“Then we will have her settled by this evening,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Excuse me then.” He bowed slightly and then opened the door and went out. Amelia had the urge to watch him leave, but she knew he would not appreciate an audience as he maneuvered the stairs. Instead, she returned to her mother’s chamber and sat on the bed for a long moment. She couldn’t tell if things were going poorly or well. Did he want her at Battle’s Peak, or did he just feel it was his duty to help? He’d said she’d be settled by evening, but he didn’t mention dining with her or seeing her then. It seemed impossible to know what he thought or felt. It was even more impossible for her to know how to react.
She hadn’t realized marriage would be so complicated. She supposed she hadn’t thought she’d care quite so much. But of course, she did. How could one not care for a man like Nicholas St. Clare?
A few moments later Rose entered, carrying a valise. “Lord Nicholas said you would need help preparing Mrs. Blackstock to remove to Battle’s Peak.”
Amelia stood. “She’ll be staying with me for a time, Rose. Will you be lonely here without us?”
She set the valise on a chair. “Oh, a bit, I suppose, but there’s always plenty to be done.”
The two packed quietly, Amelia telling Rose about the land manager who would be coming and assuring her that she would be welcome at Battle’s Peak. “Mama will be happy to see you.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about me,” Rose said when the carriage had finally arrived, and they had helped Amelia’s mother inside. “You’ve made the right decision,” Rose said, patting Amelia’s arm before helping her inside and stepping back so the footman could close the door. As the coach started away, Amelia waved to Rose and then turned in her seat to watch Catmint Cottage. Rose had said she’d made the right decision. Was that the decision to move her mother or did she mean a larger decision? Perhaps the one to marry Lord Nicholas?
THE NEXT FEW DAYS WERE a blur. Amelia’s mother was more ill than Amelia had anticipated. The doctor called often and when Amelia was not busy implementing his instructions, she met with the land manager to go over the books with him. Finally, the third day after her mother’s arrival, she’d improved enough that Amelia felt she could sit in a chair and close her eyes for a few hours. She’d barely taken the seat beside her mother’s bed when the door opened, and Lady Florentia entered. She gave Amelia a look of disappointment. “You look exhausted,” she said.
“I’m fine,” Amelia lied. She was exhausted. But she had felt like this before, and a few hours’ rest would refresh her.
“You need to go to bed,” Florentia said. “And that’s just what you shall do. Now.” She grasped Amelia’s hands and pulled her up from the chair. “I will sit here, and you go to your chamber and sleep.”
“There’s no need to do that—”
“There’s every need. Do not argue with me. I am older and wiser.”
“You’re not very much older.”
Florentia elbowed past Amelia and took her chair. “I am the big sister you always wanted.”
“Actually, I always wanted a little sister.”
“That’s what I thought until Anne was born. Trust me, it’s better to be the little sister. Now off with you! If your mother needs you, I’ll have O’Malley wake you.”
Amelia didn’t see how she could argue further and finally went to her chamber. She wouldn’t be able to sleep. She was tired, but her mind was too full of what ifs. What if her mother did not recover? What if the land manager discovered the situation at Catmint Cottage was worse than she suspected? What if Lord Nicholas had just brought her mother to Battle’s Peak to serve as a barrier to keep Amelia at bay? Every time their relationship moved forward, he seemed to take a step back.
In her chamber, O’Malley waited and cajoled her until she stripped down to her chemise and let her hair down. Amelia insisted she did not need to climb under the covers, so O’Malley compromised by covering her with a light blanket. Once she was alone, Amelia stared at the window and tried to remember the last time she had seen Nicholas. It was at Catmint Cottage several days ago. She hadn’t so much as glimpsed him since her mother arrived. And she hadn’t had time to tell him that she was not breeding, as she’d thought.
Would it even matter to him? He hadn’t married her solely for that reason. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she closed them for just a moment. Another quarter hour, and she would go back to her mother’s chamber. A moment later, she tumbled into a dreamless sleep.
NICHOLAS TAPPED QUIETLY on the door adjoining his room with Amelia’s. When there was no answer, he tried the latch and found the door unlocked. He pushed the door open and took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. No fire was lit in the hearth and the curtains on the windows were still open. Moonlight filtered through the glass panes. The small form on the bed was motionless.
“Amelia,” he said. The form did not move. He rapped on the door and repeated her name. No response. Nicholas entered the room and crossed to the bed. He stood to the side to allow the moonlight to illuminate her. She was in a deep slumber. One hand lay open on the pillow beside her cheek. Her hair flowed like rich amber over the white pillow, and her lashes made a shadow on her cheek. Her mouth was parted slightly and her breathing deep and even.
He tried to stop his gaze from moving lower, but he couldn’t quite muster that much self-control. The shift she wore had fallen off one shoulder and slid so low it revealed the rounded fullness of her left breast. If he’d nudged the material just a fraction, her nipple would be visible. His tongue wet his dry lips as he drank in the sight of that pale, round flesh. How long had it been since he’d seen a woman’s body? How long since he’d touched a woman?
His gaze slid lower where the blanket tangled at her waist. One leg was covered, but the other leg was free, and her foot and calf were naked for him to see. She had long, narrow feet and slim legs. He wanted to run a hand up that leg, cup the calf, and then slide a finger to the soft skin of her inner thigh.
With some effort, Nicholas dragged his gaze away and took a deep breath. He’d forgotten what a beautiful woman she was. It was easy to forget when he was not with her, harder to forget how she made him smile and how her kindness made him feel. But he didn’t think the image of that all-but-bare breast would be quite so easy to block from his mind. The feeling of desire would linger as well.
Nicholas reached for the blanket, untangled it, and drew it up and over his wife until it reached her neck. Once she was covered, he shook her shoulder lightly. “Amelia.”
Her eyes opened and she stared at him as though she had no idea where she was. Then she blinked and sat straight as an arrow. “My mother. Did something happen?”
“No.” Damn it all to hell. The blanket had slipped down when she sat and so had her shift. One rosy nipple was very clearly visible now as was a firm, rounded breast. “Your mother is fine.”
“Oh, good.” She lay back and pulled the blanket back up. “I had a moment of panic there.”
“Of course. My sister took her dinner with Mrs. Blackstock and reports she ate a bit of soup. Afterward, Florentia read to her for a little while.”