Will She Be Mine

by Jessica L. Jackson

  Amelia, feeling herself blush from the roots of her hair down to the tips of her toes, curtsied awkwardly and wished that she could somehow disappear entirely, leaving not a hair or a thought behind. Lord Leakesly, a handsome, fair-haired man a few years younger than Thaddeus, drew a chair out for her. The Duchess, a strikingly beautiful mature woman with cascades of red hair, asked her how she fared after the walk to the green. The duke, dark and dressed rather oddly all in black, like a valet, smiled kindly at her and mentioned that his dear Kathryn also enjoyed a rather interesting condition. This child would be their seventh and was due near Christmas. Rather overwhelmed by their kindnesses, Amelia could only smile and nod and utter incomplete nothings in response.

  “Another little Caxton?” Thaddeus exclaimed, pounding Raven on the back. “Congratulations. We must toast the good news. Come, let’s find some lemonade and salute your prowess.”

  “Thaddeus!” Kathryn cried, rolling her eyes. He merely laughed at her and carried Justin and the duke off to help him with the refreshments. She turned her attention back to Amelia.

  Feeling somewhat abandoned, Amelia smiled shyly and even a bit fearfully at the older woman. Before the duchess could speak, however, the two spinsters rescued her.

  “Your grace,” Miss Sadie said, furling her parasol and thrusting it at Angus who hovered nearby. He held the frilly thing as if it would break and looked stonily at anyone who glanced his way. “Are any of your other children joining us today? Mr. Milborough mentioned, did he not, that Lord Leakesly is your son?”

  “Yes, he is my son. And no, my other children will not be joining us today. We did not bring them to Yorkshire for this visit,” Kathryn explained, a humorous twinkle in her green eyes. Once again her gaze returned to Amelia and once more an interruption prevented her from addressing her.

  “How old are your other children?” Miss Ann asked, her thin eyebrows rising until they disappeared beneath the smooth bands of her gray hair. “How they must be looking forward to this new addition to their family. At your age, too. They must have thought you finished with childbearing.”

  Amelia gasped softly, her eyes huge. She gazed in shock at the effrontery of the two sisters. Amazingly, it seemed these old darlings meant to protect her from possible attack by the Duchess of Lipton, one whose rank placed her immeasurably higher on the social scale than any of them. Thaddeus’ cousin. As the youngest son of an Earl, she had not thought them so unequal in rank. Her own father was the third son of a Viscount. But now? Her heart sank. His family must be here to object to his association with her—a pregnant, unmarried woman of barely acceptable rank with no support or acknowledged connections.

  The duchess’s answers barely registered. Maybe Lady Caxton said something like nineteen, sixteen, fourteen, twelve, and… But by then Amelia’s spirits hung so low that she scarcely took any notice. The dream was such a nice fantasy, she thought wistfully—kind of like a game of pretend played in the garden. She gazed across the green to where Thaddeus stood with his cousin and the duke. The sun struck the three men, who laughed and talked animatedly together, and she thought she’d rarely seen a finer sight.

  “So, I suppose my father sent you?” Thaddeus asked, scowling good-naturedly. He handed a coin to the lemonade attendant and waved away the change. He picked up his three glasses and waited while Raven and Justin picked up their two.

  “Not your father,” Raven admitted. “It was your mother. She sent an especially long letter to Kathryn last week begging her to come and see the woman you keep writing about.”

  “I have warned you before,” Justin said, shaking his head at his cousin while juggling his two glasses. “If you do not want the whole family knowing your business, keep your business to yourself. Mum’s the word, old fellow.”

  Thaddeus grinned sheepishly and came near to scuffing his foot across the ground like a schoolboy making a confession. “I could not help myself. My feelings overwhelmed my reserve.”

  “She has a bit of the look of her grandmother,” Raven murmured, glancing over at their table, where his wife spoke animatedly to the Misses White. Miss Amelia Horton sat composedly looking back at them. “If her grandmother is Lady Horton?”

  “I believe she is,” Thaddeus replied.

  “How did she get—?”

  Raven’s blunt question caught Thaddeus off-guard and he stammered his answer. “I…I do not know. She has not made me privy to her confidences.”

  “Your mother—” Justin began, shaking his head.

  “Will adore her,” Thaddeus finished. His comment secured the two men’s astonished silence. Before either could open their mouths again, he added firmly, “As will my sisters. And my father. And my five brothers.”

  Thaddeus frowned when he caught Amelia looking at them, a faraway expression on her face. “I think she’s upset.”

  “She appears very tranquil to me,” Justin said, hastily following behind, careful of his full glasses.

  When they reached the table, they handed out the lemonade with a flourish.

  “I told you, young man, that I was parched,” Miss Sadie said caustically, accepting her glass. “And yet you stood over there blabbering and conversing like three hens while we have been left suffering.”

  “Indeed, ma’am, that was not our intent,” Thaddeus murmured smoothly. He drew a chair forward so that he could sit as close to Amelia as was seemly. Under cover of adjusting her shawl as it had fallen to the ground, he whispered to her, “What is wrong? Are you ill?”

  Amelia turned a melancholy smile upon him and murmured beneath her breath so that he strained to hear her. “It’s been rather like a happy dream, has it not?”

  “What has?”

  “Us.”

  Thaddeus did not pretend to misunderstand her. Though he occasionally allowed himself to slip into scientific abstraction where all he thought about was his work, he did have flashes of lucidity. Amelia’s presence often put him in a similar romantic stupor of thought, but the actions of his neighbors had wiped the bemusement from his mind.

  “Be brave,” he encouraged, taking her hand. He ignored everyone else around them and focused his attention entirely on her. Amelia’s expression brightened as his words sank in. “We have allies.”

  Chapter Eight

  In spite of efforts to pry them away over the next few hours, the Misses White affixed themselves to Amelia like gum plasters. Gradually, once the initial shock wore off, other members of their small community began to nod and curtsy as they passed. No one wanted to be seen giving the cut indirect to the Misses White or the squire and his wife, or to Mr. Milborough’s socially prominent cousins. The vicar and his wife sat with them during the luncheon but moved through the villagers afterward.

  After three hours, Kathryn had not managed to utter a single direct question to the younger woman. Her husband urged her to learn more about the girl but she confessed that she was thwarted on every front. Finally, instructing Justin to carry his cousin away to play at lawn skittles, Raven offered to escort Amelia to the sidelines of the playing lane to watch the two men throw while his wife kept the spinsters entertained.

  “When you and Thaddeus arrived,” Raven said, his tone gentle and kind, setting her at ease, “I thought he looked very happy with his companions.”

  “Thank you. I thought you were a valet when I first saw you,” Amelia confessed, struggling to keep her composure as they dawdled toward their destination.

  “Believe me, my dear Miss Horton,” he said, laughing, “you are not the first person to think so.” He leaned toward her as if imparting a secret. “Many people call me the Black Duke. It is a sobriquet to which I have grown accustomed.”

  “Why do you wear only black?” she asked, tempted by his easy manner to be more forward than customary.

  “It is a long story, my dear,” Raven replied, softening his rebuff with a chuckle. “I would like to hear more about you. Where is your family? Why are you alone here in Yorkshire? No, no. Please, do not
stiffen up.”

  “Your grace,” Amelia said in a small voice choked with emotion, “I would hardly reveal to you, a stranger, what I have not yet explained to Mr. Milborough.”

  “Of course not. You misunderstand me,” Raven said, his voice calm. “I do not require the intimate details of why you are in Yorkshire. Merely what you might tell anyone.”

  Amelia looked at him suspiciously. He was a very handsome, fit man even though gray hair stood out at his temples and smile lines creased his face. She gazed deeply into his gray eyes and saw sympathy there. Unaccountably, she felt that she could confide all to him. However, she did not. She granted him the abbreviated explanation.

  “Hinderwell is almost as far away from Weymouth as my parents could think to send me. Certainly a place could have been found for me in Scotland, I suppose,” she mused caustically. “However, they like Scotland.” Amelia was forced to pause until Raven stopped laughing. “They’ve never liked Yorkshire. Not since my mother became ill from the sulfuric waters in Harrogate.” This last caused him to laugh again. Really, Thaddeus has the most delightful family.

  “Thaddeus introduced you as Miss,” Raven mentioned, sobering for his next probing question. “How did the villagers discover that you were not a widow?”

  “My parents informed them,” Amelia said shortly, since anyone might tell him this—it was common knowledge. She feared her pain remained evident in spite of her efforts to conceal it.

  The Black Duke drew up sharp and stared at her with incredulity. She shrugged, attempted to look nonchalant, then almost broke down when Raven said in a low, hoarse voice, “My dear girl!”

  “We can hardly blame them,” she whispered, then watched the duke struggle to find a reply. Dark anger suffused his countenance. He looked as if he wanted to kill someone.

  “I can,” he bit out at last, his contempt for her parents clearly evident.

  “Thank you,” she said simply.

  “Thaddeus’ family is a very large one. In fact, prodigious may not be a large enough word to describe their number. You won’t miss yours,” Raven promised.

  By this time they’d reached the spectators and no private speech remained possible, which was fortunate, since Amelia found that she could not speak. Gratitude for the duke’s compassion filled her heart. Nothing had been settled between herself and Thaddeus—to be sure they were only beginning to know each other—but she knew that she could not long delay in explaining her history to the gentle man who had made his intentions clear to his neighbors, his community and his family. Before events could be irrevocably set in motion, she must reveal her secrets to him. This hideous thought almost made her faint.

  They stayed quite late at the gathering, eating jacket potatoes roasted in the bonfire coals for supper along with huge slices of a roasted bullock provided by the squire. With the drive back to Leakesly Manor ahead of them, Thaddeus’ family took their leave soon after their meal. They behaved very graciously to Amelia, setting the example of acceptance to the entire gathering as they said their goodbyes.

  When the maypole dancing had ended, Thaddeus noted that not only Amelia was fading but the Misses White looked as if they should have been in bed hours before.

  “Ladies,” Thaddeus said, approaching them with Angus and Mrs. Edley, who proudly displayed her two first-place ribbons on her bodice, in tow. “I believe it is time for me to escort you all home. Are you ready to leave?”

  “We will be going home in the squire’s carriage, thank you,” Miss Ann said, nodding kindly. She looked sharply at Amelia’s pale face. “Perhaps you should not be walking home either, Miss Horton.”

  “I am fine, thank you, Miss Ann.” Amelia rose and pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “Thank you so much for your company today. I cannot express with enough eloquence what your support has meant to me.” She brushed a tear away before anyone around them could see it.

  “Now, now. None of that. We shall see. Won’t we?” Miss Sadie’s cryptic reply was followed by a dry chuckle. “We’ve had a choice day today, have we not, sister?”

  “Oh, yes,” Miss Ann said, sighing contentedly. “I have rarely been in such a fair mood. Have a good night, dear,” she said to Amelia, obviously dismissing them both.

  Several villagers waved to them as they passed on the way home, warming Amelia’s heart. She sighed with contentment, leaning a bit on Thaddeus’ arm as they entered their lane.

  “Thank you so much for taking me to the fête, Thaddeus,” she murmured quietly to keep their conversation private. “I had a lovely time. And your family is nice too.”

  “They liked you,” he replied honestly, enjoying the feel of her next to him. The setting sun cast a lovely glow across the houses, softening hard edges and enveloping them in an unreal radiance. “How could they not?” Thaddeus brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.

  “How, indeed?” she asked breathlessly.

  He watched Amelia cast an anxious look over her shoulder, but their servants walked a respectful six paces behind.

  “Did you see me beat Justin at skittles? I trounced him royally,” Thaddeus announced, laughing softly, so happy he thought he might explode with the delicious feeling. Poets tried to explain falling in love but their efforts now seemed insipid next to the real process. “Look at how long our shadows reach. All the way into the future.”

  Amelia watched their shadows precede them down the lane and had to smile at his metaphysical observation. She turned impulsively to Thaddeus and looked up imploringly into his gentle face. He raised an eyebrow and smiled at her.

  “Mr. Milborough, would you do me the honor of taking me for a drive on Monday?”

  Angus, who had caught up with them, coughed behind his hand and offered, “May come on to rain, sir.”

  “Then on the first fine day?” I’m not begging, she thought to herself, and then glanced at the servants to gauge their opinions. Both servants had wooden expressions, though Amelia thought that Mrs. Edley wanted to kick Mr. McLeod.

  “The honor will be mine, Miss Horton. Most delighted.”

  While graciously spoken, Amelia thought she detected a trill in his voice that sounded suspiciously like joy. Or rather what she’d always imagined joy would sound like. Her own soul, heavy with her intended revelations, behaved with more decorum. Outwardly calm, she nodded and said, “Well, then. Thank you, once more, for escorting me to the fête.”

  “Not at all,” Thaddeus murmured. He saw that they had reached her gate. Their time together had passed much, much too quickly. With the utmost reluctance, he opened the barrier and guided her up the walk to her front door. After taking her key and unlocking the door, he passed the key back to her. Hating to go, he stood beside her, rocking back on his heels, then forward again. How he wanted to kiss her.

  “Good bye.” She smiled and placed her hand on the door handle.

  Hastily, his voice hoarse with checked desire, he said, “I hope Monday is fine.”

  Amelia looked shyly back. “As do I.” Then she opened the door and left him on the doorstep.

  Chapter Nine

  Angus’ weather sense proved accurate. Rain started around Sunday noon and had not let up by the time a knock sounded on the front door of Rose Thorn Cottage soon after lunch on Monday. Amelia’s heart thudded an orchestra of anticipation. She pinched her cheeks to add color and draped her sea-green cotton dress more becomingly around her stomach and knees while she waited in the front parlor. The sour look on Mrs. Edley’s face when she swung open the door presaged trouble. Amelia frowned and stood up.

  In a voice of doom, Mrs. Edley stated, “‘Tis the Lady’s Guild, mum.”

  “A-all of th-them?” Amelia whispered.

  “Them as thinks they’re important, mum.” She stood aside to allow four women to walk into the parlor. There were the Misses White, the vicar’s wife, Mrs. Creston and a lady Amelia had never met before. “Will you be wanting tea?”

  “Um. Yes. Than
k you. And—”

  “We’ve got some parkin.”

  Amelia looked at her unexpected guests. “May I offer you some ginger cakes with your tea, ladies?” When they said nothing she nodded to Mrs. Edley, who left the room, but did not close the door.

  “Welcome to my home, ladies.” Amelia indicated that they should sit. The four middle-aged village tyrants sat down on the very edges of their chairs as if anticipating the need to bolt. “Mrs. Creston, would you kindly introduce this lady to me, please?”

  In a nasal voice that grated across her listener’s ears, Mrs. Creston, a scrawny horse-faced woman, did the honors. The fourth lady proved to be the butcher’s wife, Mrs. Teasel, who looked jolly and plump and very uncomfortable dressed in her Sunday best.

  “Miss Horton,” Miss Sadie said in a prim, determined, voice. She displayed no sign that a deeper understanding existed between her and Amelia. Miss Ann also acted coldly polite and distant. “We have not come on a social visit. Mr. Milborough has become marked in his attentions toward you and we wish to know the full, and correct, circumstances of your delicate situation.” She looked at her fellow guild members for support. They all nodded emphatically. “We know the story your parents told. We want the truth from your own lips. Mr. Milborough has lived in Hinderwell for five years and is, therefore, a foreigner.” She took a deep breath and fixed the quaking Amelia with a basilisk-like stare. “But we are all partial to him.”