Page 74 of His Spirited Lady
“I’ll do it personally, miss.” He turned to Thea and bowed, coming up with a twinkle in his eye and wide smile. “Your Grace. How lovely to see you again.”
Martin always saved his best smiles for Thea.
“Darling girl.” Octavia swept through the crowd and took her hands. “You look every inch the happy bride-to-be. Thea wrote me of your news.” Her sharp gaze swept the room. “Where is your fiancé? He did accept your invitation?”
In a manner of speaking.Heat flooded Amelia’s face, and she masked it by taking a cup of tea from an attentive young maid. The hot, sweet liquid soothed her raw throat even as the lemon juice found the irritated spots. It was just as she liked it. One only had to order tea once in this house.
“He and Lord Rushford are delivering wine and white whiskey to my cousin Jasper in preparation for a party this evening.” Amelia searched the crowd herself. “Has Drake arrived?” He had picked up a case of whiskey yesterday afternoon with the plan to sell it to establishments he knew.
“Not yet, but I’m sure he’s fine.” Octavia sipped her coffee. “You, on the other hand, sound awful. Have you come down with a cold, or is it this dreadful air?”
It came from a night Amelia had thought was a dream when she woke in bed this morning, her book on a nearby table with a lily marking her place, with no recollection of how she’d been transported from the library. It wasn’t until her nightshirt brushed against her that she suspected it had been no dream. Finger-shaped bruises in hidden places had confirmed it, as had a throat raw from screaming in pleasure against his salty palm. It had been the most exquisite torture.
“It was a long day yesterday, Octavia. I am well.”
Which was a lie. She had hopped from precipice to pinnacle all morning, first pretending over breakfast that her world hadn’t shifted. Every time she looked at Richard, she fought the urge to drag him into a corner and kiss him until he gave her something she knew he was withholding but couldn’t name. Because all Mother had said was that she should never be alone with a man for fear of something scandalous that would leave her pregnant. If girls fell pregnant from kissing, half the women in society would have been with child by the end of the Season, And that’s all Richard had done to her. Essentially. Heat bloomed deep in her belly as she recalled his fingers dipping inside her.
Well, touching didn’t leave one pregnant either. And pondering it didn’t dispel her other worry.
This was the Circle’s first opportunity to see what their risk had produced, to declare whether she was successful and learn what her plans were for the future. None of which she knew without Richard and Drake.
“Amelia, I’d like you to meet someone.” Octavia put a hand on Amelia’s shoulder, directing her to a small, thin woman. “Mrs. Reid, this is the young lady I mentioned last week, Amelia Chitester. Amelia, this is Elizabeth Reid.”
“It is a pleasure, Mrs. Reid. Are you new to the Circle as well?”
The woman looked up, making Amelia feel like a giant. Her sharp eyes and quick smile contrasted with the gray threading through her hair. “A friend invited me here to meet charitably-minded ladies who would be willing to take a risk on a new venture.”
“If they’ll take a risk on me, surely they’ll consider you,” Amelia chuckled. She remembered the looks on the members’ faces as a baron’s daughter had stood in front of them bragging that she made the most sought-after white whiskey in Norfolk, but she needed funds to expand into aged spirits, and that it would take two years to see any return. She had had her detractors, but the support had been overwhelming. Perhaps she could do the same for Mrs. Reid. “What is your venture?”
“A university for women. I believe it’s time England’s young ladies learned more than how to be good wives and hostesses, though education makes them better at that as well.” She smiled. “No offense, Miss Chitester.”
“None taken, and please, call me Amelia.” She left Octavia’s side to stand next to Mrs. Reid. “You need investors for the university?”
“My late husband left me enough for that, as well as other things.” Mrs. Reid faced her. “But the university will not be successful if students aren’t prepared to enter, and the current governess system is too unreliable.”
Amelia nodded. She’d been lucky to have Graves, whose father had been a professor at Oxford. Margaret Gerard’s governess had been more interested in her needlework.
Thinking of Margaret brought all the girls in Thetford to mind. Thea, like Graves, had benefited from her father’s conviction that she be educated. In turn, she and Oliver had been insistent that the vicar include village girls in the classroom, though no student learned more than basic skills. Boys like Simon, who would move on to university, were an anomaly. Girls like Florence were unheard of. “Would you take low-born girls?”
“I would take any young lady who could pay tuition and pass the entrance exam, so long as she was truly interested in education,” Mrs. Reid said. “The key is preparing students to enter the university, filling the gap between governesses or village schools. I’m here to encourage your members to consider sponsoring preparatory programs.”
The door opened, bringing the fall wind in to brush against skirts and shawls. Drake entered with it. His height gave the impression of a heron standing amongst lily pads—if all-black herons existed.
“I would like to visit with you more, Mrs. Reid, but I must speak with Mr. Fletcher.” Amelia squeezed the other woman’s hand in reassurance. “I am most interested in such a program.”
She reached Drake just Thea did.
“You’re a mess,” Thea said as she pulled him into the drawing room. “Are you well?
Amelia followed. He didn’t look unwell. He looked like Richard had done when he’d spun on her in the dark library last night. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“You could say that,” Drake muttered as he batted Thea’s hand from his cravat. “Thank you.” He faced the mirror, but talked to them as he righted his hair. “Thea, you have a grasp on your report already.” He tightened the knot at his throat before tugging his waistcoat. “Amelia, I reworked your figures in the coach on the way over.” He pulled the paper from his breast pocket. “I’ll read it because I don’t believe you’ll get through it with a straight face.”
Outside the door, Octavia called the meeting to order.
Drake buttoned his coat and offered each of them an elbow. “Since Oliver and Richard aren’t here, shall we?”
They took their places at the boardroom table, and Amelia thrilled at seeing each place set with Richard’s wine and her whiskey. Tasting wouldn’t be enough. The mere fact that she’d succeeded meant she needed a plan to ensure future success. A plan Richard had promised to help her create, but he wasn’t here.
