Page 92 of Lord of Fortune
Maybe this time, he’d do her the courtesy of dying so that she could get back to the life she wanted.
She winced, hating herself for thinking such a thing. But really, contemplating a future in which she was tied to Thaddeus Forrest was enough to make her want to open the carriage door and retch.
The vehicle they’d obtained was a chaise. It was small and open at the front with a single horse drawing it, which Gideon—he’d instructed her to call him by his given name since he was no longer Viscount Kersey, at least as far as they knew—was riding postilion.
As they traveled down the lane that led to the cottage, her apprehension increased. It was a mild afternoon, but it might have been scorching hot given the beads of sweat trickling down the back of her neck.
She couldn’t show Thaddeus that she was nervous. She had to convince him she wanted to start fresh. No easy feat since at their last meeting, she’d shot him.
The vehicle slowed to a stop in front of the cottage. It really was a charming abode, with flowers blooming in front and a gable on one side. Their house had been smaller with a thatched roof and a single room upstairs—their bedchamber—accessible by a rotting staircase.
Nausea roiled in her gut. Why had she thought of their bedchamber?
Gideon climbed from the horse and came around to help her out. “Are you ready?” he asked quietly. “It’s not too late to change your mind. Penn and I can come up with another plan.”
She stared at him with pursed lips. “Now you sound like him. I don’t need to be coddled. I’m quite ready.” Maybe if she said it enough she’d believe it.
No, she could do this. Shewoulddo this. She’d had plenty of nerve when she’d pulled her pistol on Penn and Egg. Goodness, that seemed a lifetime ago now.
She picked up her reticule from the seat, and the pieces of the heart clacked together inside. Placing her hand in Gideon’s, she stepped down from the chaise. Lifting her chin, she walked to the door with far more aplomb than she felt.
Before she could lose her courage, she rapped sharply. A few moments later, an older woman opened the door. She had a kind face and a warm smile. “Good afternoon,” she said cheerily. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m here to see Mr. Forrest.”
The woman’s brow darkened. “He wasn’t expecting anyone. I’m afraid he’s not receiving visitors at present.”
Amelia summoned her grandest smile. “I’m certain he’ll see me. I’mMrs. Forrest.” She gave the woman a conspiratorial wink.
“Oh!” The woman’s dark eyes widened, and her lips parted. “I had no idea. Please forgive me.”
“It’s quite all right,” Amelia said. “We’ve been…estranged. However, I saw him recently, and he invited me to come.” None of that was untrue.
“Come in, come in, dear.” She opened the door wide and ushered Amelia inside. “I’m Mrs. Jones, Mr. Forrest’s housekeeper. And cook. My husband is the caretaker. We live not too far from here.” She chuckled. “Just listen to me go on. You don’t care about any of that.” She peered at Amelia intently. “Or perhaps you do if you’re here to rejoin your husband. Hopefully, your presence will improve his disposition. He’s been in a terrible state since day before yesterday. He sustained an injury to his arm, and it’s made him quite disagreeable.”
Good.Amelia stifled her glee. “How unfortunate. Is that why he’s indisposed?”
“Yes, I believe he’s sleeping, but I’ll wake him. As you said, he’ll want to see you, I’m sure.” She looked Amelia up and down. “Aren’t you a pretty thing? I can’t believe he never told us about you.” She clucked her tongue before taking herself off toward a staircase at the back of the hall.
Mrs. Jones turned at the base of the stairs. “Forgive me. Make yourself at ease.” As soon as the housekeeper disappeared up the stairs, Amelia burst into motion.
To her right was a small sitting room and to her left was a larger room with several chairs and a settee—all from their house. Penn had been right about the creditor story being a ruse.
Fury bit at her as she moved inside and saw that the chamber opened to another room at the back. She crept toward the doorway and almost shrieked when she saw Penn climbing in through the window. She couldn’t meet Thaddeus in this room. She needed to “make herself at ease” in the other sitting room across the hall.
Except she didn’t get that chance.
Heavy footfalls sounded on the staircase. She reached for the door and drew it nearly closed, but stopped as it creaked. Damn, it was still ajar.
“Amelia?”
She briefly closed her eyes and conjured the nerve and composure she required to face Thaddeus.
Just before she turned, Penn met her gaze. He gave her an encouraging look. That was all she needed.
Pasting a smile on her lips, she spun about. “Thaddeus.”
He wore breeches and stockings with a pair of slippers. His shirt was open at the collar and was rather wrinkled, as if he’d been sleeping in it, which she supposed he had. It looked as though he’d hastily donned a waistcoat. The buttons weren’t properly fastened, with one extra button at the top and an extra hole at the bottom.
