Page 62 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
Amelia’s heart skipped a beat. Surely he knew she had spent the night outside. Constance would not have held back in delighting to impart such a detail. Now it seemed the earl was toying with her.
“No, Nicholas, I didn’t,” she replied, though she was not about to give him the satisfaction of making a scene.
She looked up at him, and he returned her gaze with fearful confusion.
“I’m sorry to hear it. These old houses can be very creaky, can’t they?” he said, and she nodded.
“Yes. They certainly have their secrets to reveal,” she replied.
Now, he looked even more confused, but his attention was distracted by the opening of the dining room door once again. It was Constance, and it seemed she had timed her entry to be the last, appearing in a garish purple gown, more suited to the masquerade than the breakfast table.
“Good morning, Constance. I trust my little stories didn’t keep you from your slumber last night?” Lord Thornton asked.
“They were nothing but children’s stories. I wasn’t afraid of them at all,” Constance replied. Taking the last empty chair, she called for the footman to pour her coffee.
Amelia glanced at her. Her hands were trembling with anger as she took a bite of toast and marmalade. Constance did not even look at her. She was too busy complaining that her coffee was not hot enough. Amelia did not know how she had the nerve to even be there.
The horrible thought of what was about to happen was hanging over her like the sword of Damocles. But her mind was made up, after breakfast, she would leave, and no one would know she was gone until it was too late to send out a search party or attempt to bring her back.
“And what do you have planned for us today, my Lord? More parlor games? More carols? A magnificent dinner?” Sir Samuel asked, and Nicholas nodded.
“A time of leisure, too. It is Christmas Day, after all. But yes, I’m sure the younger members of our party will be only too keen for some boisterous entertainment,” he said.
But again, it seemed to Amelia as though his tone was one of forced joviality, and behind his façade, a sorrowful countenance rested. Constance looked up from her toast and marmalade.
“I think you’ll all enjoy the day very much.it’s going to be quite a celebration. Isn’t it, Nicholas?” she said, and Nicholas nodded.
“Yes, quite a celebration,” he replied.
Harry now rose from the table, excusing himself, and slipping out of the room.
“Indigestion,” Lord Thornton muttered, shaking his head.
Amelia sighed. She wanted nothing more than to leave as soon as possible. She stole another glance at Nicholas, and was surprised to find him watching her with that same sorrowful look in his eyes.
“Amelia. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay here at Ashworth. It’s been a delight to have you,” he said.
Amelia’s heart skipped a beat. Had they not been surrounded by the company of the others, she would gladly have told him of her “delight.” Instead, she forced a smile to her lips and nodded.
“Oh, yes. It’s been delightful,” she replied, and he nodded.
“I’m glad to hear it. I hope nothing spoils it for you,” he replied.
“Why would anything spoil it for me?” she asked, her hands trembling as she spoke.
“I don’t know. I just… well, you’re away from home, and I know it hasn’t been easy for you. Rupert…” he said, glancing at the locket.
Amelia raised her hand to her neck. It made her feel sick to hear him mention Rupert’s name. Rupert was a good, honorable, kind, and decent man. How swiftly she had cast his memory aside, telling herself he would have wanted for her to find love with another man. But no man could replace the one she had loved so much. She shook her head, rising from the table, even as the other guests continued to eat their breakfast.
“No, it hasn’t. But his memory gives me strength,” she said, and turning on her heels, and not her heeding her mother’s questioning glance, she hurried out of the dining room.
Amelia knew she did not have long to make her escape. The guests would soon finish breakfast, and gather in the drawing room for parlor games and to hear Mrs. Bennett play the pianoforte. She hurried upstairs, not wanting to meet Elsie or any of the other servants as she went. She had no definite plan.
She only wanted to get away from Ashworth House and its wicked occupant as quickly as possible. She would make for the village, or the nearest inn, and hope to find space on a mail coach heading for London. Her father would be surprised to see her, but he would understand when she explained.
“But I can’t tell mother. She’d only be angry with me,”Amelia told herself, as now she came to the landing, pausing, and listening for the sound of footsteps or voices.
But the house was quiet, and hurrying along the landing, she came to her bedroom door. She was about to open it when a sound caused her to pause.
