The Duke’s Daughter - Lady Amelia Atherton: A Regency Romance Novel (Heart of a Gentleman Book 3)

by Isabella Thorne

  “Breakfast will be served shortly,” he said. “Will you walk with me?”

  “Certainly.” She stood smoothing her dress.

  “I have ordered tea in the garden while we wait to break our fast,” he said. “The morning is still and clear, if a bit brisk.”

  “Is that the sort of morning you enjoy on your ship?” she asked.

  “I do,” he said as they sat in the garden and watched the huge golden sun hover just above the horizon. It was a day that promised warmth and sun, but the morning was still cool.

  Amelia sipped her tea. It was prepared as she liked it with a bit of honey and lots of cream and the warmth of it filled her. She closed her eyes in appreciation, and when she opened her eyes, Samuel was smiling at her. It was a disconcerting feeling. He was her fiancé now. Why did she feel so tongue-tied, when she had never had that problem before? She shook off the lethargy and asked when they would be returning to London. They finished their tea and then walked around the immaculate garden as they talked.

  Samuel convinced Amelia that she, Patience and Aunt Ebba should return to the country house and pack for London properly. Although she wanted to hurry, she knew he was right when he said that haste would be foolhardy.

  “In making plans for our London excursion,” Samuel said. “It occurred to me that undo haste would call attention to us and foster gossip. Better for you ladies to finish your visit, leave here as planned, then all of you back to your country house and on to London after a few days respite. This will give us time to prepare, and you can pack for London at your leisure. Deportment will stop the gossip.”

  “Nothing will stop the gossip,” Amelia said. “However, I will write the announcement to the Times…” She hesitated. “Oh, no,” she said. “You would have to first ask my father…” the wrenching pain that passed through her at the memory of his death caused her to catch her breath. “… my uncle, I mean” Amelia whispered. Her face turned pale as ice. She sank down on a garden bench. “This will not do.”

  “So we can’t let London know via the Times?” Samuel asked. “The whole point of this…engagement is to let London know so that you will have some freedom of movement.”

  Amelia was silent, tapping a slippered foot on the garden walk. “But London does not need to know via the Times,” Amelia said thoughtfully. “I will write to Charity…no. She is vexed with me. I will have Patience write to Charity and tell her that you have asked me to marry, and plan to call upon The Duke when you come into London to ask his leave. Then the news of our imminent engagement will precede us.”

  “Surely this will not be as efficient as the Times,” Samuel said.

  “Oh, Samuel,” she said pityingly. “You know nothing of gossip. Charity will be much more effective.”

  By now, the house was stirring and the smell of cooking sausages invaded the garden walk. Samuel tucked Amelia’s hand on his arm and she allowed him to escort her to breakfast with the others.

  ~.~

  The remainder of the week flew by, Amelia and Samuel catching moments here and there, but he did not kiss her again. She found herself feeling the loss. Patience and Percival, on the other hand, had been seen strolling hand in hand in the garden several times, and once Patience’s bonnet was slightly askew when she returned from a walk. Aunt Ebba was beaming and planning both of their weddings with opulent enthusiasm. Amelia felt disgraceful to be deceiving her. She caught Samuel’s eye on her then, and looked pointedly away.

  Still Amelia found herself relaxing, she enjoyed mornings in the music room with Samuel and her piano and evenings with Samuel and his brother, at first she had thought Lord Beresford somewhat diffident, but apparently his unwillingness to engage in conversation had just been a response of his illness. She had now found that Percival had a wry wit, and was a perfect foil for his brash brother. She laughed at their antics and envied their comradery, especially now that she had no parents as well as no siblings. When she bemoaned the lack to her friend, Patience had comforted her saying, “You have a sister in me.”

  “And of course, I am your brother,” Percival had added.

  Patience looked up sharply then, and Percival added in explanation, “As Lady Amelia is marrying my brother.”

  For just a moment Patience looked glum but then, a little quirk in Percival’s smile had her smiling again.

  ~.~

  The sun rose brightly and birds were singing on the morning the three women were to leave Stanherd Residence for Amelia’s own country home. Or rather her Uncle Declan’s now, Amelia thought with a scowl. It was a perfect day for travel and although she felt some sadness at her departure, Amelia was excited to finally be able to pursue answers regarding her father’s death. It was clear, however, that Samuel was going to do his best to keep her inquiries at bay. She smiled. He did not know her well. She was used to getting her own way, and did not intend to cease now.

  At breakfast they spoke of the possible events in London which Percival and Patience might attend. Aunt Ebba spoke to Amelia about announcing the wedding while still in mourning and sending a letter to her uncle in London in advance of their arrival when Samuel entered with the statement that he had directed the servants to load the carriage and all should be ready to go after breakfast.

  Patience and Amelia shared a look over their teacups.

  “What is it?” Samuel asked.

  “Aunt Ebba likes to attend the packing,” Patience said.

  “I do not like it,” Aunt Ebba said. “But it is a necessary burden I must bear.”

  After breakfast, the carriage was prepared in accordance with Aunt Ebba’s overwhelming need to control every piece of luggage, so much so that Amelia knew if her aunt had been a man, she would have just dismissed the servants and shouldered their trunks into the carriage herself.

  Percival and Patience had fled to the garden.

  Once everything had been wedged, pushed and pulled into its proper place, Aunt Ebba turned to Samuel, “I do hope it is no trouble to escort us home,” she said, as if that would make any difference at all, now that the carriage was full to the hilt.

  “Of course not,” Samuel said helping the ladies into the carriage. “It is my pleasure.”

  Conversation in the carriage was of Amelia and Samuel’s upcoming nuptials. Aunt Ebba had begun devising the guest list of her side of the family and even had a long list from Amelia’s father’s side. “Of course, your uncle will give you away,” she said.

  Amelia shuddered at the thought.

  “When you speak to him, Commander Beresford, to ask for her hand, do be on your best behavior.” Aunt Ebba smoothed her gloves as she spoke. “He has little sense of humor and can be a tedious man, but he is, nonetheless, The Duke now.

  Amelia frowned at her Aunt. “Do not glower so,” she said to her niece and addressed her along with Samuel. “If the duke gets it in his mind that you have somehow wronged him, he could vex you past bearing.

  Why would he think we wronged him?” Amelia asked.

  Aunt Ebba waved a gloved hand. “He is simply, not the most obliging of men. He tends to find fault where there is none.” Both Amelia and Samuel were largely silent on the topic then, answering only direct inquiries, while Patience punctuated Aunt Ebba’s long expositions on the topic of weddings in general, and theirs specifically.

  “With you in mourning,” Aunt Ebba said, “We will have to wait at least until Christmas, or just after, and the weather is likely to be poor as we get into January. Even then, you will be out of black, but will not have a true choice of colors, nor design, Amelia. I’m thinking spring. What are your thoughts? Commander?”

  They answered together.

  “Wait until spring,” Amelia said.

  “I like Christmas,” Samuel said.

  They looked at one another tongue-tied and then Amelia looked at her hands, fiddling with her gloved fingers. Samuel looked out the window.

  Both felt they could not get to Amelia’s home soon enough, but Percival and Patienc
e picked up the conversation with discussions of what flowers were already in bloom and what she might plant in her garden and what would grow best in London.

  Amelia had not known of Lord Beresford’s interest in gardening, or even in Samuel’s occasional addition to the conversation. Their mother was quite the gardener, and had kept her sons busy with growing things when the boys were youngsters. She was gifted with a mental picture of little boys side by side digging in the dirt and pulling weeds. If young Samuel brushed his hair back as he was so often want to do, he no doubt would have had a streak of dirt from his nose to his ear. Considering the tall naval man in front of her today, thinking of him tending flowers as a boy gave her a warm feeling and she smiled in spite of herself. Little surprises like that made her realize how little she really knew about him. Still the talk of gardening was a welcome distraction from wedding plans that would never come to pass. She had not expected this lie to be so hard; it seemed every other word was a deception

  ~.~

  They arrived in the early evening and had dinner with her uncle’s people serving. She remembered then that he had replaced the estate’s servants. There was not a familiar face among them and Amelia immediately felt less at home than she had at the Beresford’s.

  “Why don’t you play the piano for us,” Samuel had suggested after dinner. “Have you finished the piece you are working on?”

  “No,” she said blushing, embarrassed that her ode to the sea had originally been inspired by him.

  “Well. No matter. I love hearing you play,” he said, which drew a knowing smile shared between Patience and Percival. The little party gathered their drinks and removed to the music room, where Amelia found her piano. She stared at it unwilling to believe what she was seeing.

  She felt bereft. Her piano was covered with a great canvas clothe, and when she asked a footman to remove it, he had told her that The Duke had ordered it so.

  Amelia just stared at him, about ready to cry. “But I wish to play my piano,” Amelia said.

  “Pardon M’lady,” the footman had said. “But the piano is The Duke’s and he has ordered it prepared for storage, or perhaps sale. I am not privy to his plans.”

  “Sale!” Amelia thought she would be sick. This was her piano, the one she learned on, it was older than the tall cabinet one her father had bought for her back in the London house. It was at this piano she had first put her fingers to the keys, when her young hands had been too small reach all the notes and her feet dangled off the bench, too short to reach floor. She couldn’t breathe. This could not be happening. Her fingers itched to play, or hit something. She wanted to scream.

  “Amelia,” Aunt Ebba had soothed. “Amelia, it’s alright.”

  “No. It’s not,” she said tears brimming.

  Samuel pushed past the footman and moved to remove the heavy canvas, but the footman stopped him. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, “Please, won’t you go back to the drawing room?”

  “No, dammit,” Samuel said and there was a tense moment when Amelia thought that Samuel might actually hit the footman, but Percival interrupted.

  “We will return to the drawing you,” he said to the footman.

  Patience, always believing the best of everyone said, “Perhaps your uncle will give you the piano for a wedding present. You don’t know….”

  He is a horrid man, Amelia thought. I hate him. How could he possibly be my father’s brother? How could my father die, and this man still live?

  “Just because it is covered does not mean it is gone.” Aunt Ebba said. “In any case, we are for London soon, and there is your marriage to look forward to….”

  Amelia nearly burst into tears. Her upcoming wedding was a sham. Her father was gone, and she had been banished to the country at the whim of her horrid uncle. Now he would take her music as well. She clenched her hands into fists. She would not cry. She would see this despicable man made low for what he had done. She would, but first, she had to get control of herself. “Excuse me,” she said softly. She got to her feet and hurried from the room.

  Amelia had gone to her father’s study then, with Aunt Ebba following murmuring apologies to their guests and condolences to her niece. Amelia thought she would just sit and try to regain her self-possession where she felt most close to her father. The room still held his scent; it would settle her. She hoped it could give her just a moment of peace where she could remember her father as he once was and regain her composure.

  Again the footman followed. This time he caught her at the door and said, “I’m sorry, Lady Atherton. The Duke has ordered several rooms off limits. This is one of them.”

  “Now, see here,” Samuel began to berate the man at her elbow, and she took the opportunity to push past them both and open the door.

  When Amelia looked into the study, she stopped in shock. Everything had been moved. Her father’s life and hers packed up in crates and boxes. Her eyes flew to the desk where she had found the mysterious cypher book. It was ransacked; every drawer emptied. In her mute astonishment a single dreadful thought broke through her clouded mind: her uncle had searched for the book. She couldn’t breathe. She felt suddenly dizzy, the room spinning. And for the first time in her life, Amelia fainted.

  ~.~

  Chapter Three

  Amelia awoke in her bed. She wondered if it was the same foot man who had carried her there. Surely not. Perhaps Samuel had carried her, and she did not even know it. That thought brought a blush to her skin and a smile to her lips. She suddenly wanted to see him, to hear his voice talk about their plans…then she remembered their plans were all a pretense. But still, she told herself, it would be good to be busy. She must do something.

  At breakfast, Samuel and Percy spoke briefly of the London plans and when Samuel asked if she was feeling well, indicating her fainting spell last night, Amelia discretely noted with her eyes that all of the servants were of course, her uncle’s. Gone was the comfort of her childhood home, replaced with a wary disquiet. The sooner she could leave this house the better.

  Samuel grimaced understanding her instantly. “My brother and I can return to Standherd and be back on the morrow to escort you to London,” He said tightly.

  “Oh, goodness, we cannot be repacked for Town so quickly,” Aunt Ebba replied.

  “When would you like us to return?” Percival asked.

  “In other words, how quickly might you be able?” Patience explained to Aunt Ebba.

  “Oh, at least a week,” Aunt Ebba said.

  “I will help Auntie,” Amelia said. “We can be ready in two days.”

  “Four,” Aunt Ebba countered.

  “Auntie, your trucks are packed,” Amelia pointed out.

  “And yours are not,” Aunt Ebba said. “Do you want to move to London or do you want to have to come back for more of your belongings in the next few weeks. It is clear to me that your uncle doesn’t want you here.”

  Amelia bit her lip. “I have nowhere else to go.”

  “Nonsense,” Aunt Ebba said. “You are coming to London with me, and soon enough you will have your own house.” She sent a big smile Samuel’s way and patted Amelia’s hand.

  “You are always welcome at my home, Amelia,” Patience said. “Father would not mind an extended visit and my mother would love to see you again.”

  “Lady Amelia,” Percival said. “My father recently gave my brother and me an apartment in London to use while he was at Lords. It is at your disposal while you are in Town. After all it belongs to my brother as well as to me.”

  “I will make my own way,” Samuel said tightly to Percival, “But Amelia and I should indeed search for a townhouse while we are in London.”

  “Samuel,” Percy began, but Samuel interrupted him, turning to the women. “It’s decided then; we will return four days hence.

  ~.~

  Outside in the morning, while the brothers were taking their leave, Amelia and Samuel had only a brief moment to talk and even then they were cautious of the se
rvants. “I am so glad I left the cypher book at Standherd with you.” Amelia told him. “I’m afraid of my uncle; I know he is involved now. Did you see my father’s study?”

  “I saw it, but what about it upset you so?” Samuel asked.

  “It was searched,” Amelia said. “He or his servants were looking for the book.”

  “You can’t know that,” Samuel began trying to soothe her, but she gave him an incredulous look. “Do you think me a ninny?”

  “No, of course not, I think you are probably right, but nothing can come of worrying. We will solve this mystery together.” Samuel said as he caught her hand. But you won’t be here, she thought. She wished she was not wearing gloves. She wanted to feel the skin of him. She wanted him to kiss her again, but of course he did not. There was no privacy in her uncle’s home.

  She grasped his other hand and leaned close. It was terribly forward, but they were engaged and she didn’t want him to go. “Samuel, he knows,” she whispered.

  He gripped her hands tightly. “He cannot know. He can only suspect, and he is not here. He is in London.”

  “But if he is the one…we announced our engagement. London will know by now, and if he wanted to keep your brother and my father apart…” she took a shaky breath. “We have just told him we are together.”

  Samuel embraced her, ignoring the scandalized looks of uncle’s servants. He kissed her forehead and whispered against it. “Four days. I will return for you in four days.”

  She watched as Samuel and Percival rode away, feeling more bereft by the minute. She stood, eyes surveying Samuel’s retreating form and did not turn to go back inside the manse until the brothers were well out of sight.

  ~.~

  The next few days were a flurry of unpacking and repacking. Aunt Ebba was in a state. Amelia did not know she had so much to move. Each day she tried to spend just a few minutes in the music room. The piano was covered with canvas, but she could sit in her father’s chair and remember him. It calmed her a bit. At least the furniture had not been moved. The footman who had been so insolent before was quite helpful with her packing, and Amelia was glad she no longer had the book with her. The footman let her sit in the music room and let her take her tea there. She wondered if her belongings were being searched while she rested here, but it didn’t matter. She no longer had anything to find. She used the time to say good bye to her father, and promise him that she would find out the truth.