Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Milo took a deep breath and lifted his hand.
He paused there a moment. He had not seen Amelia for the rest of the day.
Upon his return to the manor after escaping Phillipa, the duchess had waylaid him and informed him that Amelia had become unwell and was lying down in the care of a servant.
She’d asked not to be disturbed, so he’d taken the children away from the manor again, trying to explain why he’d married.
Lucy didn’t understand still, but Adam thought it would be acceptable if Amelia sometimes tucked him into bed at night instead of a servant.
But when Amelia had cried off from attending the dinner meant to announce their marriage, too, he’d become uneasy. He’d questioned the duchess about the seriousness of her sudden illness and been assured it was the minor inconvenience all women suffered.
The duchess had lied to his face, but he’d held his tongue.
He of course knew when his wife’s courses were due so he could only conclude that Amelia was avoiding him due to their earlier discussion of the Christmas holiday.
He made no fuss in front of the guests, but determined not to let the night pass without speaking with his wife.
They had argued, and she had stormed off before he could put Phillipa in her place.
They were not off to a good start in this marriage, and while it was his fault they were at odds, he refused to grovel. He’d done that too many times before with his first wife to resolve their differences.
He finally knocked on the door to his bedchamber and waited anxiously for a sound from within. It was slow in coming, but Amelia finally appeared, peeking through the gap rather than face him directly. She did not look unwell but her expression was one of distrust.
“Can I help you, my lord?”
“I hoped to have a word with you if you are feeling better,” he said quietly, but inwardly, he winced. He really had made a mess if this with her welcome. “In private.”
Amelia came out into the hall rather than inviting him into his own room and crossed her arms over her chest. She wore a dull green robe that did nothing for her complexion. But it matched the mood between them.
Sour.
She stood stiffly, eyes shifting restlessly around the hallway behind him, refusing to hold his gaze for more than a moment. “What do you want to talk about?”
“The duchess insisted you were unwell and not to disturb you today but,” he began, studying her face. “I could not stay away any longer. I had to know how you fare.”
“I did not ask her to do that, and I am not ill. If I was, I would tell you myself.”
He nodded. “She did it to keep us apart then.”
Amelia shrugged. “I am not responsible for the actions of others.”
“No, you are not and I did not think you were,” he agreed, glad to know his suspicions were correct, that the duchess meant to protect Amelia.
“I wish to apologize for today. I should have realized that the decisions I made long ago required a discussion with you. I should have mentioned the winter holiday with my family.”
“Yes, you should have on both counts.”
“It is an adjustment, being part of a pair again,” he confessed.
“I wouldn’t know what that is like,” she told him. “I have never been considered anyone’s equal.”
He winced. “No, I suppose you might not have. But you will soon, I swear,” he promised, and meant it.
Amelia regarded him steadily. “That remains to be seen, my lord.”
He moved closer to the doorway. “Can I be forgiven?”
“Are we staying?”
“I’d like to discuss that with you.”
Her brow rose. “Now, I assume?”
“Yes, now,” he said. “If you will spare me a few minutes of your time.”
When she opened the door, as if to let him pass, he shook his head and took a step back. He would not resolve an argument in a bedchamber they had to share. He’d learned his lesson the first time around.
But the longer they were at odds, the worse things could become. He glanced down the hall as he heard a whisper of laughter.
There was nowhere close by to sit together that was private enough, but there was somewhere they could stand, far from any casual observers. Milo gestured Amelia toward the front upper balcony and drew her outside with him.
It was cold tonight, and he immediately removed his coat and offered it to Amelia so she would stay warm.
Amelia accepted it after a moment’s consideration, and he gently placed it around her shoulders.
There was not much light with which to see her face, but her arms were still definitely crossed over her chest.
He wet his lips. “My father’s health concerns me, and his current mood bodes ill for peace between us all, too.
My reasons for staying are to benefit us, in the end.
If he accepts our marriage, accepts you as my wife, we can return often and ensure the estate doesn’t suffer.
It has taken others’ decades to recover from neglect.
I cannot leave my son a troubled estate if and when I am gone. ”
“You worry only about your son’s future, then?”
He heard her inflection and caught his slip of the tongue immediately. “Forgive me. Our son. Our children.”
“If there are to be any, at this rate,” she muttered under her breath, but loud enough that he heard. Louder she continued, “Your father seems perfectly capable of anything for a man his age.”
They might never share a bed again to make good on his promises if he didn’t regain her fleeting trust now.
“My father usually has more energy than I do, than men half his age. I can see a stark difference in him since Christmas. And it is not just my new brother that wears him down. It is Samuel, too.”
“Your brother? What has Samuel to do with us staying?”
“He’s here. Somewhere.” Milo sighed heavily. He hadn’t wanted to reveal the family scandal to Amelia until he spoke with his brother. “Samuel has taken leave of his senses and is currently living out in the Stapleton’s woods, more or less alone.”
“I’ve considered the benefits of doing that more than a few times,” Amelia murmured. “In fact, before we agreed to marry, I was about to move to the small cottage I inherited to escape my family’s continued scorn.”
His eyes widened. “You were?”
“Yes, I was. I had funds enough saved, plans made, because I was growing tired of never being consulted. Never considered, always hushed. I wanted something of my own at last, even if my family disowned me.”
He winced again. He hadn’t known that marriage to him had been her second choice. He understood her irritation better now. He was letting her down rather badly so far. Her dreams were a long way from being met, while his were almost realized.
“Samuel refuses to dress as a gentleman and a Westfall or partake of any family festivities. He was absent at Christmas, and he hasn’t shown his face during this party, though Papa tried to lure him back many times.”
Amelia frowned. “Samuel has two sons. Where are they?”
He shook his head. “Running wild on the estate somewhere, too, although I believe the boys spend much of their time at a neighbor’s estate. My father worries about them all.”
“I’d say he has cause,” Amelia murmured, her stance softening a bit more as he confided in her. “But I’m afraid I sympathize with Samuel’s desire to make his own way in the world. It is far too easy to become caught up in the problems of others and believe they are yours to fix.”
“I cannot mend my brother’s broken heart any more than I can fix my own.
But there are ways to grieve the loss of a beloved spouse that do not involve total isolation.
” He stretched out a hand to her, then thought better of it.
“If we could stay a little longer, I hope to bring my brother back to the life he was born for. He could be of great help to Father in my absence. That would lift a burden from my mind, and we could go home sooner.”
Amelia sighed, and then her lips pursed in thought.
Milo found her expression comforting. She was a deep thinker, his new wife. Quite different from his first, who reacted first and thought later, if at all. He could not forget again that he had decided upon this sort of marriage. He’d agreed to share the decision-making with Amelia.
If he wanted this marriage to work, he had better keep all his promises. “As soon as matters are settled here, I will take you home to Devon. Until then, you will have every comfort imaginable and servants to wait on you hand and foot.”
She inhaled sharply. “I never asked for an excess of servants to do my bidding when we agreed to wed. I only wanted the things you promised me, and a place for the items that are dearest to my heart. My family treasures, pieces most useful to me, were sent ahead by you without discussion, too.”
At that, Milo closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. He’d given orders that Amelia’s things go directly ahead of them to Devon, imagining their stay here to be brief. “Everything should have arrived there.”
Her brow rose. “How will I know that they arrived safe and sound, or even at all?”
“I will write to my steward tomorrow and ask for assurances,” he promised.
“It is not the same as seeing them with my own eyes, in my new home,” she noted, and Milo felt guilt slice through him again.
He had not considered that her great eagerness for her new home was as important to her as the getting of children.
He was also not sure what to do about the latter, either, to be honest. The consummation of their marriage had been awkward. Future bedroom encounters might always be, too. “How can I make it up to you?”
Amelia sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Would it help to stay angry with me?”
“Probably not,” she admitted with a shrug.
He moved toward her, tightening his coat around her shoulders, but only held her in place lightly. “I’m glad, because I’ve found I dislike being at odds with you.”
She met his gaze. “Did you expect me never to oppose you?”