“Good morning, Robert,” Amelia greeted, as she entered the dining room and went to the buffet table where she served herself breakfast from the morning’s offerings.
A footman served her tea as she sat at her place.
“How are your efforts for the royal visit going?” Robert asked. “Do you feel overwhelmed?”
“Not too badly. As you know, I have a very capable staff.”
“As do I,” Robert replied.
“All is on track and I expect a warm and felicitous welcome for Their Majesties when they arrive,” Amelia said as she began her breakfast.
“I am to visit Cambridge this morning. Is there anything you need that I can get for you?”
“Errands, or pleasure?” Amelia asked.
“Errands, of course.”
“Hmm. And would your journey include a visit to that writer lady?”
“Diana. Her name is Diana.”
“Di-an-a,” she enunciated clearly.
“It might. And what concern of yours is that, might I ask?”
“None. But I seem to remember that she is engaged, is that not so?”
“It is. But, as I have mentioned many times before, we have a professional relationship.”
Amelia ate her breakfast in silence for a time, and then said, “No, there is nothing I need from Cambridge.”
* * *
Robert promised himself he would do all his errands before stopping to see Diana, but somehow his horse headed toward the inn just down the street from the Browning residence.
After stabling the horse, he headed toward the house but decided to stop by the gallery to say hello to Mrs. Browning and to check on his orchid.
“Good morning,” he said as he pushed open the door and rang the little bell.
“Robert?” Diana said. “Good morning.”
“Oh, it is you. I was expecting your mother,” Robert said.
“She is ill in bed. Nasty cold, so I am minding the gallery.”
“No chance for a stroll in our meadow?” he asked, but suspecting her response.
“I am afraid not. It is summer. We have a lot of tourists this time of year and the gallery must be watched all day.”
Robert went over and stuck his finger into the wood chips holding the orchid’s roots to check for moisture.
“And how is your writing going?” he asked as he turned back to her.
“Miserably. With mother ill, I am either running up and down the stairs to tend to her, or I am dealing with visitors to the gallery. Most frustrating.”
Just then the gallery doorbell jangled and they turned to see who had entered. It was the Goodwin sisters.
“Oh, hello—Kitty, Abigale. What a nice surprise. If you are looking for Mother she is laid up with a summer cold.”
“Yes, we know. Your father told us,” Kitty replied as she held her reticule close to her chest, seeing the stranger in the gallery.
“Are you with a customer?” Abigale asked.
“No, this is my friend Robert Donnelly.”
“Good morning,” the sisters greeted.
“Ladies.”
“Is there something I can do for you?” Diana asked.
“No, but there is something we can do for you,” Kitty said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, yes?”
“We are here to help you. Your father told us you have no time for your writing and we thought we might be able to watch the gallery for you so you can write. Would you like that?”
Diana appeared to tear up. “Oh, my… That would be so lovely. You have no idea. Then you have forgiven me for my terrible treatment of you?”
“Of course we have, my dear. And if you will just show us what we must do, we will be happy to help however we can.”
“And besides what else do we have to do at home, except feed the cat, water our aspidistra, and do our needlework?” Abigale added.
“Perhaps I should leave you now,” Robert offered. “I am sure you are anxious to get back to your writing.”
“Wait, one minute, please,” Diana pleaded.
Diana briefly instructed the sisters on what needed to be done to greet the visitors and asked them to come and fetch her if there was a sale. The sisters sat in chairs, pulled out their needlework, and were ready to take care of business.
“Come,” Diana asked Robert and they went outside.
“It was lovely to see you again,” Robert said. “I just wanted to say hello and check in with you about the fete.”
“I am free for that stroll through the meadow now, if you still have time,” Diana suggested shyly.
“But what if there is a sale? The sisters will not be able to find you.”
“We do not have sales all that often. We have many more browsers than buyers. I can take a few moments for a quick visit.”
“I should like that.”
“Let me first check on my mother and I shall be right back.”
“I will wait.”
Diana disappeared and Robert realized how good he felt just being in her presence.
Soon she returned, a shawl thrown around her shoulders.
“I am quite ready now,” she said, taking his arm as they headed down the street toward the stile.
“I am excited about the fete,” Diana said. “How are the preparations going for the event?”
“All will be well. But with the addition of Her Majesty’s visit, it is putting quite a strain on our otherwise tranquil household.”
“It is quite an honor, is it not, to have Her Majesty in attendance?”
“It is—but not unprecedented. We have hosted Their Majesties several times now. She seems to be particularly delighted with Balfour, and we are happy to have her.”
“And your writing? I suspect with all the activity around the royal visit you are not getting much writing done?”
Robert laughed. “Absolutely none. But it is not just the visit—it is my writer’s block as well. But the visit, at least, gives me a grand cover for not writing. But I do have news for you.”
“Yes?”
“The galley proofs are ready and I am expecting them by post tomorrow. And I instructed Sir Cecil to send one directly to you as well, so you shall finally have the opportunity to see what a doltish author I am.”
“I doubt that Robert, or Sir Cecil would never have published you,” she said with a laugh.
“And he sent me a list of the book presentations where you will be expected to attend as the author. Have you received your copy of that yet? I received mine earlier this morning.”
“Not yet. Our first post comes late morning and I have not been at the house.”
Then when you get it, and have reviewed the dates, we can discuss if there are any problems for you where we need to make adjustments.”
“I shall do so.”
They were now halfway across the meadow as they fell into a moment of silence. Robert snuck a glance at Diana. And he had to ask himself, why did he keep coming to see her? Each time he was with her, she enflamed his passions. But he was a gentleman and knew that she was engaged. The last thing he wanted was to intrude upon her settled life and upset her, but as he had realized earlier that morning, he could not help himself. He longed—he yearned to be near her. He wanted to reach out and take her by both hands and pull her to him and kiss her as she was meant to be kissed.
But he turned away from her. These kinds of thoughts were dangerous and pointless. Perhaps it was best if they returned to the house. He must let her go. He must free himself from her charms. He must return to Balfour and prepare for the Queen’s visit.
He pulled out his pocket watch and consulted it—not for the time but as an excuse to end their walk.
“I really must be getting on. Shall we return now?”
“If you like,” she said looking up at him with what he interpreted to be a look of longing.
He refused to take her arm on the way back to the cottage. And as they passed the Sinclair’s house he gav
e it no glance, not wanting to be tempted into a visit to prolong his time with Diana.
“It has been a charming stroll, Miss Diana,” he said as he led her to the cottage gate.
“Miss Diana? So formal. I thought we were past that, Robert.”
Robert’s heart contracted in longing, but he said, “We will soon be busy promoting the book and I just thought we ought to keep our interactions at a professional level.”
“Ah… I see,” Diana said. “Very well, then. I expect we will next meet at the fete.”
“And the carriage will collect your family promptly at ten o’clock. There is to be a reception with Her Majesty prior to the fete which starts at noon.”
“Then I must practice up for the egg and spoon race if I am to be a serious contender,” she said teasingly.
“I think Her Majesty will expect your family to be in attendance to her during the afternoon.”
“Then perhaps I might beg of Her Majesty a brief moment to cheer the twins on in any event they may choose to enter.”
“Good day, Miss Diana. And all the best wishes for your mother’s speedy recovery.”
“Thank you, Milord.”
Robert was stung by her use of Milord, but he deserved it. He was behaving outrageously cool to her, but he had no choice. It was either that or make a complete fool of himself—behaving badly toward her by revealing his deep passion.
He turned his back to her and headed toward the stable and the completion of his errands.
* * *
Amelia found a moment to sneak away while Robert was in Cambridge. She rode over to Luddy’s estate and called upon him. But she was informed that he was engaged with a number of engineers going over plans for the canal project.
“Might I see him briefly,” she asked Danton who seemed to disapprove of her unannounced visit.
“I shall see if he can tear himself away from his meeting,” Danton said acidly.
He left her waiting at the front door, not even inviting her into the entry hall.
Presently Luddy appeared. “Amelia, and to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“It is hardly an honor when your domestic keeps me waiting on your doorstep,” she said, pushing her way past him into the house.
“This is not a good time, Amelia,” he said, taking her by the arm and restraining her from entering further into the house.
She pulled her arm away from his grasp.
“Do not be a fool, Luddy. I have come with what might prove to be important information for you.”
“And what is that?”
“I happened to see a letter from Robert’s publisher this morning with a list of the events where his book is to be publicized. I thought it might be useful information. Of course, I have no idea how you might use that information, but nonetheless…”
“You would do that for me?” he asked, gently stroking her hand.
“Two words… seven and a half percent and marriage.
“That was more than two words.”
Amelia waggled her head. “Then take me to court.”
“And you brought this information with you?”
“What? Do you take me for a fool? I want a formal proposal of marriage in writing, and I want to know exactly what your plans are for Robert. I assume you have… how shall I say this?… methods to persuade him to agree to the canal? But I want in no way to be implicated in any of your schemes. After all, he is my baby brother and I am very protective of him.”
“And that is all?” Luddy asked amused.
“And I want my seven and a half percent in a letter of credit, payable to me, that can be cashed at any UK bank. Am quite I clear?”
Luddy reached over and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “You are so adorable. How you amuse me.”
Amelia was not to be distracted by his sweet talk. “And when I have the promise of marriage I shall supply you with the list of events. You know where to reach me,” she said and then swept out of the house.
Chapter 20
Finally! Diana had a whole morning to herself for writing. Even though the Goodwin sisters had helped mind the gallery, they were infrequent attendants and Diana found herself sometimes minding the gallery, constantly running up and down the stairs tending to her mother, or coordinating with her father over the reception at the college.
Her mother had struggled with the cold for a full week, but now she was back in the gallery, and while she was still weak and unable to paint, she was able to run the gallery.
Diana worked hard all morning and finished the story in one sitting. It was now after lunch and her mother was settled in the gallery. Her father was in a tutorial at the college so Diana decided it was time to read the rest of her story to the twins.
Miriam opened the door.
“Put the kettle on. It is time for me to finish reading the Christmas story.”
“Geoffrey,” Miriam shouted. “It is time to hear the rest of Diana’s story.”
Geoffrey appeared from the kitchen with an apron on. His face, hands, hair, and shirt front were covered in flour.
“I am learning to bake,” he said. “I’ve decided to apprentice as a baker.”
“Then why are you not apprenticing? Why are you here?” Diana asked, ever amused by her friends.
“Oh, I could never go to a lesson unprepared. I am making bread. Want to see?”
“Of course.”
Geoffrey led Diana and his sister into the kitchen. It looked as though it had recently snowed inside. There was more flour on the kitchen surfaces than there was in the rather strange looking lump that Geoffrey proceeded to knead on the table.
“It is quite pretty, do you not think?” he asked, rather hoping she would agree.
“Geoffrey, I have made many loaves of bread and none of them ever turned out looking like that. It is as hard as a rock.”
“Well, the dough was like soup so I kept adding flour. Too much, do you think?”
“Why not take a break. Make us some tea and I will finish reading you the Christmas story.”
Geoffrey stared at his doughy mass and answered, “That sounds like a very good idea. Sis, put the kettle on.”
Once tea was served and all were settled in, Diana began reading the remainder of the story from where she left off last time.
Tommy returned to the butcher shop.
“Sir, I am ready for my next task,” he said bravely, still smarting from the fall.
The shop was filled with customers doing the last of their Christmas dinner shopping.
Customers were shouting orders and the butcher was working as fast as he could. He turned to Tommy and asked. “Can you lend me a hand here? I’ve only got two hands and two dozen customers.”
“I can, sir.”
Tommy went right to work, asking what each person wanted. And even though he was too short to be seen above the counter, the lady customers were delighted with his willingness to help and his eager smile.
Tommy wrapped each chop, chicken, or roast quickly after the butcher weighed it and collected the money from the customer.
They stayed open much later than the usual closing time, and by then, there was hardly any meat left to sell—a few pieces of liver, some chicken feet, and a sheep’s head that was only suited for making soup stock.
As the last customer left and the butcher locked the front door, Tommy collapsed onto the floor behind the meat counter. If he had two more minutes he would have fallen asleep.
The butcher came over and looked down at Tommy. “You done a good job today, lad. And I am sorry about your fall.”
Tommy looked up and gave a weak smile. “Thank you, sir.”
The butcher went into the back of the shop and came out with a large package wrapped in butcher paper.
“Here you go. This be your wages for the week. And son, if you are so inclined, I would like to offer you a permanent job. You did fine work today.”
“How much you payin’?” Tommy asked.
The butcher laughed. “Five bob a week.”
Diaries of a Heartbroken Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 75
