Amelia let out the breath she'd been holding. Wanting to thank her rescuers, she turned 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 returned his attention 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. Robert 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, she thought, to tell me what to do.
This was why she had refused to accept offers during her seasons. 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, considering 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." He 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 out 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 stepped 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 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 — paper, pens, and ink.
The children sat quietly as she prepared for their lesson. They'd learned if they behaved themselves, they would be rewarded. As Amelia worked, she noticed a few adults sitting quietly on the outside of the room. She rejoiced to see the parents appeared 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 the paper and writing utensils so the children could practice forming those letters. Beginning with the eldest, she worked with each child, patiently guiding their fingers around the pen 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 and 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's enthusiastic response warmed her heart. Hopefully, they would someday enjoy reading stories as well as hearing them.
"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. She made a mental note to bring more treats the next time. 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 treats for her next lesson.
****
Phillip watched the lesson 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.
His curiosity had increased when she'd slipped into a side door of St. Paul's Cathedral. Why ever would she dress so plainly for a visit to the church? Was she meeting someone?
Amelia had indeed been meeting someone. Nearly a dozen little someones. Now, he watched, entranced, as Amelia led the students through their lesson.
He started when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning, he saw Robert had brought him a chair. He nodded gratefully and sat in the dim hallway where he could continue his observation. Lady Amelia was a wonderful teacher. She kept her students engaged, encouraging them with a gentle smile or a pat on the shoulder. So unlike the stern taskmasters who had come to Bartlett Manor to teach him and his siblings. His knuckles still smarted from the many raps they'd received when his letters hadn't been formed properly!
She ended her lesson by reading aloud to the students while they ate treats she provided. There had been extras, enough for the hungry adults who had observed from the back of the room. She's made friends for life, he thought. Feeding their bodies as well as their minds.
This was a remarkable woman. While other women of the ton were primarily concerned with their looks, wardrobe or the latest gossip, Lady Amelia had a cause, a purpose. She was as unique as she was lovely. How proud he would be to have such a delightfu
l creature standing by his side. But his disfigurement would preclude that from happening. Even a kind-hearted woman like her would be repelled at the thought of him as a mate.
Phillip stood and beckoned for his valet. He waited while Robert returned the chair to where he had gotten it then stepped toward the door. Robert stopped him with a light touch on his sleeve, nodding to a point behind him. Turning, he saw Amelia walking toward them.
"Good evening, Your Grace. I trust our lesson didn't interfere with your evening prayers?" she asked as students and parents made their way past them.
"On the contrary, Lady Amelia. Observing your lesson was the highlight of my evening. You have some eager young pupils. How did you come to teach them?"
"I happened to be here when one of the priests was conducting a lesson. He was using ancient materials, text children didn't understand. And he was horrid to them! Smacking their little hands when they didn't form their letters correctly. I was appalled, and was ready to go to the Cathedral Council, but decided to speak to the instructor himself. The poor man was in over his head! He was a Latin scholar and had no idea what to do with small children who couldn't even name their letters. I volunteered to help and started teaching them the next day."
"How fortunate for them."
"Thank you. I do what I can," she responded, a becoming blush staining her cheeks. "It's not much, and we need more books and materials. And it would be wonderful if we had a place to meet that wasn't quite so dark. But for now the children are at least learning to read. I believe a little education will give them an opportunity for better jobs."
"I would be happy to assist you."
Her eyes opened wide. To be honest, his offer had surprised him as much as it had her, but the smile lighting her face made him glad he'd voiced it.
"That would be wonderful, Your Grace. I'm sure the boys would welcome a masculine figure such as you. So many of them don't have a father figure in their lives, you know."
"Er — I meant I'd be happy to sponsor your teaching. I have a great many books in my personal library, and it would be a privilege to supply the paper and pens."
"Oh! Thank you for that, Your Grace." She bowed her head and turned to gather her supplies, but as she packed her bag Phillip couldn't stop the feeling that he would soon be helping her with more than just the supplies.
Chapter Six
It was a brisk December afternoon, and a light snow during the night had put a freshness in the air. Now it was sunny, and Amelia decided it was too nice to stay indoors. Despite the cold, she donned her cloak and took one of her new books, settling on a bench in the private garden behind her brother's home.
She had just begun to read when a tiny fur ball dashed across her line of vision and scampered up into the wild pear tree growing next to her bench. It was Colette's newest kitten, Sophie. Of course, once the little thing got up in the tree, she didn't know what to do. Frightened, she howled for help
"Oh, you poor dear," Amelia crooned, setting down her book. "Let me help you." She climbed onto the bench and reached up toward the branch, but the kitten backed away from her and climbed higher.
"Come here, sweetheart. I won't hurt you," Amelia cajoled. Standing on tiptoe, she stretched her arm farther, but she still couldn't reach the kitten. Exasperated, she stepped up onto the lowest branch, but the kitten was still out of reach. Worse yet, the little creature kept backing farther away. Amelia took a tentative step along the branch, and then another…
And then found she couldn't move.
The lace of her petticoat had tangled in the gnarled branches of the tree, effectively pinning her in place. She couldn't move her legs to go either way.
"Lady Amelia Partridge? How ever did you get caught in that pear tree?"
"Are you all right, Lady Amelia?"
Startled, she turned her gaze downward. The Duke of Bartlett and his niece, Laurel, stood next to her bench, looking up at her. Amelia was torn between relief at being rescued and chagrin at being caught in such a predicament.
"Good day, Your Grace. Please excuse my lack of manners, but I seem unable to curtsey at this moment. Mademoiselle Colette's kitten climbed the tree and was unable to get down, so I came up here to rescue her. And yes, Laurel, I'm fine. I'm just…stuck, as well."
Laurel tugged at her uncle's arm until he looked down at her. "Uncle Phillip, you must help her get down."
Phillip nodded and stepped up onto the bench. His height allowed him to stand on the bench and easily reach the branch that had caught her skirts. Leaning against the trunk for balance, he reached a long arm out and carefully detached her skirts from the tree's grasp. As soon as she was free, she took a step down, but a pair of strong hands grasped her waist, and she found herself lifted off the branch and settled safely on the ground.
Amelia stammered her thanks, but Phillip climbed up into the tree and caught the kitten by the scruff of her neck. Holding Sophie carefully, he dropped lightly to the ground and offered the shivering kitten to her.
Amelia could barely meet her rescuer's gaze. Heat flooded her cheeks – was it from embarrassment, or was it excitement from the physical contact with the handsome duke?
"Thank you again, Your Grace. And I know my future sister-in-law will be most grateful to you for rescuing her Sophie."
Phillip bowed. "I assure you, it was my pleasure."
Before Amelia could frame a response, Laurel took Amelia's arm. "I'm so glad we found you at home today, Lady Amelia. I need to speak to you. I've talked to Uncle Phillip, but he says I need a woman's view, so I asked him to bring me here right away."
Amelia couldn't imagine what advice she could give the distraught young woman, but she invited her to sit on the bench with her. "How can I help, Laurel?"
The girl launched into her tale. "It's Mama! She wants me to have a season next year, and she has lots of plans for dresses and parties, but I don't need all that to find a husband. I don't want to marry anyone but Nicky!"
Laurel's anxiety tugged at her heart. She could sympathize with the girl's dilemma, having had wishes totally against those of her parents. Amelia's own mother, rest her soul, had cried endlessly at her only daughter's total lack of interest in the selection of eligible bachelors attending the balls during her season. A few of the gentlemen had even offered for her hand, but she simply couldn't muster the enthusiasm for any of them and had turned them down. "Why should I marry simply because a man asks?" she'd said when her mother had pressed.
But now, Amelia needed to choose her words wisely. The young girl gazing her hopeful eyes toward her was the daughter of her close friend, and probably as close to a daughter as she would ever have. Her wishes might be different from those Amelia had had as a young girl, but like hers, they were opposite what her parents wanted. Or so she thought.
"Have you explained how you feel to your mother, Laurel? Does she know the young man?"
"She knows him, but she thinks this is simply a schoolgirl whim and that I should see what real gentlemen are like. Oh, Lady Amelia, I don't need to see anyone else. No man would ever compare to my Nicky!"
She glanced at Phillip. "Nicky?"
The duke cleared his throat. "Nicholas Kentridge, second son of the Earl of Dunham."
Though his voice had revealed nothing, his dark expression told Amelia exactly what he thought of the young man. Knowing the boy's identity, Amelia had to agree. The earl was a rake, and according to rumor, his sons were cut from the same cloth. But the love-struck girl wouldn't want to hear that.
Amelia covered Laurel's hand with her own. "Does Nicky feel the same? Has he expressed a desire for the two of you to marry?"
"Well…no, but I'm certain he will. It just wouldn't be fair for me to encourage anyone else."
"You wouldn't have to encourage anyone during your season. But if you go along with your mother's plans, you can show Nicky exactly how lovely and suitable you are."
"Nicky's not interested in beauty." Laurel's eyes gleamed, and her posture stra
ightened as she spoke of her intended beau. "He told me he admires my intellect and my artistic talent." Amelia noticed Phillip turn his head away and guessed it was to hide the derision in his eyes. Thankfully, Laurel was too lost in her own thoughts to notice her uncle.
"Perhaps not, but it would be a shame to deny your mother the joy of seeing her daughter as the beautiful debutante you would be."
"But, Lady Amelia—"
"Hear me out. Even if your parents approve of — er, Nicky — you are not yet at the legal age of consent. Why not take a year and let your parents dote on you? I know you'll have a lovely time."
"But you didn't," Laurel protested. "I've heard you complaining about it to Mother."
Amelia pursed her lips. Her family had always chided her about her runaway mouth. Now, it could cause a problem for her friend.
She cleared her throat, hoping the inspiration would come. "Laurel, dear, I was wrong to protest against my mother. Had I simply gone along with her wishes, I would have made her happy, and she would have seen for herself how unsuitable the young men in my circle had been for me. It would have saved us both a lot of unpleasantness."
Laurel sighed. "So you think I should just let Mother have her way and make me spend an entire season being nice to mere boys in whom I have absolutely no interest?"
"Mmm, there are some good things to consider."
"What would those be?"
"Well, as a debutante, you will be presented at court. That's quite exciting."
Laurel's face brightened. "Oh, yes. I'd forgotten about that."
"And you'll have a beautiful new wardrobe."
"Well, that would be nice, but Nicky says I'm beautiful even without the fancy clothes."
"That's quite…gallant of him. But think how much more beautiful you'll be in a lovely new wardrobe. He'll probably be invited to attend many of the same events as you, and then he'll be able to see how lucky he is to have your affection. Besides, the season is only a few months. If you don't do it, you'll disappoint your mother, and you may regret it later. If you go through with your season and make her happy, you'll also have some wonderful tales to share with your own daughter someday."
Partridge and the Peartree Page 3