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How could she persuade him to see it? She felt almost desperate in her hope that the old woman had written her with the advice she needed.
But there was no letter tacked to the door when they arrived at the school. Amelia tapped down her disappointment—there could be any number of reasons why, although generally the old crone could be depended upon to respond right away. Still, Amelia was certain the letter would be there on the morrow.
But there was no letter the next day, either. Or the day after that.
“You are to be commended, Miss Ivanosen,” Mr. Roberts said cheerfully. “I think you’ve finally rid us of our bothersome midnight caller.”
Like so many other times in her life, that had not been her intent.
She felt her despair swallowing her regard for the duke, threatening to suffocate all hope.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
WHATHADSTARTEDout as a beautiful sunlit day had rapidly descended into a hellish one for Lila.
She’d had her morning stroll, enjoyed a hearty breakfast, and was sitting down to write some messages to people in London when the post arrived. There was a letter from her husband, Valentin, which she eagerly opened first. The news was not good—his trip to London to see her had been delayed indefinitely. He wrote to ask when she would be home, told her that he missed her, and asked why was it that the royal matches always took the longest when it stood to reason they would be the easiest. Didn’t everyone want to marry a prince or princess, he asked?
No, darling. Not everyone.
The next letter was from Baron Hancock, who wrote to regretfully inform her that he could not come to England after all, that business kept him at home.
She was terribly disappointed. For the first time in many years, she felt herself running out of options. But Lila was not one to concede. The letters from Valentin and the baron only strengthened her resolve to find Princess Amelia a proper match as quickly as possible. And given the princess’s mood the last few days, she thought her only possible hope was Marley.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t yet thought of a clever way to bring him around.
From there, Lila went down to lunch with Blythe and Beck and their two youngest daughters. The older girls were at school with the princess. Lila was surprised to sense a palpable tension when she entered. Peg-leg Meg and Birdie were playing with a little rolling cart, stuffing their dolls into it, then pulling the cart around the dining room table. Blythe’s face was pinched, and Beck looked thunderous. Lila had never seen him in any mood less than affable. She hesitated at the door and thought she would quietly back out, but Beck beckoned her in. “Come, come, Lila.”
“I don’t—”
“Yes, please come in,” he said firmly.
Lila slowly entered the room and took her seat at the dining table.
“Girls, it’s time for your lunch. Come to the table please,” Beck said.
“I don’t want to,” Meg said.
“You will do as I ask,” Beck said.
“But I don’twantto—”
Beck’s hand hit the table so hard that the dishes and glassware bounced and rattled. “You will do as I tell you or you won’t have lunch at all, Margaret! Do you understand me?”
Meg understood, all right. She began to cry. Then so did Birdie.
Lila was astounded. She’d never heard Beck raise his voice to his daughters, his wife, or anyone else, for that matter. And clearly, neither had they.
Blythe stood from her chair. “Mrs. Hughes!” she called. She scooped up Birdie and grabbed Meg’s hand, pulling her to the open door. “Mrs. Hughes, you are needed!” She took the girls out of the dining room.
“I beg your pardon,” Beck said as he slowly sank back in his chair. “It has been a trying morning.”
Lila remained silent.
Blythe was back in a moment and resumed her seat. “Our apologies.”
“Yes, yes, our apologies,” Beck agreed. “I beg your pardon, darling,” he said, reaching for his wife’s hand. “I didn’t mean to snap.”
Blythe smiled sympathetically. “Who can blame you? After such news.”
