Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Amelia covered the top of her glass with her hand and yawned. “I think I have had enough to drink for one day.”
She had celebrated the return of her husband with his family—and privately, his good sense, too—since she’d left him alone in his bedchamber to compose himself.
She hoped his suffering was at an end now.
The past could not be changed or forgotten, and this was a particularly horrible last memory of his late wife.
She couldn’t imagine how difficult that day had been for him. It was no wonder he blamed himself.
But it was over and left behind now, she hoped.
Beside her, Jessica sighed. “I’m afraid I must pass, too.”
Jessica’s head fell onto the duchess’ shoulder after the empty glasses were set aside. “Should we ring for proper tea, Mama?”
“Perhaps sweetened coffee?”
“Oh, that made my head pound horribly last time we tried it,” Jessica whispered. “I fear I will need my husband to carry me home.”
“I’m sure he will be happy to,” the duchess promised. “Unless he is carrying Xavier.
“Yes,” Jessica sighed. “Sometimes I think he loves our child more than me.”
“That is simply not true, and you know it,” the duchess chided. “He is devoted to both of you in equal measure.”
Being surrounded by so many women who’d made love matches had almost made Amelia cry today. It was the wine, of course, tugging on her heartstrings. She was always more emotional if she indulged during the day. But she would have to compose herself. There were guests to be dined with tonight.
However, today’s indulgences had given her the confidence to confront her husband about his behavior and clear the air, so she had no real regrets about how she had handled him.
A door creaked open, and a woman sidled into the room. Amelia’s good mood vanished at seeing Lady Ashcroft again.
“Lady Ashcroft,” the duchess cried out, sitting up and gesturing urgently for the woman to join them. “We were just wondering where you’d gotten to?”
“I was walking the long hall with Lord Chatham,” she said, chin rising a little as she smiled. “I found him wandering alone and in desperate need of company.”
“I’m sure he was vastly entertained by your conversation,” Jessica murmured dryly, casting a worried glance toward Amelia.
Amelia had already told the pair that Chatham was found and well and there was no further cause for concern about his disappearance. They’d not questioned her.
“Yes, he was entertained by our conversation,” Lady Ashcroft said, as she sat across the table from Amelia. “We have so much to catch up on still. He’s always been a good friend and confidant. In fact, I’ve always felt like I was part of the family when I came to call, because of him.”
Amelia straightened herself upon hearing that.
She had hoped she’d misunderstood the woman’s purpose in attempting to steal her husband away.
Amelia would be wise to keep an eye on him and this woman, so she, herself, was not taken by surprise by any affair.
Chatham claimed he wished for no emotional attachments with any other woman.
She did not believe Chatham was unfaithful to her so soon but theirs was not a love match and one day he might be tempted.
The duchess smiled. “We are always happy to have you visit us again, Lady Ashcroft.”
“Oh, please call me Phillipa. Everyone in the family does. We will see each other often in the coming years.” The woman’s smile turned smug. “I’ve rejoined my parents at Longview and will be living there for the foreseeable future.”
“How lucky for them.” The duchess blinked. “I must say that is a very elegant gown you’re wearing today. Isn’t it, Jessica?”
“Lovely,” Jessica agreed.
“The silk is from Paris,” the woman told them, smoothing a hand over her leg.
“Mama said the fit and rich colors suited my figure perfectly.” Lady Ashcroft glanced over at Amelia finally.
“You are wearing a pretty gown as well, Lady Chatham” she said, and her eyes skimmed Amelia’s less formal gown.
It was white muslin, the fabric plain and inexpensive, and as Amelia glanced down, she noticed an unusual degree of wrinkling in the skirts.
She smoothed her fingers over the fabric, wondering how that had happened, and then she remembered Milo clutching her so tightly as he cried. Was it any wonder her gown needed a good press now? But she wished she’d noticed before rejoining the duchess.
“Your Grace, I couldn’t help but overhear a commotion upstairs,” Lady Ashcroft whispered. “Is everything all right?”
The duchess frowned. “I’ve heard of no commotion. How odd that you did.”
“Yes, it was odd,” the woman said, raising a brow that suggested she was looking to gossip. “I think perhaps the sound came from the direction of the family rooms.”
“Oh, good. Samuel has arrived.”
“Not Samuel’s chambers but…” Her eyes slid to Amelia.
Amelia understood perfectly and was incensed.
Was this woman sneaking about outside her husband’s bedchamber and listening to them?
Had she come to seduce him? Clearly, she chose the wrong moment.
Amelia worried about how much she had heard, as well.
She valued her privacy, and would not like her husband gossiped about for crying over his late wife.
The duchess caught her eye. “Amelia dear, you were the last of us to return from upstairs. Did you hear anything untoward?”
“No, not a thing.” She scrambled to offer a plausible explanation to end the conversation…then thought of something just a bit amusing. “Oh, now that I think of it, there was a moment between myself and Chatham that may have been misunderstood by anyone who strayed into the family wing.”
Jessica raised a brow and sat forward. “Oh, do tell?”
“Chatham discovered I was ticklish,” she said, wrapping her arms about her ribs.
Lady Ashcroft appeared skeptical. “Ticklish?”
“Indeed. He proved extremely persistent and I had to get my revenge, too.”
Jessica laughed. “So much like my husband. Once Giddy has me in his clutches, he never lets me go until I beg for mercy.”
“Your Grace, I must apologize for my appearance. I failed to notice the rumpled state of my gown after the tickling, but I should have changed before rejoining you.”
“There is nothing you ever need to apologize to me for, my dear Amelia. You are married to a Westfall. We cannot help that our husbands have roving hands.” The duchess grinned as if it was perfectly normal behavior.
Amelia inclined her head, thankful to be believed, noticing Lady Ashcroft was less than pleased with the way the conversation had turned out.
She’d clearly hoped to stir up suspicion.
They resumed their conversations about fashions popular in London, and she breathed a sigh of relief that the moment had passed.
It was not long after that when the woman excused herself, claiming an errand, and departed the room.
The duchess glanced her way. “Was everything all right upstairs, my dear?”
“Yes, it is now,” she said firmly. She did not explain, and the duchess asked no further questions again.
Her Grace stood a little unsteadily. “You will make an admirable duchess one day. Loyalty is important in our family.”
So was the ability to spin a tall tale to spare a husband’s reputation.
“Indeed, yes,” Jessica murmured. “Phillipa is a skilled manipulator of the truth, too. Never believe her when she claims to know more about your husband than you do.”
Amelia nodded. “I should go looking for my children.”
“Ah, I’m afraid the duke stole them away to visit the stables some time ago.” The duchess peeked out the window. “He said they needed some air. Lucy, particularly.”
“Of course.”
“I do expect him to return soon, though,” the duchess said. Then she whispered, “If he doesn’t, I might never act as hostess for another house party. This lot is so dreary. All they do is eat and pick at old grievances or look to start new ones.”
Amelia stifled a sigh. Nothing about society had changed, and likely never would. “How is Charles this afternoon?”
“Sleeping again. He has taken your husband’s advice firmly to heart.”
Amelia doubted her husband had much to do with settling the child, but she did not argue the point. “I’ve observed babies, children go through phases. One only has to be patient until they remember how they must behave.”
The duchess grinned. “That holds true for Westfall men, in particular.”
“I’m sure you are right.”
The duchess suddenly sighed, and when Amelia turned, she spotted the duke entering the room, but not with her children in tow. Would she have to chase them all over the manor to spend enough time with them each day?
The duke seemed to steal away with them often, effectively limiting her time alone with them. He didn’t even apologize for the inconvenience he caused her.
When the duke noticed her standing by his duchess’ side, he smiled. “They are outside, exhausting the boot boy and a footman with a game of chase.”
Amelia excused herself immediately and went in search of them. She had just spotted them through a window, and was on the verge of stepping outside, when heavy footsteps rushed toward her.
She was suddenly captured from behind.
“There you are,” Chatham whispered in her ear, hugging her close.
And there he remained, his arms tight around her middle, holding her in his embrace as if she were dear to him and sorely missed.
She closed her eyes at how good it felt, how deeply her encounters with Chatham filled her soul with peace. With him, she sometimes felt she belonged—and yet, quite often, she was sure he felt the opposite.
She stroked his arms, hoping the action did not seem too affectionate. “The children were with your father earlier,” she whispered. “I was about to join them outside.”
“You were staring out the window for a long time.”
“Debating which doorway to use. I swear they move faster than any other children I’ve ever known.”