Page 34 of A Delicate Deception
She was trying not to consider what role her conversation with Sydney played in her assessment of the evening. She was trying not to think about Sydney at all, because that look of abject regret on his face had been so much like something she might have expected fromherSydney, not the cruel stranger she had met the previous week.
When, the next day, Georgiana announced that she meant to call at Pelham Hall, Amelia automatically reached for her boots and shawl.
“You don’t need to come along,” Georgiana said. “I only mean to bring Hereford some of our strawberries and let him amuse me with his bad opinions.”
Amelia narrowed her eyes. “You two were as thick as thieves last night.” She glanced at the basket of strawberries that was looped over Georgiana’s arm. “Georgiana Russell, are you throwing your cap at the duke?” She meant it as a joke, and was stunned to see Georgiana blush.
“Not in the way you mean,” Georgiana said. “You know I have no interest in men, not in that way. But I like him. So you needn’t accompany me unless you have a longing to see Pelham Hall in the daylight.”
Ameliahadwanted a chance to properly see the grounds of Pelham Hall, but that was before things went so wrong with Sydney. “I could walk around the garden,” she said, surprised to find that the idea didn’t distress her. “It would just be a walk.”
“And if you hate it, you can turn on your heel and return home,” Georgiana said.
As they approached Pelham Hall, they were greeted by a small child wearing nothing but a shift, running helter-skelter down the lane, followed by a woman in a pinafore and cap.
“Stop, you wretched child.Arrêt!” the woman said. “Oh, heaven help me, please don’t run into the brook, you imp!”
The child ran into the brook. Before Amelia could quite make sense of what she had seen, Georgiana stepped out of her boots and waded into the water. The water was low, so the child was merrily splashing rather than actively drowning, but Georgiana had her out in half a minute.
“What could you have been thinking?” Georgiana asked in a tone Amelia knew quite well from when her younger sisters had gotten into mischief. “Do you think your mama wants to ruin her boots chasing after you?”
“Mamanestmorte,”the child said.“Mestantessontmortes. Mononclemonsieur leducn’estpasmortemaisilestfou.”
“C’esttoiqui esfolle,”Georgiana said, slipping into brisk French.“Etc’esttoiquidoittesécherett’excuserauprèsde”—she glanced at the woman in the cap—“de ta bonne.”
Heavy footsteps pounded down the lane, and Amelia whipped around to see Mr. Goddard running towards them.
“Is she—”
“She’s quite all right,” Amelia reassured him. “No, really, there’s no need to run after her. She doesn’t need two adults ruining their clothes.”
Georgiana led the child out of the water. She clapped her hands together and gestured for the child to go to the maid.“Vas-y!”she said.
The child flashed a sullen glance at Georgiana but proceeded to the maid.“Jesuisdésolée, Marie,”she said dutifully. Then she caught sight of Mr. Goddard and all but flung herself into his arms, babbling in broken English. He responded in halting French.
There was an obvious family resemblance between Mr. Goddard and the little girl. She was fair where he was dark, but the likeness was there nonetheless. Was she a niece? His own daughter? Whatever the case, he was fond of the child, and she returned the sentiment. It was yet another unwanted reminder that Mr. Goddard was capable of warmth, that he was more than stern disapproval and furrowed dark eyebrows. In fact, if she disregarded that one terrible day at Pelham Hall and their subsequent encounter in the lane, Sydney had been unfailingly kind to her from the beginning. She rather wished she had not come to that realization, because now she felt the pull of whatever they had been to one another. If she were another person, she might be able to let herself be pulled, to let her heart go unguarded. But that was so laughably far from what she felt herself capable of that she felt alone, mere inches from him.
Chapter Fifteen
“Thank you,” Sydney said to Georgiana Russell. “I can’t begin to thank you. Leontine recently lost her mother and I’m afraid we’ve been spoiling her terribly.”
“Children are all very naughty at that age,” Georgiana said. “Miss Allenby’s youngest sister used to climb out on the roof. She gave the entire household nightmares.”
“Miss Russell was my governess,” Amelia explained.
“And it would seem a very competent one,” Sydney added.
“Certainly an experienced one,” Georgiana said. “From when I was sixteen, until last year when Amelia carried me away.” She smiled fondly at Amelia.
Sydney added that to the paltry store of actual facts he had collected about Amelia Allenby: she was the illegitimate daughter of a marquess and a woman with social aspirations, she seemed to support herself by writing, she had left London under a cloud, she tried to be a good friend. It seemed grossly unfair that he only got to know her after things were impossible between them. He knew he only had himself to blame for that.
“The duke is on the terrace,” Sydney said. “Or, it’s more or less a terrace, minus a few flagstones.” He had cleared most of the rubble away with his own hands so Lex could safely walk outside.
“Excellent,” Georgiana said brightly. She strode off ahead, leaving Sydney alone with Amelia.
Sydney couldn’t have said whether he tilted his arm to Amelia, or whether she reached for him, or whether they moved at the same time, their bodies remembering a friendship that their minds had discarded. But either way, Amelia’s hand rested lightly on his forearm as they continued to walk.
They reached the back of the house, where there had once been a maze or labyrinth. It was all overgrown and riddled with weeds, and would likely need to be torn out. Only after wondering whether the gardener Lex had hired could manage the task on his own, or whether he would need to hire helpers, did Sydney realize he was starting to envision a future at Pelham Hall. He immediately pushed the thought aside.
