Chapter Nine
‘You are worrying far too much about consequences that will never affect you,’ Edward Leopold said as he and Will walked through the courtyard together. It was a glorious day, the sun shining brightly in a sky of unbroken blue with not a single cloud in sight.
Will had known Leopold since his undergraduate days.
They had studied botany together, but when the rest of the students had left to pursue their lives Leopold had stayed ensconced in academia, pursing further knowledge until he’d been granted a position as a tutor at the university.
Leopold had been instrumental in arranging this opportunity for Will, encouraging him to pursue his dream of writing and illustrating a book on the flora and fauna of Great Britain.
It was Leopold who had arranged the introductions to the two professors who were being so helpful, guiding him on his writing project, and Leopold who had arranged with the Master of Peterhouse to allow Will to come and study over the summer months when many of the university students would have left and lectures completed for the academic year.
After days of being withdrawn and less productive than usual, Leopold had hauled Will from the library and suggested they do a few laps around the college’s courtyard and gardens. In an uncharacteristic fit of talkativeness, Will had admitted what had occurred between Amelie and him.
‘You are the Duke of Ashmead,’ Leopold continued. ‘You could ravish half of Cambridge and everyone would forgive you.’
Will grimaced. He had always been acutely aware of the moral latitude his position in society gave him and had worked hard not to abuse it. He did not wish to start now.
‘You have an unattached, pretty young woman in your service who, by your account, responded positively when you kissed her.’ He shrugged, ‘Most men would take advantage of the situation and invite her to their bed for a few months.’
Will didn’t bother pointing out that he hoped most men would be a little more honourable than that.
‘There is such a disparity in our social standing. I would be abusing my power if I allowed anything else to happen.’
Leopold scoffed. ‘Only if she didn’t want it. Not all young women are innocents. Some wish to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh just as much as men.’
Will shook his head, wishing he had never been so foolish as to confide in Leopold about his turmoil.
He felt as if he was going mad. Every time he’d seen Amelie these last few days, he had felt the familiar swell of desire, the urge to kiss her again, to run his hands over her body.
Yet they were acting so stiffly, so formally, it was as if their intimacy had never happened.
At the time, with Leopold listening carefully, Will had thought that perhaps unburdening himself would help, but now it was clear he and his friend did not share the same values, so his advice was not helpful in the least.
‘For all you know, this housemaid of yours is waiting for you to act, eager to be given the role of your mistress for the next few months.’
Will shook his head, thinking of Amelie’s endearing innocence.
He knew of her past, of her role as daughter of a country gentleman.
She had told him of the fiancé who had abandoned her when the family’s financial troubles had become apparent.
Of course, he did not know every moment of her history, but he felt that he knew her.
Judging by way she had talked of her fiancé’s betrayal and the forced move to London, he was certain she did not have a string of secret lovers in her past.
He thought of her gentle smile, of the way she tilted her head when he was speaking, how she really listened to what he was saying.
There was no one else in his life with whom he felt comfortable speaking they way he did Amelie.
It was both liberating and comforting in equal measure and he realised this was what it felt like to have a confidante, someone to whom he could talk about the important things, knowing they would not judge but only listen.
Will was loath to admit how lonely he had been the last year, but for the first time in many months he’d felt that loneliness melt away.
Amelie saw him, the true man behind the title.
She did not care for his status, power or influence; she did not want to speak to him to ask him to do something for her.
It was wonderful to have someone interested just in him.
‘Just think about it. A pretty young thing there to make your breakfast every morning and warm your bed at night. You would be a fool to say no.’
Will clasped Leopold on the arm, realising if he did not leave soon he might say something that irrevocably ruined their friendship. Leopold was only voicing the same opinion many men had, but Will did not wish to listen to it any longer.
‘I think I will eschew work for the rest of the day and enjoy the sunshine,’ he said, giving a nod filled with an air of finality and striding away before Leopold could object. No doubt his friend would think he was going home to ravish his housemaid, but that could not be helped.
The thought prompted an image of Amelie, dressed just in her chemise, as she had been when he’d pulled her from the river. He thought of the curves of her body visible under the material, made almost translucent by the river water.
Letting out a groan as he walked quickly through the gates of Peterhouse, he wondered if he was going to be subjected to this torture for the next three months.
Amelie was always in his mind. Every time she leaned over him to place his dinner plate, he caught a hint of her alluring scent; every time she caught his eye, she gave him that little smile that drove him wild.
She wasn’t trying to be seductive; he was sure of it.
In fact, she had done everything she could to stay out of his way these last few days.
He already missed the easy companionship that had started to develop between them.
As someone who prided himself on his practicality, his ability to focus on what was needed rather than what he wanted, it was hard to admit that he had been lonely.
He didn’t like to think of his emotions, but ever since Catherine’s death he had been lonely.
With her easy manner and genuine smiles, Amelie had made an impact on his life from a direction he was least expecting.
He wanted that back. If he was completely honest with himself, what he really wanted was exactly what Leopold had suggested: three months of Amelie, mind and body.
He wanted to stroll along the riverbank hand in hand and then tumble into bed together.
It was a ridiculous notion, but he wanted that closeness, that intimacy. He wanted her to be his mistress.
He scoffed at the idea. Amelie had fallen on hard times, but she was still a respectable young woman. She had been scandalised by the kiss they had shared, convinced he was going to dismiss her and petrified for her future. He could not put her through that worry.
He briskly walked the familiar route down Trumpington Street to where he stabled Agamemnon whilst he was at Peterhouse. Even as he mounted and rode out of the city his mind was still fixed on Amelie. It was going to be a difficult three months or so.
After rubbing Agamemnon down, Will set him loose in the paddock next to the stables, closing the gate and watching his horse for a few minutes.
The horse had been a present from his parents when he’d gone to Eton for the first time.
Agamemnon was getting older now and soon he would not be able to cope with more strenuous demands upon him.
There was a lovely paddock at his property in Yorkshire, and Will planned one day to settle his beloved horse there, but he could not quite bear to part with him yet.
The walk back to the cottage only took a few minutes, but he paused outside before entering, steeling himself for the encounter with Amelie.
Inside, the cottage was quiet and clean as usual.
Amelie worked hard and kept his little home spotless, a haven of serenity to come home to.
There were always fresh flowers cut from the garden and arranged in vases, a little touch he had not thought he would appreciate, but which made him smile every time he saw them.
At first he wondered if Amelie was out, although she was normally careful to lock the door and close the windows if she ventured far; then he heard her voice, singing softly to herself, coming from the back garden.
He did not wish to impose, but her voice drew him towards her like a siren’s song. It was impossible to ignore, impossible to resist. Silently he stepped out into the garden, catching sight of Amelie sitting with her back to him at the little table and chairs.
She was singing in French, a sweet, melodic tune that he did not recognise. No doubt it was one she had learned from her mother when young, and she sang it almost absent-mindedly now, as if she was hardly aware of what she was doing.
As he moved outside, he saw she was concentrating hard on a little drawing in front of her.
He felt a rush of affection as he realised it was a drawing of a fox, the illustration that had plagued him with its difficulty.
Here she was drawing her own, sketching the lines of its tail carefully, ensuring everything was in proportion.
Will wanted to stand and watch her, to listen to the French song and see what she produced on the piece of paper, but he knew she would not like to observed without her knowledge.
‘That’s beautiful,’ he said softly, not wanting to startle her.
She looked up, warmth in her eyes before she became more guarded again. He wished he could banish that second reaction; there was something heartwarming about the way she looked at him before she remembered she was supposed to be keeping her distance.
Amelie moved to slide the paper away, but he reached out a hand to stop her.
‘It is only a little sketch. I did not even know if you needed the drawing still.’
He sat down opposite her and took the piece of paper.
‘This is much better than I could do. You capture something special in the fox—a hint that this animal is a predator despite its beautiful appearance.’
‘I am glad you like it.’
‘I do. I would like to use this in my book, Amelie. There is a whole chapter dedicated to the land-based predators and I think this would look good on the first page.’ He let his eyes drift over the picture.
It really was excellent. He could draw plants and flowers well, but he struggled more with animals, finding it hard to get their proportions right.
‘Perhaps if you have time you might help me with a few other drawings.’
‘I would like to help,’ Amelie said, a look of enthusiasm on her face.
He realised how monotonous her life must seem now.
Not for the first time, he wondered how he would cope if he were told he could no longer spend his leisure time reading books and riding out on his horse, but instead would have to work in a demanding physical job that swallowed up any sense of freedom.
‘I will make a list and show you the style of the other pictures I have completed. I know my otter leaves something to be desired, as does my field mouse.’
‘Then I will begin there, when I have a spare moment in between chores.’
‘Thank you, Amelie,’ he said.
She inhaled sharply at his use of her given name and for a moment a throb of desire passed between them. It would be so easy to reach out across the table, to take her hand in his own and convince her that one more kiss could not harm anyone.
He did not move. It would go against his every principle, even though Amelie was looking at him with an expression that he was sure matched his own. She might desire him superficially, but there’d be nothing for her but ruin if they pursued their attraction.
Even so, for the first time in his life he felt the urge to discard his duty and his respectability, do exactly what he wanted and damn the consequences.
The thought caught him completely by surprise.
His whole personality, his whole being, was tied in to his sense of duty and responsibility.
Every decision he had made over the past decade, save for this trip to Cambridge at the behest of his sister, had been with these values at the forefront of his mind.
Even to have a fleeting thought about choosing his own pleasure over duty was monumental.
Amelie stood, smoothing down her skirt. ‘I must finish packing for our journey to London,’ she said, disappearing into the house.
Will watched her go, wondering how he was going to survive the long hours cooped up in a carriage with a woman he wanted to ravish every time he looked at her.