Chapter Two #2
David pulled out a piece of paper and began composing his own list. Instead of writing seven names, he divided the paper in half and wrote Inappropriate Men and Appropriate Men. He might as well be honest with Miss Andrews.
He wrote Lord Lisford’s name beneath Inappropriate Men and beside it: a rake and a wastrel.
Beneath him, he listed the names of several fortune hunters.
Last, he wrote his own name upon the Inappropriate Men list. Beside it, he wrote: too old for you.
He was three-and-thirty now. Although there were marriages between old men and young ladies, the true reason was that he’d known Amelia since she was sixteen.
It made him feel like a satyr to be intrigued by such a young, fresh-faced girl.
When David started on the Appropriate Men list, he paused. While there were many gentlemen who were responsible and had strong fortunes, none were what Amelia would consider appealing. Even so, he wrote down their names and sealed the note with a bit of wax.
Her open letter seemed to taunt him, and he folded it up. Who was he trying to fool? He hadn’t been able to even enter his wife’s room within this town house since she’d died so long ago. Presumably the servants had gone inside to clean it.
He had to stop living like a recluse and face the truth. This had gone on long enough.
David left the study and climbed the staircase leading to the bedchambers. His wife’s room was beside his, but he’d kept the adjoining door securely locked. This time, he stood in front of her door, in the hallway. The knob was cool beneath his fingers, but it turned easily.
Inside, the room was shadowed and dark from the closed shutters. David crossed over to the window and opened it, letting the sunlight stream over the dusty furnishings. Katherine hadn’t come to London often, but sometimes he’d cajoled her into a visit.
Her bed had the same rose coverlet he’d teased her about—a little girl’s covers, not those of a grown woman.
The chair closest to the hearth was where she’d spent hours reading.
Upon the floor rested a familiar stack of books.
He picked up the first title, remembering the way she had loved to curl up with a blanket and read late at night.
She’d been reading The Life and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.
A folded piece of paper marked the place where she’d left off.
David opened it, and saw the shaky handwriting of Christine.
His daughter had written: I LUV MAMA in large block print letters.
Below it, she’d drawn a picture of herself with an enormous head and a body that resembled a potato.
The rush of emotion caught him low in the gut. His daughter had lived the past six years without a mother. She likely had very few memories of Katherine. David fingered the childish drawing and let out a deep breath.
“What should I do, Katherine?” he murmured. “Christine needs a new mother.”
The thought of replacing his wife was impossible to consider. He tried to imagine what sensible Katherine would say.
Think of our daughter, not yourself.
He set the book down on the stack and folded the drawing to put in his waistcoat pocket. You can do this, he told himself. Just choose a name from the list of women. Pick someone who would be good for Christine.
His own needs didn’t matter.
In that light, he returned to the list Amelia had sent. Surely some of them would fit his requirements for a mother for Christine. As for himself, he had a prosperous estate and a title. Wasn’t that enough to win the heart of one of them?
He walked to the door and glanced back at Katherine’s chair. For a time he studied it, trying to imagine her sitting with a book. But the image of her face was blurred from the years that had passed. It was harder to conjure the memory without a miniature before him.
“No one will replace you in my life,” he promised her ghost. “I swear it.”
When Amelia and Margaret arrived at their aunt Charlotte’s town house later that morning, Amelia was troubled by what she’d learned of Lady Sarah.
Though Margaret had insisted that Amelia should not worry about their enemy’s sister, she didn’t like the thought of a young woman being blamed for her brother’s actions.
Lord Strathland had indeed caused their family nightmares, but Lady Sarah had nothing to do with that.
The footman took their pelisses, and the butler greeted them. To Amelia, he said, “Miss Andrews, these arrived for you.” He held out two sealed notes and a small posy of lilies.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the notes and flowers.
The bundle of lilies held a heady aroma, and she opened the first note, feeling a rush of excitement when she saw that the flowers were from Lord Lisford.
She was careful to keep the name hidden from her sister, and then she unfolded the second note.
When she saw it was a list of appropriate and inappropriate men, she bit back a laugh.
So the earl did have a sense of humor, in spite of his melancholy nature.
“Who are the flowers from?” Margaret asked as they continued walking up the stairs.
Amelia waved the note at her. “I’ll show you when we’re alone.” She wanted to avoid any discussion regarding the earl until they reached their shared bedroom.
Once they were inside, she handed Lord Castledon’s note to Margaret. “See for yourself.” While her sister was busy reading through the names of appropriate and inappropriate men, Amelia saw that Viscount Lisford had also invited her to accompany him driving through the park in the morning.
She hid her smile, resisting the urge to spin around like a giddy adolescent. If she told Margaret about the second invitation, her sister would undoubtedly forbid it.
“Why would the Earl of Castledon recommend the names of gentlemen to you?” Margaret queried.
“Because I’ve agreed to help him find a suitable wife. He thought it would be amusing to send me a list of names in return.”
Margaret handed back the note and shrugged. “I suppose. But what was the other note?”
Amelia felt the color rise into her cheeks as she tried to act as if it were nothing. “Oh, it was an invitation to go out for a morning drive.”
Really, she had to learn how to hide her feelings. For she suspected Margaret could read the anticipation on her face, though she had only spoken the truth.
“From whom?” Her sister’s gaze narrowed, as if she already suspected the answer.
Amelia didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to tell the truth, either.
Her stomach tightened. Why did this have to be so difficult?
If only Margaret hadn’t been engaged to Lord Lisford, she could share her excitement without fear of hurting her sister’s feelings.
Instead, she had to choose her words carefully, as if stepping around shards of glass.
She stared at the note and offered, “The earl wants to discuss the ladies I’ve chosen for him.”
Which might be true, though it had nothing to do with the morning drive. It was the best she could manage.
“If the earl wrote both notes, then he would have written his invitation inside the same letter.” The narrowed gaze suggested that Margaret was well aware of the lie.
It was at times like these that Amelia wished she were better at hiding the truth. Instead, she shrugged and pretended as if it didn’t matter. “How should I know why there were two notes?”
“I think I should come along as your chaperone,” Margaret suggested. Because you’re lying to me, her gaze seemed to say.
There was only one way to avoid her sister’s interference, and Amelia seized it. “You could. Except, we’re probably going to discuss you, since I put your name down on the list for him. And that might be awkward.”
Her sister was aghast at the idea. “You had no right to put my name on any sort of list, Amelia. It’s humiliating, and I don’t need you to play matchmaker.”
And now Margaret would have little desire to chaperone.
Although it was exactly what she wanted, Amelia couldn’t hold back the guilt at lying to her sister.
She much preferred a straightforward approach.
But if she admitted that she wanted to get better acquainted with the viscount, Margaret wouldn’t hesitate to tell their parents.
It made her feel sixteen years old, all over again.
She took a deep breath, wanting to soothe her sister’s wounded feelings. “You’re unhappy,” Amelia said, softening her voice. “I know you want to be married and have a family of your own. Why not the earl?”
Margaret shook her head. “Lord Castledon is a kind man, but he’s not interested in me.”
“He could be, if you’d only try.” Amelia guided her to sit down. She studied Margaret’s severe updo and reached out to loosen several strands around her sister’s face. “You may be older, but so is he. He doesn’t want a young girl out of the schoolroom. He wants a woman.”
“I don’t know about that.” Her sister stared at the opposite wall. “He never looked at me before.”
“Only because you never gave him a chance. He’s a kind man, even if he is a bit too boring for my tastes.”
Liar, her conscience chided. You didn’t find him at all boring on the night when you danced with him.
She could never have imagined the strange response that his simple touch had awakened. If she could feel that way with a man who didn’t interest her, what would it be like to kiss a man she was in love with?
Heaven, she was certain. It would be Heaven with a capital H and angels singing.
“The earl would suit you perfectly,” Amelia said. “I believe that. And I’ll find out everything I can about him.”
Or, at least, she would when she spoke with him next. The less Margaret knew about this drive, the better.
“Take your maid along as a chaperone, and that will suffice,” her sister suggested.