Chapter Six #3
‘I respect your determination to honour your promise to your sister, and the awareness to understand that, although this is not what anyone else might choose, it is what would make you happy.’
They walked in silence for a minute and Amelie gazed out over the river.
The sun was glinting off its surface and she felt momentarily mesmerised by the beauty of it.
A couple of weeks ago, she couldn’t have imagined how her life would be here in Grantchester.
Of course, she missed the weekly visits to see her sisters and her brother, but other than that she felt a sense of contentment.
‘What happens after these four months?’ Amelie asked as Grantchester came into view in the distance.
Lord Beescroft sighed. ‘I return to my normal life, my duties, my seat in parliament…’ He paused, his expression darkening slightly. ‘And I get married.’
‘Just like that?’ Amelie said, a touch of teasing in her voice.
‘You may laugh, but you have to remember the marriage of a duke is more akin to a business arrangement than any courtship. There is a young woman, the daughter of a friend of my late father’s, who I have been informally tied to since adolescence.’
‘Is your marriage arranged already?’
‘Not quite. There is no binding contract; our fathers were not so cruel to give us no choice in the matter.’
‘So you could refuse this young woman if you wanted to?’
He considered for a moment before replying. ‘I could.’
‘But you won’t?’
He shrugged. ‘I have to marry a young woman from a suitable family—wealthy, well educated, ready to take on the roles and responsibilities of being a duchess… Lady Elizabeth Dreardon has been groomed for such a position since she was a child.’
‘I understand,’ Amelie said, thinking of her own engagement.
She had not been in love with the young gentleman who was to have been her husband.
Instead, he had offered her a way out of her father’s house, a sense of freedom.
Much of the reason she had chosen him had rested on his vocal opinions on the sin of gambling—she had wanted someone who would not fritter her future home away, as her father had frittered her childhood home and mother’s fortune.
It had been a poor choice, rushed because of her desperation to get away.
Amelie had not taken the time to understand that moral outrage on one subject such as gambling did not mean a man was morally upstanding in every way.
It had been a shock when he had refused to honour their betrothal, but now she could see it had been a lucky escape.
‘Do you know Lady Elizabeth well?’
‘Not really. Our paths have crossed at a few balls and soirees, but on the whole I think we try to avoid one another.’
Amelie raised an eyebrow.
The Duke laughed, surprising Amelie. She had been unsure if he had a sense of humour, but now she realised much of his abruptness came from a feeling of awkwardness.
He often did not know what to say or how to respond, but out here in the countryside, distracted by a walk along the river, his true personality shone through.
‘It is not as terrible as you assume. Lady Elizabeth has a limited time to enjoy her life as a debutante. I do not wish to spoil that. One day, we will finalise the details of our marriage and then, of course, we will spend some time together.’
‘I do not mean any disrespect to Lady Elizabeth, but what if you make your agreement official and then after find out you are ill-suited?’
He shrugged. ‘I have eight properties. I expect we will come up with a solution that is agreeable for everyone involved.’
‘So these truly are your four months of freedom,’ Amelie mused.
‘And this is how I choose to spend it.’ He motioned at the beautiful countryside around them, but his eyes lingered on Amelie for a moment, and she felt an unfamiliar fizz of excitement deep inside.
The path narrowed as they entered Grantchester itself and wound its way past a few pretty cottages before emerging out onto the main road through the village.
Amelie did not want the walk to end. She had enjoyed learning about the duke’s life, but more than that she had found herself surprisingly at ease in his company.
‘Thank you for carrying my basket all the way home,’ Amelie said as they reached the front door of the cottage.
‘And thank you for your company and conversation.’ He bowed to her as if she were his equal, before disappearing inside the house.
Amelie leaned against the doorframe, watching his retreating back, her thoughts slipping back to the morning in the river and that single moment when his eyes had held hers. She had wanted him to kiss her then, and she wondered if he had felt the same.
Quickly, she shook herself. He had been the perfect gentleman this afternoon; he was always the perfect gentleman.
She had to remind herself that Lord Beescroft opening up to her a little about his past did not mean there was any special bond between them.
No doubt he was lonely, still struggling with his grief, and Amelie was a convenient ear. There was nothing more to it than that.