Chapter Thirteen
Lord Oliver, Duke of Hayesford
Grandmama adjusted the shawl over her narrow shoulders, her color ashen in the dull light from the dreary day.
The illness sapped her energy, but she’d insisted on joining me in the drawing room.
I lowered The Strand in my hand and paused in reading the works of Mr. Arthur Conan Doyle.
By the steady rise and fall of her chest, she’d fallen asleep.
“Don’t stop, boy,” she said in a reedy voice, heavy lids revealing her pale blue eyes. She’d been both grandparent and parent since my own had passed. The doctor’s current prognosis hadn’t been positive, and it pained me to believe I might lose my grandmother.
“Sorry, I—”
A knock at the door preceded the entrance of the butler. “Beg pardon your graces. Lord Peterson and Lady Amelia Brimley would like to know if you are in,” the butler said.
Amelia and Noah were here? Excitement and trepidation hit me at once. I had canceled on both of them, albeit for a good reason. Assured that Grandmama looked better than she had this morning, I set aside the magazine. “You can put them in the green drawing room. I shall attend them there,” I said.
“Nonsense, bring them in here.” Grandmama waved a frail hand at the retainer. Using her cane for leverage, she straightened in her seat before replacing the polished wood to its customary place by her side.
“Grandmama, you are unwell. Visitors will be too much for you.” She’d begged off the Queen’s dinner, which meant her illness was serious.
“I will decide whether I am too ill or not. Samson, bring our guests in. It is near teatime, so fetch some refreshments,” Grandmama said. The brooding look she cast me brooked no disobedience.
“Very good, my lady,” Samson said, forever stoic.
“It will be pleasant to see Amelia again, cheeky lass that she is.” Grandmama adjusted the tartan blanket on her lap.
Blue veins showed under the freckled skin of her hand, a large ruby ring on her middle finger.
Rumor had it that the ring once belonged to Queen Elizabeth I, a cousin on my father’s side.
As the eleventh Duke of Hayesford, the ring would be passed down to my wife.
Amelia. The earlier tension returned. I still needed to ask for her hand before the week was out.
Samson returned with the couple trailing behind him. My heart in my throat, I took in the sight of her familiar visage, trying to gauge her mood. She had every right to be upset with me, and from the downward tilt of her mouth, she was. I swallowed the rush of dread. I never meant to hurt Amelia.
Noah acted as her escort, the dapper brown tweed suit flattering his lean build. His dark hair was combed to the side. The bright smile he offered the second our eyes locked lightened my heavy heart. My grandmother might be sick, but she was still with me.
“Your grace, I heard you were ill. I pray you are well,” Amelia said, breaking away from Noah and rushing to my grandmother’s side.
The two got along swimmingly, which was yet another reason to make her my wife.
Amelia barely acknowledged me, which meant she was in a snit.
She had every right to be upset, but my grandmother’s health took precedence.
I shot to my feet and held out my hand to Noah, clasping his outstretched one. Our palms connected, a rush of heat racing right into my core. “Lord Noah, thank you for escorting Amelia here.”
“She was worried about Lady Gwendolyn.” He squeezed my hand before he withdrew his. He turned to my grandmother and offered a bow. “Lady Gwendolyn, thank you for receiving us.”
“I always have time for the future Duchess of Hayesford and her charming brother-in-law,” she said, sitting upright in her seat.
Color touched her cheeks, and a spark of life returned to her frail frame.
She patted Amelia’s hand, a militant gleam in her shrewd stare.
“Have you decided on a wedding date yet?” she asked Amelia.
Amelia stiffened and snapped her head around to look at me, her eyes wide.
I stifled a groan at Grandmama’s inappropriate comment. But she was a duchess and answered to no one but God and the Queen.
“I, um, no your grace. Oliver and I are not engaged.” Amelia spoke in a low tone, glancing from Noah to me. Chilliness oozed from her eyes as they met mine. Yes, indeed, she was in a snit. The ever-present guilt hit me, and I swallowed.
“Yes, the boy has a tendency to drag his heels.” Grandmama frowned and exhaled a long breath. She tilted her head and met my regard, her own full of regret. “I’m afraid my time is running out.”
A sickly sensation twisted my stomach, and I shook my head in denial. “Grandmama, don’t—”
“It is a reality, Oliver. I am dying and wish to see my grandson marry before I pass.” She offered me an encouraging nod.
Amelia’s sharp intake of breath cut through the room, and she slapped her hand over her mouth, tears brightening her eyes. All traces of anger disappeared at the revelation. “You mustn’t say such things. You have many good years ahead of you.”
She patted Amelia’s hand. “No, my dear, I don’t. Time loses all meaning to the young, but when you get to be my age, you have more of it behind than ahead of you. It is my greatest wish to see Oliver wed to you. Surely you will indulge me in this and say yes to his offer?”
“If he chooses to give it of his own free will, else no.” A sudden tension hung in the air after her leading comment.
Grandmama knew the situation and was trying to force me into compliance.
Everything inside me rebelled at being pushed, yet I had to face the inevitable.
Amelia was my dearest friend, and I hated to see her in pain.
My mind made up, I rushed to her side. Taking her hand, I offered her a strained smile. “Amelia, will you do the honor of becoming my duchess?”
“You needn’t feel obligated,” she said, eyes downcast and voice strained.
Noah cleared his throat, and Amelia glanced at him, frowned, and then returned her gaze to mine.
“It is a privilege.” In a way, I was the most fortunate of men. She was pretty, smart, and we got along well. Marriages of my station were based on less. I pulled her close, and cognizant of the others watching, I placed an affectionate kiss on her temple. “Please say yes.”
She tilted her chin, her mouth parted. “Yes.”
Grandmama clapped her hands. “This calls for a celebration. What say you, Lord Noah?”
“I agree wholeheartedly.” He clasped me on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.
He’d been my champion, and I was glad for his support.
If we were alone, I would have been bold and kissed him.
My face flamed, and I willed my physical reaction back.
We weren’t alone, and Amelia had an uncanny knack for reading my mind.
I had to trust that Noah was right and that I could perform on our wedding night.
“Lord Noah, please take a seat.” I indicated he take the chair near me. If things continued like this with my grandmother, I would have no choice but to cancel my tryst with him. “When the butler returns, I’ll order some champagne to celebrate.”
Amelia perched on the chair beside my grandmother, a flattering blush staining her cheeks.
The charcoal walking ensemble nipped in her slender waist and emphasized the curve of her hips.
A rush of pride encompassed my chest. I might have reservations about my own performance, but I would be proud to call her my wife.
“Thank you,” he said, doing as I asked.
“How are the boys?” Lady Gwendolyn said. Age lined her eyes, and the mobcap hid her thinning hair. No matter her weakened state, she had a strong spirit. Her declaration had brought home how fragile she was.
“Growing more each day, Ethan has excelled at his numbers and will be a genius, I am sure of it,” Noah said with a good-natured laugh, one hand gripping the arm of his chair. The skin of his wrist was exposed, a cushion of dark hair revealed, and I longed to take his hand in mine.
“You are blessed to have three sons. I pray Oliver and Amelia are as fortunate.” She reached across and squeezed Amelia’s wrist. Affection resonated from her.
I was glad she liked Amelia. It was in direct contrast to Lady Ellen, who found fault in most things her daughter did.
“Now that the engagement is out of the way, I think we should discuss the wedding plans.”
“Grandmama, I am sure Amelia will need to consult with her mother on such matters.” I didn’t wish to rush Amelia. Marriage was inevitable, but engagements often stretched into years. From what my grandmother said, we no longer had the luxury of time.
“Lady Ellen and I already had thirteen years to discuss the details. A month should be enough time to plan an intimate ceremony, although I daresay it might be too long.” Grandmama frowned before she offered a sad smile. “A special license can be procured from my brother.”
My great-uncle was an archbishop who adored my grandmother and would do whatever she asked. She was loved by many people both inside and outside the family. It was through her guidance that I learned how to perform my duties. She had faith in me, and I didn’t wish to let her down.
“A month?” Amelia asked in a tight voice, staring hard at Noah. The tension she’d carried since she entered the room remained. Something was bothering her. She wasn’t particularly good at hiding her emotions in the best of circumstances. Like me, I could only guess she was overwhelmed.
“You needn’t commit to anything right now,” Noah said in a gentle tone. He nodded, one hand gripping the arm of his chair.
“Indeed, you are right.” Amelia stared at him with a fevered expression, a hint of some strong emotion making me suspicious. Had she been intimate with Noah? She certainly seemed enamored of him. The way I was enamored of him.
The realization sent a rush of laughter to my throat. I tamped it down. He was a very sensual man who both of us found attractive. I liked him, but she’d be my wife. A surge of possessiveness hit me, along with remorse. Noah wasn’t mine to have. As my wife, Amelia and I would be bonded for life.
“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t dare rush you,” Grandmama said. “I am dying. I wish to see my grandson wed. Please, Oliver, indulge me in this.”
All traces of amusement left me in a wave. My grandmother was sick, and I was lusting after Noah and Amelia.
“Lady Gwendolyn is right. I think it would behoove us to wed at the end of June. I will speak to my mother, and we will get it done,” Amelia said in a quiet voice barely above a whisper. She’d also been fond of my grandmother, and the two women had a mutual respect for each other.
A light of triumph enhanced my grandmother’s familiar smile.
She had a habit of pushing things along until she got her way.
Was her illness a front to manipulate me?
Guilt encompassed my entire being. The ashen hue of her skin told its own story.
Grandmama would never fake an injury simply to get her way.
“You are a dear girl, Amelia, one I will gladly call family,” Grandmama said.
“Thank you.” Amelia wiped a knuckle at the corner of her eye, still not looking at me.
She was upset, and with good reason. I hadn’t asked for her hand in the best of circumstances.
Had things played out differently, I would have called on her yesterday.
The damage was done, and we were engaged, which was what we’d wanted from the start.
With a twinkling grin, Grandmama nudged my arm. She was pleased to no end by what she’d instigated. “Now I think I will go lie down. Oliver, see your fiancée home and make your formal announcement to her family.”
“Yes, Grandmama.” If her remaining time in this world was short, I would do everything in my power to grant her last wish.
My duty to my title and my marriage to Amelia depended on it.
She was my best friend and the woman I loved.
I had lost sight of that in my pursuit of Noah. I couldn’t lose sight of that again.