Undressed by the Earl, page 22
part #3 of Secrets in Silk Series
“I—well, of course, my lady.” The older woman’s face paled as if she’d never expected such a response.
Amelia kept her face emotionless. “My husband and I have been traveling for several days. Asking you to arrange a good meal for our family is not beyond your abilities, I should hope. If you find it an unnecessary burden, then perhaps you should find employment elsewhere.”
“I will speak with the cook, my lady.” The woman’s mouth tightened, but at least she had backed down. The rigid cast to her face suggested that she was holding back anger of her own.
“Very good. And please have her prepare a dessert of some kind. A tart or a cake, if you would,” Amelia said. Though she knew Lord Castledon disliked sweets, likely his daughter would enjoy it.
The housekeeper looked as if she wanted to argue, but this time she held her tongue. “As you wish.”
Amelia thanked her and left, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassment. Although it was unwise to make enemies among the servants this early, there was nothing to be done about it. Margaret would likely have dismissed Mrs. Menford on the spot. Perhaps she should have done the same, but Lord Castledon had asked her not to make too many changes. Firing the housekeeper certainly fell into that category.
Amelia’s stomach twisted over what she’d done, and she decided to seek out her husband for advice. Or at least he might be able to tell her if the housekeeper was ordinarily so contemptuous.
After asking several footmen, she found the earl in the conservatory. He was standing in front of a pianoforte, idly tracing the edge of the wood.
“May I speak with you a moment?” she asked quietly, closing the door behind her.
He glanced up, but his expression spoke of a man distracted. His hair was rumpled as if he’d run his hands through it a moment earlier. “Of course. Is something wrong with Christine?”
Amelia shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her since earlier today.” It wouldn’t surprise her if the girl was plotting with Mrs. Menford on how to overthrow her.
“I thought the two of you would spend time getting acquainted.” He frowned, as if he’d anticipated that they would become immediate best friends. Amelia wasn’t certain if he was aware of Christine’s animosity and decided not to mention it.
“There will be time enough for that later,” she assured him. “I needed to meet the household staff and make arrangements for our meal tonight.”
His shoulders lowered, and he appeared no longer concerned. “Mrs. Menford has everything well in hand. You don’t have to trouble yourself about anything. She’s run the household ever since I was a small boy.”
Terrorized the household, more likely, Amelia thought, but didn’t say so. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. She’s already questioning my orders, treating me like a little girl who doesn’t know how to manage an estate. It concerns me, and I’d like for you to support me in this.”
The earl moved forward and shrugged. “Give her some time to adjust to your wishes. I’m certain it will all turn out well, for she never had any trouble with Katherine. The pair of them got along with no trouble at all, and so will you.”
In other words, Amelia was the problem, and the earl saw no reason to interfere. For a moment, she was so dismayed by his lack of a response that she hardly knew what to say.
“I asked her to have the cook prepare a special meal for all of us tonight, to celebrate your homecoming and for Christine. She acted as if it was a great inconvenience and out of the question.”
“We did arrive with no warning,” he admitted. “In a day or two, I imagine everything will settle down.” He reached out and touched the back of her neck. “Don’t let it bother you, Amelia.” Then he lowered his mouth to her throat, sending a spiral of desire through her. The gesture of affection caught her off guard, but then she realized he was trying to sweeten her up.
It didn’t seem to concern him at all that the servants weren’t listening to her. Did he not realize that housekeepers were not supposed to behave like army generals?
She leaned forward to rest her cheek against his shirt. “I know my duties, Lord Castledon. My mother saw to it that all of us were prepared to run a household.” And she knew that a housekeeper who disobeyed orders on the first day could not remain here long.
His hand touched her spine. “Everything will be fine,” was all he said. Dismay filled her, for he seemed unaware of the true problem. She straightened, realizing that this issue was hers to solve.
Pulling away from him, she bid him a good afternoon. “I will see you tonight.”
“Tell Christine I expect her to be kind to you.” He smiled, and Amelia didn’t correct his assumption. She wasn’t about to seek out a second person who didn’t like her.
If she did that, she’d start to doubt every decision she made. It was time to retreat, to make plans, and find all the reasons to be thankful. She would not weep or behave as if the world had dealt her a bad hand of cards. She simply had to reevaluate her circumstances and make the most of them.
Even if no one really wanted her here.
“You married the wrong woman, Papa.”
Christine closed the door behind her, and David was startled by his daughter’s proclamation. “You’ve only just met her,” he responded. Although Amelia was young and inexperienced, she needed more than a day to get adjusted to life as a countess.
“Why would you say I married the wrong woman?” he asked, opening his arms to his daughter. “You said you wanted a new mother.”
Christine came to sit upon his knee, and her gray eyes remained quite serious. “I wanted one much older. Someone like Miss Grant, someone who understands me.”
David had no interest in marrying her governess and had never even considered it. Although Miss Grant was a decent enough woman, she’d given Christine too much freedom.
“Miss Grant resigned her post as your governess several weeks ago. The last I heard, she was going to marry someone else.”
“But she could change her mind,” Christine insisted. “If you would ask her, she’d say no to that other man.”
“I’m not going to ask Miss Grant to marry me,” he told her firmly. “I’ve already married Amelia Andrews, and she will do well enough as your stepmother.”
His daughter looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon. “You’re wrong, Papa.”
“I think you should give Amelia a chance. She’s a lovely young woman. Quite amusing, actually.”
Though he told his daughter stories about the board game he’d played with Amelia and her sister, his thoughts turned to another type of amusement. She’d startled him last night in the coach by seducing him. That encounter had only awakened his hunger more, making him crave her body.
She was dangerous to his life, like a siren who wove her spell around him. Sharing her bed once in a while was acceptable, but not every night. He preferred to keep their marriage as an amiable friendship, one that never dared to trespass beyond that boundary.
“You should have consulted me before you wed her,” Christine said. “She looks like the sort of stepmother who would lock me in my room.”
David bit back a laugh. “She isn’t that bad.”
“She is,” Christine insisted, keeping her voice in a whisper. “I overheard her telling one of the maids that she planned to get rid of me as soon as you’re gone.” Her face held all the drama of an actress on the stage. “You won’t let her do that, will you? Please say you’ll send her away.”
“You’re making up stories about someone you don’t even know,” David chided. “Give her a chance, Christine.”
His daughter shook her head. “I can’t, Papa. When I returned from my walk in the gardens earlier, I saw Lady Castledon leaving my room. Why would she have been in my room?”
“Enough of this. You’re being ridiculous, and I’m certain Amelia had a good reason. She likely was looking for you so the pair of you could get to know one another.”
“She was searching through my belongings,” his daughter insisted. “I believe that.”
“Well, I don’t.” He eased her off his lap and took her by the hand. “Now go and change for supper. I expect you to be there, and you will be on your best behavior.”
A sullen expression came over her face. “Why can’t it just be us? I haven’t seen you in months.”
God save him from petulant daughters. “Go on. I will see you later.” Without waiting for her to reply, he closed the door. After waiting long enough to be sure that she’d gone, he left the conservatory in search of Amelia.
None of the servants had seen her anywhere, or if they had, they’d refused to say so. When he couldn’t find her, he went to her room, hoping to see her there.
Already he could see that she’d taken down the old brown drapes and let more light into the room. She’d chosen a sage green bedcover, and she’d put away many of the trinkets Katherine had been fond of. The room appeared clean and inviting, though more Spartan than it had once been.
He walked over to her writing desk, where he spied dozens of scraps of paper with lists. Most of them were incomprehensible notes like: Shutters? Green drapes or rose? Likely these were her ideas about redecorating the room, which he’d given her leave to change.
When he walked to Amelia’s window, it was then that he spied her outside. She was walking with a basket over one arm, and he realized she’d gone into the gardens, since the basket was overflowing with roses and other blossoms he didn’t recognize.
David stepped upon a crumpled piece of paper, and when he picked it up, he saw another list titled Thankful.
A place to live
Enough food to eat
A husband who isn’t a troll
The last one made him smile. A troll? At least she’d admitted that he wasn’t one. But as he read farther down the page, he saw another list titled Problems. First on the list, she’d written Mrs. Menford’s name. Second was Christine.
The thought was sobering, for he’d wanted his wife and daughter to get along. Christine’s earlier complaints were unreasonable, along with her desire for him to wed her governess. Not to mention her overblown ideas about Amelia being cruel. Honestly, did she really believe Amelia would lock her away? The idea was laughable, for his wife was the kindest person he’d met.
But his daughter’s resentment was real, and David didn’t know how to solve the problem.
He turned the scrap of paper over and was startled to see a sketch of a ladies’ undergarment. Amelia had written purple with lace beside the drawing.
He thought back to the undergarments she’d worn on their wedding night. Sensual and seductive, he’d reveled in touching the silk against skin. Never before had he seen anything like them, but seeing Amelia bared in such a way had invited him to pleasure her.
He sobered, realizing how different his two wives were. Katherine had enjoyed making love with him, but she’d never been as bold as Amelia. He sensed that his new wife would drive a saint into eternal damnation. She’d tempted him, not only on their wedding night, but also on the journey here.
If he wanted her in his bed, all he had to do was enter her room. He knew that, and yet he was torn by his body’s desires and the illogical desire to remain faithful to Katherine.
David sat down and picked up a pen, writing Amelia a note: I’m glad you don’t think I’m a troll. Then he tucked it among her other papers and stood to leave.
The door swung open and Amelia entered, nearly dropping the basket of flowers when she saw him. “I didn’t realize you were here, my lord.”
“You don’t have to call me that,” he said. “David is fine, remember?”
“Did you need something, David?” she asked, her gaze darting toward the desk. It was as if she suspected he’d read her notes and was embarrassed.
He thought about talking to her about Christine’s ridiculous accusations but decided that she wouldn’t be able to laugh about them yet. Instead, he said, “I wanted to see that you were comfortable in your room. Is everything the way you’d like it?”
She sent him a wry smile. “Not yet. But even so, I don’t think the servants would help me to change it. They’re quite loyal to the first Lady Castledon and were appalled when I took down the drapes.”
He wasn’t surprised, for his household staff preferred to leave everything as it was. Still, they did need to allow Amelia to make a few adjustments. “How would you like them to help you now?”
Amelia shrugged and picked up the fallen basket. She picked up a daisy and snapped off the blossom, tucking it behind one ear. The blossom was a white contrast against her darker blond hair. “I want them to do as I ask without informing me that it’s not the way the former Lady Castledon decorated the house. It’s not a good beginning, David. As Lady of Castledon, they shouldn’t be arguing with me at every turn.” She rested a hand upon his chair. “If they will not carry out their duties, I will hire staff members who will do as I ask.”
Now this made him hesitate. Most of the staff had been at Castledon since he was a young boy. They were as much a part of the estate as anything else, and he couldn’t imagine hiring a different housekeeper or butler. “I will speak to them, if you wish.”
“I won’t allow them to treat me like a brainless miss,” she continued. “I may be young, but I am lady of this household. I cannot keep servants who undermine my decisions.”
He didn’t want her to feel so unwelcome in her own home. “Amelia, you needn’t worry. Let me address the situation and trust that the household will run itself, once you’re accustomed to everything. In the past, Katherine never had to interfere with any of it. You’ll have more freedom to do as you please.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she appeared confused. “Do you mean to say that…your wife allowed the servants to make all of the decisions about the meals and so on? She never voiced her own wishes?”
“She spoke with Mrs. Menford from time to time, but Katherine never cared about the menus or the household. She let them run it as they did when my mother and father were alive.” David had preferred it that way. He saw no sense in changing what wasn’t broken. “And I think you’d be happier not having to concern yourself with it.”
Amelia had fallen quiet. Whether or not he’d made her feel better, he didn’t know. But then she plucked the daisy from her hair and held it out to him. “You should go and change for dinner. Perhaps there will be bread and water if we’re lucky.”
He took the daisy and twirled the stem. “Amelia, it won’t be that bad.”
She sent him a pointed look, as if to say, yes, it was that bad. David decided to broach the other concern. “And…it will get easier with Christine. I know she’s not been easy to like, given her behavior. But once she gets better acquainted with you, she’ll come to realize that you’ll be not only a new mother, but a friend.”
Her expression grew strained, as if she didn’t believe that at all. He stood and was about to leave, when he saw that she was fighting back tears. Amelia wasn’t one to cry, but it seemed that she was on edge.
“What else is bothering you?” he asked quietly.
She took a breath, gathering her composure. Though her eyes still gleamed, she admitted, “From the moment I’ve stepped into this house, I’ve felt sixteen years old again. I’m told what I can and cannot do. I’m not permitted to make any changes or do anything that would alter the household. I don’t feel like your wife at all.”
He was caught by the unhappiness in her voice and he took her hand, drawing her closer. Without words, he guided her arms around his waist, while he framed her face. “Don’t you?”
“Not really.” Her words were the barest whisper, and he drew his thumb across her cheek and over her mouth.
Without asking her leave, he kissed her. There was a hint of salt upon her lips, revealing earlier tears.
He didn’t want her to be unhappy here. But every time he touched Amelia, it was as if the years of grief disappeared for a moment. The light of her presence twined around him, healing the raw edges. Amelia had been right; it was hard to enjoy happiness again, to take pleasure in another wife after so long. His instincts warned that he should tighten his heart against any emotions. Friendship was acceptable. But love was dangerous.
She sighed against his mouth, pulling him closer. The warmth of her arms and the velvet softness of her mouth beckoned him toward another means of forgetting.
He knew he should let go of the past and move forward. But no one had ever told him how hard that first step would be. It was as if she were melting away the hardened ice of grief, easing him with the balm of her touch.
And when she pulled back from the kiss, he found that his hands were shaking.
Amelia sat at the end of a dining room table that could host twelve people. The earl sat on the opposite side, at the head of the table, with his daughter beside him. Christine sent Amelia a triumphant look, as if she’d planned it this way.
No, more likely it was Mrs. Menford, the housekeeper, who had placed the pair of them so far apart, her husband would need an ear trumpet to hear her.
This wouldn’t do at all.
Amelia picked up her silver and marched to the end where Lord Castledon sat. She took a place at his right and feigned ignorance. “I hope you don’t mind my joining you. It was lonely at the far end with only a pepper pot to speak to.”
Fortunately, the earl nodded, not seeming to care where she sat. But Christine kicked Amelia beneath the table, so her father wouldn’t see.
“Ouch!” Amelia said, rubbing at her shin. She sent an incredulous look toward the young girl, who was ignoring her.
“Are you all right?” David asked.
She was tempted to tell him what his daughter had done, but that would only make the girl into a stronger enemy. Instead she said, “Yes. I bumped my leg by accident.”
