The Artful Match

by Jennifer Delamere

  Henry stared at his brother. This was the first time Langham had shown any inclination to spend time with Amelia. Should he encourage that, knowing Langham was her father? More likely he ought to take the safer route. Langham’s bad habits and other problems would set a terrible example. Amelia needed to be inspired to do better, not worse. Henry had to admit the outing would stave off any problems that might arise if the child was forced to remain in the house all day with the servants, but he wasn’t willing to let her go off with his irresponsible brother and a woman he barely knew.

  On the other hand, perhaps he should find out more about this Cara Bernay. She had proven she could curb Amelia’s tantrums, and she seemed to have taken a genuine interest in the child.

  “No,” he said. “I’m coming with you.”

  He was doing this for Amelia’s sake, nothing more. There was no other reason he should set aside important tasks to traipse around London with his ward, or even with his brother, who he supposed ought to be spending that time painting.

  Nor would he otherwise spend an afternoon in the company of this woman, even if he were intrigued by her eclectic traits. The alluring Greek goddess had shown she also possessed down-to-earth, almost motherly qualities. Henry needed to focus on that latter point—even if her warm blue eyes and her lovely full mouth, now smiling with satisfaction, tempted him to do otherwise.

  CHAPTER

  13

  HOW DID AMELIA come to be Henry’s ward?” Cara asked as Langham accompanied her home that night.

  “She is an orphan from another branch of the family, so she refers to us as Cousin Henry and Cousin Langham. Her family once had a large estate in Ireland, but that was lost. After her parents died, we took her in, as we were her closest living relatives.” He shrugged. “That’s the official story, anyway.”

  “You look as though you don’t believe it.”

  “I hadn’t heard anything about that branch of the family even existing before Amelia showed up. That doesn’t mean they didn’t. My father was dead by then, so I couldn’t ask him about it. But I have another, more scandalous theory. One that involves Henry.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “Henry, in a scandal?”

  “It does seem hard to believe at first. But no man is entirely impervious to temptation. A year or so before Amelia was born, Henry fell in love.”

  “Oh!” Cara said in surprise. “What sort of lady was she?”

  “She was the daughter of a man who owned a prosperous company in Shropshire that makes cast-iron products. Stoves, radiators, that sort of thing. She was the sister of Henry’s best friend at university. One summer Henry visited him, and that’s where he met her. According to his friend, it was love at first sight for both of them.”

  “She was the daughter of a cast-iron merchant?” Cara found it hard to believe that Henry, as proper as he was, had set his heart on the humble daughter of a manufacturer.

  “Yes, and not only that, she was helping her father run the company!”

  “So what happened? Were they not allowed to marry?”

  “I see you understand how the match might be frowned upon. I don’t believe they ever became engaged in any official sense. I was sixteen at the time, and my brother never confided in me about personal matters. I certainly couldn’t get my parents to give me details about what happened. All I know is, a few months after they met, she went to the Continent with a wealthy aunt to tour France and Germany. She never came home.”

  “What?” Cara exclaimed.

  “She died of a fever while they were in Paris.”

  “How terrible. Was he heartbroken?”

  “To this day, I don’t believe he has gotten over it. But what if she didn’t die? What if she went to France to have a baby?”

  “Henry’s baby? Surely not.”

  “I told you it was a scandalous theory. The date of her birth fits easily into the timeline, so that’s one thing that may or may not be a coincidence.”

  “If that’s true, then what do you suppose happened to the woman?”

  “Perhaps she remained sequestered away in France or in England somewhere. Maybe she only died three years ago, and that’s why Amelia came to live with us.”

  “It’s hard to believe Henry would do something so improper as to—” She stopped, embarrassed.

  “Trust me,” said Langham, “it happens all the time.”

  “But it still doesn’t make sense. If he loved her, and if he got her . . . in trouble, why didn’t he marry her?”

  “That goes back to the problem of class differences, I suppose. Henry has to think of the dignity of his position. My father was intractable in that regard. So is my mother. She can’t see that times are changing and that many wealthy people in England today have achieved their wealth through industry rather than inheritance. But my parents wouldn’t consider anyone to be of equal rank with us who does not have family lineage going back to William the Conqueror.”

  “Surely you are exaggerating.”

  “Not by much.”

  “I see.” Cara was crestfallen at this information. Would Henry truly walk away from someone he loved simply because she didn’t have the right lineage? Cara was aware that members of the aristocracy preferred to marry among themselves, but she had hoped Henry was a different sort of man. He certainly didn’t seem like the sort who would take advantage of a woman and then set her aside. The picture Langham painted of his brother was not a noble one.

  “I’ve tried to get Henry to tell me what happened,” Langham continued, “but he refuses to talk about it. I’m sure he’s hiding something.”

  Was Henry really concealing such an important secret? The question was still occupying Cara’s thoughts the following morning.

  She’d risen early and was seated at a window with a sketch pad by daybreak. The rest of the house was quiet. After a week here, Cara had learned that no one else was likely to get out of bed until late morning.

  Langham often talked about how the light was better in the afternoons, but Cara enjoyed the early-morning light, too. The world felt calmer, and everything had a sharp definition that seemed to fade when the sun was higher. This was especially true on summer mornings in the country. How odd that she’d wanted all her life to come to London, and now she found herself missing the countryside! She wistfully recalled days at the Needenhams’ estate when she’d watched the predawn mist retreat from the fields with the rising of the sun.

  Almost without thinking, she began sketching. In a few moments she realized she was drawing a portrait of Amelia. Cara had felt real empathy for the girl right from the start, but even more so once she’d heard the girl’s story. If Langham’s suspicions were true, that meant Amelia’s father was with her every day, and she didn’t even know it. This seemed to Cara an unutterable cruelty. She missed her own father so much. How would she feel if she were to discover he was there all along, seeing her, knowing her, without revealing himself? Who could do this and not feel terrible guilt about practicing such deception? Did this weigh on Henry’s conscience? Was this why he had decided to come with them today?

  There was another concern on Cara’s mind. Last night she’d taken charge of a child for several hours. Everything had turned out well, and Henry had thanked her many times. Langham had been complimentary, too. But neither of them knew that Cara had broken the vow she’d made to God that she would never again work with children.

  She hadn’t meant to break that vow. She’d seen a child hurting and simply wanted to help. It wasn’t until later, when she’d had time to reflect, that she realized just how large of an error she had made.

  As she drew the full eyebrows over Amelia’s hazel eyes, Cara thought back to her prayer on the morning when she was so desperately worried for Robbie. She tried to recall the exact wording of the vow. She knew beyond a doubt that she’d promised never to seek work as a nanny or a governess. That much was straightforward. But had she also been wrong to spend those hours with Amelia? If, durin
g that time, it could be said she’d been responsible for the child’s well-being, then it was contrary to her promise to God. It didn’t matter that the girl’s guardian and a dozen servants were mere steps away. And yet, wouldn’t the Lord wish her to render kindness to a child if it was in her power to do so?

  Cara sighed, looking at the portrait taking shape beneath her hands, even as unanswerable questions tousled her thoughts. With a light touch of her finger, she traced the little crease between Amelia’s eyebrows. It was a worry line that should never be on a child’s face. The poor thing must not be happy despite her luxurious living conditions. Her every physical need was cared for, but Cara perceived that she lacked the things that fed the heart. Langham’s forehead had creased in the same way at times, generally when he was speaking of his brother. Something in the family was not well.

  Even if Cara ought not to have meddled last night, did it follow that she should not keep her promise to see Amelia today? It would be another promise broken, and wouldn’t that be a sin as well?

  Her hand slipped, and Cara worked to erase the stray line. That done, she began to draw the child’s neck and shoulders, the lace collar of her frock. She was such a pretty child when her face was not distorted with anger or obstinacy.

  Cara decided she would go. It was a promise she had made, and besides, it was just for this one day. Henry and Langham would be there, too. Henry was the child’s guardian. He would be in charge. Cara would simply be tagging along. She felt better when she thought of it that way.

  With her pencil, she reshaped the corners of Amelia’s mouth into a smile.

  Henry was having breakfast the next morning when Amelia came in. He was surprised because he hadn’t heard her usual thump-thump on the stairs. She stood in the doorway to the dining room, looking at him. She was dressed in a pretty dark blue frock with a matching ribbon in her hair. Apparently she hadn’t given the maid any trouble this morning, or Henry was sure he’d have heard that, too.

  He’d been pondering the events of the night before and thinking he ought to find ways to improve his relationship with Amelia. Here was a good time to start. He sent her a friendly smile. “Good morning, Amelia. Have you had breakfast?”

  “Yes, sir.” She was looking at him fixedly, in a slightly unnerving way. Something must be on her mind, or she wouldn’t have bothered to come down.

  He motioned toward the empty chair opposite him. “Would you care to join me?”

  He’d never made this offer before, and he could see she was taken aback by it. Her gaze slid sideways toward the footman who stood by the sideboard, waiting in case Henry needed more food or coffee. Apparently deciding the man’s presence was not objectionable, she came forward and slid into the chair.

  Henry said, “I apologize for not telling you exactly why Miss Leahy had to leave us for a while. I am happy to tell you all about it now, if you like.”

  “Yes, please.” Her words sounded more like an order than a mere response.

  There was a tap-tap coming from underneath the table, and Henry realized it was the sound of Amelia’s boot heels gently striking the chair as she swung her legs.

  He motioned toward the footman, who moved smoothly to Henry’s side. “Yes, sir?”

  “A bit of orange juice for Miss Amelia, if you please.” He looked at the girl. “Unless you would prefer milk?”

  She straightened in her chair. “Juice would be nice.”

  The footman went to the sideboard and filled a glass from a pitcher. When he set it in front of Amelia, she nodded approvingly.

  “That will be all for now,” Henry said.

  The footman nodded and left the room.

  Amelia took a sip of the juice, looking at Henry expectantly.

  “Miss Leahy’s mother lives far from here, in Durham, which is in the northern part of England. It appears her mother is not doing well. In fact, she will likely die soon.”

  He paused, allowing time for the words to sink in. Amelia set down her glass, her attention fixed on him. Although she said nothing, her expression was somber, perhaps in sympathy for her governess.

  “You can see why it was important for her to leave straightaway, and also why we don’t know exactly when she will return. However, I have every confidence she will return to us.”

  He half expected some negative reaction. But to his surprise, Amelia merely nodded.

  “In the meantime, we’ll need to find a substitute to fill in for her,” he added, emboldened by her calm acceptance of this information.

  “Miss Bernay is good.”

  Perhaps the girl thought last night’s interaction was a tryout of some sort. “Miss Bernay is not a governess.”

  The click of Amelia’s boots stopped. “Who is she, then?”

  “She’s a . . . er, friend of your cousin Langham.”

  “Oh.” There was a pause. “Miss Bernay said we were going to the Embankment today. And the Crystal Palace.”

  Surprised by this last bit of information, Henry set down his cup. “She did not mention the Crystal Palace to me.”

  Amelia idly pushed the empty glass from side to side between her hands. “I told her there are big statues of dinosaurs there, and she said they would be very interesting to see.”

  Henry leaned back and crossed his arms as he studied the girl, trying to decide if she had made the leap in logic by mistake, or if she had done it on purpose to see how far she could push her desires for this outing.

  “She is coming today, isn’t she?” Amelia asked, suspicion creeping into her voice.

  For the three years that Amelia had been in his care, Henry had done his best to provide a stable home life, but she always acted as though she expected the rug to be pulled out from under her at any time. Perhaps that was partly a result of the frequent turnover in governesses. And yet Amelia herself had been the reason for that, making it more like a self-fulfilling prophecy. He didn’t know what had started her on that downward spiral, unless the pain of her first few years on earth was embedded within her too deeply to overcome.

  He said with a cheerfulness that was meant to be reassuring, “We shall all go together.”

  “You’re coming, too?” She seemed surprised at this and, judging from her frown, displeased. Her legs began tapping against the chair once more.

  “I have other things to attend to this morning, but we will leave after luncheon.”

  “But that’s ages from now!” Amelia protested.

  “If you can pass the morning quietly, then after we go to the river, we will see about going to the Crystal Palace as well.”

  There was a pause while she weighed her options. “Yes, sir. May I please be excused?”

  “You may.”

  She slipped off the chair, but as she left the room, there was a spring in her step.

  Henry couldn’t help but think she had just proved herself an excellent negotiator.

  CHAPTER

  14

  CARA COULD HEAR Amelia’s approach long before the girl reached the parlor. “Why does Amelia deliberately make so much noise on the stairs?” she asked Langham.

  “My mother reprimanded her once and told her a lady’s step should be gentle and light. Ever since then, Amelia has been determined to do the opposite.”

  Despite the angry sound of her footsteps, Amelia did not look out of sorts when she entered the parlor. She wasn’t exactly smiling, but Cara detected a tiny lift to her lips. “You came,” Amelia said.

  There was quiet emotion behind those simple words. Cara’s heart went out to the girl. “You don’t think I’d miss a chance to see the Thames, do you?”

  Now Amelia’s mouth widened in a true smile. “We’re also going to the Crystal Palace to see the dinosaurs.”

  “Don’t you think your guardian should approve that idea first?” Cara suggested. “I did not speak to him about the Crystal Palace.”

  “He has already approved it. We had a chat this morning at breakfast.”

  She said this wi
th such a grown-up voice that Cara was tempted to laugh.

  “Let’s take the Underground,” Amelia suggested.

  Langham scrunched his nose. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

  “Because Cousin Henry never lets us ride the train.”

  “You are a contrary creature, aren’t you?” Cara teased.

  “I hate to disappoint you, Amelia, but Henry is coming today also,” Langham pointed out.

  “I know. Unless he’s late. He’s often late when he has to go to meetings.” She sounded hopeful at this idea. “But if he does come, you can talk him into it!” She looked at Langham with pleading eyes. “Please?”

  “You are not frightened at the idea of riding a speeding train through a dark tunnel?” He spoke in a macabre tone to scare her, but it had no effect.

  “I think it would be exciting!” She turned to Cara. “Don’t you?”

  In truth, Cara was afraid of the Underground. Earlier this year, her sister Julia had been riding on the Underground when a terrible accident took place.

  “The Underground is too hot and smoky,” Langham said. “On a hot August day like today, it may well be unbearable.”

  “Maybe,” Amelia conceded. But the expression on her face showed that Langham had done nothing to diminish her eagerness.

  He gave an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose we can make a case for taking the Underground if you are so keen on the idea.”

  “Excellent!” Amelia said, once more giving a fair imitation of an adult.

  Cara was about to remind them that the decision ultimately rested with Henry, when he himself entered the room. “My apologies. The meeting took longer than I anticipated.”

  His appearance had not altered, but today Cara looked at him with new eyes. Had he really done the things Langham had suggested? Could he stand here, as Amelia’s father, and not give the poor girl the slightest indication of it? Cara hated that Langham had colored her impressions of Henry with these doubts about his character. She would like nothing more than to discover Langham was wrong. But what if he wasn’t? Surely there must be some way to discover the truth and do what was best for the child.