Chapter Twelve
Amelie had expected awkwardness. Lord Beescroft—Will—was normally courteous but formal, with every word he uttered carefully measured and thought out.
It had taken weeks of living together under the same roof for him to shed some of that formality with her, so it was a surprise when he exhibited such ease with the children.
As they made their way to the quieter areas of Hyde Park it was as if he’d become another person. The smile on Will’s face as Charles raced back and forth, gathering any little curiosity he could find to show him, was wide and genuine and he did not seem to tire of the little boy’s chatter.
He won Harriet over almost immediately by offering her his arm as if she were a lady of the aristocracy, and even Marie warmed to him as he spoke to her like an equal, asking questions and listening carefully to the young girl’s answers.
Amelie was content to revel in the children’s happiness.
She could remember the carefree days before they had lost their home, taking Harriet and Marie out for long adventures in the countryside, seeing their faces light up as they hopped over streams and made castles out of the fallen branches in the woods.
Charles had always begged to come along on those outings and Amelie wished more than anything that she could give him those happy memories now.
He’d been so little when they had lost their mother, barely more than a baby.
That was when Amelie’s life had started to change, although she had not begrudged the need to look after her younger kinsfolk.
She’d tried to give them the same experiences their mother had given to her when she’d been a child: swimming in the heat of summer in the local pond; long games of hide and seek in the vast gardens and woodland that surrounded the manor house; even starting cooking lessons for Marie and Harriet.
Amelie had treasured the time with her mother when she’d been young, even though she had been eccentric and prone to quick mood changes.
Their father was mostly uninterested. When she had been young he’d sometimes swung her up onto his shoulders whilst they’d gone for a stroll as a family, but he had not shown the same interest in his younger children.
When Amelie was feeling more generous she told herself it had been due to the grief of losing his wife, but in truth she knew the gentle neglect had started long before their mother had passed away.
Mr Somersham had been a selfish man, and the only person he had ever truly cared for was his wife.
They stuck to the quieter paths, both silently acknowledging the need for discretion.
Will’s social position meant he was one of the most recognisable men in London, and the gossip would be uncontrollable if the wrong person saw him out with a young woman and three scruffily dressed children.
Most would not know what to make of their strange group, but some would assume something scandalous was occurring.
Amelie did not want Will’s kindness to smear his reputation.
Slowly, as the morning progressed, Amelie found herself relaxing. The children were happier out in the fresh air, more relaxed than when they had to stay cooped up in Mrs Creedy’s set of rooms. Before long all three were running across the grass, laughing and chasing one another.
‘Thank you,’ Amelie said as she and Will dropped into step beside one another.
‘I have done nothing except escort you to the park.’
‘That is not true. I was ready to shout and rail at Mrs Creedy, to ruin the arrangement we have. It would have been a disaster. I doubt she would have forgiven me and then Marie, Harriet and Charles would not have anywhere to live.’
‘They are lovely children; you should be proud.’
‘I cannot claim the praise. I was not the one to raise them.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘At least, not Marie and Harriet. Our mother was alive until Marie was five and Harriet four.’
‘And since then it has been you providing all the love and care and attention they need.’
‘I suppose. I always feel I should be doing better by them.’
‘You should not punish yourself. It is a terrible situation, one not of your own making. There are some that would have looked to their own future and sent their kin to an orphanage. Not many people would sacrifice as you do to give them a chance of staying together as a family.’
‘I could not bear the thought of them being separated.’ Amelie felt the familiar heaviness in her chest at the thought.
When it had become clear they would lose the house, she had sat down and tried to come up with a number of solutions.
One of the families in the village had offered to take in Marie, to finish her schooling and then train her as a maid, but Amelie had refused, not wanting her sisters to be separated.
Sometimes she wondered if she had done the right thing.
‘Come, do not think of the hard times this morning. They are happy to have you back with them and you deserve to revel in that happiness.’ He reached out instinctively for her hand, stopping only as their fingertips brushed together.
It might be quiet here in the park, but it would still be foolish to do anything that might be seen as intimate.
‘You are right, of course. Today I should just enjoy their company.’
They were silent for a while, watching the children play happily. It was a contented silence and Amelie had to acknowledge how at ease she felt in Will’s company.
‘There is quite a gap between you,’ he said, not pushing for information, but she could see the curiosity in his eyes.
‘There is,’ Amelie said with a sad smile.
‘For many years I did not think I would be blessed with brothers or sisters.’ She fell silent, wondering how best to explain things delicately.
‘After my mother gave birth to me, she lost three more children in very quick succession—all born dead without any reason. Her pregnancies had been healthy, normal, but none of the babies ever took a breath.’
‘How awful.’
‘It was; although I was too young to remember, I could see the sadness in my parents whenever they talked about it. My mother in particular was horribly affected by it and became quite melancholy. For all his faults, my father loved my mother dearly, and he saw she could not withstand another loss. I do not wish to know what precautions they took, but he ensured there were no more pregnancies.’
‘Then one slipped through?’
‘Yes. Beautiful Marie. She was born healthy and screaming, despite my parents’ fears.
After that, there was no stopping them. I think they would have carried on having children until it became impossible if my mother had not fallen ill.
’ Amelie gave a sad smile. ‘Sometimes I envy my brother and sisters’ closeness and companionship, but mostly I am just grateful they are here. I love them as if they are my own.’
‘And it is clear they love you dearly too.’
There were tears in Amelie’s eyes as she nodded. ‘I just wish…’ she said, trailing off before staring off into the distance. She wanted to give them a better life, a more stable life.
Will must have seen she needed a distraction, something to stop her from dwelling on the awful conditions back at Mrs Creedy’s house, so he motioned for the children to come over.
‘Marie, Harriet, Charles,’ he called out, waiting for the three children to run back to him, chests heaving with the exertion and cheeks pink. ‘I think I promised you an ice each. Shall we go and choose flavours?’
Their eyes widened at the idea of such a treat and Amelie felt her heart swell once again.
The parlour on the edge of the park was busy, but Will found them seats tucked away from prying eyes somewhere near the back.
Patiently he went through all the possible flavours with each child in turn until they had made their selection, and then placed an order with one of the young women serving.
Harriet kept looking over her shoulder, impatient for their ices to arrive, and Charles was bobbing up and down on his seat.
For a moment Amelie allowed herself to imagine this was her life.
It was a dangerous path to go down, and could only make her crave what she could not have more than she already did.
Yet once it would not have been completely out of the question.
If she had married a country gentleman as had been the plan, she would have had a comfortable life, even if it might have been a little dull.
What was more, her brother and sisters would have been safe, well looked after and perhaps even treated to something like an ice every once in a while.
She dug her fingernails into her hand to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes.
Their life was so different from what it could have been.
Yet she found she could not yearn for marriage to Mr Michael Milliner—the man she had been engaged to before he had disappeared at the first hint of their troubles.
She glanced up at Will, amazed at how he had so quickly worked out exactly how to talk to each of her kin.
He was polite and formal with Marie, not pressing her to be more familiar than she was comfortable with.
He recognised her need to be treated as an equal and spoke to her softly, but with the same words he would use with an adult.
With Harriet, he was more relaxed, making the little girl laugh at his jokes.
Harriet, always trusting and eager to be liked, was half in love with the Duke already.
With Charles, he took his time, not rushing the little five-year-old when he spoke, listening carefully.
Too often Charles was pushed into the background by his sisters, who were older and more eloquent, and he was relishing the attention.
As the ices were brought out in their delicate glass bowls, everyone around the table fell silent. He had ordered one for her too, a delicious looking pale-yellow scoop that had a sharp, biting flavour.