Chapter Twenty-Four
The sky was only just beginning to pale when Amelie slipped silently from the cottage.
The air was damp and despite the recent warm days there was a chill to the air.
The village was completely silent; no one else had risen as yet, and Amelie was grateful that her departure was unobserved.
She felt as though she was stealing away in disgrace, running from the scandal, although she knew she would never truly escape it.
Each step away from the cottage hurt, as though her very soul resisted leaving. She longed for Will to come running after her, to call her back, to tell her he had made a terrible mistake. But the lane behind her remained empty—no sound of boots on gravel, no voice in the dawn mist.
Amelie tried to push thoughts of Will from her mind.
She had not spoken to him since their confrontation yesterday morning when he had told her he needed a respectable duchess.
He had knocked on her door twice, and asked her to speak to him, but she had remained quiet both times and eventually he had gone away.
The coaching inn was in the centre of the city and it took her forty minutes of brisk walking through the quiet dawn to reach it.
By the time she arrived, her resolve had hardened and nothing could have persuaded her to return.
The coach was already waiting, a few passengers seated on the bench seats inside, and Amelie pressed her coins into the coachman’s hand before climbing up.
She did not look at her fellow passengers, preferring not to be drawn into conversation whilst she waited for the departure of the coach with uneasy anticipation.
The journey to London was long and dull and Amelie found herself dwelling on her last conversation with Will. She wished she could banish it from her mind but every time she tried to think of anything else she could not concentrate and her rebellious mind wandered back to Will.
Through all their time together, Amelie had never felt inferior to Will.
Of course she’d cooked for him, straightened the sheets on his bed and washed his clothes.
Those were jobs she was paid to do, but whilst they had been close there had not been an imbalance of power between them.
He had never once made her feel less important than him, that her feelings were not as valid because he was a duke and she was only a maid.
That was why it had hurt so much when he had told her his duty was to marry someone who would best fulfil the role of duchess. It showed he saw her as inferior, unworthy, and that had hurt more than anything else. Even more than losing him.
Squashed between other passengers, she did not let the tears roll down her cheeks, but felt the deep pang of sorrow bore a hole in her heart.
This was a good lesson for her. However much Will had cared for her, he had put his duty to marry a respectable wife above his feelings for her.
It was no different from how her ex-fiancé had acted when her father had been carted off to the Fleet. Reputation meant more than affection.
Amelie had to harden her heart. Just now she felt as though her whole world was being shaken underneath her feet, but she was strong and resilient and she would survive this, although she did not doubt it would leave a scar.
Eventually they arrived back in London, but from there it was a long trek to Mrs Hampton’s house.
Amelie did not want to waste her money on another carriage so she set out on foot, hoping she would arrive before dark.
The walk took her two hours and by the time she saw the pretty front gate of Tranquillity House the sky was growing dark.
Amelie steeled herself as the door opened, expecting reproach, a cool stare, some sort of judgment.
Mrs Hampton was a respectable woman, someone who would never get embroiled in such a mess as Amelie was in.
But instead of judgment the older woman took one look at her and drew Amelie into her arms, enveloping her in a warm, motherly embrace.
‘My dear girl,’ she said softly, her voice as soothing as her mother’s had been when Amelie was a child. ‘You look worn to the bone. Come in, come in.’
Amelie’s composure cracked. She had thought herself too exhausted for tears, but they came anyway, hot and suddenly. ‘I have made such a mess of things,’ she whispered.
As Mrs Hampton ushered her inside she wondered if Will’s old nanny perhaps hadn’t heard the gossip.
The news of their indiscretion had travelled quickly from Cambridge to London, but Tranquillity House was on the outskirts of the city.
Perhaps she was so welcoming because she did not know of the mess Amelie had created.
‘My poor child,’ Mrs Hampton said, leading Amelie through to the drawing room. ‘You look as though you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Sit; I will make you a cup of tea, and you can tell me as much or as little as you wish.’
‘The children…’
‘Are asleep for the night. Once you have had something to eat and drink, you can sleep in the spare bedroom. They will be delighted to wake up and find you here in the morning.’
At first Amelie was on edge in the comfortable drawing room, but little by little she felt some of the tension drain from her.
Mrs Hampton took her time preparing the tea, clattering about in the kitchen before eventually reappearing with a tray piled high.
She fussed around, pouring Amelie a cup of tea and ensuring she had everything she could want to eat.
Amelie hadn’t thought herself hungry, but she had not eaten all day, and at the sight of the food her stomach growled.
Mrs Hampton did not try to engage her in conversation while Amelie ate. She sipped her own cup of tea and waited, no sign of impatience. Only when Amelie was finished and the plates cleared away onto the tray did she lean forward.
‘Have you heard the gossip?’ Amelie asked, only half-wanting to hear the answer.
‘Yes. His Grace may shy away from his popularity, but people have always been fascinated by the habits of those in higher social classes. Your affair has been the talk of London.’ There was no judgment in Mrs Hampton’s voice, just a gentle firmness, as if she felt it was important Amelie know the full extent of the problem.
Amelie chewed on her lip. ‘I do not know what I was thinking. I got swept up in the passion and the romance of it all. I never thought I could be so foolish.’
‘Even the most sensible of us can be fools when it comes to love.’
Amelie looked up at the older woman with desperation in her eyes. ‘What do I do now?’
‘You look to the future and you endure. You mustn’t dwell on what cannot be undone.
Heartbreak feels like the end of all things, but it is not.
You have your life ahead of you still, and three little ones who look to you for everything.
As impossible as it feels just now, you need to let the past go. Fix your eyes on what comes next.’
Amelie sniffed, staring into the rising steam from her cup. ‘The future,’ she repeated, as though testing the word on her tongue. It felt impossible, but perhaps if she followed Mrs Hampton’s advice there would be a chance.
Mrs Hampton stood, smiling. ‘You are exhausted. Let me show you to your room. I will send the children in tomorrow to wake you for breakfast. They will be thrilled to see you.’
Amelie was half-awake when she heard the clatter of footsteps before her door burst open and Charles ran into the room, throwing himself on the bed.
‘Amelie!’ he half-shouted, half-sobbed, throwing himself into her arms.
‘Mon trésor.’
Marie and Harriet were only a few steps behind him, piling onto Amelie’s bed and hugging her until she could barely breathe. It felt wonderful to have them back in her arms and Amelie clung on tightly, not wanting to let go.
They all started speaking at once, a jumble of voices asking her questions about her journey and how long she was staying, all vying for her attention.
‘Oh, my loves,’ she murmured, kissing each tousled head in turn. ‘I have missed you so very much.’
Marie, ever the most perceptive, leaned back just enough to study her face. ‘You’ve been crying.’
Amelie smoothed her sister’s hair, forcing a smile. ‘I have merely been eager to see you all again.’
Charles climbed onto her lap, settling himself in the place of honour. ‘I don’t want you to go again. Mrs Hampton is very good to us, but I miss you.’
‘I miss you too.’ There in that moment she made the decision that she would not leave them again.
She had a little of her wages saved from the last couple of months—enough to rent a room for all of them together whilst she worked out what they were going to do next.
‘I’m not leaving,’ Amelie promised, though the words caught in her throat. ‘From now on, we stay together.’
Amelie closed her eyes and tried to focus on the future, as Mrs Hampton had suggested the night before.
The pain from her heartbreak was still there, still fresh and raw, but as she held her brother and sisters close she believed for the first time she would survive it.
Her heart might be broken into pieces, but these three would help her repair it just by being close.