Page 10 of His Abandoned Duchess

“Ah ha!” Amelia pointed blindly. “So you are on that side of the room!”

The giggling persisted, but each of her friends quieted, not wishing to give away their positions. It was no matter, however. Amelia confidently crossed the room toward where she’d heard Charlotte, her arms outstretched before her.

Unfortunately, Blind Man’s Bluff was a challenging, silly game that was meant to be played out of doors in the fresh air. There, she would have had plenty of space, but in the drawing room, it wasn’t two more steps before Amelia crashed into one of the chairs and keened backward.

Nearly tripping, Amelia flailed in front of her, ready to hit the ground and land squarely on her behind. It was a part of the nonsense this particular game entailed, and she was quite determined to finish the round without cheating.

Suddenly, however, a set of hands grasped her around the waist, and Amelia was saved from hitting the floor. Smiling, she turned around to face whoever had helped her, eyes still closed. Isaac was a chivalrous sort, and she could sense that the person now before her was tall and masculine. Still, it was equally possible that it was Magnus who’d helped her.

“Oh, well, you are too kind. Thank you for forfeiting your position by helping me.”

The comment was responded to with only silence, and as Amelia ran her hands up the arms of her savior, she began to realize that the person holding her was far taller than even Magnus, who was a statuesque man, to be sure.

Panic gripped her chest, her heart thudding against her ribcage as Amelia put together who truly owned the hands still clasped onto her waist. Heat bloomed through her cheeks, and she was unable to keep herself from releasing a thready breath.

She was about to speak, about to step back, when her husband hummed lowly in his throat and leaned closer so that she could feel the tickle of his breath by her ear.

“I do hope you’re enjoying yourself, Amelia. Your revelry has carried on so loudly that I wondered if you’d invited the entirety of London into the drawing room.”

A shiver worked through her spine unbidden, and Amelia silently cursed herself for the fear and intrigue that swelled within her at the deep intensity of Richard’s voice.

The annoyance was evident in the Duke’s tone, of course. And after only a second, he stepped back from her in a hard rush that caused Amelia to wobble on her feet momentarily. Gripping her arm just about the wrist, Richard cleared his throat before addressing the room.

“Open the curtains at once.” Amelia’s eyes flew open at that, and she gaped as her husband pointed toward the door. “Your little game must come to an end. I’ve several vital accounts to study, and the Duchess must undoubtedly take a rest after such a stumble.”

Her friends could do little to impede the Duke’s command. It was not their place. And so, they each took to the room to brighten it once more before taking their leave with hastily given farewells.

When Amelia stood alone in the drawing room with her husband, fury burned through her veins. She’d intended to invoke the man’s ire to a certain degree, of course, but it was a genuine shock that he would send away her closest friends so abruptly.

“I do not think it possible for you to have gotten my guests out of the house faster, Your Grace. It appears that any sense of propriety that you might have shown them was left in the study with the ledgers.”

Richard glared at her, his fingers squeezing enough on her wrist that Amelia had to snatch it away.

“Your friends were carrying on so thunderously that any in the entire manse would be able to hear their ridiculous giggling. If this is what you fill your day with so avidly, it isn’t a wonder that the accounts are full of receipts for drink.”

Amelia scoffed, horrified by his suggestion that all she did all day was get foxed.

“Our cups are full of nothing but the tea that I’ve ordered religiously since my arrival to the estate—alone. I have taken care to ensure there is sugar and cream for each guest’s cup, and you may inquire yourself with the shops to get an account of my orders. You’ll see soon enough that they are in line with any fine household making a gracious presentation for its community.”

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, his stare tracking down to the floor. “They are not to return, Amelia. I have work to do, and I cannot be?—”

“You will not keep my only friends from visiting me.” She glared, her throat clamping down around her words. “What little joy exists in my life is thanks entirely to them.”

“Perhaps then,” Richard started, meeting Amelia’s glare with one of his one, fiery and pointed, “you should have considered that before you took your leave to do whatever you please withmyestate.”

Her mouth fell open, and Amelia stumbled backward until her legs hit the chaise.

“I am Duchess Blackford,” she said, her voice quiet. “I am mistress of this house, and it has been my duty to oversee it these five years. Despite what you might think and despite your very words on the day of your departure, I have done so with my whole heart and have left any practical application of ‘convenience’ to the wayside.”

Before her, Richard ground his molars, the tension so evident in his jaw and neck that Amelia could track the veins and muscles beneath his skin as he seethed.

“I shall not indulge this conversation. Good day.”

With that, her husband left the drawing room, the space now empty save for her. Amelia felt the bile rising in her throat and struggled to breathe deep enough to scatter her anger. It was not proving effective, and as she stood up from the chaise and leveled her stare at the door, she made a quiet promise to herself.

If he shall see fit to interrupt one of my few times of happiness, I shall see fit to interrupt his slumber.

Chapter Five

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