The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection

by Patricia Kiyono

  Amelia stood, stepped behind her seat, and lifted her chair.

  “My dear Amelia, whatever are you doing?” Edward asked. “There’s no need to move your chair. I believe there is plenty of room for this in front of you.”

  Amelia plastered on a semblance of a smile for her brother. “Perhaps there is, Edward, but I believe Mademoiselle Colette would be much more comfortable if I move my chair. That will, er, give her more leg room.”

  Phillip popped up from his seat. “Allow me to assist you.”

  Amelia started at Phillip’s announcement. She hadn’t expected help. She simply wanted to watch the program without a view of Colette and the love seat in front of her. The chair wasn’t heavy, though a bit unwieldy. But Phillip took her chair with one hand and his own with the other and walked ten feet to their left. He set both chairs down then gestured for her to resume her seat.

  A flurry of activity had her turning her head and nearly gasping with surprise. The entire audience followed Phillip’s suit, wordlessly moving their own seats approximately ten feet to the left. The action left Colette and Edward sitting alone on one side of the stage, and the rest of the party on the other.

  Desiree, standing on the edge of the stage, watched the proceedings without comment, though Amelia thought she noted a smirk on her lovely face. Laurel and Merilee, having already taken their places on the stage, cast curious looks as they observed their audience’s migration to one side. They were young, but they knew the significance of the action. It was as good as a cut.

  As soon as the group re-settled, Desiree clapped her hands for attention. “Dear friends, thank you for returning. The Linden girls have some more entertainment for you. They will now perform together the Andante movement from Mozart’s Piano for Four Hands in D Major.”

  The girls plunged into their music as if to stave off another disruption. Amelia stole a glance to her right. Colette lounged in the love seat, either blissfully unaware of — or stubbornly unconcerned about — the discontent she had caused. But Edward, seated in a regular chair beside her, squirmed uncomfortably. He knew the audience had snubbed him. Hopefully he had finally come to his senses and realized the damage his fiancée could do to him.

  She turned her attention back toward the stage. Beside her, the tall man sat at a respectful distance yet so close the nearness produced heat.

  Perhaps she needed to wear lighter clothing.

  Chapter Four

  Amelia settled her bonnet over her curls and reached for her gloves. She didn’t call for Jeanne. Getting herself dressed for an outing, especially when the weather outside was sunny and relatively warm, wasn’t that difficult. It had always seemed a waste of time to wait for servants to assist her with tasks she was perfectly capable of doing on her own. Besides, if Jeanne knew she was leaving, the rest of the household would find out, and she didn’t want everyone knowing about her excursion.

  “Lady Amelia!” The butler’s voice stopped her just before she reached the gate.

  She froze. Marks was a stickler for convention. As a woman — especially an unmarried woman — she shouldn’t leave the house unattended. But a companion would slow her down and make it more difficult to go and do as she wished.

  “Lady Amelia, Giles is ready to accompany you. Kindly wait a moment.” He didn’t have to add a reprimand, though displeasure was evident in his voice. There would be a dressing down later on from her brother.

  Seconds later, the gangly young footman rounded the house from the servants’ entrance, hastily adjusting his hat as he ran. He skidded to a stop a respectful three paces from Amelia and bowed.

  “Apologies, my lady, for keeping you waiting.”

  Amelia suppressed a sigh and resumed her walk toward the street.

  “Lady Amelia, please allow me to carry your satchel for you.”

  She paused. The satchel wasn’t especially heavy, but it was large and awkward.

  “Thank you, Giles,” she said as she handed the bag to him. “But you must let me take it myself into the, er, establishment where we are going.”

  The young man frowned but nodded.

  Amelia led the way, plotting as she went. Though she usually took time to observe the changing of the seasons, today her mind focused on one thing: how to get rid of Giles. The young footman was relatively inexperienced, so it should be easy to dupe him.

  She took a circular route, hoping to lull her companion into thinking she was merely out for a stroll. Pausing at a popular milliner’s, she made a show of looking in the window then turned to the young footman.

  “I think I’ll go in here for a while. I need a new hat. I’ll take the satchel now. You may wait for me out here.”

  Giles bowed his acquiescence and handed the satchel to her. She hoped he wouldn’t question her need for a satchel in the milliner’s shop, and like a good servant, he didn’t. At least not aloud.

  She carried the satchel into the shop. Madame LeFevre, the proprietor, rose to greet her potential customer.

  “Bon jour, mademoiselle.”

  “Bon jour, Madame LeFevre. I wish to place an order for a hat. Er, something to go with my new winter cloak.”

  “Oui, mademoiselle. Ze new cloak, it is in your bag?”

  “My bag? Oh, no. I, er, forgot to bring it along. But it’s... blue.”

  “Blue is an excellent color for you, mademoiselle. What shade of blue?”

  “Ah, it’s… a deep blue. Rather like—” She cast a quick glance around the shop, and her eyes caught a bright, peacock blue felt hat. “That one.”

  Madame blinked, obviously swallowing her distaste. “Oui, mademoiselle. Ze entire cloak is that color?”

  “Perhaps I should return another day and bring the cloak with me. Forgive me for wasting your time this morning. I’ll just get going.” She strode toward the back of the shop.

  “Er, mademoiselle? Ze door is this way.”

  “Yes, but my next errand is on the street behind your shop. If you don’t mind, I’ll just use your side entrance to get there more quickly. Thank you for your time.” She scooted out the door, mindful of the lady’s stare. She probably wouldn’t be back, at least not this season. But she’d accomplished her goal and left Giles waiting at the front entrance. Hopefully by the time he realized her duplicity, she’d have her errand completed.

  The side entrance of the shop emptied on a quiet street. No traffic. Amelia cast a cautious look around before proceeding. She had an important errand, and nothing was to be gained by dawdling.

  With renewed purpose, she marched toward her destination. Making her way to the tiny, nondescript building, she found the person she sought in a dusty corner of his surgery, hunched over the papers on his desk.

  “Good morning, Doctor Jones.”

  Cecil Jones raised his balding head and studied her over the rim of his spectacles. “Good morning, Lady Amelia.” He tilted his head, attempting to look around her. “You did bring someone with you this time, didn’t you? This is not a good area for a lady such as you to travel alone.”

  “Oh, yes,” she reassured him. “My footman is waiting for me at the door.”

  She wasn’t actually lying, she told herself. Giles truly was waiting for her at the door. Just not at the door of the surgery.

  But her ruse seemed to work, and he pulled a large leather sack from his desk drawer. “It seems your stories are getting more and more popular,” he said as he handed the package to her. “Mr. Culpepper asked when the next manuscript would be coming. He says he can hardly keep up with the demand and has had to hire several additional staff in his print shop.”

  “Very soon, I expect,” Amelia replied. Her eyes widened at the weight of the package. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to remain in her brother’s home much longer. She removed several coins and held them out. “Here’s your fee, as agreed. I truly appreciate you representing me at Culpepper and Winston Publishing House.”

  The doctor hesitated, as if reluctant to take the money. “It’s my pleas
ure and honor to help you, Lady Amelia. And it’s really not necessary to pay me so much for simply being your courier.”

  “Nonsense. I am indebted to you. Without your help I would never be able to have my books published. At least, not as Amelia Partridge. Use it to buy medicines and bandages for the people who can’t pay you for your services.” When his eyes widened in surprise, she explained. “I have my sources. I admire what you do and wish to assist you.”

  The doctor finally nodded and accepted the money. “Thank you, Lady Amelia.”

  After putting the sack in Edward’s satchel, Amelia left the surgery and walked with a light step toward the millinery. Her mind whirled with the impact of the news Dr. Jones had given her. With this much income from writing, she could afford to live on her own. Edward had agreed to set her up in a small house on the outskirts of London with a minimal household staff, but she would need her own money.

  She could just imagine what would happen if her staid and proper brother heard of her secret career as a writer. Even though Edward was only two years her senior, he acted more like he was her father. Perhaps having had to take over the title at the tender age of twenty had soured him. Whatever the reason, he’d taken his duty seriously, and in turn he expected all in his household to behave properly. It was well known that not a hint of scandal had ever been associated with the House of Partridge. Now everyone — including Amelia — wondered why he had he aligned himself with a flamboyant and unpleasant woman like Colette.

  Lost in her thoughts, she gasped when a trio of street urchins surrounded her. Her hands instinctively lifted to her chest, and she clutched her reticule and satchel closely.

  The tallest one stepped forward with a cocky grin. “Beggin’ the lady’s pardon, but methinks ye might ’ave a spare coin ’r two in that little bag ’o yers. Ye wouldn’t want ter see the loiks of us starvin’ now, would ye?”

  Amelia schooled her features into a calm she didn’t feel. “Kindly let me pass, please.”

  The leader tipped his head back and howled. “As soon as ye ‘kindly’ give us yer coins, we’ll ‘kindly’ let ye pass.”

  “You boys will need to find a more honest method of getting your money,” she told them. “Otherwise I shall have to seek assistance from that constable over on the next corner.”

  The younger boys started to back away, but their leader was undeterred. “There’s no officer on the next corner. Yer jus’ tryin’ ter distract me so’s I look away and you kin scoot off.”

  Amelia searched her brain for a way to escape. Could she outrun them?

  “Leave the lady alone.”

  At the deep, masculine voice, the boys froze.

  Amelia breathed a sigh of relief. The duke! But the ringleader was undeterred. “And ’oo’re ye to threaten me, mister? It’s one a’ ye aginst three.”

  “On the contrary, there are two of us. And the lady was correct, there is a constable on the next street.”

  At the second male voice, the two younger urchins disappeared, and their leader found himself facing two men alone. The lad’s bravado faded but only for a moment. Raising his cap, he executed an exaggerated bow.

  “Beggin’ yer pardon, miss. I didn’t know ye were travelin’ under the gentleman’s protection. I’ll be off now.” He vanished into the shadows.

  Amelia let out the breath she’d been holding. She turned to thank her rescuers and stared into a pair of familiar blue eyes. Her lips curved into a rueful grin.

  “It seems you are forever coming to my aid, Your Grace.”

  Phillip’s attention was focused on the young hooligans, and he didn’t answer. When he finally turned to her, his expression was serious, and she expected a lecture about being in such a neighborhood.

  “Did they harm you in any way?”

  “No, Your Grace. Your arrival was quite timely. Please accept my deepest gratitude.”

  “It was nothing. My valet and I had just left my solicitor’s office. Allow us to escort you to… your destination.”

  “My footman is waiting at the milliner’s shop not two streets away.”

  Phillip frowned, but he offered his arm and they began the walk. “Why didn’t your servant accompany you here?”

  “I, er, also had business with my solicitor and did not wish to subject him to such drudgery.”

  “Nevertheless, he should have come with you, at least to the solicitor’s storefront.”

  “I shall certainly take your advice into consideration, Your Grace,” she demurred.

  How like a man to tell me what to do.

  Amelia had received several offers for her hand during her seasons, but she’d refused them all. Never would she give up her freedom and subject herself to a man’s power.

  Although Phillip — or rather, the Duke of Bartlett — was certainly a handsome man. And it was quite flattering the way he looked at her so intently as she spoke. It seemed he genuinely wanted to hear whatever she had to say. His rebuke hadn’t been harsh either, in light of the risk she had taken with her safety. Perhaps she should consider heeding his advice.

  Arriving at Madame LeFevre’s Millinery, they found Giles waiting patiently at the door.

  “Here you are, Lady Amelia. Safe and sound.” The duke paused before adding, “As much as I enjoyed our walk, I cringe at the memory of those ruffians accosting you. Please give me your word that if you should require the services of your solicitor again, you will not visit him unaccompanied. If your footman is not available, please call on me. It will be my pleasure to accompany you, or to see that one of my staff is available if I am not.”

  Amelia blinked and nodded. He bowed and then walked away, followed by his valet. It was only when she felt the coldness in her mouth that she realized she’d been gaping at him, quite at a loss for words.

  Chapter Five

  Amelia wore a drab brown dress, totally devoid of embellishment. She donned a pair of hard-soled, sensible shoes she’d scrubbed with dirt from the garden to remove their shine. Giles accompanied her, but he wore his own clothing rather than his servant’s livery. The people she planned to visit tonight loved their children and most were appreciative of her efforts, but they had a distrust of the nobility and the wealthy. So she did her best to downplay her social position and blend in with theirs.

  With Giles carrying her heavy satchel, Amelia slipped out a side door of Sudbury House and hurried to the street. Before proceeding further, she donned an old, mismatched scarf to hide her features in case any of her brother’s neighbors happened along. As a further precaution, she abandoned the straight-backed posture she’d perfected in finishing school and hunched forward as she walked.

  When they reached Saint Paul’s Cathedral, Giles stepped ahead of her to open the heavy wooden doors. Amelia nodded her thanks as she went inside. She continued on to a smaller chapel reserved for her use.

  A dozen eager youngsters greeted her as she entered. “Evenin’, Miss Partridge,” they chorused. She’d instructed them to use her family name rather than address her as Lady Amelia to gain the trust of their families.

  “Good evening, children. Are you ready to learn more letters tonight?”

  An eager affirmative filled the room.

  Amelia reached in her bag for her supplies — a handful of chalk, some slates, and an old wooden paddle with the letters of the alphabet and a prayer etched on it. Edward had teased her about keeping her old horn book, but it had proved handy for teaching the letters.

  The children sat quietly as she prepared for their lesson. They’d learned if they behaved themselves, they would be rewarded. Amelia noticed a few adults sitting quietly on the outside of the room. It seemed the parents were as eager to learn as much as the children, maybe even more.

  She cleared her throat so that her voice would project without seeming to shout. “All right, children. Let’s review the letters we learned last time.”

  For the next hour, Amelia took her students through a drill of learning their letters and then had
them read combinations of those letters. Then she distributed slates and chalk so the children could practice forming those letters. Beginning with the eldest, she worked with each child, patiently guiding their fingers around the chalk so they could write their first words: cat, bat, and hat.

  As she worked with the children, guiding their hands, encouraging them, reveling in their warmth, she wondered what her life would be like if she had accepted one of her offers of marriage and started a family of her own. She might now be sitting with her own children, guiding them through their lessons.

  When the last child had written the letters to her satisfaction, Amelia pulled a pile of napkins from her satchel and then a bulky packet that gave off the delicious aroma of cinnamon and oranges. Last of all, she removed a well-worn book.

  “Children, I brought along a book of my favorite stories to share. Would you like me to read one of them while you’re eating your treat?”

  The children, busy munching their treats, nodded in assent.

  “Well then, remember what we learned about eating politely.”

  Napkins were distributed and placed carefully over the children’s laps before she untied the bundle and handed each child a scone, waiting for and accepting polite thanks before going to the next child. She mentally cringed as the scones were immediately stuffed into their mouths and gobbled but schooled her features to maintain a pleasant smile. Manners could be taught a little at a time — right now it was enough that she was staving off the children’s hunger.

  Extra scones were offered to — and eagerly accepted by — the adults present. If word spread that she distributed food along with the lessons, there was certain to be more hungry people attending next time. Amelia made a note to tell Cook she needed twice as many scones for her next lesson.

  ~~~~

  Phillip watched from a spot just outside the archway into the chapel. He’d been on his way home after visiting his sister when he’d seen two dark figures leaving Sudbury House. Despite her disguise, he’d recognized Amelia when she’d paused to don her scarf. He’d wondered where she was going dressed in such a manner and couldn’t stop himself from following.