by Ella Edon
Amy put her cup and saucer to one side. It wasn’t anything new she was thinking about. Her mother had to know that by now. She placed her hands in her lap and looked at the coverlet on the bed.
“Father and Beatrice are forcing me to choose someone out of the men they’ve picked out for me to be my husband. They wanted me to be married as soon as possible.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad. I thought you wanted to get out of the house.”
“I want to leave badly, but you haven’t seen the choices they’ve made.” Amy huffed. “It’s like they’re trying to marry me to a replica of Father.”
Anna raised her eyebrows.
“Knowing your father, I wouldn’t be surprised. His way or no way. Anyone who can stand up to him would be considered dangerous, so they wouldn’t be a good choice. He wants someone he can mold.”
Amy agreed. Hartley didn’t like it when someone squared up to him, challenged him on anything. He wanted to be in the right at all times. He was in charge. Amy hated that about him.
“I wish I wasn’t living with them, Mother,” Amy lamented. “It’s horrible. Every chance possible, they make it known to me that they don’t want me around, especially Beatrice. She just wants Father to herself. I don’t mind that part, but Father listens to her.”
Hartley hadn’t been a great father before, but Beatrice’s presence made him worse. It was like living with a tyrant.
Anna beckoned Amy over. Amy shifted to sit on the bed, taking her mother’s hand.
“I know, darling,” Anna kissed Amy’s hand. “But you know that you couldn’t live with me. I had to give up more than just my marriage and my title. It pained me to do that and leave you behind, but there was nothing I could do.”
Amy understood that. Had Anna stayed any longer, Hartley would have killed her. He got extremely volatile, and Anna took the brunt of it. She had been incredibly lucky to be one of the few women in the last hundred years to be granted a divorce. But that was as far as it had gone. Amy had cried herself to sleep several times as a young girl. It wasn’t fair that she had been left behind. Hartley and his new wife reminded her of that every day.
“I still wish you had taken me with you,” said Amy. “I mean, can’t I live with you now? You’re married now, and James could easily find a decent husband for me. I trust his judgment.”
“Just because he’s a good doctor doesn’t mean everything else in his life is trustworthy.” Anna giggled. “I wouldn’t trust him to choose a potential match for you.”
“I would. More than my father.”
“But James is your stepfather. Unless your father dies, he can’t find you anyone.”
Amy hated being the property of her father. He loved to make it known that he was in charge, and she had no choice. She huffed.
“Sometimes, I wish Father would drop down dead.”
“Oh, Amy,” Anna stroked her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t be like that. You and your father may not get along, but you don’t wish death on him.”
“What about Beatrice?”
Anna paused, biting her lip. Amy could see she was trying to hide a smile.
“I won’t be so unchristian as to say anything unsavory about my successor.”
“I would,” Amy retorted.
“Not in my earshot.” Anna sat up. “Oh, speaking of frustrating men, have you figured out who is writing those letters to you?”
At the mention of the letters, Amy felt a shiver up her spine. Over the last year, she had been receiving unsigned letters on a regular basis. At first, they had been sweet, like they were from a secret admirer. But then there was the occasional letter that would have Amy looking over her shoulder for days afterward. Whoever was writing to her had to be unbalanced to go from one extreme of emotion to another so quickly.
It had been a year now, and Amy was no closer to knowing who was writing to her. It was frustrating. In the beginning, Amy had shown her father the letters, but Hartley dismissed them and said they were meaningless, and that Amy wasn’t to get herself worked up over something silly.
Amy hadn’t gone to her father about the letters after that. And Beatrice had no idea about it unless her husband had said something to her. She certainly wouldn’t have been of any use.
“Amy?”
Amy realized she had been wandering off in her own thoughts again. She sighed and shook her head.
“Not yet. I received another letter this morning. Mr. Carlton managed to swipe it before Father saw it and left it on my breakfast tray.”
It wasn’t exactly what Amy wanted to read with her breakfast, but Amy was glad Hartley hadn’t seen it.
“And what was in it?” Anna asked.
“Sweet nothings today, but with the pattern I’ve seen happening, I have a feeling that the next one will be rather threatening.”
Anna frowned.
“You still don’t know who it is?”
“I’m afraid not. I don’t know anyone who would write to me in that way. If I’m honest, I didn’t think anyone would want to write to me at all.”
“Oh, nonsense, Amy. You’re a beautiful girl. Everyone will have noticed that by now.”
Amy felt her face getting warm. Her mother liked to compliment her far too much. It was embarrassing. Anna had far too much faith in her only child, far too much belief. Amy wished she wasn’t put on such a pedestal.
Of course, it was better than being berated and beaten by her father, but Amy just wanted to blend into the background and not be known. It was easier just to be on her own.
“You flatter me too much, Mother,” she protested.
“It’s the truth.” Anna squeezed Amy’s fingers. “I know you’re my daughter, so I will be biased in my opinions, but you are a beautiful girl both inside and out. Men are going to want a beautiful girl on their arm as their wife.”
Amy made a face.
“I don’t want to be seen as a prize somebody won. And from the way this mystery person is writing, he sees me as a prize he wants, but I’m not submitting to him.”
“It’s a little difficult to submit when you don’t know who it is.” Anna brightened. “I know, why don’t you talk to the Earl of Derby?”
“Derby?” Amy started, almost falling off the bed. “Why would I want to talk to him?”
“I thought maybe he could help you out. He has a lot of contacts, so there’s a chance he might be able to find out who’s sending these letters.”
Anna did have a point. Derby was known to have his fingers in a lot of things. He knew people, and he knew a lot about them. His reach was quite far. Amy knew that much. If anyone could find out who was sending these anonymous letters, it would be him.
But Amy was too shy about going back to see him. How could she after she had practically run out on him? Derby would be offended that she had left in the way she had seeing as she hadn’t exactly done it in a refined way. She had committed a lot of faux pas just by leaving abruptly. Would he even want to entertain her, let alone hear what she had to say? Amy wasn’t sure anymore.
“What’s the matter, Amy?” Anna frowned. “You’re still acquainted with the Earl, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes,” Amy hesitated, “sort of.”
“What does that mean?”
“I…” Amy bit her lip, pulling her hand away from her mother’s and wringing her hands together in her lap. “I kind of ran away from him last night. He went to get me some food, and I started panicking again, so I left. Run, would be a better word.”
“Oh, Amy.” Anna laughed. “Derby’s known you for years. He isn’t going to be insulted by your actions.”
Amy hoped not, but that fear was still there. Then again, hadn’t Derby said to her that she could come to him and talk if she needed his help? He was there if Amy needed some advice. Why shouldn’t she square her shoulders and go to him? The Earl wasn’t one to break his promises, even if he had been abruptly deserted.
“Do you think he’ll help me?”
�
��I’m sure he will.” Anna smiled. “You know, Derby’s quite fond of you.”
“Me?” Amy squeaked. “How do you know that?”
“I’m a mother. I always know.”
Derby was fond of her? Amy could feel her face getting even warmer. And that warmth was spreading across her body, settling firmly in her belly. It was getting uncomfortable to sit down. Amy shifted, but the throbbing that had started between her legs wouldn’t go. She huffed and glared at her mother.
“I think you were easier to talk to when you were sleeping,” she grumbled.
All she got was a smile in return.
* * *
Derby was into the flow of things now. It took a while for him to get into doing the accounts, but now he was flying through it. Everything had come together, and he didn’t want to be interrupted. He had specifically told his servants not to bother him, so this could be completed. Derby didn’t like things being left undone.
But then someone was knocking at the door. Derby growled and put his pen aside before it blotted the book.
“Yes!”
The door opened, and his butler came in, giving him a bow with his usual sober expression.
“My lord.”
“What do you want, Bryan? I told everyone that I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
“My apologies, Lord Derby, but Miss Hartley and Mrs. Day are here. They wanted to speak with you, but they don’t have an appointment.”
That had Derby’s attention. His pulse quickened. Amy was here? He certainly hadn’t been expecting her, but he wasn’t about to turn her away. Derby shot to his feet before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat and adjusted his waistcoat, reaching for his coat.
“Put them in the morning room. I’ll come and speak to them.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Bryan left as Derby shrugged into his coat. He realized his hands were trembling, and his trousers were beginning to get a little tighter than before. Just the mere mention of Amy Hartley had his mind wandering to places where it shouldn’t go.
He was going to get himself into trouble if he didn’t keep himself under control. A gentleman never did anything untoward. But there were times when Derby wished he wasn’t such a gentleman. Just the mere mention of Amy had that threatening to go out the window.
It was difficult feeling attraction towards a woman where he wasn’t allowed to express himself openly, especially with the fear that she might reject him. Derby didn’t want to go down that route. He almost ran down the hall, slowing as he reached the morning room. He shouldn’t look so excited to see his guests. Straightening his coat, Derby took a deep breath and entered the room. His eyes went straight to Amy, who was pacing around by the window. She was wringing her hands, and she looked nervous. Derby couldn’t help but stare at her. Amy looked particularly lovely today, clothed in a simple, pale yellow dress, one that fitted well to her curves. It was modest, perfect for current Society, but Derby’s eyes were drawn over Amy’s body, pausing at her breasts. She was breathing quickly, her face flushed, causing her chest to push against the fabric, binding her chest.
Derby resisted the urge to lick his lips as he watched the sight. They looked firm and yet soft. He wished he could touch her, just to see if they were as he was imagining. Then he shook himself. Now was not the time to be undressing the young woman in his mind. Not with her mother sitting on the couch by the fire, looking between them with an amused smile. She had to suspect something.
Derby cleared his throat, bowing at Amy.
“Miss Hartley.”
Amy gasped and spun around. Then her face reddened, and she lowered her head, dropping into a quick curtsy.
“My Lord Derby.”
She sounded very breathless. Derby liked hearing how she sounded, but he forced himself to turn away and bow at Anna Day with a smile.
“Mrs. Day.”
“Lord Derby.” Anna nodded back. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t get up. I’m still not feeling particularly well.”
“Of course not.” Derby then noticed how pale Anna was. “Do you need anything, Mrs. Day?”
“I’m all right for now, thank you, my lord.” Anna gestured at Amy. “It’s my daughter who needs help, not me.”
“I beg to differ.”
Derby headed towards the side table. On it were several glasses and a jug of fresh water. He poured out one glass and brought it over to Anna. Kneeling before her, he slid the glass into her hand.
“Drink this,” he insisted. “You must keep your strength.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Anna gave him a warm smile as she raised the glass to her lips. Her hand was trembling. Derby noted the paleness of her face and the greenish tinge around her mouth. It certainly wasn’t makeup. Whatever was taking hold of the woman was enough to make her sway, but it wasn’t quite knocking her down. He squeezed her hand and stood.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? I didn’t realize you would be coming here, or I would have prepared something for you.”
“Don’t mind me. I’m just the chaperone.” Anna nodded at her daughter. “It is Amy who has something she needs to discuss with you. It was more of an impulse thing to do.”
“Oh?”
Derby turned to Amy. She was still wringing her hands, and she looked like she was about to rush out the door again. Derby approached her, indicating for her to sit in a chair by the window. Amy hesitated, and then she sat down, smoothing down her skirts. The sunlight came through the window and fell on her, turning her brown hair into burnished gold. Derby had to stop himself from openly staring, settling into the chair across from her.
“Now, how can I help, Miss Hartley?”
“I…” Amy bit her lip, and she looked down at her hands. Then she looked up and took a deep breath. “First, I want to ask for forgiveness about the way I ran from the wedding last night. It was unbecoming on me. I should have been a bit more refined.”
Derby smiled.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You did something I had been wishing to do all night.” He sat forward, his smile fading. “What’s wrong? And how do you think I could help?”
“I’ve...I’ve got a problem.” Amy glanced at Anna before turning back to Derby. “Mother said you were the person who could help me with your extensive contacts.”
“Help with what?”
Amy reached over to a nearby table, where there was a pile of letters tied together with a blue ribbon. She held them like they were about to blow up in her hands.
“These.” She passed them across to Derby, pulling her hands back quickly when Derby took them. “I’ve been receiving letters from one particular person. They’re anonymous, and I don’t know what to make of them. I have no idea if they want to marry me or wish me harm.”
Anonymous letters? Derby wondered if this was the reason why Amy was distracted the night before. He sat back and looked at the top letter. It was written in black ink, sloping, but legible writing. All it had was Amy’s name and address, nothing more.
“May I look at them?” he asked.
Amy nodded. She looked out the window, and Derby’s eyes were snared by the beautiful slope and curve of her neck. There was so much poise in the shy girl, and she had no idea.
Derby coughed and turned back to the letters. Now was not the time to stare at the woman. He undid the ribbon and picked the top letter up. Unfolding it, he scanned through it. It seemed like a normal love letter. A little flowery, but nothing untoward. But then Derby opened another letter further down the pile, and he was shocked at the graphic, angry language.
“I see why this would be concerning. One full of sweet, loving phrases, and another threatening your life.” He looked up at Amy. “Do you believe they’re the same person?”
“It would appear so. The letters are written in the same hand, but I have no idea who is writing them.” Amy bit her lip. “I’m scared, my lord, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
&
nbsp; “And you want me to see what I can find out.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you…” Amy went on hurriedly. “But you always said if I needed help from you that I was to let you know. And you said the same thing last night.”
“I remember, and I’m not about to turn my back on my promise to you.” Derby put the letters aside. It was beginning to dawn on him why Amy had been on edge. “You thought one of the guests was your anonymous letter writer.”
“Pretty much.”
She looked forlorn. Scared. Derby wished he could reach over and comfort her. Do something to calm her. But he kept his hands to himself. If he touched her, Derby was sure he wouldn’t let go. And with Anna Day sitting close by still watching them, that would certainly cause a scandal.
