Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Milo finally found Amelia in the garden, hurrying toward the manor, looking devilishly attractive to him in the afternoon sunlight. He had been looking for her all day, and the woman had proved frustratingly elusive. He had just started to worry something had happened to her.
But she appeared whole and safe, and he watched her for a few moments—cataloguing all of her qualities as if for the first time.
She was, in a word, perfection. Understatedly elegant. Sturdy and yet so very gentle. A lady in every sense of the word by day, but also a vixen who stole his breath and sanity when they were alone.
He glanced around to confirm the children were still following, then headed in her direction. He would have to delay his confession of love until after the children were out of earshot. He could not, however, control his own limbs in his eagerness to reach her.
He captured Amelia in his arms from behind and kissed her cheek soundly. “There you are. Have you been outside all this time?”
“Yes,” she said, then held out her hands for him to see. There was dirt under her nails once more, and that made him smile. “I couldn’t help myself.”
He laughed softly, delighted that she had done something that made her happy. He glanced around the nearby garden bed, but saw no soil disturbed anywhere close by. “Where on earth were you gardening?”
“At the cottage your brother is rebuilding.”
He nodded, glad she had not been alone or lost, the way he had started to fear. “You were with Samuel?”
“Not in the way the last Lady Chatham tried,” Amelia promised quickly.
Milo winced. “He told you about that, did he?”
“Yes.” She winced, too. “Samuel returned to his repairs soon after we spoke, but he said he’d welcome any help with the weeding. I didn’t think I would be missed…and you had Lady Ashcroft to entertain you.”
He tried to catch her eye, but she kept her gaze on the distant view. “Conversation with Lady Ashcroft is never time well spent.”
She glanced at him sharply, then noticed the children were with him.
Adam hurried over and wrapped himself around her legs. “Papa feared you must be lost!”
“No, I wasn’t lost,” she promised him, ruffling his hair. “I would never leave you. Either of you.”
Milo’s chest swelled to see the bond growing between Amelia and their young son.
Lucy was looking down at Amelia’s skirts, at the dirt and grass stains on her gown.
Amelia also noticed, and she lifted her chin higher.
The action reminded him of the day he’d proposed the marriage between them.
She was expecting disapproval, but Milo had been charmed even then.
Her manner that day matched his memories of all the times they’d met before that.
She was no wilting wallflower but a strong, resourceful lady.
Though today, she did look a bit weary, and he led her to a stone bench to rest. She must have spent a good few hours clearing those weeds away, and it would take many more hours of labor to even call it a garden.
Next time, she must have servants to help her, as well. He could spend a few hours helping her with that garden if she’d let him as well. The children could help too.
“We missed you,” Milo said.
Amelia’s gaze flickered to Lucy before she looked down at her hands. She curled her fingers into her palms to hide the dirt under her nails. “I’m sorry if my disappearance inconvenienced anyone.”
“Never an inconvenience,” he assured. “Time alone does provide valuable enlightenment, though.”
“Yes, it does,” she said, then squared her shoulders. She glanced at Lucy again. “Are those flowers for the duchess, Lucy?”
“No. They were for Lady Ashcroft,” she confessed, biting her lower lip. “She said she would like some flowers before she took me riding.”
Amelia sighed and glanced away. “Then I suppose you should give them to her before they wilt,” she said gently.
“She…she didn’t really want them, or to ride with me,” Lucy admitted in a small, devastated voice. “She lied. She just wanted to have Papa all to herself.”
Milo placed a hand on Lucy’s head, approving of his child’s honesty. Amelia valued that more than anything else.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed, and she looked at Milo with suspicion.
“Nothing happened,” he promised. “Nothing ever has or will.”
She turned to Lucy again, her expression grave. “You chose the prettiest ones in the garden.”
Lucy shuffled a little closer. “Do you really like the one I picked?”
“I love them,” Amelia whispered.
Lucy bit her lip…then held them out. “Would you like them, Mama?”
Amelia didn’t respond for several moments as tears filled her eyes. She struggled to contain her emotions, then she leaned forward. “I would adore anything you ever give me, Lucy,” she said. “We can be friends, can’t we?”
Lucy nodded quickly.
Milo’s relief that their relationship was finally moving in the right direction was acute. It was the first time Lucy had directly addressed Amelia with any respect. But to have her call her mama filled his heart with joy.
Lucy passed the flowers across to Amelia’s visibly trembling hand. She held them to her nose and inhaled, watching Lucy the whole time. “Do you know their names?”
Their daughter shook her head, and Amelia admired each flower and named them, pointing to them in turn.
Lucy seemed keen to listen now and shuffled closer still. “Would you like more?”
“I don’t need them while I have these,” Amelia told her. “Perhaps another day we could pick flowers together.”
“Why wait for another day, she needs flowers that were intended for her,” Milo suggested. “Lucy, Adam, I believe Grandpa was in his study. Would you ask him if it would be all right if we pick more flowers today?”
Lucy hesitated to go, no doubt suspecting she was being sent away like last time.
“We’ll be here waiting for you to come back,” he promised.
The girl ran off, as fast as her legs would carry her, with Adam tagging along.
“I really don’t need more flowers,” Amelia chided. “These are enough. I’m not romantic.”
Milo shook his head. “Everyone is romantic to some degree. Even you, wife.”
“No, Chatham. I’m not,” she insisted firmly, twisting her wedding ring on her finger.
He sighed and sat beside her. “Is everything all right with you today?”
“Yes, of course it is.”
He frowned, though, because she was obviously not herself and could barely hide her agitation. She never sat playing with her ring, for one. “If you’re upset over Lady Ashcroft and Lucy, don’t be.”
“No. I am reconciled to how things will be for a while. It was naive of me to imagine it would be easy to win her over. This was a small step in the right direction, though.”
“You’re hopeful, not naive,” he promised, trying to meet her gaze. She smiled but her expression was closed off in a way it had never been before. “My daughter disappoints me, too. She is a great deal too much like her mother at times.”
Amelia shook her head firmly and bent to draw her sagging stocking back up her leg. “You cannot place any blame on a child for not wanting her mother’s replacement. She likes Lady Ashcroft more because she’s known her longer.”
He smiled at how she defended Lucy, even if she must be vexed with her. “That is, I think, firmly in the past. Phillipa showed her true colors today and lost Lucy’s trust. She will not be given any opportunity to regain it.”
Amelia frowned. “I do not wish to dictate her friendships.”
“Lucky for you, I can protect my family from being imposed upon by others who think too well of themselves,” he promised. “Dunstan left the estate at noon. He will not bother you again.”
Amelia sighed and looked away.
He caught Amelia’s hand and drew it to his lips. He kissed the ring on her finger. She should be happy but his words had made her sad for some reason. “Something else is wrong. I can feel it.”
“Nothing is wrong. But there is something I wish to talk about with you.”
A prickling of unease filled him when she tugged back her hand. “What is it?”
She frowned. “I think it would be best if we cease lovemaking for a while.”
His heart soared with joy at a possible reason for that, and he grabbed her hands again to pull her closer. “You’re with child?”
“No.” She jerked her hands back to her waist. “I don’t believe I am.”
“Then why stop?” They were making love often and gloriously.
Amelia moved a little bit farther away, and a chill swept over him.
“Even if you are with child, it is not necessary to cease lovemaking.”
She chewed her lip for a moment. “We need to.”
Milo was thoroughly confused now. “Why do you want to stop doing something you enjoy?”
She burst to her feet. “I have to be honest with myself, and with you. Our marriage has altered me in ways I didn’t expect. I know that’s not what you want to hear or what we agreed upon. I think… I think I have to go away for a while.”
“What? No!” He panicked at the thought of any separation. He could not imagine any gulf of space between them. “Is it your family? Do you miss your brother and the garden you made there? I swear, I will keep my promises to give you one of your own.”
“I know you will, and I must keep my promises as well. Leaving is something I need to do. Perhaps I could go to my cottage for a few days. It is much closer than Devon.”
He frowned at the mention of the tiny cottage Amelia had inherited and delivered into his keeping upon their wedding day.
He hadn’t imagined any situation where she might stay there, for any length of time.
She had a home waiting for her and should have given up on the cottage the moment she’d married him.
“For how long do you wish to be away from me?”
“Until these feelings leave me,” she whispered—then seeming horrified as she quickly covered her lips.
She’d not meant to say that out loud, he’d wager…and Milo’s heart skipped a beat.
He took a step in her direction. “What feelings?”
She shook her head.