The Mistress of Hanover Square. Anne Herries
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Gerard had replaced the broken doll and closed the box. ‘The footman knew nothing, but someone else may have seen the messenger who delivered this thing. Any clue would be welcome, for at the moment I have little to go on.’
‘You know you may call on me for assistance?’
‘Yes, of course. Please say nothing of this to your wife or Amelia for the moment. I do not wish to throw a cloud over the celebrations this Christmas. Besides, I believe Amelia must be safe enough here for we are aware of the danger…’ He frowned. ‘Does it not strike you as odd that I was warned? If the rogue wants Amelia dead—why warn me of the possibility?’
‘Perhaps he simply wants to prevent you speaking to her?’
‘Perhaps…’ Gerard looked thoughtful. ‘Or someone else sent it to alert me to danger. Something puzzles me, Harry. I think there is more to this than we yet know, but I confess I have no idea what it may be.’
Amelia was thoughtful as she went upstairs to change. Speaking to Gerard confidentially had made her think about her situation. It was hard to think that her brother could mean her harm, but she could not deny that he had several times spoken to her in a manner that might be thought threatening.
Perhaps it would be sensible to take some precautions, though she would hate to think her life might be in danger. Of course, if she were married, her brother would have no hope of her fortune—which might be why he had several times made it plain that he would never agree to her marrying Gerard. She was her own mistress, of course. Michael must know that he could not stop her marrying whomsoever she wished.
Amelia looked out of her bedchamber and watched her companion walking towards the house. Emily Barton’s head was down and her manner one of thoughtfulness. She was quite alone.
Emily had a gentle beauty with her dark honey-blonde hair and blue eyes that were startling in a pale face. However, because of her modest manner and way of dressing, she was often thought unremarkable until she smiled, when she could look stunning. Amelia frowned, because of late Emily had seemed quieter than usual. She was clearly brooding.
Amelia suspected she knew what was troubling her. Emily had been scrupulous in confessing her shame when she applied for the position as Amelia’s companion.
‘I must tell you that I have a secret, Miss Royston.’ Emily had looked at her steadily. ‘Only my parents and a few servants knew, for my father did his best to hide my shame.’
‘Your shame—are you telling me that you have borne a child out of wedlock?’ Amelia had sensed it instinctively.
‘I…was forced,’ Emily told her, cheeks pale, eyes dark with remembered horror. ‘He was not my lover—but he held me down as he raped me, and, later, I knew that I would bear his child.’
‘My dear,’ Amelia cried. ‘It is shocking that men can be so vile. Please tell me what happened then.’
‘My father never believed that it was not my fault, but I swear to you that I am innocent of duplicity in this.’ Emily’s eyes brimmed with tears, though she did not weep. ‘If this makes me unacceptable as your companion…’
‘No, do not think it.’ Amelia smiled at her. ‘What you have told me makes me more determined to give you a home. You will live with me, meet my friends and learn to be happy again, my dear.’
‘You are so very kind…’
‘I know what it is to have a broken heart, Emily.’ She shook her head as the young woman raised her brows. ‘Put your shame behind you, my dear. I absolve you of blame.’
If only Emily had been able to put her shame and unhappiness behind her! Amelia knew that she still had days when she was deeply unhappy.
She must do something to help her companion. For some time now Amelia had been considering the idea of trying to find Emily’s child. The babe had been taken from her at birth and she did not even know where her daughter was. If she could be told that the little girl was well and healthy, living happily with her foster parents, perhaps this deep ache inside her might ease.
Amelia had hesitated because she did not wish to cause her companion more pain, but to see Emily unhappy even when she was in company was hard to bear.
Instead of brooding on her own problems, she would think about Emily. Surely there must be a way of finding the child?
Having changed into a fresh gown, Amelia prepared to go down and join Emily. She would say nothing to her for the moment, but after Christmas she would see what could be done.
Alone in his bedchamber, Gerard paced the floor. It seemed he was caught between a rock and a hard place—if he spoke to Amelia and she accepted his offer of marriage, it might place her in danger. Yet if her brother did plan her death in order to inherit her fortune, she needed protection. If she married, she would no longer be at the mercy of her grasping relatives.
He was aware of a burning need to protect her. Amelia was his, the love of his life. He could not give her up because of an obscure threat. He would make every effort to keep her safe. It would probably be best to let her know he believed she might be in some danger, but he was sure that she was safe enough for the moment. Harry would alert his servants to be on the lookout for strangers, and by the time she was ready to leave Pendleton he would have measures in place for her protection. He would summon the men he had used once before.
He could at least do this for the woman he loved, though he was still undecided whether to speak to her of marriage. Did he have the right? Amelia was still beautiful, a woman of fortune and charm and she must be much sought after. He had heard whispers, her name linked with various gentlemen, but nothing seemed to come of the rumours. Gerard had no idea whether she had received offers. If she had, she had turned them down—why? Was she suspicious of the motives behind every proposal that came her way? Did she imagine that no one could love her for herself? Surely not! And yet if her brother had been browbeating her because of her fortune, it would not be surprising if she thought others interested only in her wealth.
Gerard decided that he would tell no one else of his suspicions until Christmas was over, because he wanted it to be a happy time for Amelia and his daughter. He certainly did not wish to cast a shadow over the festivities for Susannah and her guests.
‘Susannah asked me to help with the younger children,’ Emily said to Amelia as they went downstairs together that afternoon. ‘She thinks that they will need help to unwrap their presents and Nanny has been given time off.’
Amelia saw the happy smile on her face. Emily loved children and the knowledge that her own daughter was living with another family must be torture for her. She wondered if Emily had ever tried to discover the whereabouts of her child, but supposed it was unlikely. She had devoted her life to her ailing mother until that lady died and had then been forced to look for work. Perhaps Amelia might mention the possibility to Emily another day, but now was not the time.
‘I think Susannah is very brave to have the children’s party without her nanny, for I am certain that some of the ladies have no idea of looking after their own children.’
‘I think it will be great fun. I always wished that I had brothers and sisters, and envied those who did.’ The wistful expression had come back to Emily’s face.
Amelia