Chapter Seven
The light had faded too much for Will to be able to concentrate on his drawings, so instead he had put his sketch book aside and focussed on planning the next chapter of the book.
This was what he had spent the day discussing with two of the professors at Peterhouse.
He valued their insight into his work, but they both had different ideas on how much of his book to dedicate to each subject area.
Professor Grafton favoured the idea of a comprehensive overview of all native species of flora and fauna, which would be a great reference, but would not allow for any great detail of the plants and animals Will described.
Professor Leigh preferred a different approach.
He advocated a book that mentioned many of the species, but focussed on a select few, allowing the reader to understand the habitats and feeding patterns of the animals included as well as the conditions needed for the various plant species to grow.
Will had settled on a compromise, although his compromise leaned more towards Professor Grafton’s opinion.
He wanted his book to be the reference for the flora and fauna of Great Britain.
For it to achieve that status, he would need it to be comprehensive.
Every plant and animal would need to be included.
To break up the repetitive format a little, he had decided that, as well as a comprehensive look at the plants and animals, he would have half a dozen small sections dedicated to looking at some of the most impressive in more depth.
When daydreaming, he mused about writing a second book, this one taking his favourite plant and animal species and allowing a whole chapter for each, but he had to remind himself his time was not unlimited.
Soon the real world would start calling and he would not have time for indulging his passions any longer.
Although it had been his choice to come to Cambridge, he had not expected to enjoy his stay here quite as much as he was.
Part of that he knew was due to Amelie. He thought of their walk together by the river back to Grantchester earlier that afternoon.
He had not planned to divulge so much about his reasons for being here or his grief over losing his sister, but there was something about Amelie that made him want to talk.
Unlike most people, she truly listened to what he was saying, but there was more to it than that.
She was gentle in her manner, asking questions in an unassuming way that made it easy to talk.
So often he felt people only wanted to see the Duke of Ashmead, the facade he put on for parliament and society; it was refreshing to talk to someone who did not care about any of that and only wanted to see the man underneath.
There was a soft but insistent knock on is door and he stood quickly, pleased at the interruption for once.
Amelie stood outside, her face alight with excitement.
‘Come quickly, Your Grace, I have something to show you.’
Will turned back to blow out the candle he had been working by. It was dusk, so not dark enough to need extra illumination to move around the cottage, but he had needed the additional light to write.
‘Please hurry,’ Amelie said, reaching out and grabbing his hand. As their fingers met Will felt his skin fizz and tingle at the contact.
It was an entirely inappropriate gesture, one he could not imagine any of his other servants ever thinking of making, but Amelie did not even seem to notice.
Her hand was warm and soft, despite all the manual labour, and as she pulled him towards the stairs he had the thought that he didn’t want her to let go.
He had been valiantly trying to deny the attraction he felt every time he looked at her, but in the small space they shared it was difficult to avoid it.
Will swallowed, trying to keep control of himself, looking down at her hand in his. It was only a hand, nothing more, nothing scandalous, but even this minor contact had his body on edge and his mind in a muddle.
‘What is so urgent, Amelie?’ he said, trying to keep his voice level as their bodies collided as she paused at the top of the stairs.
‘Will you trust me?’
He was taken aback by the question, but found himself nodding anyway.
‘I want you to see something beautiful.’
Still holding his hand, she led him downstairs, pausing at the bottom, only to press a finger against her lips as she looked back at him. Then she was off again, pulling him towards the kitchen and then out of the back door of the cottage.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The moon was just starting to rise and the sky was not yet completely dark; there was still a blue tinge that hinted at the day that was fading away.
There was a little terraced area where a small table and pair of chairs sat just to the side of the back door, and then the rest of the garden was laid to lawn.
Around the edge was a border of flowers and closer to the river there were a couple of medium-sized trees.
It was to one of these trees that Amelie directed his attention.
He could see movement and, as they crept closer, he was amazed to realise there were three foxes eating something off the ground.
Amelie still had not released his hand and Will could not be the one to break contact, even as they came to a standstill.
‘I’ve been leaving some scraps out for a few nights now and watching,’ Amelie whispered, her lips close to his ear.
He felt a shiver run through his body and had to suppress the urge to reach out and pull her to him.
It was entirely inappropriate. He was her master, and there was a gulf of social standing between them, but even so he found it hard to ignore her.
There was something captivating about Amelie and, as hard as he tried, he could not control his body’s response to her.
‘I thought it might help with your drawings.’
‘You did this for me?’ His voice was gruff and low; even to his ears it sounded different, foreign.
She looked up at him. They were standing close, so close he could smell the sweet scent of her. He wanted to reach out and touch the silky softness of her hair, to allow his fingers to trail over the skin of her neck, to drop lower…
He swallowed and his eyes snapped up; that way ruin lay. He was a gentleman, and had always prided himself on being a decent man. Not the sort of person who gave in to desire and seduced his maid. Yet…
‘I think it is a mother and her two cubs,’ Amelie whispered, not answering his question. ‘Look how she ensures they are fed before taking her own food.’
He was aware of every movement of Amelie’s body beside his. It took all his self-control not to groan as her arm brushed against his, all his resolve to keep his eyes fixed on the foxes as he sensed her close.
‘If you are still having trouble with the foxes, or any of the animals, I would be happy to…’
He spun to face her, the movement startling her and cutting off her words. They were face to face, only inches apart, her eyes expectantly raised to his. His gaze flickered to her lips and he imagined the softness, the sweetness, of her kiss and he felt himself swaying in.
He quickly took a step back, trying to break the spell, but even at a distance the pull between them was undeniable.
‘I’m sorry, Your Grace,’ Amelie said. ‘I did not mean to offend you.’ She looked perplexed, upset even, but he did not have the words to explain why he was acting so strangely without admitting he could not stand close to her or there was a risk he would ravish her on the lawn behind the cottage.
‘You have not offended me,’ he said. The best thing for him to do would be walk away.
To thank her for her kindness in thinking of him, trying to help him overcome his difficulties in drawing the fox for his work, then quickly move somewhere he could not see her, could not smell her, could not reach out and touch her.
She stepped closer and Will had to work hard not to retreat backwards. She was still speaking softly, conscious of the foxes only a few feet away.
‘Is something amiss, Your Grace?’ There was such kindness in her eyes, such sincerity in her voice, that Will found his resolve slipping.
He did not want to upset her, and storming off for no reason would certainly be a cruel move, especially when everything she had done this evening had been motivated by kindness.
He would have to trust himself. He knew what was right and what was wrong; all he needed to do was stick to his morals.
He was saved from answering by the biggest of the three foxes looking up and giving a sharp bark.
The two cubs responded immediately, grabbing hold of the last of the food in their jaws and then returning to their mother’s side.
With a last look in the direction of the cottage, the foxes turned and scampered away, disappearing into the darkness without another sound.
‘They’re beautiful,’ Amelie said, her eyes shining.
‘They are.’ Will took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep looking off into the darkness. It felt like torture to have her stand so close, to know he could reach out and touch her, but also to know he shouldn’t.
‘Do you think it will help, with your drawings?’
‘I think it will,’ he said simply, feeling her eyes upon him.
He wondered if she felt any of the turmoil he did.
On the banks of the river earlier that morning, he’d thought he detected a hint of attraction in her eyes, and when he had emerged from Peterhouse this afternoon she had blushed as if she’d been both pleased and a little embarrassed to see him.
It doesn’t matter, he told himself silently. It would not matter if she was indifferent to him or if she felt this same flicker of attraction. His actions needed to be the same no matter what.
‘And, if not, am I to understand you would not mind lending your skilled hand to the project?’
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her pull an odd face.