“Just curious.”
Amelia nodded at the tankard before the impish woman. “Drink and forget you find me interesting.”
“But I do find you interesting. It’s the accent, I suppose.”
“Do remember your manners, Fiona,” Matilda cautioned.
“Where are you from?” Fiona would not remember her manners or forget her interest, then.
Amelia sighed. “I was born in England and carted to America as a babe. When my parents died, I was sent back to England to live with my grandfather. I was fifteen. My accent, I assume, exists somewhere between the two locations. And I have traveled a bit on the Continent since my grandfather’s death. Spain andFrance and Germany. Italy. I have practiced their languages while abroad, so that may add further confusion.”
Fiona sighed. “It’s quite romantic.”
“I don’t see how.” Amelia snorted. The cities were beautiful, the art perfection. The days crowded with admirers, and the nights lonely. The suitors had only been after her money, the inheritance left to her by her grandfather. Nothing romantic about doting deceivers.
Matilda shook her head. “A vagabond life is not so desirable, Fee. ’Tis better to have a home.”
Home. Amelia had not been to hers in years, not since taking the position for Lord Andrew. The icy winds, the rough-hewn landscape. If Briarcliff were a pastoral fairy-tale place, Hawkscraig Castle was a gothic story picked straight from one of Ann Radcliffe’s horrid novels. Cold and gloomy and oh so lonely. And she missed it just a bit. Especially now, surrounded by Lord Andrew’s family, the celebrating villagers, the incandescent brightness of a place where people belonged.
Must be the ale.
She finished it off. “I’ve always embraced travel. I enjoy people, and home is in an isolated bit of Scotland. I have no more close family.”
Fiona squeaked. “I’m so sorry. I’ve opened up your tragedies.”
Amelia laughed. She’d not meant to, but the horror in the young woman’s eyes… she’d needed to alleviate it. “Not tragedies. Just a bit of loneliness.”
“You don’t have to be lonely.” Matilda averted her gaze. “If you tell a certain someone a certain something.”
But that was why she couldn’t tell him. She’d never been happier than while working for Lord Andrew at the agency. She had purpose. She helped others. She lived in a bustling, growing city, and the townhouse where she slept welcomed new tenantseach month when they needed a home between positions. Always someone to look after. Always someone to talk to. She loved her life with Lord Andrew, and she would do nothing to risk it.
“Look.” Matilda grinned and tilted her tankard to a spot across the room. “He’s coming over here now.”
Amelia froze, then moved all the things all at once. Her palms slammed to the table, and her head jerked the direction Matilda looked as her eyes widened, and… there he was, prowling toward them like a jungle cat. He wore all black but for his fine wool jacket, which was the navy blue of a winter night sky. His brown hair had been pushed back from his forehead and curled around his ears. He needed a trim. He always needed a trim. His jaw was clean shaven and sharp, but not as sharp of as his ice-blue eyes. Always so cold behind the gold rims of his glasses.
He stopped just before the table, scowling down at her, and his presence did what it always did—melted her. On the inside only. On the outside, she straightened, took a bit of his iciness, and made it hers.
“Yes, Lord Andrew?” she asked.
“Do you plan to do this all day?”
“This? Bythisdo you mean celebrate your brother’s nuptials?”
“Don’t use that tone with me, Mrs. Dart. You know we’ve much to do before we arrive in London.”
“There is much to be done, but it can be accomplished in London.”
Lord Andrew loomed.
Amelia glowered.
Matilda stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I hear Raph calling for me. Fiona?” She reached out a hand to her sister-in-law.
“Hm?” Fiona stared at Lord Andrew and Amelia.
“Zander is looking for you.”
“He is?” Fiona looked up and around. “No he’s not. He’s talking with—” Matilda’s smile disappeared, her foot tapped beneath her skirts, and her eyes narrowed. “Ah. I see. Yes. I’ll come along, too.” Fiona picked up her tankard and joined Matilda across the room with the others.
