Marchioness Divine | A Regency Romance

Chapter Twelve: Amy

What would he say? He thought he had just about forgotten her and her rejection, but he had felt that keen of pain in his core the second he saw her. And what was different about her? She seemed less like icy and more like crystal, hard and cold but delicate at the same time. Her face moved more easily and her expressions were gentler – he ought to know, he had spent long enough studying her.

"I would like to convince you to stay," Frederick chuckled to him privately after everyone else left the dining room. "But after everything we have put you through I am sure you cannot wait to escape."

"I am sure I will be quite recovered in, say, a year or two," said Edward, causing both gentlemen to snort. "I am very glad that she is safe. I hope you will not be too harsh on her."

"I do not think it is possible to be too harsh on her after her little escapade." Frederick frowned deeply and his eyes darkened, an expression which never normally crossed his face. "After all she put us through."

"Well Caroline has not long left home and she and Am- Lady Amelia became fast friends. I am still adjusting to not having my sister home all the time." Edward did not quite miss the migraines, but he found himself missing some of the conversations. Their joint efforts to annoy their mother had often been entertaining.

"I wish Lady Amelia would stay. They are good for one another."

Edward cleared his throat. "I ought to go and let my mother know Delilah is safe and well."

"Of course. And thank you again."

The two gentlemen shook hands and, as soon as Frederick entered the drawing room, Edward sprinted for the door. He could not be in this house for a second longer, lest he do something he regretted. However, as he stopped to put on his hat and gloves, he heard a soft whisper from behind him.

"Lord Herriot."

He spun around to find Amelia watching him expectantly at the bottom of the staircase. When he did not move, she stepped forward. How the blazes had she snuck up on him?

"Lady Amelia." Edward bowed, mainly so he could take an inconspicuous step back. Even with this distance between them, his skin prickled for her.

Amelia straightened her back and clasped her hands in front of her as though to shield herself. "Lord Herriot, I do not wish to make my presence...awkward for you-"

"It is not," he snapped, before taking a deep breath. He turned to study the painting on his left.

Why had she not prepared herself? She'd had an entire carriage ride to get ready for this moment and now she was completely dumb. But no matter how he reacted, she needed to say her piece.

"I do not wish to be difficult, but I need you to listen to me," Amelia continued with a sterner voice. He did not move but the slight tension in his shoulders told her he was listening. Keenly. "The last time we met, you did me the courtesy of making your feelings for me clear while I did you the disservice of obscuring mine. I did not mean to toy with you. Rather I am worried I got carried away and toyed with my own heart."

He flinched but said nothing. She could just about see the outline of his tight jaw.

"I do miss my husband," she continued, slightly out of breath. She could not believe she was saying this, risking everything for him, but every second she looked at him gave her the strength to find a way for this to work. "I will always love him. But when I returned to Denmead Hall I found myself missing you. Separately from Thomas. I miss you," she gasped. Still he did not move. "So I did not kiss you because I wish to replace my husband. I kissed you because... I think you can guess why." She could have stabbed herself for cowering out at the last moment, but she could not give up any more of herself if he just stood there without accepting it.