Page 67 of His Spirited Lady
“Doctor Anderson will be visiting Father later this morning.” Amelia reestablished her posture. “If Mother worsens, he can see her then as well.”
“But surely—”
“Calling him out early will worry Father, which will in turn concern Mother.” Amelia resisted rubbing her temple. “She claims to simply be tired.” She raised her palm to stop an argument. “Let her rest before we panic, Mrs. Carter.”
The ring of authority in her voice shocked Amelia as much as it did the housekeeper.
“As you wish. If there’s nothing else—”
“There is. Mother is concerned about the rooms for wedding guests, but I assume you already have the staff working on those and you will let me know if you need anything.”
“Yes.”
“The wedding is two weeks away. Does Cook have the menu in hand?” They would be sending baskets to all the tenants for months after the wedding was canceled. Or they could use it for—
She would not think of a funeral and she would not cry, no matter how badly her eyes stung.
“We know your favorite foods, but what of Mr. Ferrand’s?”
He could like liver and onions for all Amelia knew, though he didn’t taste like it. Based on that, she’d guess he preferred berries and cream. “I’ll ask.”
Mrs. Carter’s dubious expressions said it all.Lady Amelia is marrying a stranger on a whim. She always was an impulsive girl.
Thetonwould be saying that about her for years to come. Would that be what her friends said of her whiskey?
“Cook would welcome you in the kitchen to discuss the cake, and the gardener would like to discuss flowers that will be available.” She frowned again. “They will be less show stopping than in summer.”
Noflowers will be even less show stopping.
Amelia’s glanced to the window, watching her chance to escape leave without her. It couldn’t be helped. She was needed here to plan an imaginary event, waste her parents’ money and her servants’ time.
Worse, the wedding became more real each time it was mentioned. She had counted on her parents’ insistence on formality to allow time to formulate an excuse to cry off. She hadn’t expected reading the banns to weave a romantic spell. Sleep evaded her as she created a wedding guest list of her own, shorter than her mother’s, but more meaningful. Her dreams were full of lemon chiffon cake and bouquets of fall flowers. And her dress? In her head, it was the gold one waiting in her closet.
Crying off was going to be painful. The best she could do was minimize the disaster.
“I’m sure whatever they decide will be fine.” Amelia brushed past Mrs. Carter on her way to the door. “I’d planned for a ride this morning.”
“And your parents?” The arch question matched her arched brow. This was the woman who had ruled with an iron fist in the era between one mother’s death and another’s arrival.
“I will be back well before Dr. Anderson arrives. The modiste is scheduled soon after. Mother says Father is simply tired. I have told yousheis as well. That should be enough.”
“Young lady.”
“That isMy Lady, Mrs. Carter. Whether or not you agree with my decisions.” Amelia met the housekeeper’s hard gaze and locked her knees to keep them from knocking. “Now…I am going to enjoy my home for the precious little time I have left to do so.”
*
“The job requiresdiscretion,” Richard said. “Secrecy.”
“But the distillery isn’t illegal?” Ben Latimer was a tall, lean man. The latter likely a consequence of his recent walk through Scotland and back. His hair, the color of Carys’s, was clubbed back in a neat tail that wasn’t fashionable, but he was clean shaven and his clothes were soldier-neat. He could have been mustering for drill.
“Not illegal at all.”With the exception of the charade over its origin.“Just…unusual, which you will come to understand.”
“And you want me to be a watchman and do any heavy lifting?”
“Mr. Brewer has hired local children who work before and after school, and his landlord stops by on occasion. Baron Kilverstone’s daughter.”
“Lady Amelia?”
