Undressed by the Earl (28 page)

“We don’t have to be enemies, you know,” she pointed out.

“I loathe shopping.” Her stepdaughter put on a long face and said, “And since we’re alone, you needn’t pretend to like me. I know you don’t.”

Amelia shrugged. “I can’t say it’s easy to like someone who tells me that I’m not wanted, and she’d rather resent me than get to know me.”

At that, the girl quieted. Her expression held wariness, and when Amelia stepped forward, at least her stepdaughter followed. Glancing back at Christine, she asked, “Who created the gowns you’re wearing?”

Christine gripped her skirts, her face holding wariness. “They were my mother’s, from when she was a girl. I have no need of new clothes, since I have everything she wore.”

It was now becoming clear that the girl was clinging as hard to the past as her father.

“Do you remember your mother at all? What was she like?” Amelia prompted.

“I was five when she died. I hardly remember her at all,” Christine admitted. She sniffed and blew her nose in the handkerchief. “But Papa told me stories about her. And sometimes, if I close my eyes tight enough, I can remember what it felt like to be in her arms. She did love me.”

There was a deep hunger for affection in the girl’s voice. “So does your father,” Amelia offered. “You mean the world to him.” She opened the door to the first shop and waited for Christine to follow. “I’m trying to talk him into staying with us over the summer.”

“He won’t,” the girl insisted. “He’s too busy traveling. I ask him every year, and he always says no.” She sniffled again and sneezed.

Amelia guessed the earl was avoiding the house, and a thought occurred to her. “When did your mother die?”

“Six years ago,” Christine answered.

“Was it in the summertime?” Amelia walked over to look at a few bolts of fabric, keeping her voice low.

Her stepdaughter nodded. “In July.”

Amelia didn’t bother asking if Katherine had died at Castledon. Undoubtedly she had, particularly if the earl was avoiding this place every summer. It likely brought back bad memories.

To change the subject, she held up a bolt of rose muslin. “This is lovely. We could have a new dress made for you, and a ribbon of the same color for your hair.”

“I told you, I don’t need anything new to wear.”

But Amelia didn’t miss the way the girl’s attention drifted to a bolt of lilac muslin. On impulse, she saw a length of deep violet ribbon and beckoned for the shopkeeper to approach. There was nothing Amelia enjoyed more than bargaining, particularly when it came to shopping. Perhaps it was because her family had endured poverty in the years her father had been fighting in the war. Although Aphrodite’s Unmentionables had made it possible for her to buy new gowns and ribbons without worrying about the cost, she still couldn’t bring herself to break old habits.

After the shopkeeper offered her the ribbon for one shilling, Amelia shook her head and sighed. “That is not at all the price they would charge for such ribbon in London.” To Christine, she added, “Now you must be careful whilst shopping, to ensure that you do not pay more than the ribbon is worth.”

“It’s quite a fair price, my lady,” the shopkeeper protested. The man appeared indignant that she would question him, until Amelia sent him a sly smile.

“For those who do not know better, I am sure you are right.” Then she returned to the lilac muslin. “Now, the purple ribbon would make an excellent trim if I were to purchase four yards of this material. Lady Christine will need new gowns, and I know you would not try to ask too high of a price.”

His eyes gleamed as he understood the game. “Perhaps if she also requires a new bonnet, we could come to an understanding on the price.”

Amelia sent him an answering smile. “There may be some items I will choose for myself. But only as long as we remain in discussion about how you’re going to lower the prices for me.”

The man now appeared delighted, and he invited them to look around more. “Why don’t you find what else is to your liking, and I’m certain we can agree upon a price that satisfies both of us?”

“We don’t need any of this,” Christine argued, sneezing again. “And why would you ask him to change the prices?”

“Has no one ever taken you shopping before?” she asked. When the girl shook her head, Amelia saw the bewilderment there.

“Well, Lady Christine, you are about to learn one of the joys of being a woman.”

They spent the remainder of the day exploring the village, and Amelia purchased several bolts of muslin and lengths of ribbon for the young girl. She also arranged for a dressmaker to come to Castledon the next day to measure Christine for the new clothing. When they had finished for the day, the girl looked as if she was about to fall asleep. She leaned her head against the back of the carriage seat with a heavy sigh.

“Are you feeling all right?” Amelia asked. “You look tired.”

“It’s nothing,” Christine insisted, sniffling again. “But we didn’t need most of those things. My father will be very cross with you for buying so much.”

“You will need all of it when you accompany us to London next Season,” Amelia said. “And once the new gowns are ready, you will love them, I promise you.”

“I
like
wearing my mother’s clothes,” the girl insisted.

“There is nothing wrong with that.” Amelia kept her voice gentle, knowing it was Christine’s way of holding on to a piece of her mother. “But it’s nice to have new things as well.”

“If you’re trying to get me to like you by buying me things, it won’t work,” her stepdaughter insisted.

Amelia sighed. “Frankly, Christine, I don’t care if you like me or not. Your father asked me to help you prepare for your debut in society, and you have a great deal to learn. I’m helping you out of courtesy to
him
, more than anything else.”

The words were harsher than she’d intended, but it was the truth. David had rescued her from a scandal by marrying her. She’d promised to uphold her end of the bargain by taking care of his daughter—a daughter who wanted nothing to do with her.

On the journey back, Amelia drank in the sight of the green countryside with stone walls separating the land. The rolling hills and moors were sprinkled with trees, and the big blue sky seemed to embrace the land with lacy white clouds. Here at Castledon, she could almost imagine the stories of King Arthur and Camelot. It was near Yorkshire, and sometimes, on a clear day, she could see the gray sea, dotted with stones.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said, shielding her eyes against the sun. “You must love drawing the landscape.”

“I don’t actually like to draw,” Christine admitted, dabbing at her nose. “I learned how because Miss Grant said that all young ladies must learn how to sketch and paint. But I’m not any good at it.”

“Your father thinks you are,” she said softly.

“He’s never here,” the girl admitted. “He doesn’t know anything about me.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she was used to being left alone.

It made Amelia wonder if she’d guessed correctly about the girl’s true interests. She had arranged a surprise for Christine—a purchase the girl hadn’t known about. The brown paper parcel rested beside her, filled with different colors of ink, new quills, and paper. Amelia thought it might make a strong peace offering.

“When we’re home, I want to go up into the attic,” she said. “We might find a place for you to enjoy reading books.” She shot her a sidelong glance. “Or somewhere you could write your stories.”

“Why would I want to write stories in a dusty, hot attic?” Her stepdaughter dismissed the idea as ridiculous, but Amelia wouldn’t be deterred. Christine hadn’t denied that she liked to write, which made her think that she was on the right path.

“You never know what we might find up there. There might be more of your mother’s belongings. Let’s go and look.”

“I don’t want to. And besides—no one is allowed in the attic. Not even the servants.”

Now that piqued Amelia’s curiosity. “Why? Is your father trying to hide something up there?”

The girl paused a moment. “He says it’s not a place for children.”

“Oh, come, now. Use your imagination. Your father hasn’t gone there in years. He forbids the servants to enter.” Amelia lowered her voice in hushed excitement. “Perhaps there’s a ghost who haunts the attic at night, keening for—”

“My mother isn’t a ghost,” Christine snapped.

Amelia stopped at once, for she hadn’t been thinking of that at all. “That wasn’t what I meant, Christine. I promise you, I would never imply something so cruel.”

The girl went silent, staring outside. And now Amelia wished she’d never brought it up. “I was only trying to inspire a story, that’s all. I was imagining the ghost of someone who lived here hundreds of years ago.”

“The house isn’t that old,” Christine pointed out.

“Houses are often built on the site of an older dwelling,” Amelia said. “I know many castles were built upon the ruins of medieval fortresses.” She tried to entertain the girl on the way back with tales of history, but it seemed Christine had no interest in it.

When they were almost home, the girl interrupted her. “Why did you marry my father? Was it for his fortune?”

“No!” Amelia couldn’t believe her stepdaughter would believe such a thing. But neither did she want to tell the girl about the viscount’s attempt to elope with her. “He…needed a wife and a mother for you. And I found him to be a good man.” She softened her voice. “He loves you very much.”

Christine stared down at her shoes and dabbed at her nose again. “He might love me as his daughter. But he doesn’t like me very much.” She cast a sidelong glance at Amelia. “He’s going to leave in a few weeks, and we won’t see him until winter. You’ll see.”

The bitterness in her voice revealed a lonely girl who’d been hurt time and again. Amelia was beginning to see why she’d wanted her father to marry again. “I’ll try to change his mind.”

Christine sent her a dark smile. “If I couldn’t change his mind, what makes you think you can?”

The restless need to leave pulled at David. He often traveled south during this time of year, to Thornwyck, an estate near Wales. It was quiet, and the income was primarily from sheep and goats. There were no memories of Katherine there, for she’d never visited the property. It was the perfect place to escape, and right now, he needed a few weeks of solitude.

With each day he spent at Amelia’s side, he found himself daydreaming about her. She embraced him openly, giving so much of herself, while he felt guilty for not giving enough. Friendship would never be adequate for Amelia. She needed a husband who would love her.

The sanctuary beckoned to him, and David ordered his valet to begin packing his belongings. “At once, my lord,” the man agreed.

David stood before Katherine’s room, and the silent tread of footsteps approached. Without looking up, he knew who was standing there.

“You’re already leaving?” Amelia came up behind him, her face concerned. “I thought you would stay with Christine and me for a little longer.”

“It’s time that I visited Thornwyck,” he told her. “It won’t be for long, and then I’ll return.”

Amelia studied him for a moment, and then her hand closed over the doorknob to Katherine’s room. “May I go inside?”

He wanted to refuse, but then, what purpose was there in hiding what was now only an empty bedchamber? “If you want to.”

“Will you come with me?” She held out her hand, and he hesitated.

“I should speak with the servants and ensure that the coach is ready for my departure in the morning.”

“Please,” she said gently.

He took her hand, and when she opened the door, the trunk was still in the middle of the floor where he’d left it. Silk gowns and bonnets overflowed from the lid, but Amelia said nothing about it. Instead, she closed the door behind her.

“Do you want my help?” she asked, after a few minutes had passed. “If you tell me what you want removed from the room, I’ll see to it.”

“Leave it.” This was his task to bear, and he didn’t want her to intervene. “There’s no need for you to bother her belongings.”

Amelia moved forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. He knew he ought to embrace her, but in this room he found it all but impossible. “I bought some new clothes for Christine yesterday. She’s outgrown hers, and I heard that she was wearing Katherine’s old gowns.”

“She can have them if she wants them,” he said. “Though I imagine they’re too long for her.”

“David, if you must go to Thornwyck, take us with you,” Amelia pleaded. “Christine feels as if you abandon her all the time.”

He said nothing, for in all likelihood it was true. He knew very little about children, and though he loved his daughter, he had no idea what her needs were.

“She has you now,” he said. “You’ll be there for her when I can’t be.”

“She despises me,” Amelia countered. “She had the idea that you should have wed Miss Grant, her governess.”

“Miss Grant was past forty,” he countered. “She couldn’t have given me an heir for Castledon if she’d wanted to.”

“I could,” Amelia said softly.

He knew it, and the very mention of giving her a child distracted him with the way her lips were moving and the proximity of her body.