by Laura Beers
“It does,” he replied, “and Miss Blackmore has offered to help me.”
Ellen nodded approvingly. “I think that is splendid, especially since Sybil seemed to take to Amelia right away.”
The sound of the dinner bell could be heard in the distance, beckoning them to come.
“Go and enjoy your dinner,” his mother encouraged.
Edmund reached for her hand. “I shall check on you later.”
“That is most thoughtful of you,” she responded with a smile, “but I don’t want you to fret over me.”
Edmund released her hand and took a step back. “I will always worry about you, Mother.”
“You are a good son,” his mother said softly.
He turned his gaze towards Amelia. “Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm. He was pleased when she accepted it.
“You are very considerate of your mother,” Amelia commented as they walked down the hall. “I think it is sweet.”
“My mother is my strength,” he confessed. “Without her, I would be lost.”
Amelia smiled over at him. “Your mother is a remarkable woman.”
“I agree completely with you.”
“I have enjoyed the stories she has shared about my own mother,” Amelia said as they descended the stairs.
“She did mention that she was friends with your mother.”
“Yes, they grew up in the same village.”
“How fortunate for you.”
Amelia grew silent for a moment. “I do love hearing stories about my mother’s youth. It reminds me that she lived a rich, full life.”
“I can imagine that would bring you comfort,” he remarked, glancing over at her.
“That it does.”
Morton met them at the base of the stairs. “If you will follow me to the dining room, dinner is served.”
They trailed behind the butler in silence and stepped into the dining room. He escorted Amelia to her chair and waited until she was situated before he took his seat at the head of the table.
Edmund laid his napkin onto his lap as a footman placed a bowl of soup in front of him and stepped back.
As he reached for his spoon, Amelia asked, “Do you like to hunt?”
“I do,” he replied.
“Fence?”
“Yes.”
“Fly fishing?”
He shook his head. “I must admit that I do not enjoy fly fishing.”
“I don’t blame you,” she remarked. “I would much rather ride my horse than stand by a river and hope to catch a fish.”
“It has not escaped my notice that you ride superbly.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “I took to it from a young age, and I have even learned how to ride astride and bareback.”
“Bareback?” he questioned. “Why would you be interested in doing something so foolhardy?”
Amelia gave him a half-shrug. “I thought it would be fun.”
“And was it?”
Her green eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “It was challenging to learn, but I found it to be quite exhilarating.”
“I have to admit that I am not surprised by your hoydenish ways.”
Amelia chuckled. “You must not let my sisters hear you say that.”
“And why is that?”
“They are constantly chiding me about my behavior and wish me to be more ladylike.”
Edmund took a sip of his soup, then asked, “Where are your sisters now?”
“In London,” she replied as she reached for her glass.
“Were they forced to find employment as well?”
Amelia took a sip of her drink before answering, “We all work.”
“I’m sad to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” she replied dismissively. “We all have found immense enjoyment in our employment.” She put her glass down. “Enough about me, I want to hear more about you.”
“And why is that?”
A mischievous smile came to her lips. “I find myself curious about you.”
“What would you wish to know?” he asked before he took another sip of his soup.
“Do you gamble?”
He shook his head. “I do not. I find the gambling halls to be quite unbearable.”
“I am surprised,” she said. “Most gentlemen of the ton enjoy frequenting the gambling halls.”
“I find that I do not enjoy wasting money on such a frivolous thing as gambling.”
“I think that is commendable.”
Edmund placed his spoon down and reached for his glass. “I also have never placed a ridiculous bet in the book at White’s.”
“You haven’t?”
He took a long sip of his drink, then responded, “Many of my classmates at Oxford did, but I was never interested. Frankly, I have always been more serious in nature. I spent most of my time in the library, devouring the books.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she gushed.
“It was.”
Amelia laid her spoon down and a footman came promptly to retrieve the bowl. “I wish women could study at university.”
“Careful,” he started, “your radical ways are starting to show again.”
She smiled, as he’d hoped she would. “I suppose it is just wishful thinking on my part.”
“It is.”
As a footman removed his bowl, Amelia asked, “Are you interested in archery?”
“I am,” he replied, growing tired of these ridiculous questions. “I am quite proficient at it.”
Amelia bobbed her head. “Do you enjoy playing shuttlecock?”
Edmund gave her a frustrated look. “Do you intend to pester me with questions throughout all of dinner?”
“I’m sorry,” she replied, but he couldn’t help but notice her response didn’t seem genuine. “I am afraid I got carried away.”
Edmund moved to the side as a footman placed a plate in front of him. “Perhaps we could eat our dinner before it gets cold.”
“That sounds delightful.”
11
“You want me to do what?” Edmund asked in a hushed voice as he stood in front of the nursery door.
Amelia smiled encouragingly at him. “I want you to go speak to your daughter.”
“And what do I say?” He wore a befuddled look on his face.
“Anything that comes into your mind.”
Edmund took a step back and sighed. “I am not good with children,” he announced. “In fact, I don’t think I have ever truly been around one before.”
“You were a child once,” she remarked. “What did you like to do?”
“Nothing that would be appropriate for Sybil to do.”
“Meaning?”
Edmund glanced towards the window in the hall. “My father used to take me on walks by the stream, and I would try to catch frogs.”
“We could do that.”
His expression grew stern. “Do be serious.”
“I am,” Amelia replied. “It is time for you to accept that some of your rules are rather foolish.”
“What if she falls into the stream?”
“Well,” she began, trying to stifle her laughter, “then she would get wet.”
“What if she caught a cold?”
“Children get colds.”
“It could turn into pneumonia and she could die.”
Amelia giggled, and she brought her hand up to cover her mouth. “I daresay that this is the most ridiculous conversation that I have ever had.”
Edmund tensed. “I’m being serious, Amelia.”
She wiped the humor off her face and took a step closer to him. “Children do not break easily,” she assured him. “They are resilient little creatures.”
His shoulder slumped slightly. “Now that I know she is my daughter, I can’t lose her,” he admitted softly.
“And you won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Amelia placed a hand on his sleeve. “Just be yourself around Lady Sybil,” she encourage
d, “and remember to be patient with her.”
“I suppose I can do that.”
Dropping her hand, Amelia moved to open the door to the nursery. “Are you ready to speak to your daughter?”
“I will pay you five thousand pounds to do it for me.”
She laughed, knowing he was in earnest. “No amount of money will convince me to do that.”
Edmund tilted his head. “Why is that?”
“As I have explained previously, money does not entice me, especially when it comes to doing the right thing.”
“I find that odd.”
She quirked her lips. “So that makes me odd?”
He smiled, making him appear quite handsome. “No. I must admit that I find many things about you odd.”
Amelia’s eyes held his before she turned towards the door. “Follow me,” she said as she turned the handle.
As they walked into the room, Amelia saw Sybil playing with a wooden doll next to a dollhouse in the corner. Miss Long rose from the chair next to her charge and dipped into a low curtsy when she saw the duke.
“I would like a moment to speak to my daughter privately,” Edmund announced in a clipped tone.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Miss Long said as she turned and stepped into a side room.
Amelia approached Sybil and smiled. “Good morning, Lady Sybil,” she greeted.
Sybil jumped up and hugged her. “Good morning, Amelia. Are you here to play dolls with me?”
“I am,” Amelia replied, “and I brought your father with me.”
Sybil looked up at her father with wide eyes before dropping into a slight curtsy. “Your Grace,” she murmured.
Edmund’s brow lifted. “You don’t need to call me ‘Your Grace’.”
“What should I call you?” the little girl asked, fidgeting with the fringe on the doll.
“I used to call my father ‘Papa’ when I was your age.”
Sybil bobbed her head. “I could call you ‘Papa’.”
Edmund crouched down next to the girl and gazed into her eyes. “You have the most beautiful eyes, Sybil.”
“I do?”
“Yes, they look like mine,” he said, pointing at them.
Sybil looked curiously at him. “What color are they?”
“They are amber,” he explained.
As Amelia watched Edmund interact with Sybil, she couldn’t help but notice other similarities between their facial features, specifically the shape of their cheekbones and jawline. How Edmund didn’t notice that his daughter was a spitting image of him was beyond her.
Sybil held up a doll to show Edmund. “Do you like this doll?”
“I do,” he replied.
“I have another doll that you could play with.”
Edmund’s eyes shot towards Amelia’s. “I don’t play with dolls. You do understand that, don’t you?”
A small pout came to the little girl’s face as she murmured, “I understand.”
Amelia cast a frustrated look at Edmund. “Your father may not play with dolls, but that doesn’t mean I don’t.”
Sybil smiled, transforming her entire face. “Do you want to play with Teresa or Olivia?”
“Olivia?” she questioned.
The little girl placed her hand in front of her mouth as if telling her a secret. “I named the doll before my new nurse showed up.”
“That makes sense,” Amelia replied. “I suppose I will play with Olivia, then.”
Sybil ran over to the dollhouse and brought back a wooden doll in an elaborate green dress to show her. “This is Olivia. She likes to play with horses.”
Amelia accepted the doll and crouched down next to her. “What is your doll’s name?”
“Alice,” Sybil replied, holding her up.
Edmund cleared his throat. “You named the doll after your mother?”
“I did.” Sybil lowered her gaze towards her doll. “I hope that is all right?”
Reaching over, Amelia nudged Edmund with her elbow and gave him an expectant look. He looked heavenward for a moment before saying, “Yes, it is perfectly acceptable.”
Sybil brought her gaze back up. “You aren’t mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” he asked.
“Because you are always mad.”
Edmund placed a hand on her shoulder. “Not anymore,” he said, trying to reassure her. “I promise that ends now.”
Sybil looked unsure, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she pointed towards the doll in Amelia’s hand. “My last nurse made all the dresses for my dolls.”
“These are exquisite,” Amelia said, running her hand over the green dress.
“I do miss her,” Sybil admitted softly. “Miss Cole was nice to me, but she told me that she had to leave.”
Edmund rose from his crouched position. “I hadn’t realized that you cared for Miss Cole,” he commented as he walked over to the dollhouse.
“All of my nurses have been kind to me, but Miss Cole was the nicest,” Sybil replied, her eyes tracking her father.
“Do you like Miss Long?” Edmund inquired.
Sybil bobbed her head energetically. “I do,” she replied. “She plays with me.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Amelia pointed to the doll in Sybil’s hand and asked, “What does Alice like to do?”
“She likes to pick flowers and skip rope,” the little girl announced proudly.
“Both of those things sound like fun,” Amelia remarked.
Sybil smiled. “Do you want to see Olivia’s bedchamber in the dollhouse?”
“I do,” Amelia said, rising.
The little girl rushed over to the dollhouse and pointed at a square shaped room on the fourth level. “This is Olivia’s room,” she shared. “It is right next to Alice’s room.”
Amelia reached in and grabbed the miniature replica of a four-poster bed. “The detail of this piece is impressive.”
“I had the dollhouse commissioned from London,” Edmund revealed. “I thought every girl should have one.”
“That was most thoughtful of you,” Amelia acknowledged as she returned the piece to its original location.
Sybil pointed towards a uniquely decorated room. “This is the Chinese box room,” she shared proudly. “Do you like it, Amelia?”
“I do,” she replied, smiling at the girl’s enthusiasm.
The longcase clock chimed, drawing their attention. Sybil placed her doll down next to the dollhouse and announced, “It is time for my walk.”
Edmund spoke up. “Would it be acceptable if Miss Blackmore and I escorted you on your morning walk?”
Sybil glanced between them with a worried look on her face. “Do you suppose Miss Long will mind?”
“I have no doubt that Miss Long won’t mind in the least,” Amelia replied.
“All right,” Sybil said. “Wait here while I go and retrieve my bonnet.”
Amelia watched as Sybil hurried over to the corner of the room and removed a pink bonnet off a hook.
“She is a delight,” Amelia murmured.
Edmund nodded, his eyes lingering on his daughter. “That she is.”
“I am pleased that you suggested we all go on a walk together.”
“I found I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her yet.”
Sybil rushed back over to Amelia and asked, “Would you mind tying the strings?”
“I would be happy to,” Amelia replied, crouching down in front of the girl.
Blowing out a puff of air, Sybil confessed, “I can’t tie the string yet.” She turned her attention towards Edmund. “Do you know how to tie strings together?”
“I do,” he replied.
The little girl nodded approvingly. “That is a good skill to have, I think.”
“It is,” Edmund confirmed.
Amelia rose from her crouched position and held her hand out to Sybil. “Are you ready to go on a walk?”
Sybil eagerly accepted her hand. “I am!”
Edmund watched Amelia and Sybil as they walked a few paces ahead of him on the footpath in the red garden. He couldn’t believe that because of his foolish pride, he had neglected his own daughter for five years. Five years! What kind of man was he?
He had been so blinded by his anger that he failed to notice what was right in front of him. When he peered deeply into his daughter’s eyes, he felt an undeniable connection between them, causing a surge of protectiveness to wash over him. And, in that moment, he knew he would do whatever it took to make sure she was taken care of.
And loved.
Yes, he would ensure that Sybil would not lack for anything, including love. But he wasn’t entirely sure how he could relate to his daughter. For that, he would need Amelia’s help.
Edmund smiled at the thought of his mother’s companion. She wasn’t as truly awful as he had first led himself to believe, and he had to admit that he was beginning to think she was quite formidable. After all, she had saved his mother, and helped him reunite with his daughter.
Sybil laughed at something Amelia said and the sound warmed his heart. For the first time in a long time, he felt oddly content.
Edmund stopped on the footpath in surprise. He hadn’t felt this way since before he married Alice.
Amelia glanced over her shoulder and gave him a questioning look. He realized he was dawdling, so he hurried to catch up to them.
As they started walking down the footpath together, Amelia prodded, “Why don’t you tell Lady Sybil what you enjoy doing with your time?”
Edmund glanced down at his daughter. “I enjoy reviewing my ledgers.”
Amelia cast him a frustrated look and shook her head. “Your father also enjoys riding his horse through the fields,” she said.
“You do?” Sybil asked, turning her attention towards him.
He nodded.
“When do you think I can learn how to ride?” Sybil asked.
Edmund shifted his gaze towards Amelia and asked, “How old were you?”
“I was six when I started riding,” she replied.
“I believe six is a fine age to start riding,” he said, “but I insist you will start your lessons on a pony.”
Sybil smiled. “I love ponies.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Edmund said. “What else do you love?”
His daughter scrunched her nose. “I love pudding.”
“Everyone loves pudding,” he commented.
