smiled at her, surprised how pleased he was to see her. ‘My leg is healed. Nothing to worry over, I assure you.’ He gazed at her sparkling hazel eyes, her shining chestnut hair. ‘You look even more beautiful than in Brussels, Tess.’
She blushed. ‘I am happy. That is the reason.’
Her husband approached. ‘How good you could come on such short notice. I am delighted we will have the evening together.’
Glenville and Tess stepped aside.
From a chair near the fireplace, another woman stood. ‘Hello, Edmund.’
Amelie! He caught himself before he spoke her name aloud, bowing instead. ‘Miss Glenville. Good to see you again.’
A memory of holding her in his arms, feeling her soft skin against his palms, her lips against his, slammed into him. He’d missed her, although why he should miss a woman he’d only spent a few hours with would make no sense to anyone.
Except to him. Those hours together had had an impact that would never leave him. She was the inspiration for him to dare to make himself a success.
She looked as beautiful as ever, but thinner. Paler.
‘You must call me Amelie.’ Even her voice seemed altered. Softer. Tenser. She made an attempt at a smile.
Tess pulled him towards the sofa, near Amelie. ‘Come. Sit. Marc will pour you a glass of claret. You must tell me why you are in London and why you did not write to us that you were coming.’ She gave him a scolding look.
He glanced at Amelie, who sat again, before turning to Tess. ‘I assumed you would be in the country.’ He assumed they all would be in the country.
‘Marc had some work to finish,’ Tess said. ‘And Amelie came for a visit.’
Marc poured the wine and handed a glass to him and one to Tess. ‘That was why I was at Horse Guards.’
Edmund tore his eyes away from Amelie. ‘Work brought you to Horse Guards?’ What sort of work at Horse Guards did a viscount’s heir perform?
Glenville smiled. ‘Indeed.’ But he did not explain.
It appeared Edmund and Amelie were not the only ones to keep secrets.
‘But why did you come to London, Edmund?’ Tess asked again.
He took a sip of his wine and took one more glance at Amelie before facing Tess. ‘I sold my commission.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You are no longer in the army?’
‘I sold out.’ He gestured to his clothes. ‘That is why I am not in uniform.’ He met Tess’s gaze, but wondered if Amelie even attended to his words. ‘Napoleon is defeated. The war is over. Without the war, there is no future for me in the army. Regiments will disband, I fear. There will be fewer and fewer opportunities to advance.’
And who would promote a bastard when there were plenty of aristocratic sons wanting the higher ranks? When fighting in Spain, he’d been passed over for field promotions. Captaincies had been given to men with fewer skills and less seniority.
‘But what will you do?’ Tess asked.
He could not resist a glance at Amelie, who sat primly, eyes lowered, hands folded in her lap. ‘I plan to return to Brussels.’
‘Brussels? With Mama?’ Tess’s voice rose.
Tess and her sisters had not known their mother was in Brussels, let alone that Edmund had corresponded with her for several years and stayed with her when his regiment was sent to the area. Because of Edmund, Tess and Lady Summerfield had forged a reconciliation, albeit an ambivalent one. Unlike Edmund, Tess had not forgiven her mother for abandoning them.
But this was not the time to discuss Lady Summerfield.
‘There are fortunes to be made on the Continent, now that the war is over,’ he said instead. And Count von Osten had a talent for finding them.
‘You sound like Papa,’ Tess accused.
Their late father had always chased an easy fortune, finding instead only debts and failure. When his half-sister Lorene sent him money to purchase a captaincy, Edmund had been surprised there had been any money left to inherit. While Edmund recuperated in Brussels, he used that money, not to purchase an advancement in the army, but to make the very sort of investment his father might have made. Except, unlike his father, Edmund made good profits from taking the risk. Now that he’d sold his lieutenancy, he had even more money to invest.
‘I’ll do well enough, Tess,’ he assured her. ‘Besides, I only have me to worry over.’ Not a wife, three daughters and a bastard son, like their father.
‘No more talk of money,’ her husband said cheerfully.
‘Then tell me of Lorene and Genna,’ Edmund said, glad to change the subject. ‘Are they in London, too?’
Their sister Lorene had married a very old man, a reclusive earl who lived near their village in Lincolnshire. She’d married him for his money, which seemed unlike her. Edmund had never met the man.
‘Lord Tinmore has retired to the country.’ Glenville’s voice rang with contempt. ‘He has filled Tinmore Hall with guests who are invited for the bird shooting.’
‘Guests?’ Edmund said. ‘I thought he was an old recluse. Was that not what was said of him when we were growing up?’
‘He probably has invited his eligible gentlemen friends in an effort to get Genna married off,’ Tess responded. ‘He is eager to be rid of her, I think.’
‘How old is Genna?’ Edmund asked. ‘Is she not too young?’ His eyes darted to Amelie again. How old was she? he wondered. Had she been too young? He’d not given that a thought that fateful night.
‘She is nineteen now.’ Tess rolled her eyes. ‘Plenty old enough, but she professes to be against marriage. She sometimes vows never to marry, but it is unlikely Tinmore will allow her that choice.’
Edmund was alarmed. ‘Surely he will not force her!’
Tess exchanged a look with her husband, who answered, ‘I fear Tinmore is capable of almost anything.’
‘What of Lorene?’ Edmund asked. Could he take care of both Lorene and Genna if it became necessary? ‘Does he treat her ill?’
Tess shook her head. ‘He is indulgent of Lorene as far as I can surmise. She wants for nothing, but he wants Lorene all to himself, not shared with her sisters.’
Edmund curled his fingers into a fist. ‘You will tell me if he mistreats either of them.’
‘We will not let them be mistreated,’ Glenville said emphatically.
The butler entered the room to announce that dinner was served. Tess took Glenville’s arm. There was nothing for Edmund to do but offer to escort Amelie. Her graceful fingers wrapped around his offered arm.
‘How
