Chapter Eleven
Lord Noah Peterson
I entered my suite of rooms, peeling off my coat as I went.
The servants had lit the gas lamps, and a soft glow covered the sitting room.
I had used the excuse to visit my estates with the na?ve notion I could escape from my own thoughts.
Except Sally had lived there as well and I decided to return to London.
At least here, I could be close to my boys.
A dull thud sounded from Sally’s old room on the other side of the sitting room.
I halted in my tracks, memories flooding my mind.
In the days after her death, the silence in the room had been deafening.
Ethan had a habit of sneaking from the nursery into my room, but it would be impossible for it to be him.
I’d just checked on my children in their room, and per usual, they were all in Ethan’s bed.
Head tilted, I strained to see if my imagination was playing tricks on me.
Another thump, followed by a low murmuring sound.
I fought to keep my hand steady. Sally’s room had remained as she left it, a shrine to my wife.
Even to this day, I couldn’t bring myself to let go of any of her belongings.
It was still too raw. I strode to the door, and my pulse pounding a mad beat, I opened it to reveal dark blue linens.
The heavy color blocked out what little light infiltrated the room from outside.
Amelia knelt on the floor. Clad in a green robe, the material hugged her plump bottom, which was stuck in the air while she reached under the canopied bed.
I stood in place, telling myself to say something, anything.
It proved difficult to formulate any one of the million questions spinning around in my head.
I settled on the most imperative one. “Amelia, what are you doing in here?”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening. “Noah, you are home. I thought you were gone for the night.”
“I had a change of plan.” I crossed my arms over my chest and inspected her flushed face. Her hair was down and braided over one shoulder. “What are you doing in here?”
“I, um, I was looking for a book I lent Sally. You know how she loved Miss Austen.” She stumbled over her words, grabbing the bed frame and hoisting herself to her feet.
The belt around her robe defined her slender waist and generous hips.
Her hand clutched a thin volume, and she lifted the book for me to see the cover.
“I wanted to read it, and I searched the entire house when I recalled I had given the volume to her.” By the way she averted her gaze, she wasn’t telling me the entire truth.
Yes, I was family by marriage, but there would be severe consequences if she were caught in my rooms. “And you thought it might be under the bed?”
“Like me, Sally liked to read in bed. It, well, I thought maybe it might have slipped to the floor.” She shrugged, the robe parting at the neck to reveal the swell of her breasts. “And I was right. I found it on the floor by the end of the bed.”
“Are you telling me that the servants missed the book for over a year?” I asked, tapping my thumb against the linen of my shirt. I was conscious of being in my shirtsleeves and alone with Amelia. Beautiful, appealing Amelia. My wife’s sister.
“You haven’t let them into her quarters, Noah,” she said, waving her hand around the stuffy room. It was shrouded, but in the light of day, the room carried a layer of dust. It also carried a hint of her scent, which had slowly been fading every day.
I shifted on my feet at the reminder. “Regardless, you should have sent a servant to fetch it for you.”
“It is late, and I’d dismissed Jenny for the night.
I couldn’t sleep and rather than face a second night staring at the ceiling, I thought I’d immerse myself in a favorite of ours.
I...” She shrugged, her lower lip quivering the slightest bit.
Hands shaking and mouth pinched, she inhaled.
Upon closer inspection, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy; the dark circles beneath them spoke of exhaustion.
“You needn’t explain any further,” I said, lessening my combative stance. Amelia and Sally had been thick as thieves while growing up.
She nodded and brought her knuckle to her cheek, brushing aside the sheen of moisture which made her skin dewy. Her breath caught on a sob. “It’s been a struggle today.”
My stomach dropped at the reminder. I had stayed away from London today because it was hard to face a future without Sally.
Stepping forward, I took Amelia’s hand, holding it between my own.
Foolish, yes, since I wanted to draw her into a tight embrace.
Her pain echoed my own. It took all of my willpower to keep the distance between us.
I was feeling restless, and in my current mood, I might do something I’d regret.
Like kiss her. “Perhaps we should go to the blue sitting room and talk.” We often stayed up late talking about a myriad of subjects, all under the watchful eye of a servant.
“No,” she shook her head, her footsteps faltering.
“No, Mother is there, and I, well, I would rather not.” She bit her bottom lip.
“I’m sorry, Noah. I thought you were still out for the evening.
Don’t let me keep you. If you wish to join the rest of the family or retire for the night, be my guest. I will see myself out. ”
“Do you really think it is appropriate for you to be in my private rooms while I am present? Your mother and father would be appalled, and rightly so.” I took a step back and crooked my finger, indicating she follow me into the sitting room.
The sweet smell of roses drifted from her as she passed me, her hips swaying in an unconscious rhythm.
I’d had a few drinks before I left my estate, and the brandy weakened my resolve.
“No, of course not. In my defense, you indicated you would be gone overnight, and I really wanted to read that book.” She cast a remorseful smile, a gleam of apology in her eyes.
Instead of heading to the door, she approached the sideboard where several decanters sat.
“Since I am already here, perhaps we can have a glass of sherry?”
Without waiting for my response, she unstopped the crystal and began to pour.
“Amelia, whatever are you playing at?” I asked, cutting to the chase. No matter how upset she was, her current behavior was questionable.
She lifted the glass and took a sip before she brought the second glass over to me. “I’m not playing at anything. I’m avoiding my mother. She’s been exceptionally difficult tonight, especially after Oliver canceled his appointment with my father.”
“Why did he cancel?” My stomach dropped. When he’d left me, he’d been adamant that he’d propose tomorrow. Surely he hadn’t changed his mind?
Amelia handed me the glass, her lips pressed in a grim line. “He claims his grandmother is sick.”
“Claims?” I nodded as I relaxed deeper into my seat. The wine was smooth, and the tartness rested pleasantly on my palate. Oliver had let it slip that his grandmother was sick. I prayed her illness wasn’t serious. “You don’t believe him?”
Amelia lowered her lashes before raising them again. Resignation rested in her stare. “I do. I’m obviously disappointed by the delay, but if Lady Gwendolyn is sick, Oliver should be by her side.”
We stared at each other for a long moment, a tension building between us that wasn’t there seconds before. “It might be wise for us to go down to the cream sitting room next to your father’s study.”
“Wise, probably. However, we are in a sitting room already, and if we leave, there’s a chance I will run into Mother, something I’ve avoided doing all day.
” She licked her bottom lip, drawing my eye to the plump flesh.
Her skirt hugged her hips as she sauntered over to one of the chairs upholstered in cream.
Humor underlined her words, her eyebrow lifted in challenge.
A spark of her old self emerged, wearying my steadfastness further.
I had avoided being intimate with a woman for fear of falling in love with her.
I was already in love with Amelia, and in a way, she posed an unforeseen danger.
“You know what I mean. You being here is quite scandalous. What would Oliver say?” I sat in the seat next to hers and stretched out my legs. When I was married, Sally and I often sat thus. After her death, I avoided the room whenever possible.
“Until Oliver proposes, he has no right to chime in.” Amelia stared into her glass, her delicate jaw clenched.
The strain over his proposal was palpable.
“He’s raced down this track before without making the finish line.
” She released a heavy sigh and drank deeply from her glass.
Her slender throat worked, the creamy quality of her skin prominent in the lamplight.
Amelia had no idea about the demons that drove Oliver and his decision or mine. I had to be careful with my answer else I give anything away. “You were in mourning.”
“You needn’t defend him. I am well aware of the circumstances.” The spark of rebellion dimmed. She rolled the now empty glass in her palm and stood, moving over to the sideboard once more. “While a part of me understands, the other part is anxious to get this over with.”
“You must have patience.” I understood how hard it was for her and for him.
Being in the middle had placed me at a disadvantage.
Both had taken me into their confidence, and I wasn’t at liberty to tell her what I knew.
It would make it much easier if I could disclose all.
Or perhaps not. Amelia would be shocked to learn that Oliver and I had kissed—well, we’d done more than kissed.
It was a moot point. She could never learn of our affair because it was beyond the realm of an innocent lady. “He will propose.”
“What if I decide not to accept his offer?” She poured another glass. Color enhanced her cheeks, and there was a reflective look in her eyes.
She rarely imbibed in more than one sherry.
The overindulgence in the wine explained her bold behavior.
All the more reason for me to call a halt to this insanity.
I stayed in my chair and said nothing to dissuade her.
The truth was I didn’t want to put an end to our conversation.
This was the most relaxed I had been all day.
“I would say you were speaking out of turn. You love him, and he loves you.” Marriage to me had meant the opportunity to share my life with a woman through the good times and the bad.
Sally had been a good wife. There were times when we argued, but no marriage was faultless.
“He will ask for your hand, and you will marry him.”
Amelia resumed her seat, sitting sideways in the chair.
She tucked the long train of the robe around her bent legs.
The robe had come loose at the bodice, showing more of her cotton gown.
I averted my gaze from the enticement. “I’m not sure it is wise.
Please hear me out.” She put up a staying hand to halt the words that rested on the tip of my tongue.
“If he couldn’t live without me, it makes sense that he’d make a formal request of my father the second my mourning period was over and not wait the entire year. ”
“You know how meticulous Oliver is. He wanted to be respectful to your parents.” I swirled the wine in my glass, studying the ruby liquid.
It was easier than watching her lovely face twisted in anguish.
If our situations were different, I might reach over and take her hand. Alas, I wasn’t at liberty to do so.
“He is troubled by something but is reluctant to share it with me.” She leaned over the arm of her chair, the movement pushing her breasts high, and the material strained at the bodice. “Before he went to university, he told me everything. Has he said anything to you about what’s bothering him?”
“What we discuss is between the two of us. I’m sorry.
I have to keep his confidence.” I dangled the glass between my fingertips, trying to keep my mind on track and not stare at her tempting body.
We were talking about Oliver, her soon-to-be fiancé, and my lover.
Common decency said not to think of either of them in such a manner.
Yet I was a degenerate, therefore, past redemption.
Amelia traced her thumb down the stem of her glass, her slender fingers curled around it. “I love him, truly I do. It just, well, today was difficult, and his proposal gave me something to look forward to after, well, after today.”
“I understand.” Each word echoed my own sentiments. I had arranged to have a night with him because I needed to forge ahead of today and look toward my future. The mantel clock ticked down the seconds, and a light pattering of rain hitting the window added to the intimacy of the room.
“I suppose I am overreacting a bit.” She reached over and laid her palm on my wrist. With a tilt of her head, she seemed to make up her mind. “Regardless, I will pay a call on Oliver tomorrow and see how his grandmother fares. Will you come with me?”
“If you wish.” I rested my elbow on my chair arm and met her regard.
Face to face, I realized my mistake the second her eyes dropped to my mouth.
Our conversation centered on her engagement, which was not an unusual topic for us.
The big difference was our intimate setting.
A servant could enter the room at any moment.
Except my valet had been given the night off.
There would be no reason that another servant would enter unless I called them.
This left me alone with Amelia.
Pretty, appealing, charming Amelia.
A woman I was finding very hard to resist.