I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. What surprised me was not that he schemed, but more that he seemed entirely complacent, content even, in his actions.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Peter said with an edge to his voice. “We are the same.”
Immediately I crossed my arms. “We are not—not in the least.”
“Really? What of your breathlessness on the hill earlier? And our private picnic away from them?”
I bit my tongue. He was not wrong. But that we were the same in reason? Absolutely not. A man like Peter could never understand the importance of a match like this for Clara, for me. He lived without a care, and Georgiana would too, regardless of whether or not she married Sir Ronald. Their lives would be undisrupted without this match, but for us, it would mean the difference between poverty and freedom. If anyone deserved to nudge her sister nearer to the finish line, it was I.
“You cannot possibly understand my motives. What we need from this,” I emphasized.
“Do your needs outweigh my sister’s desires?”
Huffing, I rubbed my temples. There would be no arguing with a man who had everything, who gave freely to his sister as she desired. Clara and I did not live like that. We were the minority at Lakeshire Park. But I would never admit as much to Peter. Heaven only knew what he might do with that information.
“Spoken like a gentleman who wants for nothing,” I said under my breath. No matter what I said, he would never understand. “Just leave my sister alone. Do not engage her again unless she approaches you first.”
“Or what?” Peter smiled, and I realized I had no actual threat to back up my demand. “If you want me to step back, Amelia, you will have to give me something in return.”
“What is that?” I asked disdainfully, turning my gaze out the window. He knew I likely could not give him what he wanted, yet he baited me with the possibility.
There was a pause, an unexpected hesitation. I drew three steady breaths before he spoke. “Your company. Every afternoon until we leave.”
I whipped my head around to meet him. “What? That is preposterous.”
“It is the only way I will relent. But you must also keep from scheming.”
“You cannot be serious.” I shook my head, waiting for him to laugh at his own teasing. What could he possibly want with me? What sort of trick did he have up his sleeve now?
“I am in earnest.” He looked intently at me, as though we were discussing a legitimate trade. “Are you in agreement?”
“My company in exchange for you loosening your hold on Sir Ronald?”
“Yes,” he said firmly.
I looked away, balling my fists. Who was this man? And why did he live to aggravate me? It mattered not; I had to agree if I wanted to help Clara. Her future depended on this match, and I had no doubt if she was left to her own will, she could secure it. We only needed time.
“Agreed,” I said through my clenched jaw, standing. How had this happened? What had I done to deserve such difficulty and trial? Peter could tease and bait and laugh, while I had to plan and pray and hope. Anger at the injustice of my circumstances and the frivolity of his weighed heavily in my chest like molten iron. “But mind, Mr. Wood, if you so much as step out of line, I will make you the most miserable man in all of Hampshire.”
To my further irritation, the words only bolstered Peter’s grin. “Don’t tempt me, Amelia. I am already having so much fun.”
Chapter Seven
Mary pulled at my hair, tightening and twisting each curl atop my head.
“Do be kind, Mary.” I winced, gripping the handles of my chair.
“Of course, miss. Forgive me for saying so, but you are usually not so tender-headed.”
Mary gently pinned a piece of hair, and I relaxed my shoulders. I had not slept well, tossing and turning all night over my conversation with Peter. His ultimatum had soured my mood even this morning. Why, of all the things he could have asked for, would Peter choose my company? There must be some hidden scheme I’d neglected to account for. I would find out soon enough.
The door to my bedchamber swung open, and Clara rushed in.
“Amelia, you are awake. Good.” Her eyes were frantic. “I need to borrow your necklace. The flower pendant. Georgiana is also wearing pearls.”
Clara reached around her neck to unfasten the pearl necklace she wore, before yanking open my jewelry box and shuffling through the few items I possessed. Clara hadn’t worn much jewelry in London, but clearly she intended to while we were at Lakeshire Park.
“It’s in my drawer,” I answered as Mary twisted a larger portion of hair at the base of my neck. Her deft fingers were swift and sure. “We cannot have you complementing your rival, can we?”
“Georgiana is not my friend, that is most certain. When I came downstairs, she greeted me by saying my maid had misplaced a pin in my hair and that I should have her adjust it before breakfast.”
Mary scoffed.
“The nerve of that girl!” I said. “She and her brother are relentless.”
“Do not worry, I told her my maid does not misplace pins, and I played the pianoforte to distract myself.” Clara shook her head as she paced to my drawer. “Sir Ronald complimented my talent.”
Mary and I caught each other’s smile. “How is Sir Ronald this morning?” I asked.
“He is such a thoughtful host. He is taking us through town after breakfast,” Clara said over her shoulder as she sorted through my things. “And Mr. Wood asked after you.”
“Did he?” I let out a heavy breath. Clearly he meant to waste no time in punishing me.
“I told him you were coming down for breakfast. Are you nearly ready?”
“One more minute,” Mary said, holding a pin between her lips.
Clara fastened my necklace around her throat and examined herself in the mirror. “That is better.”
“First my gloves, and now my necklace.” I shot her an amused smile. “Is there anything else of mine you require?”
“Your wit,” Clara said seriously. “Oh, I shall never make it through this day.”
If I possessed enough wit, I would not be preparing for an afternoon with Peter. “You do not need it. You need only be yourself.”
Clara frowned at her reflection in the mirror. What was it she saw looking back? Why did she care so much about her appearance and distinction? Sir Ronald could not care as greatly as she did. Was love worth such stress?
Mary clapped her hands together, and I looked to my own reflection, meeting light brown eyes like my mother’s. Auburn hair framed my face in an elegant, smooth twist.