Her gaze went back to the yard, and she noted that Nicholas had made it to the stables and stood just outside speaking to the stablemaster. Her husband had his hands on his hips and his head cocked as he listened, which was a stance she knew well. It meant he was listening seriously and considering what action to take.
It was a stance that always made her breath quicken slightly. She liked that he did not shy away from or avoid responsibilities. She liked that she could look to him when she needed something. It was no mystery why his authority appealed to her. For years she and her mother had to handle every crisis—small and large—that materialized. Now she knew that though she could handle a crisis, she could also count on her husband to stand at her side. He was a partner, and she wanted to be satisfied with that, but of course, she wanted more.
Since that night in the library, he hadn’t avoided her bed. He’d made it clear he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But he always came to her in the dark. He liked to take her from behind or pull her onto his lap when he sat in a chair. Amelia knew she shouldn’t complain. He aroused her to the point of madness and brought her to shattering climaxes. He held her, kissed her gently, told her she was beautiful and clever.
But he didn’t offer any more of himself. He didn’t allow her to see his legs, and though they didn’t matter to her, she knew they mattered to him. There would always be a wall between them while he still didn’t trust her to see all of him, to love all of him.
And she did love him. Even now her gaze roamed over his body hungrily and she had the urge to run to the stables just to tell him good day and see his blue eyes crinkle when he smiled at her. And though she had much to do today to prepare for the guests arriving tomorrow, she wished the day would hurry and pass so she could feel his arms around her, his hands on her skin, his mouth on hers.
“Don’t you think so, Amelia?” her mother asked.
“Of course,” Amelia said, her gaze still on her husband through the window.
“I told you she’s not listening,” Florentia said.
Amelia looked at the two of them. Florentia was packing up the watercolors. “I am listening,” Amelia argued.
“Then why did you just agree we should make mud pies and catch frogs one afternoon?”
Amelia frowned. “Do you mean an activity for Lord Jasper’s son?”
“No, dear,” her mother said. “Though that’s not a bad idea for him. But Lady Florentia was saying whatever came into her mind because you hadn’t responded to a thing we’ve said for the last quarter hour.”
“Too busy mooning over my brother.” Florentia made a face. “I’ll put these away and then we will help you finish charades.” She carried the paints out of the drawing room. As soon as she was gone, Mrs. Blackstock patted the seat beside her.
“Come held me spread these out to dry.”
Amelia knew her mother didn’t need help spreading cards to dry, but she went and assisted. It was a good chance to review the guests for the last time. She lifted each card and studied the names.
Lieutenant-Colonel Draven would attend with his wife whose Christian name was Catarina. Draven had been the leader of the troop, the man who had organized it and given the orders. His given name was Benedict, but Amelia had never heard Nicholas or Beaumont refer to him thus.
Rafe Beaumont was next, though his card had his alias written on it. From what she’d gathered, he had been known as The Seducer and had been tasked with gathering intelligence.
She lifted another card and read Mr. Mostyn and Lady Lorraine. Ewan Mostyn had been the brute force of the troop, the Protector, and he’d married the daughter of a duke and they had a baby they were bringing.
The next card was Mr. Wraxall and Lady Juliana. Wraxall had been the man in charge of carrying out Draven’s orders, the commander. His wife was the daughter of an earl, thus the title, and she was a leading benefactress of Society, going so far as to run an orphanage for boys, though she wouldn’t be bringing the orphans with her.
Lord and Lady Jasper Grantham, she read on the next card. Lord Jasper was known as the Bounty Hunter. He could find anything and anyone. His wife was Olivia, and she had a son, Richard, who Jasper had adopted and who would attend and possibly play with frogs and mud.
Mr. Colin FitzRoy and Lady Daphne were the next card. Lady Daphne was another daughter of a duke. Colin FitzRoy had been a master of disguise and known as the Pretender during the war. Amelia questioned his talents as his efforts with Rafe Beaumont had been less than successful.
The Duke and Duchess of Mayne were the couple Amelia worried most about. She had never met a duke before. Nicholas assured her she could simply call him Mayne or even Phineas—Phin, as his friends called him—but Amelia doubted she could be so informal. His duchess was Annabel. Apparently, there had been some sort of scandal when they wed, but Nicholas said Phin had always been called the Negotiator as he was a master of tactics and compromises.
She shuffled the cards and read the next, which was Rowden Payne. He had been a pugilist and was now married to a woman named Modesty. Known as the Fighter, appropriately enough, he was one of Nicholas’s closer friends.
Then there was the man Nicholas called the Thief, though Amelia couldn’t think why. Aidan Sterling was one of the wealthiest men in England, so wealthy even she had heard of him. He had married very recently, and his wife was...Amelia had to think. Jenny, that was her name.
The Strategist was next. His name was Stratford Fortescue and his wife was Emmeline. Nicholas said Stratford was a master of planning, and Amelia almost wished he could be here now to help with all their party arrangements.
Finally, there were the two men coming from further away. The first was Duncan Murray and his wife, Ines. They were traveling from Scotland. Amelia was a little nervous that Duncan was called the Lunatic. The other Survivor, and the one they were the least sure would attend, was Nash Pope. His wife, Prudence, was the one who had written to say she would do her best to convince him, but apparently the man was as much a recluse as Nicholas. He had been the Sharpshooter in the troop.
Amelia set the last card down and hoped she could remember all of this. She glanced at her mother and Amelia grasped her hand. “I am so glad you are out of bed and helping, Mama.”
“Yes, well, I hardly had a choice. Every day you hounded and cajoled me to get up and go outside.” She squeezed Amelia’s hand. “Thank you for that.”
“It doesn’t mean you miss him less,” Amelia said. “Living life, getting out of bed. I still think of Papa all the time. I miss him.”
“I know, and do you know what else I realized?” Amelia raised her brows. “He would not have wanted me to wither away, mourning him. He would have wanted me to live my life and to continue to care for the one person we both loved more than anything else. You.”
Amelia threw her arms about her mother and held her tightly. “I love you more than anything else too, Mama. I am so glad you are feeling better.”
Her mother pulled back and looked at Amelia with concern. “Why the tears? What’s wrong?”
Amelia shook her head. “I’m just happy. For a few days, I was scared I would lose you too.”
Her mother nodded. “I’m sorry. I cannot promise you I will not still have bad days, but I will keep fighting.”