by Laura Beers
Edmund stopped in front of the gate and asked, “Are you ready to go in?”
Sybil bobbed her head vehemently. “I am.”
“Good,” Edmund replied as he opened the gate and stood to the side to allow them to enter first.
A fluffy-tailed bunny was hopping across the lawn as they stepped onto the windy footpath. As Sybil ran to chase after the bunny, Edmund came to stand next to Amelia, causing her to feel oddly nervous. Which was ridiculous. Why should I feel nervous around him, she wondered.
“How long do you think Sybil will chase that bunny before she gives up?” Edmund asked with mirth in his voice.
Amelia smiled as she watched Sybil run behind the bunny, her hands outstretched. “I daresay it could take some time. She is quite determined.”
“That she is.”
“Thank you for helping me with the prickly unicorn situation,” Edmund said with a side glance at her.
“It was no bother, especially since it is true that it is nearly impossible to get unicorns out of the forest,” she joked.
Edmund chuckled. “That it is.”
“But I do worry that Sybil may ask for another mythological animal in the near future.”
“I worry about that, as well.”
Sybil came running over to them, her breathing labored. “The bunny won’t let me pet it,” she shared dejectedly.
“I’m sorry, but bunnies can be rather peculiar about being petted,” Amelia said. “Why don’t we go look at all the flowers in the garden instead?”
Reaching for her hand, Sybil dragged her towards the red tulips just off the footpath. “Let’s look at these flowers first,” the little girl decided with newfound energy.
Amelia glanced over her shoulder and was pleased that Edmund was trailing close behind. When Sybil dropped down next to the tulips, she announced, “These are beautiful.”
“Yes, they are,” Edmund said from behind them. “Tulips were your mother’s favorite flower. I had them planted right after we were wed.”
Sybil looked up at her father. “Truly, Papa?”
Edmund nodded.
Amelia interjected, “That was most thoughtful of you.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I wanted to give Alice a reason to love the secret garden, but I’m afraid it didn’t work.”
“Well, your daughter loves it,” Amelia pointed out. “That must count for something.”
Edmund turned his attention towards Sybil. “It means the world to me,” he said before he crouched down next to her and began to explain the history of the tulip.
Amelia remained rooted in her spot, finding herself full of joy as she watched Edmund interact with his daughter. She had been right about one thing: he was a wonderful father.
Edmund watched Amelia and his mother as they conversed across the dinner table. Amelia smiled at something his mother said, causing his heart to race. She had the loveliest smile, one that lit up her face and caused her eyes to shine with an unspoken happiness.
He had told his mother that he was interested in matrimony again. Perhaps he should offer for Amelia and be done with it. After all, a marriage to her would be quite pleasant. They shared common interests and he even held some affection towards her. He didn’t love her, at least not yet. But he could grow to love her, he was sure of that.
Frankly, he was already halfway there, especially after he had kissed her. That kiss had changed everything. When their lips met, he knew that she was the right woman for him.
His mother’s voice broke through his musings. “Don’t you agree, son?”
“Pardon?” he asked, turning his gaze to meet hers.
She gave him an amused look. “Amelia has offered to play the pianoforte for us this evening, and I asked if you were agreeable to that.”
“I most definitely am.”
With an approving nod, his mother smiled over at Amelia. “Then it is decided.”
Edmund shifted his gaze towards his mother’s companion. “I must admit that I am eager to hear you play,” he said. “We haven’t had anyone play the pianoforte in ages.”
“It is true,” his mother agreed. “I haven’t been able to read the sheet music in quite some time.”
Amelia wiped the sides of her mouth with her napkin before returning it to her lap. “My mother ensured that I was proficient at the pianoforte and the harp at a young age. But I find I prefer the guitar.”
“How enchanting,” his mother declared.
Edmund shifted in his chair and shared, “Miss Blackmore revealed to me that she writes her own music.”
His mother lifted her brows. “She does?” she asked. “That is an impressive accomplishment.”
“I agree,” he said.
Amelia smiled timidly. “I find that it is a pastime that I enjoy doing. It provides me with great solace.”
“Perhaps I can purchase a guitar in the village, and you can play us one of your songs,” Edmund suggested.
“I would be happy to play for you,” Amelia replied.
Before Edmund could respond, he heard his name being shouted in the entry hall. “Harrowden!” a voice roared; it was one that he heard in his nightmares frequently.
Edmund shoved back his chair and strode into the entry hall. He saw Mr. Rawlings standing in the middle of the room, his chest heaving with fury. Another tall, brawny man was standing behind him, restraining a third man’s hands behind his back.
“Get out of my house!” Edmund exclaimed, pointing towards his main door. “You are not welcome here!”
Mr. Rawlings pointed a finger and advanced towards him. “You thought it would work, but you were wrong!”
“What are you even referring to?” Edmund asked.
Mr. Rawlings came to a stop in front of him. “You thought by burning down my barn that I would sell you my property!” he accused.
“You are mad!” Edmund shouted. “Get out of my house, or I will drag you out myself!”
Mr. Rawlings scoffed. “Your plan won’t work.” He leaned closer to him. “I will never sell my land to you.”
“I would be very cautious about throwing out slanderous accusations,” Edmund growled, his hands balling into tight fists. “Need I remind you to know your place?”
“I am well aware of my place, Your Grace,” Mr. Rawlings mocked as he stepped back and pointed at the man being restrained. “Your thug told us everything we needed to know.”
“What are you talking about?” Edmund shouted. “I am not even acquainted with this man!”
“We caught your thug trying to burn down my barn, and he informed us that your steward paid him to do it.”
“That is ludicrous!”
“Is it?” Mr. Rawlings asked. “It is no secret that you have been trying to buy my land for years.”
“Yes, I have been trying to buy your land, not steal your land from you.”
Mr. Rawlings’s eyes narrowed. “It matters not!” he declared. “I intend to go to the magistrate.”
“Go ahead,” Edmund said with a wave of his hand. “The magistrate will never side with you over a duke.”
“That may be true, but at least everyone will know the type of person you are.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I am not the first person that you have implemented this devious tactic against,” Mr. Rawlings accused. “You have done this to many other hard-working farmers that have had no choice but to sell to you when their lands were set on fire.”
Edmund scowled. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“You don’t?” Mr. Rawlings huffed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I would have you know that I bought that land fairly.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Edmund walked over to the thug and demanded, “Who really paid you to set Mr. Rawlings’s barn on fire? And I want the truth.”
The man kept his gaze lowered. “Mr. Ridout, Your Grace.”
“You are lying!”
“He offered
me ten pounds to burn the barn to the ground,” the man replied with a shake of his head.
“Have you done this kind of work for him in the past?” Edmund asked, a sudden sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.
The man nodded hesitantly. “I burned a few acres of the Lowell’s land just last week, Your Grace.”
Feeling the air escape his lungs in a shocked gasp, Edmund questioned, “Did you say the Lowell’s land?”
“I did.”
Edmund blinked. Then, he blinked again. His steward had been buying up the land for him by disreputable means, and he’d had no idea.
Turning back towards Mr. Rawlings, he asked, “What other landowners were forced to sell to me after their properties were burned?”
“At least five landowners that I am aware of,” Rawlings answered.
Edmund swore under his breath. “I had no idea,” he declared. “I swear it.”
Mr. Rawlings gave him an exasperated look. “I doubt that, Your Grace,” he said dryly.
“It’s true,” Edmund argued. “I have envisioned becoming the largest landowner in all of England, but not at other people’s expense.”
Amelia spoke up from behind him. “I believe him,” she declared.
Mr. Rawlings’s lips parted as he turned his gaze towards her. “Please say that you aren’t in earnest, Miss Blackmore.”
“I am,” Amelia replied.
“That is what he wants you to believe,” Mr. Rawlings asserted. “He manipulates people into doing exactly what he wants.”
“I don’t believe that to be the case,” Amelia remarked, tilting her chin stubbornly.
“Then he has you fooled,” Mr. Rawlings stated, walking closer to her. “Remember what I told you in the woodlands.”
“I do,” Amelia said, “but you are wrong. His Grace is not the man you think he is.”
Mr. Rawlings ran a hand through his blond hair. “Alice used to think like you…”
Edmund had heard enough as he felt the rage building inside of him. He shoved Mr. Rawlings against the wall and pressed his arm to his chest. “You will not speak about Alice, not in my home!”
“Why?” Mr. Rawlings asked. “Because it is inconvenient for you?”
“You know perfectly well why,” Edmund seethed, leaning closer to him.
Mr. Rawlings glared at him as he stated, “You never deserved her, you know.”
“I warned you,” Edmund said as he reared his fist back and punched Mr. Rawlings squarely in the jaw. He heard Amelia gasp as he stepped back and let Mr. Rawlings drop to the floor.
Mr. Rawlings placed his hand to his jaw and stared up at him. “I never knew what she saw in you.”
“Get out of my home,” Edmund spat out.
Rising, Mr. Rawlings kept his hand on his reddened jaw. “Gladly, but I shall return tomorrow with the magistrate.” He pointed at the thug with his other hand. “And I intend to turn this man over to the constable.”
“Go ahead,” Edmund said. “I care not what you do to him.”
Edmund watched as Mr. Rawlings and the other men exited the main door before turning his heated gaze towards Amelia.
“How exactly do you know Mr. Rawlings?” he demanded.
Amelia took a step back, looking hesitant. “I met him in the woodlands.”
“You lied to me,” Edmund accused, taking a commanding step towards her. “You told me that you didn’t speak to anyone that day I saw you leaving the woodlands.”
“I did, and I am sorry.”
Edmund stared at her with disapproval. “Did you meet with him only once?”
Amelia shook her head as she lowered her gaze. “I met with him on one other occasion.”
“Even after I informed you that the woodlands were off-limits?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Yes.”
Edmund let out a disbelieving huff. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” he asked. “You disobeyed me.”
Amelia brought her gaze up, and her eyes had turned fiery. “You have no right to dictate my actions.”
“Yes, I do!” he shouted. “You work for me!”
“No, I work for your mother,” Amelia contended, her voice rising.
Edmund took another step towards her. “That matters not. Mr. Rawlings is not who you think he is,” he warned. “I was trying to protect you from him!”
“I don’t need your protection. Mr. Rawlings did not intend me any harm.”
“Clearly, you do need my protection,” Edmund replied. “If you weren’t so obstinate, you would discover that there are men who truly are wolves in sheep’s clothing.”
“I am well aware of that fact.”
Edmund leaned closer, his face only inches from her own. “You are a foolish girl that—”
His mother’s voice cut him off. “Edmund!” she shouted. “You are being entirely unfair to Amelia.”
“Am I?” he asked, turning his attention towards his mother. “She has no idea who that man is, and she can’t see him for who he truly is.”
“Perhaps you can explain it to her privately,” his mother suggested as he noticed for the first time that servants were standing back from the entry hall, whispering behind their hands.
Edmund took a step back from Amelia. “I need to be alone right now,” he said, maintaining her gaze. “I don’t wish to be disturbed, by anyone.”
“Edmund…” Amelia started.
He put his hand up, stilling her words. “Do not speak,” he stated. “You will only be wasting your breath.”
As he stormed off, he couldn’t believe that Amelia had snuck off to speak to Mr. Rawlings, even after he specifically forbade her from doing so. How could she be so blind? Couldn’t she see Mr. Rawlings for who he truly was?
He was beginning to wonder if Amelia was the right woman for him after all.
14
“Thank you for reading to me,” Sybil said softly as she laid in her bed.
Amelia smiled. “You are most kindly welcome,” she replied as she placed the book onto the table. “Now it is bedtime.”
As she bent to blow out the candle, Sybil asked, “Who was Papa yelling at tonight?”
She stilled. “You heard that?”
Sybil bobbed her head. “I did.”
Amelia went to sit next to her on the bed and said, “You don’t need to concern yourself with that.”
“I don’t like it when Papa yells. It scares me.”
“Frankly, it scared me, as well,” Amelia replied, brushing a piece of hair off Sybil’s face.
“I thought adults don’t get scared?”
“I wish that was the case, but we get scared for different reasons.”
Sybil gave her a curious look. “Like what?”
Amelia laughed lightly. “You are the most inquisitive girl.”
“Miss Long says I ask too many questions,” Sybil admitted softly.
Reaching for her small hand, Amelia squeezed it tenderly. “Don’t ever stop asking questions,” she encouraged. “That is how you learn new things.”
“I like to learn new things,” Sybil said proudly.
“That is good.”
“Do you like to learn new things?”
“I do.”
Sybil bobbed her head approvingly. “I’m hoping to be as smart as Papa one day,” she shared.
“I have no doubt that you will be.”
A small yawn escaped Sybil’s lips. “Do you think we can go back to the secret garden again?” she asked sleepily.
“I don’t see why not.”
“Tomorrow?” the little girl asked eagerly.
Amelia smiled at Sybil’s exuberance. “I will have to speak to your father about that.”
“I hope he says yes.”
“I should go,” Amelia said, rising from the bed. “After all, it is well past your bedtime.”
“Do you have to go?”
“I do,” she replied as she blew out the lone candle on the table.
; Sybil let out a disappointed sigh. “I suppose the sooner I go to bed the sooner I can wake up and play with my dolls.”
Leaning forward, Amelia kissed the little girl on her forehead. “I shall see you tomorrow.”
“I’m glad.”
“Are you?”
Sybil smiled. “When I blew on the dandelion, I wished that you would never leave.”
Her heart dropped at the little girl’s words, knowing that wouldn’t be the case. “Sadly, there will come a time that I will leave Harrowden Hall.”
“Must you?”
“I’m afraid I must.”
Sybil grew quiet. “But I don’t want you to go.”
“You must understand that it has nothing to do with you,” Amelia responded. “I love spending time with you.”
“Is it because of Papa?”
Amelia shook her head. “I have two sisters back home that miss me very much and want me to come home to them.”
“You should tell them that you found a new home.”
“It isn’t that simple, but I wish it was.”
In a dejected voice, Sybil asked, “Why does everyone always leave me?”
Amelia offered her a sad smile. “I know it must seem that way to you, but you are most fortunate. It gives you an opportunity to meet new people.”
“I suppose,” Sybil said in an unconvinced tone, “but I miss the people that leave.”
“Good night, Lady Sybil.”
Sybil rolled over to her side. “Good night, Amelia.”
As Amelia left the nursery, she found herself growing uneasy at the prospect of leaving Lady Sybil. She had grown attached to the little girl and didn’t want to cause her any distress when she left Harrowden Hall. That poor girl had been through enough already.
She walked towards the library, hoping to find Edmund still there. She wanted to speak to him and hoped that he would be receptive to her.
The library door was closed, and she softly knocked on it.
A long moment later, she heard Edmund command, “Enter.”
Amelia opened the door slowly and walked into the room. She saw Edmund sitting in a chair next to the fire with a drink in his left hand. His jacket had been removed and was draped over the back of the chair. His eyes were red below his tousled hair, and he had a look of deep anguish on his face.
