Page 44 of His Abandoned Duchess

Chapter Nineteen

Richard’s attention sat focused on the silver sheen of the candlestick set on the table just a few feet from him. A housemaid brought in a refresher of his coffee, but he did not immediately reach for it. The flame flickered above the candlestick, and he could see the moving illumination reflected in the metal.

He’d become peckish, wishing for a repast to fill himself before the evening’s dinner, and had the maids bring him a selection of cold meats and a variety of the fruits that were available during the Season.

It had been several minutes since he’d sat down, and Richard was suddenly aware that while he’d loaded up his plate, he’d yet to actually consume any of it. The Duke had sipped at his coffee regularly, but his mind had drifted off, taking with it, it seemed, his appetite.

The sound of the front door opening brought him out of his head, and Richard looked up from the table toward the door. Amelia’s voice sounded in the hall just beyond the room, and Richard tensed. This would not do. She’d been avoiding him all morning, and if they were to remain partners of their preexisting agreement, they needed to converse.

“Would you please ask my wife to join me at the table?” Richard asked the maid, standing against the wall.

She was quick to nod and hurried off to retrieve Amelia. The Duke had half a mind to believe that his wife would refuse his request, so it was with surprise that he met her eyes in the doorway to the dining room.

“Richard,” Amelia dipped before walking to the other end of the table and sitting down, “Good day.”

“Good day.” He returned, his throat tight for the words that remained lodged there. “Thank you for joining me.”

Amelia only nodded, and as the maid offered her a cup of tea, his wife smiled at her gently, retrieving the cup to sip at it quietly. Richard stiffened, adjusting in his seat as he looked toward the young maid.

“Thank you. That will be all for now. I would like a moment of privacy with the Duchess.”

The maid curtsied and left the room, leaving the two of them to sit awkwardly in silence until suddenly Amelia’s eyes lifted to his, and she broke the quiet, blurting out her words in a stream nearly too quick to process.

“Richard, I have run into your brother, Hugh. He was searching me out as I took to the shop with Charlotte. I must profess that I was not seeking him out, and I did look to leave the situation without engaging him in conversation.”

His stomach clenched, his hand balling into a fist on the table reflexively. “What?”

“I saw him at the hat shop. We walked down the row for a moment. He wishes to speak with you. He wishes to convey his apologies for leaving the estate with his mother those years ago and has professed that he did not understand the nature of the situation. I will not take Hugh’s words from him, but I did say that I would speak on his behalf to you, and so I have.”

Shock registered through Richard’s body, and he was physically knocked back against his chair as Amelia’s words tumbled out into the room. His mind spun, and it was with great effort that he sucked in a new breath of air and attempted to ensure his understanding of the situation.

“You spoke to Hugh.” He pulled his stare from his still-full plate up to Amelia’s distressed face. “You spoke with my brother even as I had expressly forbidden you from doing so.”

Amelia’s brows pinched together as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. When she again met Richard’s glare, Amelia pleaded with him.

“It was not my intention to go against your wishes. I was astonished to run into Hugh. I imagine that he inquired about my location with the staff or perhaps with Magnus, as it was set that I would be out with Charlotte.”

In truth, Richard cared very little about how Hugh had located Amelia. It was no great challenge to ask a lady’s maid where the mistress of the house might be or to call on the friends of the lady to determine where they had gone. The point of contention that hung so precariously perched over him like a blade suspended in the air was that Ameliadidindeed speak to Hugh.

And they had apparently exchanged a number of words regarding Richard’s upbringing.

“How could you have done this? I wished for you to disengage with my brother should he ever present himself again, and instead, you allowed him to bend your ear toward truth that no doubt painted him in a sympathetic light. Heabandonedme along with his mother.”

Rage warmed his blood to boiling, and Richard shoved back from the table. It sent his chair crashing to the floor, landing with a heavy thud, and he rushed for the door, intent on leaving the room—and perhaps all of Heartwick.

“Please, Richard. Hear what I have to say. I do not wish to anger you. I have only just learned of how awful your father’s treatment of you was, and?—”

He turned back toward Amelia, glaring as he pointed a stern finger at her. “You know nothing of my father or me.”

His wife’s eyes were glassy as she stood just in front of him, the tip of his finger brushing against her fichu, which she still wore draped over her shoulders from her morning out with Lady Charlotte.

Richard faltered. He had not invited Amelia into the dining room to engage in another screaming match.

There was a thicket of overgrown roses between them, gorgeous blossoms choked by vines too abundant with thorns. His purpose in requesting her had been to admit the truth to her—Richard was jealous of the affections paid to her by the Viscount. He had been entirely on edge the previous evening, his words the result of his nerves surrounding how Frederick might perceive him once his friend had seen him around her.

The woman possessed an uncanny ability to see through him, and he knew that Frederick would notice how he reacted. Lord Emerton knew Richard especially well also, but he could get carried away. Lord held him if his friend had decided there was somethingmorebetween Richard and Amelia.

At once, the fury that wormed through his blood—a poison that had begun to damage another of the relationships in his life—subsided, replaced by an exhaustion that claimed him, body and soul. Richard slumped into himself, releasing a heavy breath.

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