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She sighed as she looked around the room, taking in the light layer of dust on the furniture. She needed to speak to the staff about cleaning the room more often since she would now be using it for her writing. She’d had a near miss in the library. She couldn’t risk Lowenbrock finding her there again while she was writing. He might start to ask questions, and she didn’t want to lie to him.
The sitting room wasn’t so bad. It didn’t have a desk upon which she could spread out the pages of her manuscript, but she could use her lap desk. The room didn’t have a view of the gardens as the library did, but there were two windows that let in plenty of light. It would have to do if she didn’t want to find herself sequestered in her bedroom all day.
She placed the small sheaf of papers she carried on a side table.
Mr. Markham closed the door to the room before glancing at the pages. “Is that what I think it is?” At her nod, he continued, “You need to take greater care unless you want Lowenbrock to learn about your career as an author.”
Amelia slapped a hand over her mouth when she gave an indelicate snort. “You mean my aspiration to be an author. There is no guarantee I will ever sell a book.”
He shrugged. “The only way to fail for certain is to give up. But I’m sure you’ll succeed. You are one of the brightest people I’ve met. And don’t forget, I did read your first novel.”
“Boring as it was.” Embarrassment colored her words as she remembered the criticism leveled against her book.
Mr. Markham shrugged. “It was your first novel. You’d never written one before, so it stands to reason it would need some work.”
She lowered herself onto one end of the small settee while the solicitor sat on the opposite end. “I’ve taken the publisher’s advice. The book I’m working on now will have more excitement. And I can already see where I went wrong with the first one. I take comfort in the fact I’m already growing with respect to storytelling.”
“That’s my girl,” he said. “And you never know what will happen. You might be able to rework your first book at some point in the future and sell it.”
Amelia gave her head a little shake to clear it of wishful thoughts that might never come to pass. “Never mind any of that. What do you think you’re doing, trying to play matchmaker between Lowenbrock and myself? You’re no better than all those men who want to make matches for their daughters.”
He raised a brow. “You’re mistaken if you believe that. We have the advantage, after all. You already live here, and it’s clear he likes you.”
Amelia frowned. “Such a tepid word. He’d need to do more than like me before he asked for my hand.”
“So you’ve considered it?”
“Of course not.” Well, not for her. She was headed in that direction between the hero Lowenbrock had inspired and the heroine of her current book. “I think that at best, he considers me a sister.” She couldn’t help but frown at the thought.
“We’ll change that, never you worry.”
“We?Does that mean you’re staying? And I never said I wanted to change his mind about courting me.”
Mr. Markham gave her that penetrating stare she found so unsettling at times. The one that told her he could see straight through to her very thoughts. “You’ll have time to decide what you want as you prepare for the ball. And no, I must return to London. I’m not sure these old bones will be up for another long trip so soon.”
Amelia pushed away her disappointment. “I need to speak to Mrs. Hastings about our plans, but I’m not sure when the marquess will want to host the ball. The season is getting underway now, so it might be best if we wait until the summer.”
Mr. Markham nodded. “July will be good. Parliament is supposed to sit until July second. If Lowenbrock is still in hiding when everyone returns to the country, they might just break down the doors.”
The image of a mob of beautiful young women throwing themselves at Lowenbrock’s feet had her frowning. And Mr. Markham’s next words left her momentarily speechless.
“I’m glad to learn the new marquess is a good man. And if you can catch his eye, I’ll be able to stop worrying about you.”
She aimed a quelling look his way, ignoring the way his words caused a small flutter within her belly. “I know Uncle charged you with looking out for me, but I’m no longer a girl. I’m content with my life.”
He didn’t contradict her, but she could see that he wanted to. She knew exactly what was on his mind—what he hoped would happen between her and Lowenbrock. And she’d be lying to herself if she said the suggestion wasn’t compelling. She’d thought about what it would be like to be with him when he’d come to her aid at the tavern. It was hard to believe that had been less than one week ago. But unless she told Lowenbrock the truth about their first meeting, she would have to remain content to craft happily-ever-afters for the characters in her books.
She retrieved the small stack of pages from the side table and stood. “I should return these to my bedroom before seeking out Mrs. Hastings.”
Mr. Markham held the sitting room door open for her, and she slipped down the hallway and into the refuge of her bedroom, determined not to entertain the foolhardy notion that Lowenbrock would come to care for her as more than his charge.
Chapter 15
June 1816
Since Amelia had only made useof a few rooms after her uncle passed away, much of the house had been closed off. That included the guest bedrooms in the west wing. With plans for the ball underway, Mrs. Hastings took her to every one of those rooms so they could catalog the furnishings and ensure the rooms would be ready to receive guests. Amelia had explained that only a few of those rooms would be used for guests of the ball. But she couldn’t argue when the housekeeper suggested it would be more efficient to go through all the rooms now so they would be available for the marquess’s future needs.
And so, after breakfast each morning, Amelia visited some of the closed rooms with Mrs. Hastings and a selection of maids. The contents of each room were cataloged and a plan of action created for what needed to be done with respect to cleaning and updating the linens and draperies. Lowenbrock had already approved a generous amount of money for improvements, and Amelia was determined to stay within that budget. Fortunately, only a handful of rooms needed more than an airing out and thorough dusting.
