Page 37 of War of the Wedding Wagers
Amelia didn’t know what to do. Should she seek out Sir Frederick and inform him? Or was that too peremptory, considering Amelia was acting only on suspicions? Anyone in that group could have handed Caroline the note she was reading.
Frowning, Amelia continued to fix her gaze on the young girl as she decided what to do. And then, before her eyes, she saw Caroline take out a pencil from her pocket, write something on the note, and then, with a furtive glance about her, slip it into a crack in the wall between two stones.
The sound of another voice intruded. It was Caroline’s chaperone, calling her, and immediately the girl resumed her ingenuous manner, smiling as she straightened, and calling out that she was on her way.
Amelia bit her lip, waited for Caroline to disappear, and then slowly and purposefully made her way to where Caroline’s note was so artfully hidden.
“Miss Fairchild! Would you care to take a turn about the rose bushes?”
At the bottom of the stairs, with her destination only a few yards away, Amelia was waylaid by Lady Townsend who hooked her arm into Amelia’s with great familiarity and said, before Amelia even had a chance to respond, “Tell me, my dear, have you seen Sir Frederick this morning?”
Amelia sent a furtive glance over her shoulder at the resting place of Caro’s letter while Lady Townsend steered her away. Helplessly, she said, “Alas, I was up late this morning. Why do you ask?”
“I thought you might have gone riding together, having heard your brother expounding upon your superior riding skills in company last night.”
“He’s gone riding? Why, I’m surprised he had the fortitude.”
Amelia realized the error of her words when, looking interested, Lady Townsend asked, “And what, pray, ails Sir Frederick when he appeared perfectly hale and hearty last night?”
“His leg. I saw him in the library when I went to find a book last night and he said he couldn’t sleep for the pain of an old injury.”
“So you two are becoming well acquainted, it would appear. He is a most charming gentleman, do you not think?”
Amelia chose her words carefully. She’d thought him a lot more charming before she witnessed the scene just now betweenhim and Mrs. Perry. “He knows how to charm the ladies, that is true.” Had those words sounded somehow acerbic? Amelia hoped not, but Lady Townsend’s expression made her question herself.
The older woman certainly seemed interested in pursuing the topic. “Sir Frederick spent many years abroad and has not been back in England terribly long. Perhaps you should challenge him on the cause of his injury if you think it was caused by youthful folly.”
The fact that Lady Townsend so correctly interpreted Amelia’s tone made Amelia blush.
“I’ve no wish to pry, and he barely mentioned it. Only to reject my offer of a soothing balm I put great store in. No, our discussion centered upon Lady Pernilla’s letters. I found one in one of the books, you see.”
Lady Townsend angled a look at her. “My dear, I helped Lady Pendleton place some of those letters where they would be found. She’s made no secret of the fact the story was make-believe.”
“I know that’s what was said, but I have in fact found letters that are surely genuine, given their age and…and other evidence,” Amelia stammered. She knew they were.
“Is that so?” Lady Townsend said, as if she had absolutely no belief in Amelia’s assertion. “Now, aren’t these roses beautiful? Did you know that Sir Frederick’s mother was uncommonly fond of roses and, in fact, something of an artist in rendering their likeness? Her rose garden is renowned in Hampshire.”
Sir Frederick. Again. Amelia slanted a suspicious glance at Lady Townsend. She seemed excessively attached to the baronet. Could she harbor some strangetendre?
“Very fine roses,” murmured Amelia, wondering why Lady Townsend had sought out her company when they barely knew one another.
“So you were in the library last night with Sir Frederick? I’ve noticed Sir Frederick seems quite interested in your historical pursuits. It’s refreshing to see a gentleman who appreciates a lady’s intellect.”
“I’m not sure that is exactly the case,” replied Amelia, once again thinking of Sir Frederick’s apparent admiration for Mrs. Perry and his collusion in her unkindness towards Amelia by his failure to champion her. Another pang accompanied this thought, even deeper this time.
“You’re not sure he appreciates a lady’s intellect or you’re not sure he appreciates yours?” Lady Townsend asked with surprising acuity as they turned their steps towards the castle.
“Both,” said Amelia with a sigh. She wanted to get back to the alcove where she was sure she’d find a note from Mr. Greene to Miss Caroline. One that Caroline had answered.
But before she could manage such a thing, her company had been claimed by Miss Playford and then it was luncheon and then Edward wanted to go with her on a ride, insisting in the company of others that she’d promised. Which she had.
So, though dressed in her riding habit, she met Edward to offer her excuses, telling him she was much too exhausted to go riding. And finally, this was how she claimed a moment, without being shadowed, where she could safely retrieve the note without being discovered.
Adjusting her riding hat, which had once been modish and which she’d once thought highly flattering but which now felt dowdy because it was two seasons old, Amelia hurried down the stairs and made her way to where she’d seen Caroline hide her note.
Making sure she was unobserved, she checked each loose stone in the vicinity until finally, she discovered a gray brick that moved. Carefully she prised it out of the wall, finding behind it a small cavity. And it was inside this that Amelia realized wasa hiding space for, as she extended her fingers, she felt the dull edge of a thick piece of paper. Pulling it out in triumph, and unfolding it, she squinted at the lettering. Mr. Greene could not be complimented on his handwriting. Nevertheless, his thick, even penmanship filled the page.
“Dearest,
