Love Birds: The Complete Collection

by Ruth J. Hartman

  “Mother, really… Can’t you keep your opinions to yourself? At least when we’re entertaining a guest.”

  “Guest?” The word emerged as a screech. I sound like an old crow. She slapped her hand over her mouth.

  Conrad reached over and patted Amelia’s hand.

  Miriam’s eyes bulged. “Why are you touching her?”

  He drew his hand back as if burned. Splotches of red colored his otherwise pale cheeks.

  “Amelia, you are not a guest. You’re an intruder. An unwelcome, interfering—”

  “Mother!” Conrad stood abruptly but reclaimed his seat when Amelia tugged on his sleeve.

  “Lady Lofton, I think there’s something you may not realize.”

  “And what might that be?”

  Amelia glanced at Conrad and back to Miriam. “You see, very soon I am to be Conrad’s wife. So frankly, whatever decisions are to be made, whatever conversations about how things have come to be between us, don’t involve you.”

  “Oh!” Miriam sucked in a huge gulp of air. And choked.

  Conrad sprang from the settee and rushed to her aid. He fanned her face with his hand. “Can you breathe?”

  I can breathe just fine. That’s not for you to know, though. Miriam blinked, coughed again for good measure and nodded. “Yes, angel, I’m fine.”

  “Angel?” Conrad pulled back as if slapped. “Did you just refer to me as—?”

  Miriam patted his cheek. “Now, now, don’t be shy in front of her. Or are you afraid it might make your betrothed jealous of how close you and I are?”

  Amelia quirked an eyebrow. “That’s not at all what I was led to believe about you, Lady Lofton. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  “Is that so?” No use pretending to gasp for air when she needed her voice to be strong and clear to say what she needed to. “What gives you the right to speak to me thus?”

  “Nothing gives me the right. I’ve taken it upon myself to stand up for my future husband.”

  Conrad widened his eyes. “You have?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Amelia.”

  “You’re welcome, Conrad.”

  Miriam waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Oh pish. Enough of this. We’re getting away from the real problem here.”

  “And what might that be, Lady Lofton?”

  “That you’re a… a…”

  Amelia lowered her eyebrows. “Go on. Say what you’re obviously dying to.”

  “A trollop.”

  “Mother. That’s enough. Apologize this instant.”

  “I will not.”

  “Then our visit has concluded. Amelia, are you ready to depart?”

  “Whenever you wish.”

  Chapter Ten

  Conrad alighted from his carriage and gave instructions to the driver to wait. Hopefully, his visit to the surgeon-dentist wouldn’t take long. Shivers ran through him as he neared the door. At least he’d managed to escape without his mother coming along today. He’d been feeling so much better. Why did a new problem in his mouth have to arise?

  He’d woken that morning with a throb in his jaw. Not as wicked as before he’d had his tooth removed, but it was in the same spot. Could the surgeon-dentist have left a piece of it in there? Cold sweat broke out beneath his shirt. Not that I would know, since I fainted like a helpless female before the man even started the procedure.

  When he pressed on the outer door, he steeled himself for the nauseating smell that would meet him inside. He stepped over the threshold and pressed his handkerchief over his nose and mouth. How silly. Obviously, I can’t do that when my mouth is the very place Mr. Fletcher will need to look.

  “Oh, good day.”

  Conrad looked up to see the same young woman as before who had assisted the surgeon-dentist. Was her name Cecilia?

  “Lord Lofton? Is something amiss?” Her pale blue eyes were arresting, surrounded as they were by even paler skin and blonde hair. Quite a lovely girl.

  “Yes… that is to say, I hope there isn’t something amiss, but…”

  “Are you in pain?” She stepped forward, concern evident on her face.

  “Some, yes. Although, nothing like it was before.”

  Cecilia motioned him to follow. “Mr. Fletcher isn’t busy at the moment. Why don’t we have him take a look?”

  Conrad took a step back. “Now?”

  “Why not? Isn’t that why you’ve come?”

  “I don’t wish to… I’d rather not…”

  With a smile, she stepped toward him. “Come now. We won’t know what’s happened until he takes a look.”

  “I suppose.” He willed his feet to follow her into the back. And there he was, Mr. Fletcher.

  The big man turned. “Good day, Lord Lofton.” He wore a wide smile. And that horrid bloodstained apron. Didn’t the man ever change into a clean one?

  “Good day, Mr. Fletcher.”

  “Since I’m assuming this isn’t a social call…”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Then I’m guessing you’re having problems.”

  “I’m afraid… yes.”

  “Have a seat.” He motioned to the same chair Conrad had occupied not that long ago.

  Please, don’t let me have the same reaction. Please…

  A small, warm hand touched his shoulder. “It will be fine. I promise.” Cecilia smiled.

  He wanted to believe her. But after his last visit there…

  “Open wide.” Mr. Fletcher stood in front of him. Waiting.

  Mouth gone suddenly dry, Conrad swallowed and complied.

  “Ah, I see the problem.”

  “You do?”

  Mr. Fletcher laughed. “Kindly stay open, my lord. It’s much easier to see what I’m doing that way.”

  “I beg your pardon.” His face heated as he opened wide again. Don’t black out… don’t black out…

  “Yes, it’s just as I thought. Cecilia, hand me those forceps, will you?”

  Conrad sucked in a mouthful of air. No, not again!

  This time, it was Mr. Fletcher who patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s not like it was before. Just a tiny sliver of bone that came up after we took the tooth.”

  “Bone?” Was his jaw falling apart?

  “Don’t be alarmed. It’s quite common.”

  Conrad glanced at Cecilia. She nodded. Conrad opened his mouth again. He clenched his hands into fists so hard that his fingernails dug into his palms even through the fabric of his gloves. Hurry… hurry! He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “There now. All done.”

  Done? He opened his eyes cautiously, afraid of what he might see. Those instruments the surgeon-dentist used were positively ghastly. However, instead of the giant tool used previously to remove his sore tooth, Mr. Fletcher held a miniscule piece of hard, white material with very thin forceps. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “That small bit of nothing caused my gums to hurt and my jaw to ache?”

  Mr. Fletcher laughed. “That’s right. Doesn’t look like much, does it?”

  Conrad squinted at it. “No, it really doesn’t at that.” Relief poured over him. “I was afraid when it hurt again that it was…”

  “No, no. Just a tiny bone splinter. Nothing to be concerned about. Although you did right by coming in. It might have come out on its own, but if not, you could have swallowed it.”

  “Good heavens.” The thought of a piece of bone floating around in his body was nearly as nauseating as the stench of Mr. Fletcher’s building.

  “Lord Lofton?” Cecilia asked, “Are you feeling well enough to stand?”

  That’s it? “I believe so.” Just to be sure, though, he used caution when rising from the chair. Once upright he waited another few seconds. He didn’t feel faint. His vision didn’t darken. In fact nothing bad happened at all. How fortunate. He gratefully reached into his pocket to retrieve money to pay Mr. Fletcher. Thanks to Oliver, he had some cash at the ready. When he’d p
aid before, it was at the expense of not paying his tailor. Again.

  The man waved it away.

  Conrad frowned. “But I owe you for your services.”

  “This little procedure is included with the first.”

  “I see. Thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome, my lord.”

  Conrad tipped his hat and turned to leave.

  “If I may, Lord Lofton…”

  Conrad looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  “When you were in the other day… Your mother accompanied you.”

  “Yes, that’s correct.” Although I wish she hadn’t.

  “She seemed somewhat familiar to me. I’d wondered if perhaps we’d met in the past.”

  Highly doubtful. Conrad couldn’t imagine in what capacity his mother would have lowered herself to even speak to someone like the surgeon-dentist unless she had to. “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

  Mr. Fletcher rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s the strangest feeling I have. That I should know her.”

  “Her Christian name is Miriam, if that helps.”

  Face gone pale, Mr. Fletcher’s mouth gaped open.

  Cecilia grabbed his arm. “Papa, are you ill?”

  Papa? Conrad reached out as well and grasped Mr. Fletcher’s arm. It took all of his strength to help lower the large man into the chair that Conrad had just vacated.

  “I’m… fine. Just a bit of a shock is all.”

  “Shock? How so?” Did this man really know Mother?

  “I knew she looked familiar. She’s changed in appearance somewhat but that’s to be expected. It has been a very long time, after all.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “I knew Miriam, your mother, quite a long time ago. We were… At least I thought we were…” Moisture formed in his eyes. “And then one day, she was gone. I never saw her again.”

  What in blazes was the man going on about?

  Some color had returned to Mr. Fletcher’s face. “I looked for her for a while. Asked around about her whereabouts. But no one seemed to know where she’d gone.”

  That didn’t sound like his mother. Not at all. “I’m not sure what to say, Mr. Fletcher.” Surely the man had his mother confused with another woman of the same first name.

  “Oh…” He waved his hand. “Don’t concern yourself with me, Lord Lofton. Just an old man babbling about his past.” He glanced at Cecilia. “I’m fine now. Truly.”

  She bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, daughter. Quite sure.” He stood on his own and did seem steady enough.

  More than I did at my first appointment, I’m sure.

  Mr. Fletcher tilted his head and looked at Conrad for a few moments. He shook his head briefly and then gave a little smile. “Well, good day to you, Lord Lofton.”

  What had just occurred? “And you as well.” He headed to the room nearest the front entrance. Perhaps his fear of having to revisit the frightening place again caused his thoughts to muddle. Surely, he hadn’t perceived things as they had appeared to be. He couldn’t for the life of him imagine what Mr. Fletcher had been speaking of about Mother.

  “Lord Lofton?” Cecilia hurried from the back room.

  “Yes?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  Conrad smiled. “Yes. I’m fine. But thank you for asking.”

  She didn’t return his smile.

  “Is there something else?”

  “It’s just… When I observed you talking to my father just now, the two of you… The similarities in your actions, the cadence of your voices as you spoke, gave me pause. It was almost as if…”

  “As if?”

  “As if you could be related.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Amelia smiled when she heard Lucy’s voice. How strange to think that only a few days before, they’d hardly shared a civil word. That the sight and sound of her had put Amelia’s teeth on edge. But now, she was delighted when Lucy was near. It was so nice to have a friend with whom to discuss anything and nothing.

  Lucy reached the bench where Amelia sat, sketching a duck. “Good day, Amelia.”

  “Good day.”

  “How is your drawing coming along?”

  “It’s still poor, but at least you’ll be able to tell the wing from the bill. At least I hope so.”

  Lucy sat down and eyed the drawing. A smile curved her lips. “Ah, yes. You’re doing so much better.”

  “Am I?”

  “That’s a very good likeness of that duck by the pond.”

  Pleased to no end, Amelia laughed. “So you can tell what I’ve drawn.”

  “Yes.”

  Amelia sketched in a few more lines around the duck’s bill before she realized Lucy had become quiet. She lifted her gaze. “Is something amiss?”

  “No. I was just wondering how things are going for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Last we spoke you had asked several questions about Lord Lofton.”

  Amelia’s face heated. “Oh. Yes.”

  Lucy nudged Amelia’s hand. “So? Has something occurred… between you two?”

  “I suppose you could say that.” Amelia lowered her gaze.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense, Amelia.”

  “I… I’m…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m betrothed.” Her gaze rose to meet her friend’s.

  Lucy’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “It’s true.”

  “But how? When?” She grabbed Amelia’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Tell me everything.”

  With a giggle, Amelia squeezed back. “It all happened so quickly.”

  “I’d say. Very quickly. Something must have happened. Something extraordinary.”

  If you call blackmail extraordinary… “I… After you and I talked, I invited him to my home.”

  “You did? Was it a dinner party, then?”

  “Of sorts.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I sent him a note inviting him to a small gathering.”

  “Go on.”

  “He accepted and arrived right on time.”

  Lucy tapped her finger on her knee. “Surely there is more to the story than that.”

  “I neglected to mention in the invitation that the gathering was for a party of… two.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I’m afraid I did.” Heat filled her face and spread down her neck.

  “Amelia. How brave of you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Absolutely. I’m not sure I would have had the nerve to do the same with Oliver.”

  “It didn’t feel brave at the time. I was terrified. Afraid he wouldn’t accept the invitation, but also afraid that he would.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes, I was so nervous. And then when he arrived, I wasn’t sure I could go through with…”

  Lucy leaned close and lowered her voice. “Amelia… did you… were you trying to seduce him?”

  She tried to respond but no words came. Instead she nodded. How terrible it sounded when spoken out loud by Lucy.

  “Don’t be ashamed, Amelia.”

  “Oh but I am.”

  “You shouldn’t be, though.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  Lucy’s lips curved in a smile. “I’m a firm believer that if you love someone, sometimes it’s necessary to go to extreme means to be with that person.”

  “Is that what happened with you?”

  “My father had forbidden me to see Oliver anymore. He was under the impression that Oliver was a groundskeeper here at the Sanctuary. Which is what he led all of us to believe.”

  “He did? Why?”

  “Oliver wanted to make sure that I loved him for him and not for his wealth. So he let everyone believe that his work at the Sanctuary wasn’t volunteer but was his livelihood.”

  “And that’s how he found out your true feelings.”


  “Yes. And that’s what I meant by going to extreme measures. I’d already decided that if Oliver asked me to run off to Gretna Green and get married, I would. Even though I thought we’d be dirt poor. Sometimes taking a risk is the only way to satisfy your heart.”

  “Now I see. And thank you. I don’t feel quite so…”

  “What?”

  “Wanton.” She covered her mouth with her hand.

  Lucy did the same, but her laugh escaped around her fingers. Soon, Amelia laughed along with her.

  “You must have done it correctly, Amelia, if you’re already betrothed.”

  “Yes. I suppose.” She longed to tell Lucy about what she’d done. Not that she was proud of it, but to unburden herself. In order to do that, however, she’d have to divulge Conrad’s secret and she wouldn’t do that. Not without his permission, anyway. Time to get the focus off her. “Tell me Lucy, is there anything new in your life?”

  Amelia had meant it as a diversion, thinking perhaps they’d discuss their drawings or something else. Anything. It didn’t matter as long as the subject was changed.

  But Lucy’s eyes misted.

  “Oh dear… What have I said? Lucy, are you all right?”

  “I couldn’t be better.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  Lucy dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “Don’t many women cry when they are going to be…?” She looked directly at Amelia. “Mothers?”

  Amelia gasped and hugged Lucy tight. “How wonderful! I’m truly happy for you.”

  “Thank you. I still can’t believe it’s real.”

  “Are you excited?”

  “That, and also a little frightened.”

  “I suppose the unknown is always somewhat daunting.”

  “There is that, yes.”

  “And Oliver? Is he…?”

  “He’s thrilled. Which makes my joy all the more complete.”

  Will it ever happen for me? Would she someday be a mother? Conrad didn’t love her, of course. And why would he, when the marriage was starting out under such nefarious conditions?

  Something nudged her hand. She glanced down to see Lucy’s covering hers. “It will happen for you, too, Amelia. I just know it.”

  “I truly hope you’re right.”

  “You love Conrad, don’t you?”