn across the windows, blocking out the light of the Mayfair street beyond.
The bed I had awoken in was large and placed in the center of the room. Two tables stood on both sides, and an ornate upholstered sofa, a dresser, and a vanity comprised the other objects in the bedroom. I could tell the furnishings were expensive just by looking at them… even more expensive than any of Lady Radcliffe’s rooms.
The only comparable rooms I had ever seen were at Rosehill… but I had, of course, never been allowed to sleep in them.
As I stood up, I realized that I was no longer in my dress. Instead, I was wearing a long white nightgown. It was a bit starchy and slightly too large, but still comfortable. I suddenly blushed, pondering how I had come to be undressed.
Surely, Will hadn’t…
I decided to halt that chain of thought. It would do me no good.
I walked over to one of the windows, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. I pushed the drapes back to find that night had already descended upon London. Beyond the window’s clear panes of glass, the Mayfair street below was lit with gas lamps. Just as I was pressing my face against the cool glass, the door to the bedroom opened behind me.
I spun around, expecting to see Lord Marsden, my face already coloring in embarrassment. Instead, I found a young woman staring back at me.
“Oh, Miss, you’re awake.” She stammered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No, don’t worry.” I said quickly, stepping towards her. “Please, stay.”
The maid watched me with a curious expression. I gave her a small smile, and she returned it.
“I was just coming to leave this gown… your own dress is being cleaned, but I’m afraid it’s not finished yet.”
She stepped over to the side of the room, hanging a dress on an ornate hook.
I stared down at the nightdress I was wearing.
“Is this…”
