by Rose Pearson
“Very well,” she said with a small shrug. “I presume the lady is expecting me?”
“She is,” Mrs. Peters replied quickly, gesturing for Amelia to walk towards the door. “I was bold and introduced myself to her at the soiree last evening.”
Amelia gaped at her companion, not moving an inch. “Why would you do something so improper?” she asked hoarsely, her heart beginning to beat frantically. “The lady will think I am very rude, indeed!”
Mrs. Peters shrugged, reached out, and grasped Amelia’s arm gently. “I do not think she will,” she replied, beginning to guide Amelia towards the door. “She seemed quite understanding, and when I explained why I wished to set up a short introduction, I must say, Lady Smithton seemed to understand at once, even if she was a little surprised.”
Amelia wanted to groan aloud, not quite certain what had taken place but fearing her companion had overstepped in one way or another. She knew nothing of this lady but feared, already, there would be a bad impression of Amelia and her present circumstances.
“She will not think ill of you nor look down upon you,” Mrs. Peters said reassuringly. “She is very kind indeed and has had trials of her own. Her husband passed away when they were not long married, although his death has left her very wealthy and, as such, entirely independent.”
Amelia shook her head in disbelief, looking up at the staircase and groaning inwardly at the challenge that lay before her. Having to climb them to reach her bedchamber was one of the few things that truly irked her. She had asked her uncle to consider moving one of the bedchambers below stairs to help her with her limp, but he had steadfastly refused. Thus, she always had to climb them when the occasion required her to change, as it did today. Gripping the handrail with one hand, she clutched at it tightly before hauling her body up the stairs one at a time, trying not to put weight on her painful leg. If she did so, then a shooting agony would course up through her, making her catch her breath and wince. Her leg had never been the same since the day she had fallen from that tree all those years ago, and Amelia did not think it would ever improve. Her pain came daily and was something she had been forced to come to accept.
“Lady Smithton has, from what I understand, become willing to help two young ladies who have very few prospects and who will soon be considered too old to marry,” Mrs. Peters continued, walking slowly beside Amelia and not hurrying her in any way. “I am quite certain she will be able to help you also if you ask it of her.”
“Help me?” Amelia muttered, sweat beading on her brow as she tried to hurry forward. “What do you mean, Mrs. Peters?” She gritted her teeth and continued to make her way up the final few steps, desperate for the relief that would come when she reached the very top.
Mrs. Peters waved a hand, knowing all too well that Amelia did not want her help when it came to the staircase but remaining by her side regardless. “I do not know precisely what she will do,” she said with a quick shrug. “But it will be of greater help to you than I can be at this moment, I am certain of that. After all, she was wife to a Marquess, whereas I am nothing but a mere companion!”
Swallowing hard, Amelia held back her worries and fears, keeping them hidden behind her lips. She could not understand why the rich widow of a Marquess would wish to have any involvement with someone such as herself, but it seemed Mrs. Peters was quite confident that the lady was more than willing. It did not make particular sense to Amelia herself, but if there was to be even a flicker of hope she would make a success of this season, then did she not have to take every opportunity presented to her? Did she not have to try her utmost to do whatever she could so that she would not fail entirely?
“You have nothing to fear,” Mrs. Peters murmured as they walked together into Amelia’s bedchamber, with Amelia needing to sit down at once so that her leg would give her a little relief. “Lady Smithton is shrewd but kind. I know she will be willing to listen to everything you have to say—and you must tell her everything.”
“Everything?” Amelia repeated as Mrs. Peters walked to the wardrobe and threw back the doors, clearly searching for something that would be both appropriate and elegant for Amelia to wear. “What can you mean?”
Mrs. Peters’ voice reached her, a little muffled, as she thrust her head further inside the wardrobe. “You know very well what I mean, Amelia! You tell her about your father’s illness, your uncle taking on the title and the responsibility for you, about the dictate by him that you must find a suitor by the end of the season, and about your limp and how society treats you because of it. You must tell her of your hopes, your wishes for the future, as well as your fears. Tell her everything, Amelia, and tell her the truth. Only then will she be able to see you are truly in need of her help.”
Almost two hours later, Amelia found herself ushered into a very grand drawing room. It had beautiful furnishings that caught her eye everywhere she looked, with delicate touches that spoke of elegance and refinement. It appeared Mrs. Peters had been quite correct in her judgment that Lady Smithton was substantially wealthy!
“Ah, Lady Amelia,” came a kind voice, and Amelia turned to see a tall, youthful-looking lady walking towards her from the other end of the room. “And Mrs. Peters. How glad I am to see you both.”
Amelia dipped into a curtsy as best she could; her leg paining her, but she forced herself to do it anyway. “Thank you for agreeing to see me,” she stammered, not quite certain what else to say. “I will admit this has come as something of a surprise.”
Lady Smithton laughed and threw Mrs. Peters a glance. “Your companion was very persuasive indeed,” she answered, which made Mrs. Peters flush just a little. “Although I am very glad to make your acquaintance, Lady Amelia. Please, do sit down.” She gestured towards three chairs cloistered close towards a small fireplace, which was empty, with a carved stand set in front of it for decoration. “And I shall have refreshments sent in at once.”
Amelia, grateful to sit down, moved as quickly as she could, feeling her shame begin to creep up out of her soul all over again with the awareness that Lady Smithton could see her limp very clearly.
“Pray, do not be embarrassed,” Lady Smithton murmured, surprising Amelia with her awareness of what was going on in Amelia’s heart. “You have nothing to fear from me, Lady Amelia. I will not shame you nor whisper about you nor spread rumors or gossip, as I am certain so many others have done before.”
Amelia sank into a chair, waiting for Lady Smithton to do so also before she spoke. A quick glance towards Mrs. Peters confirmed the lady was expecting her to speak honestly, as she had been encouraged to do only a short time before.
“I—I am grateful for that, Lady Smithton,” she said, looking back at the lady and seeing the smile on her face that reached to her eyes. “You are quite right to suggest the ton are less than willing to overlook my limp. Their whispers grow quite overwhelming at times.”
Lady Smithton nodded, the smile fading from her face and being slowly replaced by a look of displeasure. “I quite understand,” she stated, firmly. “I have had a great many rumors chasing after me since my return to society—mostly surrounding the reasons behind my husband’s death, which some might like to implicate me in—so I well understand your struggle, Lady Amelia. You can have complete confidence in me. I shall not treat you as the beau monde have done.”
“I am delighted to hear it,” Amelia replied fervently. “I am short of understanding and compassionate acquaintances, Lady Smithton, so this has come as a very great relief.”
“But of course.” Lady Smithton made to say more but was prevented by the maids entering the room with trays stacked high with various delicacies. Amelia was astonished by the sheer amount presented, whilst Mrs. Peters began to smile in wonder.
“Please, help yourself and allow me to pour the tea,” Lady Smithton said, waving a hand towards the many different cakes, small pastries, and other treats. “And do not feel you need to fulfill any sort of propriety. I find I am vastly hungry around th
is time in the afternoon, and there is still a good length of time until I am to dine again!”
Amelia, seeing how Mrs. Peters did as Lady Smithton asked, took only a moment or two to follow suit, shooting a quick glance towards Lady Smithton out of the corner of her eye and thinking she was, in fact, quite different to any lady of quality she had met before. Perhaps there was a way for Lady Smithton to help her in her desire to find a suitor.
“Now,” Lady Smithton said once the tea had been served. “Mrs. Peters has become aware that I have offered to aid two young ladies who are nearing spinsterhood.” She gave Mrs. Peters a quick smile, a slightly teasing note in her voice. “Although quite how she has heard such a thing, I cannot say!”
Mrs. Peters did not look in the least abashed, saying nothing but smiling broadly.
“Therefore, I believe she hopes I can aid you in a similar fashion, Lady Amelia,” Lady Smithton continued without hesitation. “I presume your difficulties come from being seen only for your limp?”
There was not even a momentary pause as she spoke of Amelia’s limp. That was, Amelia decided, fairly refreshing, for Lady Smithton spoke forthrightly and did not once refrain from speaking of what might be seen as a delicate matter.
“I fell out of a tree when I was twelve years old,” she began by way of explanation. “My leg has never been the same. It is my own doing, I suppose, although—”
“I would not hold such a thing against you!” Lady Smithton interrupted, in evident surprise. “And nor would I be unwilling to help you because of it.”
Amelia smiled, feeling more and more encouraged. “I am very glad for your kindness,” she said quietly. “For not everyone sees the occasion of my accident as you do.” Pausing so that she might push back her sudden flood of tears, which had come from the simple kindness shown by Lady Smithton, Amelia drew in a long breath. “My uncle has taken on the title once carried by my father. I was late to the season given first my father’s illness and then my year of mourning. Last season was my debut, but it did not go particularly well, and no gentleman showed me any interest whatsoever—much to my uncle’s dismay. I must now find a suitor this year, but I cannot think there will be any more success this year than I had at the last. I am not changed in any way; my limp has not improved, and the ton is all the more eager to point out my struggles to anyone they can. Gentlemen do nothing but tease me, and not once have I been asked to dance.” A faint blush crept into her cheeks at the questioning look in Lady Smithton’s eyes. “I can dance some of the dances, Lady Smithton, but only if they are slow and do not require a great many steps.”
“And we are always concerned a gentleman’s feet might be heavy and could step on Lady Amelia’s foot, making her pain all the worse,” Mrs. Peters interjected, as Lady Smithton nodded in understanding. “But the beau monde appears to believe she is quite useless when it comes to dancing.”
Amelia’s face clouded at the truths that came from Mrs. Peters’ lips. It was just as she said, but still, the pain of it struck her heart, hard. “Do you think there is any hope, Lady Smithton?” she asked, fearing this would all come to naught. “Or am I to resign myself to my fate?”
Lady Smithton frowned. “You have no need to even consider the idea that there is no hope, Lady Amelia,” she stated, making Amelia’s heart flare with furious hope. “There are plenty of gentlemen who care nothing for such things and who have no intention of behaving as arrogantly or as callously as the gentlemen you have met thus far!” She sighed heavily and shook her head. “It displeases me there are so many gentlemen and ladies who behave in such an uncouth and uncivil manner. For whatever reason, they appear to flock together and grow in number when even a small matter of interest reaches their ears.”
“I could not agree more,” Mrs. Peters said, looking at Amelia with a hardness about her eyes that betrayed her dislike of the ton. “Lady Amelia has endured a great deal, and I have been seeking some way to encourage her.” She turned her attention back to Lady Smithton. “Are you able to help us further, Lady Smithton? Lady Amelia has no one to turn to, for both her parents are gone from this earth, and her uncle does not care to involve himself as he ought. I have done my best, but it is very little in comparison to what someone with such strong standing in society might do.”
Amelia felt herself blush, knowing Mrs. Peters was speaking very openly indeed, stating matters with such certainty that Amelia felt a little exposed. Daring a glance at Lady Smithton, she saw the lady look back at her steadily, her expression quite calm.
“But of course,” Lady Smithton said as Amelia lowered her gaze to the floor, now entirely overwhelmed by the lady’s kindness. “I will ensure you are introduced to gentlemen worthy of you, Lady Amelia. Without wishing to appear proud, I am quite certain no one will dare whisper about you within my hearing. In addition, my friend Lord Havisham will also assist.”
Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat, but it did not dislodge itself. Tears began to pool in her eyes, and she blinked hastily, not wanting to lose her composure in front of the lady, but she could not prevent one from slipping out and running down her cheek.
“Oh, do excuse me,” she murmured, embarrassed. “I did not mean to—”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Lady Smithton said quietly. “You have endured a great deal thus far, Lady Amelia. I quite understand that. But you will no longer have to struggle. There is friendship here, waiting for you. I shall introduce you to the other young ladies, and you will see there is a kinship between you all that will both encourage and strengthen you. You will find you are no longer alone in your suffering.” She smiled and leaned forward in her chair, her eyes filled with a hope Amelia clung to. “And you will discover, Lady Amelia, that soirees, balls, dinners, and the like are no longer something to dread but rather something to enjoy. With friends, acquaintances, and welcoming smiles, you will begin to feel a part of society in a way you have not before. You must ignore the whispers, set aside those who seek to mock you, for they are of no value. Instead, focus on those who see you as you truly are and who will not have a single word of gossip on their tongues.” Her smile broadened, and she sat back in her chair. “There are plenty of them, Lady Amelia, and I will be very glad indeed to introduce them to you.”
Amelia pulled out a lace handkerchief and wiped at her eyes, her heart filled with a desperate hope that flared light and heat all through her. “Thank you, Lady Smithton,” she said hoarsely, seeing how Mrs. Peters was also attempting to regain her composure. “You are kindness itself.”
Lady Smithton waved a hand dismissively. “Come now,” she said, a little more decisively. “We must begin to consider your next social occasion so that I might make it quite plain to the ton that you and I are now well acquainted.” Throwing a quick smile to Mrs. Peters, Lady Smithton spread out her hands. “What is it you are to attend next?”
Amelia allowed Mrs. Peters to explain, knowing she was the one who knew such things better than she did herself! Sitting back in her chair with her lace handkerchief screwed up into a ball in one hand, Amelia allowed herself to relax just a little, letting out a long breath and feeling a sense of happiness begin to climb into her heart. It washed over her, giving her a sense of warmth that enveloped her completely. She was no longer to be alone in her suffering. She would have acquaintances who understood her struggles and might even make a friend of Lady Smithton.
Finally, there was a hope that this season would not come to naught and that, instead, it might prove itself to be the happiest year of her life.
Chapter Four
Oliver sighed inwardly as he plastered a smile on his face and walked into Lord Burton’s drawing-room. There was to be a soiree this evening, with cards, music and good conversation, but Oliver was not at all inclined to be present. His head ached from a little too much brandy the previous evening and even having a few hours to rest earlier in the day had not brought him much relief.
But he had accepted the invitation and knew he could
not refuse to appear, especially when he had every intention of making his way to Whites later on. Lord Burton would consider it an affront if Oliver were to do such a thing and no doubt, there would be some consequences to deal with thereafter.
“Ah, Lord Montague!”
His smile still fixed firmly to his face, Oliver bowed in greeting, murmuring a word of thanks towards Lord and Lady Burton, who both thanked him in return for attending.
“There are many lovely young ladies here this evening, Lord Montague,” Lord Burton said, stepping away from his wife and speaking a little conspiratorially. “My wife has done so deliberately, choosing those who are less inclined towards making a particularly strong appearance at society events for one reason or another.” He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “My wife has a kind heart, and I could not refuse her this.”
“Of course not,” Oliver muttered, thinking this evening would be even duller than he had first anticipated. “That is kind indeed of Lady Burton to think of such…people.”
Lord Burton nodded, with something flaring in his eyes that Oliver did not quite understand. He watched with interest as Lord Burton glanced back at his wife before returning his attention to Oliver. Was it that the fellow had come to feel a fondness for his wife? That was most unexpected if it were the case, for Lord Burton had not wanted to marry. This time last season, he was doing all he could to remove himself from an engagement he did not want but which had been in place since he himself had been a young boy. Now, it seemed, there was something significantly different about the way he looked at his wife.
“My wife has a very considerate heart,” Lord Burton said, his smile softening his eyes all the more. “I have found her to be kindness itself, I confess.”
Oliver blinked, a little unsure as to what to say to this remark. He had never felt anything other than unbridled desire for the young ladies or widows he pursued, and therefore had no understanding of what Lord Burton was apparently feeling.
