Page 38 of His Abandoned Duchess

“I…” he began, sucking in a deep breath then meeting her eyes. “I believe I understand. Bending yourself into the form expected of you can be tiring, even more when that effort does not appear to be recognized or appreciated.”

Amelia sat up straighter, her eyes flaring as she felt the weight on her shoulders shift. She looked upon Richard with a bit of awe as he genuinely appeared to understand what she was insinuating. She’d never been understood like that by anyone but her closest friends.

“Precisely. I do not wish to be miserable for the whole of my life when happinessispossible.” Amelia let out a sigh that bled into a mournful half-laugh. “I have spent the majority of my time alive doing everything I could to please my father…to be agooddaughter. It has left Amelia with very little that brings Amelia joy at the end of the day. I will admit to being desperate to keep ahold of what gladness I can.”

Richard was quiet, and after a time, his gaze fell back to the empty space between them. Amelia was quick to follow, tracking the stitchwork lines threaded through the covers of her bed. She’d rarely been that honest with anyone, and it was indeed a surprise to be so with her husband.

He wasn’t the man she expected to find after all these years, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. In any case, it was good to know that he could comprehend the fundamentals of how she felt and why she was so adamant about her life not changing drastically.

Amelia was not a cruel person. She did not drink to excess on most occasions, and she did not seek comfort out of the bonds of her marriage. It was a simple and often lonely existence that she claimed ownership of. The drums and events were her friends filled that absent space between her ribs, even if only for a time.

Could Richard understand that?

“Well,” his voice broke the silence in a whisper, “I should leave you to your rest. I do hope you are feeling better for good, Amelia.”

Her chest pinched, and she struggled to swallow or breathe or find the words to respond. A change was present in the air between them, and it filled her with trepidation and hope.

“Thank you, Richard. I am sure I will be good as new come this evening.”

He nodded. “Then I shall hope to see you at dinner. Good day, Amelia.”

With a thin voice that she struggled to keep from wavering, she replied, “Good day, Richard.”

He silently stood up from the bed and crossed the room to the door. As he left, Richard took one final look over his shoulder at her, and Amelia did her best to offer him a smile. When the door was fully closed, she let out a shaky breath, unsure if she would sob if given the opportunity.

Please…let him understand.

Chapter Seventeen

The following evening, Richard informed Amelia that they would be joining his friend, Frederick, for dinner. She recalled meeting the man on the day of that awful steward interview, but she had little more to go on regarding their host.

He appeared to be a fine enough gentleman and a long-time friend of Richard’s. What’s more, Frederick had invited Amelia’s friends to join them, which endeared him greatly to her. It was a kind gesture that he might allow her to feel more at ease and less like an outsider.

Perhaps Richard told his friend to invite them. Wouldn’t that be a change?

As the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the lavish estate, Amelia glanced out the window to admire the lovely building. Frederick was the Marquess of Emerton and had been companions with Richard since their time at university. These ties seemed to be the longest in Richard’s life, and Ameliasilently wondered if their host was more of a brother to her husband than his own kin.

Amelia heard the tiger descend from his post to help them out of the carriage, but before she could shift closer to the exit, Richard stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Yes?” she enquired, her brows up.

“Frederick is my dearest friend. I understand that you have not spent as much time with him and that the last encounter with him was accompanied by rather regrettable circumstances. As such, I ask that you…You are to disregard whatever you may have heard about him. He is the Marquess of Emerton, and we are to be on our best behavior.”

Amelia clenched her jaw to keep it from dropping open. Were the two of them really back here again? After their conversation yesterday, Amelia was under the assumption that she had reached a level of agreement with Richard. But the man that she had seen there in her room was nowhere present at the moment, and she stole her arm away to open the carriage door.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

It was the only response she could muster, and so she stepped down from their ride with the assistance of the young tiger who stood at the ready. Amelia waited pointedly at the side for Richard to exit and lead the way toward the entrance to Frederick’s home, staring daggers into the back of his head as they went.

Upon entering the estate, Amelia was a bit taken aback by the number of guests in attendance. She had momentarily thought that the event was to be a smaller affair, but the rooms were bustling with activity and a handful of people were coming in and out of the dining area she assumed was near the back.

The dinner party was more akin to her drums, and the tension of the evening clung to Amelia all the harder. Thankfully, it was not quite as rowdy or populated as some of her more raucous parties, which she hosted only occasionally, and she could breathe a sigh of relief that the most talkative of the ton was not in attendance.

“Welcome, Your Grace. Right this way, please.” Frederick’s butler gestured forward, escorting Amelia and Richard toward the large dining room to take their seats.

Following along, Amelia ran her gaze across the pristine white marble that covered the floor and the airy decoration of the walls and ceiling. The Marquess had a lovely home, in truth, and she was slightly annoyed with herself for thinking so when she remained irritated with Richard.

They were shown to their seats for dinner and presented with refreshments while they awaited the first of the courses. Not everyone had arrived yet, it seemed as well, and as Amelia turned to smile and offer a gentle wave to Charlotte, the Viscount St. Vincent strolled in through the door.

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