Page 80 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
Amelia smiled, her thoughts on the kiss she had just shared with the earl. There had been a deeper sense of intimacy in their kiss than there had been in their previous passionate encounters. Something had changed between them. A lot had changed between them. This was no longer the snatched pleasure of an encounter, which meant nothing, but the shared intimacy of what was to come.
“But I’m all right. Nicholas the earl came to my rescue,” Amelia replied.
Elsie shook her head and tutted.
“I’m so sorry, my Lady, leaving you out in the cold like that… the butler told me, if you’ll forgive me… it’s the talk of below stairs. The rest of the servants have just come back from their day off… I’m so sorry,” she said, and Amelia smiled.
“It’s all right, Elsie. I feel much better. I was just exhausted, that’s all. But there’s no harm done,” Amelia replied.
“The sooner we get back to London, the better. Life in the countryside isn’t for me, though I won’t say I wasn’t… pleased to be invited to Jackson’s mother’s house for the day. She keeps a good table, and we played all manner of parlor games. She has a little one; Martha, they all call her. Oh, she’s a delight, my Lady. She was forever climbing into my lap, and…” the maid said, but Amelia had closed her eyes and was no longer listening.
She felt tired and wanted only to go to sleep. Elsie now quietened down, promising to return later on to check on her.
“Don’t let my mother come back. I just want to be alone,” Amelia said.
“I’ll tell her, my Lady. Don’t worry,” Elsie said, and having fussed a little more, straightening the blankets and plumping the pillows, she left the room.
Amelia breathed a sigh of relief, tiredness now overwhelming her, and with her head lolling to one side, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. She awoke to the sound of the clock on the mantelpiece striking midnight, the chimes rousing her like a distant church clock.
She sat up, realizing how long she had slept. There was no one else in the room, and the curtains had been pulled across the window. The remnants of a fire burned in the hearth, and a single, flickering candle stood on the mantelpiece.
“I’ve slept for hours,”she thought to herself, feeling a sudden thirst and hunger, too.
But sleep had been restorative, and now she pulled back the blankets, getting out of bed and wrapping a robe around herself, intent on going downstairs to find something to eat and drink.
The house was quiet, the other guests having long since retired, and the servants now in bed. Amelia had taken the candle with her, its light casting shadows over the walls as she made her way downstairs, pausing in the hallway.
“Perhaps they’ve left something out from dinner,”she thought to herself, for she did not like the idea of going down to the kitchens and losing her way in the dark below stairs.
The drawing room door was slightly ajar, and the yule log was still smoldering in the hearth, waiting to be reignited the next morning. There was a lingering smell of brandy in the air, and a large bowl on a table in the center of the room suggested the guests had once again been playing snapdragon.
The door to the dining room was open, and Amelia picked her way cautiously across the room, finding the remnants of dinner still laid out on the table, along with several half-finished bottles of claret. It was a simple enough thing to fill a plate and pour herself a glass of wine. She sat down at the table to eat, thinking back to all that had happened to her over these last few eventful days.
“And soon, it’ll be over,”she told herself, for she did not know what would happen when she and her mother returned home to London.
Amelia knew what she wanted to happen, and certainly she did not want it to be like her dream of the beach and her encounter with Nicholas after all those months away. Her feelings for him were growing stronger with every passing moment, and the thought of leaving him filled her with fear. She did not want to leave the earl, or Ashworth House, behind. They had become familiar to her; they had become her intimates.
“Would he let me stay?”she wondered to herself, even as she knew her mother would never allow it.
“Think of the scandal,” she would say, even as Nicholas was hardly free from such things himself.
But if they were to be together, the matter had to be done properly. If a courtship was to ensue, Nicholas would have to ask Amelia’s father… there was so much to consider. Love was never simple. But as she finished her plate of food, a noise in the drawing room caused her to startle.
“I thought I heard someone come down,” a voice from the doorway said, and Amelia startled, looking up to find Nicholas smiling at her.
He was still dressed, and it seemed he had not yet retired to bed. He entered the dining room, taking a seat opposite her, even as Amelia began to apologize.
“I was hungry, and…” she said, but the earl shook his head.
“You don’t need to explain. I’d be hungry, too, if I’d slept as many hours as you. We didn’t like to disturb you,” he said, and Amelia smiled.
“I did sleep… very well,” she said, pushing her empty plate to one side.
He smiled back at her, reaching out to take her hand in his.
“I’ve been worried about you,” he said.
“You don’t need to be. I’m quite all right. Really, I am. I feel much better now. I was just tired. But tell me, Nicholas… have you made your peace with Edmund? The two of you surely had so much to talk about,” Amelia said.
