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“Thank you, Mrs. Collins,” she smiled at the lady who, despite her age, seemed to be filled with energy every time the two of them spoke.
Mrs. Collins proceeded to pour Amelia a cup, and both women paid close attention to the entire process. Amelia found solace in this everyday action. It made her forget the fact that if it hadn’t been for Arthur’s quick thinking, something terrible could have happened. Someone could have gotten gravely injured… or even worse. She dared not even contemplate that possibility.
She smiled when Mrs. Collins pulled away, leaving the teacup unattended. “Is that all, Lady Amelia?” she inquired politely, crossing her hands in front of her body.
She was probably as tired as the rest of them. Amelia thought she should dismiss her, like she did the rest of the servants, but she didn’t want to be alone while she was waiting for Arthur.
“Would it be rude of me to ask you to keep me company until Arthur’s return?” Amelia asked without the slightest pretense in her voice.
Mrs. Collins seemed surprised by the request, but she regained her senses quickly. A smile graced her face. She nodded barely perceptibly then moved closer to the armchair opposite the sofa where Amelia was seated and took a seat herself.
“Are you all right?” Mrs. Collins asked.
Amelia felt that in the month that she had been here, or perhaps a little over that period of time, she had been asked that question almost on a daily basis. The truth was that she didn’t feel well here initially. She was forced to come here as someone she did not even recognize. She did not come here as Amelia Cooke but rather as the Duchess of Mosebridge. That was a woman she did not know. It was a woman she slowly had to become, and that process was painful. It required anguish, sacrifice, and a lot of sympathy. Fortunately, Amelia always considered herself a strong woman. Now, she had the chance to prove it.
“I think so,” Amelia nodded, taking a cup into her hand, enjoying the soft stinging of the warmth on her palm.
“If you will permit me…” Suddenly, Mrs. Collins spoke with such tenderness that it took Amelia by surprise. “His Grace has been so happy since your arrival here, Lady Amelia. In fact, I have not seen him like this in years.”
Amelia blushed. “You are most kind in saying so, Mrs. Collins.”
“I know it is not my place to make such comments,” Mrs. Collins apologized, “but I saw His Grace’s first smile as a baby of just one hour old. It pains me so to see him unhappy.”
Amelia nodded. “He is a kind man.”
“He is so much more than just that,” Mrs. Collins disagreed although she made sure that she did so respectfully. “The best of men are often misunderstood by the rest of the world. But fortunately, all they need is one person, just one, who will love them unconditionally. That would be more than enough for them.”
Amelia didn’t know if Mrs. Collins expected her to admit loudly that she was in love with Arthur. It was an intimate confession which she had only accepted recently and started to act accordingly, finally letting go of all the pain and guilt that endeavored to mar her happiness. However, she wished to assure this sweet lady who only had her master’s best interests at heart that she loved him not only for the kind man that he was but also for the anguished soul that life forced him to become. Just as she was about to say something, Arthur appeared in the doorway. He seemed troubled instead of relieved.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Collins almost jumped up from her seat as if she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. “I have brought tea for your as well.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Collins,” he nodded without a smile as he walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Amelia. Mrs. Collins immediately understood that she was the odd one out in this company.
“Well, I shall leave you for the night, unless there is something else I can do for you,” she offered kindly.
“That would be all,” he addressed her with a weak effort of a smile, but it was a smile, nonetheless.
They all wished each other good night then Amelia was left alone with Arthur. She looked at him. Always, always at him.
The drawing room was one of her favorite rooms in this house. It faced the east, so quite often, the entire room was bathed in rich sunlight, making it appear as if everything was lathered in gold. That glow beckoned anyone who would be passing by to rest his or her weary head on the divan or the sofa and just breathe calmly for a moment.
“Arthur, I…”
“Amelia, I…”
They said each other’s names at the same time. The sound was so endearing that they both gasped then burst into a chuckle. She loved to hear him laugh in this manner without any restraint. It was the laughter of joy when you laugh knowing that everything was all right. How she longed to tell him those words.
“You go first,” she suggested with a smile.
“No, you… I insist,” he shook his head then he corrected himself. “Actually, may I go first? I feel like I am the one who needs to apologize.”
“You?” she wondered. “If anyone needs to apologize, it is me.”
“Perhaps we both ought to express our sorrow for what happened?” he suggested. She liked that idea, meeting half-way.
“Yes,” she urged. “You first, though.”
Her comment made him chuckle again then he grew serious, but his eyes still shone with that sparkle that she loved so much. “You reading my diary was something I… wasn’t expecting. Initially, it felt like a breach of my privacy because I trusted you with parts of the story I’ve never told anyone else. I was afraid that if you found out the truth, you would think me a monster, just like everyone else does. Now, even that damn gossip column is out, opening old wounds.”
