Love Birds: The Complete Collection

by Ruth J. Hartman

  “Very well. Go on.”

  “First, let me tell you what happened to Mr. Fletcher. His life was spared and he was battered and bruised…”

  “Well I’m very glad to hear it was nothing more than—”

  “But, I’m afraid his hand was stomped on. Crushed in fact.”

  She grimaced. “How ghastly. The poor man.”

  “Quite.”

  “Conrad. I’m sorry but I still don’t understand why she was at your house in your… arms.”

  Encouraged by her use of his Christian name, he continued. “When you and I were at the Shipleys’ home for Pall Mall, I had introduced Cecilia as my relation.”

  “I remember that quite well, I’m afraid.” She crossed her arms. “You said she was a cousin.”

  “I wasn’t exactly truthful about that.”

  “I knew it. So she’s not your relation.”

  “No, that part was true.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “You see, Cecilia and I are in fact related.”

  Amelia’s mouth dropped open and she uncrossed her arms, but she made not a sound.

  “But we are much closer than cousins. She’s my… sister. Well, half sister, to be exact.”

  With a slow back and forth shake of her head Amelia frowned. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t possibly have heard you correctly. I thought you said sister.”

  “That’s exactly what I said.”

  “But that’s not possible. I’ve met your mother.”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “And while I realize that Lord Lofton was in fact not your real father—” Her cheeks reddened. Was she thinking of her blackmail scheme about that very thing? “It simply cannot be that Mr. Fletcher, that he… he and your mother…”

  Conrad moved forward on his chair and leaned near her. “Amelia. What I’m telling you is the truth. I only found out recently who my real father was. Cecilia was the first to wonder about a connection. After I was there to have a tooth pulled, she began to notice similarities between Mr. Fletcher… Andrew, and myself. I’m not sure I ever would have noticed on my own, and I doubt Andrew would have either.”

  “Then how do you know for a fact it’s true? It could be a simple coincidence.”

  “For one thing, Mr. Fletcher said he’d known my mother many years ago when they were young. And that he’d… loved her then. He said he’d searched for her but had never known what had become of her. And then, I confronted my mother.”

  “Oh dear. I’m sure that wasn’t enjoyable.”

  “You have no idea. But I wanted to know the truth. Needed to know.”

  “And your mother actually admitted it?”

  “Not at first. But when she finally did, she cried. Actually cried. Other than yelling at the servants or berating me, my mother doesn’t really show much emotion.”

  Amelia looked down and ran her finger along the seam of the armrest on her chair. “So, what I saw that day… when you had your arms around Cecilia…”

  “What you saw was a brother and sister encouraging each other.”

  “Because their father had been severely injured.”

  “That’s part of it, yes.”

  She focused on him again. “There’s something else? Was someone else hurt that day?”

  “No one else was hurt… physically.”

  “Conrad, what are you saying?”

  He crossed the few feet separating their chairs and knelt in front of her. Emboldened by her willingness to listen to him at last, he took her hands in his. “What I’m saying is this. Andrew, with his hand irrevocably crushed, will no longer be able to perform his duties as a surgeon-dentist.”

  She blinked. “Oh…”

  “That being the case, I told Cecilia that she and her parents were not to worry about their finances. That I would make sure they were properly taken care of. From now on.”

  “Oh, Conrad…” She turned her head away.

  I’ve done it now. She’ll think me foolish, giving money to people I hardly know. The worst sort of irresponsible—

  When she flung herself into his arms, he was nearly knocked from his knees to his bottom.

  “Amelia? What are—?”

  “You are the sweetest, most thoughtful, generous man I’ve ever—”

  Her lips pressed to his, squelching whatever else she was going to say.

  But Conrad cared not. Not a whit.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The Fletcher’s tiny house sat in the shadows of two larger ones. The sun could only reach it when directly overhead. If the shabby structure had a state of mind, surely that would have been depression.

  Conrad raised his fist and knocked on the door, not looking forward to seeing his father in pain. But see him he would.

  Cecilia opened the door. “Conrad?” She glanced behind him then back to his face. “What are you…?” Her neck and face reddened. “Forgive me for making you stand in the breeze. Please, come in.”

  She stepped away so he had room to enter, although in such tight quarters, he still had to squeeze past her.

  He removed his hat and held it at his side, reminding himself that there would be no butler there to take it from him. “I’ve come to see about Andrew. How is he faring?”

  Cecilia shut the door softly and faced him. “His spirits are down.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I can imagine.” But he couldn’t. Not really.

  “Would you like to sit down? I can prepare some tea.”

  “No, no… Please don’t trouble yourself on my account. I’m sure you’re quite busy with things here.”

  “Yes, I—”

  “Cecilia? Who’s there?”

  Conrad recognized his father’s voice. His heart squeezed with anguish for the man’s suffering, but also with love.

  She turned to the back of the house. “It’s Conrad, Papa.”

  “Oh?” A shuffling came from behind a closed door. The knob turned and the flimsy door squeaked open. Andrew stepped out, holding his hand against his stomach. A white bandage was wrapped around it until all that was visible beneath was the very ends of his three middle fingers. Red patches colored the bandage where blood had begun to seep through.

  But Andrew smiled, joy filling his face as if he’d been given the most wonderful gift, simply because Conrad had come to see him. Such a small thing, yet it seemed to mean the world to him. Conrad’s throat went dry and he swallowed, hoping for some relief.

  “Thank you for coming, but you needn’t have worried yourself about me. I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to.” He sat in one of the old chairs that faced the fireplace and held out his hand to the other chair.

  Conrad stepped forward and sat. Cecilia walked away. A cabinet opened and closed. Was she making tea for them after all?

  “Andrew, of course I had to come. I’ve been so concerned about you. All of you. When Cecilia told me of your… accident…”

  With a shake of his head, Andrew lowered his voice. “I told her not to bother you. That you…” He glanced away.

  “No, I’m so glad that she did.”

  “And she told me what you’d said, about helping with our… expenses. I cannot thank you enough. I’ll pay you back as I can, of course. I wanted to write you a note.” He glanced down at his bandage. “But…”

  “I don’t require your thanks. We are family, are we not?”

  Andrew looked back. His smile returned. “That we are… son.”

  Warmth encircled Conrad’s heart. He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, Andrew sat rubbing his fingers.

  “Are you in much pain?”

  “I… at times. But it’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

  “I am concerned for you.”

  “But you needn’t.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to stop me from caring.” He lifted one corner of his mouth in a smile.

  Andrew swallowed. “Th-thank you. That…” He cleared his throat.

  �
�Now…” Conrad sat forward and placed his hat on his lap. “I had intended on asking you how I could be of help, but I assumed you would have told me there was nothing you needed.”

  With a shrug, his father nodded. “Yes… yes I suppose that would have been my answer.”

  “That being the case, I’ve taken matters into my own hands.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’ve arranged for you to have a maid to help you with your care, any care your wife might require, and to help Cecilia with whatever she might need.”

  Andrew opened his eyes wide. “B-but… you needn’t…”

  “Please, I want to. It’s such a small thing for me to do.”

  “No, it’s not small. Not to us.”

  Cecilia returned and set a tray with a teapot and cups on a table to Conrad’s right. She frowned. “Is everything all right, Papa?”

  “Your… brother has arranged for us to have the services of a… maid.”

  “Pardon?” Turning to Conrad, she laid her hand on his shoulder. “Is this true?”

  He nodded, suddenly unable to form words in light of their gratitude. Doing something kind for others was still relatively new to him. If his joyous heart was any indication of the benefits he himself would have reaped, it was a pity he hadn’t done it sooner.

  “Oh my goodness! You are a dear.” She leaned down and hugged him, her blonde hair briefly falling across his face.

  The sensation tickled and a sneeze threatened to emerge. He gritted his teeth. Not now.

  She straightened and wiped a tear from her cheek.

  Conrad cleared his throat and the sneeze ran into hiding. Thank heavens. “The maid, a Miss Percival, will start tomorrow, and will be here every morning for as long as she is required.”

  “How generous you are. I cannot thank you enough.” Andrew sniffed and looked down at his bandaged hand.

  Emboldened by their acceptance of the maid, he smiled. Hopefully they would accept the rest of his plans for them, as well. “I am also in the process of having a cottage built on my property.”

  “Oh?” Andrew tilted his head.

  Cecilia tilted hers in exactly the same manner. “How lovely for you.”

  Now comes the enjoyable part. He clasped his hands together in his lap. “Actually, I’m hoping it will be lovely… for you.”

  As the news sunk in, Andrew leaned against the back of his chair. Cecilia plopped down onto a stool at her father’s feet. For several seconds, they remained speechless.

  A crease marred their father’s forehead. “No… no of course you must not think that we could—”

  “Please.”

  “But… I… we couldn’t possibly.”

  Would they indeed refuse his good intentions? “I want to do this for you. It’s my strongest desire.”

  Cecilia remained quiet, but Andrew still shook his head slowly from side to side. “I can’t allow you to spend your own money on us.”

  “Why ever not? You are my relatives.”

  “What would people think? There would be talk. Your reputation…”

  “I’ve already thought of that. If you would perhaps concede to being, say, my steward.” He held up a hand. “It wouldn’t require you to do any manual labor, of course, simply to oversee my workers and make sure they were doing their work in a timely fashion.”

  “I…” Andrew’s cheeks reddened.

  Oh no… I’ve embarrassed him. Conrad placed his hat on the arm of his chair and knelt in front of his father. He took Andrew’s uninjured hand in his own. He swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat. “F-father, I don’t mean to cause you alarm, or hurt your feelings in any way. This is something I can do and something I long to do… for you and yours.” He glanced at Cecilia and back. “If circumstances had been different, I would have had a much different life. But since my mother… since she decided…” He cleared his throat. “Since she made the decisions that she made, I was given no choice.”

  “But… son…” Andrew squeezed Conrad’s hand. “I do appreciate it. Truly… it just would be…”

  “I want to do this for you. Please. Allow me?” He blinked rapidly, trying to ward off the tears that threatened to tumble down his cheeks.

  Andrew peered down at him. “It’s something you really desire? To have us live… on your property?”

  A huge smile spread across Conrad’s face. “Oh yes, it is indeed.”

  Andrew shrugged and looked at Cecilia.

  Conrad released Andrew’s hand and returned to his chair. “So you’ll accept?”

  Cecilia moved to her father’s side and put her arm around his shoulders but said not a word. Andrew reached up and patted her face. “Would you like that, daughter?”

  “Oh, Papa… It’s your decision.”

  “But would you like it?”

  A whisper, so low that Conrad had to lean forward to hear, came from her lips. “Yes, Papa. Yes, I would. And I know Mama would, too.”

  Conrad released the breath he’d not realized he’d held.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “My wedding day is tomorrow!” Nervous excitement rippled beneath Amelia’s skin. Her exclamation, however, seemed not to have much effect on her cat Sunny. He barely opened one eye before going back to sleep. At least he’d stopped trying to nap on her wedding dress. Mother would be livid if she found out.

  She’d taken it upon herself, no surprise there, to have the arrangements made. At least Amelia was allowed some say in her gown.

  She sat down and ran her fingers over the ivory fabric of her dress that was spread out on her bed. Tiny seed pearls lined the edge of the bodice and the cuffs of the long sleeves. Small ribbons of emerald green were tied in bows near the hem, giving the dress some added color. Amelia had wanted her gown to be solid emerald, but Mother wouldn’t hear of it.

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. No matter. I still get to marry my sweet Conrad. When he’d visited her and told her who Cecilia really was to him and his plan to help them financially, she’d loved him even more than she had before. Although she’d been quite angry and hurt when he’d first arrived.

  The thought that he and Cecilia might have been involved… She swallowed and shook her head, ashamed at her words that day. Accusing him of the worst sort of behavior. Shame brought heat to her face. What he must have thought of her, running away from his house, refusing to see him when he called and then being cruel to him when he did gain entrance into her home.

  But he had made it clear that he still wanted her. Longed to be with her. When he touched her face or kissed her, she harbored no doubt of his thoughts. She sighed. Tomorrow morning would be the ceremony, then a reception, and finally…

  Amelia touched her fingers to her lips. She had kissed Conrad, more than once, and held his hand. Beyond that though…

  Beyond that was a mystery. What would happen tomorrow night? Had Conrad had prior experience? Something told her that no, he hadn’t. He’d indicated that women usually did not care for his company, and since Cecilia had turned out to be his sister and not his…

  Time to stop dwelling on her flawed past assumptions. The important thing was that she was to be his wife. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her middle, barely able to contain her joy.

  A knock came from the door.

  Probably Annie, who’d been even ruder to Amelia since finding out that she’d been replaced as a chaperone by Cecilia.

  She smoothed her hands over the dress one last time and then hung it in her armoire. “Come in.”

  The door opened. But it wasn’t Annie. “Mother?”

  “I need to speak with you, Amelia.” She slipped into the room and shut the door behind her.

  Her mother never came to her room just to talk. “What about?”

  Mother crossed the room and sat on the bed. She patted the coverlet. “Sit with me, won’t you?”

  Suspicion slowed Amelia’s steps. What could she want? But when she reached the bed, she sat down.

&n
bsp; “Darling, since you are to be married tomorrow, I thought we should discuss… a few things.”

  Oh heavens… she didn’t want to talk about… Heat coursed through her as embarrassment about discussing that brought to mind her mother drawing pictures of couples… Oh dear.

  Or worse yet, Mother making reference to her and Father when they—

  She shuddered. No, surely not.

  “Amelia, you’ve a flush. Are you feeling ill?”

  “I’m fine.” Just go away.

  “Tomorrow will change your life forever. You do realize that, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Don’t be scared, darling.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her mother stroked a finger down Amelia’s cheek. “My poor brave daughter. You have no idea what will happen to you.”

  “Mother, why are you talking like this?”

  “I’m afraid that it’s a woman’s plight to have to put up with certain… things once she’s wed.”

  Amelia stood and walked to the window. Anything was better than looking at her mother as she described what Amelia was fairly certain would be coming next.

  Steps sounded behind her and Amelia’s shoulder warmed as her mother touched her. “It’s all right to be afraid.”

  Amelia turned. “But I’m not afraid.”

  “You don’t need to put on an act for me.”

  “I’m happy I’m going to marry Conrad tomorrow.”

  “Of course you’re excited for the ceremony. It’s what happens after…”

  “I’m looking forward to that, too.”

  “Amelia! How gauche.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to experience that with my new husband?”

  “It’s unseemly.”

  “Perhaps some would think so, but I don’t.”

  Her mother grabbed her by the shoulders. “That’s because you have no idea what’s in store for you.” She turned away. “I was so naïve. I didn’t realize that when you’re alone with your husband—”

  Something must have happened on her parents’ wedding night to upset her mother, but Amelia had no desire to hear of it. Please don’t tell me…

  “There are certain attributes that a man possesses that a woman does not.”