Amelia fumed. How dare they? Cooing to him and touching him. Her irritation cooled, however, when she remembered trying to seduce him herself so very recently. Wearing a tight, low-cut gown and pressing her lips to his. But I had a strong reason for doing so. I don’t want to marry Lord Griffith! She shuddered.
“Pardon?”
Did I say it out loud? “Hmmm?”
“You said something about Lord Griffith.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, but I didn’t quite catch what. Speaking of, you’d said earlier that I’d saved you from your visit with him. Care to elaborate for the man who took you from such unspeakable horror?”
Amelia bit her lip against a smile. “Let’s just say I will be forever in your debt.”
“Sounds like something I can perhaps use to my advantage later.”
Her gaze flew to his. Was he flirting with her?
He turned his head away and then grinned. Amelia, curious, followed his gaze. A pretty girl dressed as a commoner walked toward them on the arm of… Amelia squinted. Was that the surgeon-dentist? How odd they should see him when they’d told Lord Griffith that would be their destination.
When they neared the others, Conrad slowed. What was he doing? Yes, he’d been to see the man in an official capacity, but surely in public he wouldn’t speak to—
Conrad stopped in front of them. Amelia wasn’t sure what to do. Others crowded past them, and she was aware of more than a few stares from her contemporaries.
“Mr. Fletcher, Miss Fletcher, how pleasant to see you.”
What is Conrad about?
The girl curtseyed and the man nodded. “Good day to you, Lord Lofton.”
Amelia knew it was expected of her to request an introduction, though she had no desire. She tapped Conrad’s arm. “Would you be so kind as to introduce your… acquaintances, Lord Lofton?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, as if inordinately pleased. “It would be my pleasure. Miss Talbot, may I present Mr. Fletcher and Miss Fletcher?”
Amelia gave a single nod. “Charmed.” The falsehood slid easily from her lips.
The girl curtseyed again. Mr. Fletcher nodded and smiled.
The following few minutes of discussing the weather with the Fletchers nearly did Amelia in. What would people think?
Chapter Seventeen
Annie stood in Amelia’s doorway. Frowning. But what was new?
“Yes? How may I be of service to you, Annie?” Amelia had quite enough of Annie’s attitude and derision. If the other servants weren’t so decrepit, she’d take one of them as a chaperone instead. At least they were pleasant.
Although, she might have to carry them on her back to get them from the house to the carriage. No, that wouldn’t work.
“Lord Lofton is here to see you. I passed Gordon on the stairs as he was on his way to tell you.”
In spite of Annie’s sour disposition, Amelia smiled. Conrad had said he’d had an errand to run today, so she hadn’t been assured of seeing him. Now her day would be brighter since he was there. “Thank you, Annie.”
With her nose stuck in the air, her maid flounced away.
Why am I saddled with her?
A quick glance in the looking glass assured Amelia that she looked presentable. Her hair was a little mussed but she had no desire to ask Annie to return and help her. With a spring in her step, Amelia hurried down to the parlor.
And there he was. A thrill shot through her and her hands tingled. Warmth filled her core at the thought of being near him. Would she always feel like that when he was close by?
He smiled and took a step toward her. His attire, as always, was spotless. “Good day, Amelia.”
“Good day, Conrad.” She glanced behind her. Where was Annie? They weren’t supposed to be unchaperoned. Amelia turned to face the doorway. “Let me get Annie.”
“No need.”
She turned back. “Pardon?”
“Remember, I told you I had an errand?”
“Yes.”
“I have a surprise for you. I think you will greatly approve.”
She clasped her hands together in front of her skirt. “A surprise? For me?” What could it possibly be? So his errand had something to do with her. A wave of gratitude washed over her. How sweet of him to think of getting her a small token of some sort.
“Please wait here. I’ll return in a moment.”
The front door opened and closed.
The token was large enough that he couldn’t have carried it in his pocket? Perhaps it was more than she’d originally thought. They were betrothed, though, so it wouldn’t be all that improper for him to get her a larger gift. Amelia paced the floor of the parlor, the floor squeaking every time she stepped near the far corner. Conrad was gone for a few minutes before the door once again opened.
Voices came from the hallway.
Voices?
Two sets of boots approached. What was going on? Did the gift require more than one person to carry it?
Conrad appeared in the doorway. “Amelia, I believe you remember meeting Miss Fletcher?”
And there beside Conrad stood that girl. The pretty young daughter of the surgeon-dentist. Here? In my house? She blinked, unable to comprehend why Conrad would bring the girl there.
He’d seemed so inordinately pleased when they’d happened across them on Rotten Row. It had made no sense that he would go out of his way to spend time, in public, with someone of a different class. The only time Amelia communicated with Annie on outings was when they exchanged frowns and snarls.
It was very unlikely that Cecilia was his relation, either. Not with her father’s occupation and Conrad’s title and wealth. No, there had to be another explanation for why Conrad and that girl were in company. Amelia didn’t think she would like the answer.
Cecilia stepped forward and curtseyed. Yet Amelia could not form words. Was her betrothed trying to send her some sort of message? That this girl was his…? Oh no… no it couldn’t be. Amelia bit her lower lip. Was the attractive little blonde his… courtesan?
Surely he wouldn’t be the type to do that, would he? He’d said that women didn’t usually give him much notice. But then, it was a fairly common practice among their set to have affairs.
Kept woman.
Light skirts.
She swallowed against nausea that threatened to make a very untimely appearance. Her stomach protested the light breakfast she’d had not so long ago.
Conrad’s brow was lowered and the corners of his mouth were turned down. “Amelia? You’ve gone pale.” He assisted her to the nearest chair and lowered her to sit. Then he kneeled down in front of her, his blue eyes wide and unblinking. He removed his hat and placed it on the floor to his right.
Why? Why did this have to happen to her? That he would have a courtesan and bring her to Amelia’s house. She knew, of course, that Conrad wouldn’t love her at first because of the blackmail, but she’d had it set in her mind that she would soon show him that in spite of her many flaws, she could make him a good wife. That she could make him happy. Would love him.
Now, though… Now there would be no chance. Not with that girl around. How would Amelia stand a chance, considering how she’d gotten Conrad in the first place, compared to a pretty, young blonde of whom Conrad seemed so fond?
Cecilia took a step into the parlor and wrung her hands. Her voice was soft and low. So low that Amelia strained to hear. “Lord Lofton, perhaps I should wait in the…” She pointed behind her to the doorway.
Yes, go… Go far away from here and never return.
Conrad turned his head toward the girl. “No, it’s fine. Perhaps if you would sit across the room while I tend to Miss Talbot.”
Miss Talbot? What happened to Amelia?
Conrad stayed in his kneeling position but moved closer and took one of Amelia’s hands. “Are you ill? Can I have the maid or butler bring you something?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice to come out as more than
a squeak.
He squeezed her hand. “Amelia, you have me concerned. What can I do to help?”
Amelia darted a glance at Cecilia, who now sat in the corner, having lost most of the color from her own face. “N-nothing.”
“Surely there is something? Please, tell me.”
Conrad looked genuinely upset. Why would he care about her health if he had no concern about their future marital happiness? Amelia lowered her voice so that it was just a whisper. Conrad leaned close, his blue-eyed gaze locked on hers, and waited.
“Perhaps…” She looked again at Cecilia and then back to Conrad. “Perhaps you could explain to me why… why you’ve brought her… here?”
He blinked. “As I’d told you when I first arrived, it was a surprise. For you.”
She was surprised, that was true. What he’d brought came in a pretty package, but it wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Or wanted.
“I know you and Annie don’t get along. And I hated how distressed you were when you required her to chaperone.”
And you believe this isn’t distressing? She tightened her other hand into a fist. Longing to strike someone, though she knew she wouldn’t actually do it.
“I… I thought perhaps if Cecilia could be a companion. To you. That… that it might make it easier for you.”
“But she’s… I don’t know her. Why would you…?”
“That’s why I’ve brought her here today. So you could become better acquainted. She really is very sweet.”
Amelia gritted her teeth. Her voice emerged as a whisper so even she could barely hear it. “But, how do you… know her?” What her heart longed to say was, “What is she to you? Is she more important than I am? Do you love her?”
He swallowed. His cravat moved with the effort. “I…”
So it was true, then? Amelia’s heart sank. “But…”
Conrad took her other hand in his, as well. “Amelia, it’s nothing… inappropriate, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
But what else could it be? If not his mistress, then… “So, she’s perhaps your… relation?”
He bit his lip. “Please, just trust me when I tell you that there’s a very good explanation for my knowing her.”
“And that would be…”
A deep sigh seemed to come from deep within. “Can you not simply trust me that I have your best interest, everyone’s, at heart?”
Oh how she wanted to. How she longed not to worry that something bad was going on that would ruin their chance for happiness. That there really might be a chance for a future loving marriage with Conrad. But what choice did she have? It was either believe the worst, or trust the man she was coming to love.
I choose Conrad.
She nodded.
A smile as bright as the sun appeared on his lips. “Wonderful. I’ll… someday I… hope to tell you the full story.” He tilted his head. “Are you feeling better? You’ve regained a little color.”
Amelia gave him another nod.
Conrad stood and turned. “Cecilia, come and sit with us, won’t you?”
As Cecilia approached, Amelia watched her carefully. No glint could be detected in her eye as if she were the victor. No haughty movement in her steps or toss of her head, as if she was the better woman for having stolen an earl’s heart away from a member of the elite. No, in fact her gaze was down, her hands clasped tightly around her worn reticule, as if she were hesitant to sit next to Amelia. Her hands trembled, ever so slightly.
Could she even be… frightened?
Of me?
Of course of you, Amelia. How would you feel if you were in her position and someone glared and frowned at you? If you were poor and someone of the elite class looked down on you, on everything about you?
Conrad stood and waited for Cecilia to be seated next to Amelia, and then he sat down in a chair facing them.
In the back of Amelia’s mind, she still entertained doubts about who Cecilia was to Conrad. Would she always wonder, or would he one day tell her the truth? But her heart wanted so desperately to trust him, to believe him when he’d said his relationship with the girl was nothing inappropriate. Because if she didn’t trust him now, what chance would they ever have for the future?
The three of them sat. And were silent. Amelia squirmed. Was she supposed to say something? Do something?
Conrad leaned forward. “Amelia, I thought perhaps you and Cecilia could mutually benefit from forming a friendship.”
Friendship?
He addressed Cecilia. “You see, Amelia’s maid is normally her chaperone on outings. But they don’t always…” Conrad looked back to Amelia.
She shrugged. If she was to have some sort of friendship with the younger woman, may as well start now. “What he’s trying to say is that she and I don’t always… see eye to eye.”
Cecilia nodded, small wisps of hair bouncing around her face.
Conrad held out a hand, palm up. “And I thought that perhaps, if you both were willing, Cecilia might become someone who could accompany us on our outings.” He raised his eyebrows and looked from one to the other.
With a smile, Cecilia nodded again. “I would very much like that… that is, if Miss Talbot would be agreeable.”
Cecilia did indeed seem genuine and sweet. It didn’t seem likely that her innocent demeanor was false. Perhaps it really was as Conrad had said. That there wasn’t anything inappropriate between them.
But I’m still dying to know what their relationship is…
“I… think that would be quite acceptable, Miss Fletcher.”
Her blue eyes widened. “Please call me Cecilia.”
“And you may call me Amelia.” Did I just utter those words? But a quick look at Conrad assured her it was the right thing to have said. He smiled so wide that dimples formed on his cheeks. I’ve never noticed those before now. But then, she’d never seen him smile so wide until that moment.
It indeed must mean a great deal to him for she and I to become friends.
Then friends we shall be.
Amelia smiled back at Conrad and then reached forward and took Cecilia’s hand in hers.
Chapter Eighteen
Conrad called on the Fletchers at their modest home that was directly behind Mr. Fletcher’s place of business. The small, wooden structure could nearly have fit in Conrad’s bedroom. The exterior was badly in need of repair and the roof sagged slightly on one side.
If Mother had married Andrew, this might have been my home. He stepped up the short walk and knocked on the door.
It was opened by Cecilia. “Good day, Lord Lofton.”
Conrad startled, unused to the occupant of a house answering her own door. “Good day, Miss Fletcher.” He chased away his surprise and smiled.
“Won’t you come in?” She stepped aside, but her face colored pink. Was she perhaps embarrassed to have Conrad see how they lived?
“Thank you.” He stepped inside and removed his hat. With no butler to take it, he simply held it pressed against his thigh.
A warm fire crackled across the small room, making it very warm. That was one benefit, he supposed to not living in a drafty estate with so much area to heat. Worn rugs were scattered about the floor and three chairs were pulled close to the fire. Is that where they spend their evenings?
He grimaced. Where else would they spend them? It wasn’t as if they had a large space in which to roam about.
“I’m nearly ready. Let me fetch my hat and pelisse.” She walked across the room to a door tucked up next to the far side of the fireplace that Conrad hadn’t noticed until then. Would that be the bedrooms?
“That’s fine. No rush.” Conrad tried to picture growing up in that house. Sharing the tiny space with Andrew and Cecilia.
What of Mrs. Fletcher? There’d been no mention of her. Was she—?
Cecilia opened the door and stepped back into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. “We mustn’t make much noise. Mama is having one of her bad days, unfor
tunately. Her illness doesn’t give her many good days.”
Mama. Something cold snaked up Conrad’s spine. So Andrew was still married. And not to Conrad’s mother.
We should be together. A family.
“I’m ready.” Cecilia adjusted her hat.
Conrad’s gaze drifted to Cecilia. It was as Andrew had said at Hyde Park. If he hadn’t married Mrs. Fletcher, he wouldn’t have a daughter.
And I wouldn’t have a sister.
Don’t forget that Mother was the one who abandoned Andrew, not the other way around.
Cecilia peered up at him with light blue eyes, the exact shade of his own. He smiled. “Yes, let’s go and see Amelia.”
They walked out to Conrad’s carriage where the groom assisted Cecilia up. After Conrad climbed in and sat down, the groom climbed in as well. Conrad wanted no nasty rumors to start if someone happened to see him alone with Cecilia. He couldn’t very well tell people that she was his sister unless he wanted to risk losing his home and income. Still, a part of him wished he could claim her as family.
Wouldn’t Mother love that?
Cecilia watched the scenery pass by from the window nearest her. She turned her head and smiled. “What shall your outing be today, Lord Lofton?”
Conrad lifted his shoulders. “We’re to attempt a game of Pall Mall.”
“Oh? I’ve heard it said that it’s great fun, although I’ve never played.”
“Neither have I.”
“You haven’t? I would have thought that you—”
“There are countless things I’ve never done that my peers have experienced many times over.”
She didn’t ask why, but kept her gaze on him.
“The way I was raised…” He looked at the groom whose eyelids were floating shut. Surely he wasn’t even listening to their conversation. Still, best not speak in great detail of private matters within hearing distance of someone else’s ears. “I was raised in a strict environment and wasn’t often allowed to do certain things.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Indeed. One of many.”
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