Page 56 of His Spirited Lady
They weren’t, though, and there was no way to escape in any direction. Amelia’s tears had as much to do with that as with her parents’ ability to accept Richard simply because of who he was, not how he was born. “Thank you,” she said as she dabbed her eyes.
“If I may?” Graves said. “This seems to be the best time for me to begin searching for a new position.”
“No,” Amelia blurted. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Graves had been in the household, in her life, since before she’d gone off to school. For a girl who had been used to entertaining herself, Graves had been a Godsend. Though the chaperone’s presence had chafed at times, Amelia had seen the other side of the coin in Fiona Allen. “I can’t do this without you.”
“You most certainly can.” Graves’s warm smile matched the hand she put over Amelia’s. “You are an almost married woman now, and you and your betrothed don’t need shadow. It’s time for me to find another girl.”
Which set Amelia to weeping again. “Well, you’ll get an excellent reference from us.” A horrible thought hit her, and she spun to face her father. “She will, won’t she? The house party shouldn’t affect her. She raised me to be better. This was all my fault.”
Father patted her other hand. “I believe it was Mr. Raymond’s fault, dear.” He focused across the table. “You will have a glowing reference, Lillian. What’s more, we will all be looking for a family nearby who needs you as much as Amelia and I did when you arrived. You will be missed.”
Amelia squeezed his hand. Not long ago, his fingers had been thick and strong. Now, though the strength was still here, she could feel the knobs of his knuckles. Despite the sun through the windows, he was pale and there was a knitted throw across his lap.
“And you must come back for the wedding,” Mother said to Graves. “If you are gone, that is.”
“Of course she’ll have another situation by then,” Father decreed, much like his former self. “Cream always rises to the top.”
The freedom Amelia had schemed for was within reach. No more shadow. No more secretive rides in the dark of night. Even when her engagement ended, Graves would already have a new situation. She wouldn’t return. Mother would be busy with Father, which would limit trips to London. That, in turn, would lessen the need for another chaperone. Though, really, who would want to chaperone a supposedly broken-hearted, shelf-sitting, young lady?
Amelia’s world was about to change. And it made her want to hide under her bed.
*
Richard swiped theback of his gloved hand across his brow, dashing sweat away before it dripped into his eyes. Sawdust drifted from his forearm and his work shirt peeled from his shoulders. It had been years since he’d worked like this.
And he loved it.
“If you’ve finished preening,” Oliver said. His brown hair was darker at the ends where it stuck to his forehead and temples, and a wide smile spread over his damp face.
Richard hefted his end of the freshly hewn log into the wagon and walked it backward until his heels bumped against the stack already waiting. “Careful, I’dhateto drop this on your foot.” He balanced the log on its companions and kept a steady hand on its rough head.
“Thea wouldn’t know whether to punch you for damaging me or hug you for making me stay home.” The last words came through a grunt as he shoved from the bottom. “Did you save this bloody great beast for me on purpose?”
Bark splintered and flew, and Richard leaned away to avoid being stuck in the eye. “It’s smaller than the ones we began with. Perhaps your age is showing.”
The log slotted into the crease on the pile, completing the second to last row in the pyramid. Richard gave the structure a shove and a hearty kick to ensure it was stable and then leapt to the ground. The landing jarred even his teeth. Perhaps age… “But then maybe it’s just been a difficult few days.” He slapped Oliver’s sweaty shoulder. “You’re up next.”
With Oliver serving as guide in the wagon, Richard pushed against the next log’s weight, his boots sliding on the gravel and his shoulders aching with the strain. He relaxed only when it dropped into place with a deceptively soft thud and didn’t send the ones below it into a slide.
Oliver leapt from the wagon, bouncing on his feet as he landed. He’d done the same almost ten years ago when they’d cut their first load of timber. “How difficult could a party have been?”
Richard had a headache, which was either from the hangover or from the sudden release of tension. “You know whattonpeople are like.” He’d never been so glad to see the backs of carriages as they’d crossed under Oakdale’s gates.
“I do,” Oliver said. “But I also remember what you said when I harassed you about your nights in clubs.You have to meet people where they are.I actually repeat that every time I enter the chamber at lords or a ballroom during the Season. It’s my job.” He shrugged and gave a lopsided grin. “One of them anyway. We’d best get back or the lads will have nothing to saw.”
Given that two heavily loaded wagons had already rocked and rumbled out of the forest, the saws could likely run for days. Oliver hated to be idle. It was a trait Richard shared, which was one thing that had been so trying about helping Amelia over the past few days.
“How did she cope with the abrupt end to the house party?” Oliver asked as they lurched toward the turnaround, the harnesses straining over the draft team’s broad backs.
“She’s been burning the wick at both ends, so I believe she’s glad it’s over,” Richard said.
“I’m guessing she wasn’t happy with the interruption they brought in the first place, given that she’s building up her stock.” Oliver maneuvered the team into the turn while Richard kept a wary eye on their cargo. He didn’t know if he had the energy to reload the wagon.
It was a relief to talk about Amelia’s business rather than their supposed romantic connection. “It will do her good to return to regular hours.” He wouldn’t have to worry over her haring about in the dark or, more dangerous, accompanying her. Nights alone in the shadows were far too tempting.
“And Fletcher can go back to London,” Richard continued. He liked the man, but Amelia’s comment about him taking an axe to her barrels rankled.
“They do spend a great deal of time together,” Oliver said. “But I never expected you to be jealous.”
