The Caversham Chronicles ~ the Beginning

Chapter One-3

“But she’s still my aunt,” she said, “and I’ll not have anyone else speak wrongly of her. The relationship I have with her is different from the one she has with her peers. To them, she is… an amusing companion who enjoys a good card game.”

“Likely why she was invited. Lady Merivale is a hostess who knows how to keep her guests entertained. And cards? The woman loves her gaming.”

The girl turned and he caught her profile for a moment. She looked young, her cheeks plump and smooth. By her looks, Cav would guess her maybe a few years older than his son, but not by much. And that made her young enough to be his daughter. God, he should leave her be. Allow her to continue on her walk. But her lower lip was full and glistening and for some reason he wanted to taste it.

He should quit talking to her and send the chit on her way. And yet he found himself asking, “Who is your aunt?”

She gave him an impish little grin. “Ah… I prefer to remain Miss, and you to remain Mister.”

“Sir,” Cav reminded her. “I prefer Sir.”

“Fine, then.” She gave him a regal little nod of the head. “Sir.”

“But that still doesn’t solve my current dilemma,” he said.

“What’s that?”

Now that he’d met her, he wanted to get to know her better. She gave him the impression she would make a wonderful dinner companion. “How shall I request our hostess to seat you next to me at dinner if I don’t know whom to ask for?” Where he’d been thinking of finding a polite way to leave Somerhill only minutes earlier, he now found a reason to stay. Even if she wasn’t likely to become his mistress.

Suddenly her face paled, her mouth forming a perfect “O,” and she began to stutter. “P-please, I beg you, do not do that. My aunt will think me most impertinent. Especially since we have not had a formal introduction. Besides—” She closed her eyes a moment and took a calming breath. “Besides, it can never come to pass. She’s had me relegated to the upstairs servants’ quarters. Likely as retribution for speaking my mind to her earlier.”

“So, you are not a servant?” Cav was confused. A frequent condition when dealing with the fair s*x.

She gave a short burst of laughter. It was a delightful and hearty sound. Then, as if suddenly remembering where she was, she glanced back at the entrance to the center of the maze. “No. I am not. My great-grandfather was a duke, and my uncle is….” She stopped, her head c****d as she contemplated releasing information that might place her family in his mind. “My uncle is… in the church, and my other uncles are notable nobles as well.”

“But you will not tell me who you are? Or who your aunt is?”

“I’m afraid not. There are many things I realize about this world. The first is, I know I was not born to grace the table of a noble husband. My father was the youngest son and he fell in love with the daughter of a country vicar, so while one uncle is a viscount, and another is in the church, I am a mere Miss.”

He wanted to tell her there was nothing “mere” about her. This chance encounter in a maze while she walked off her frustrations was enough to captivate him. She was charming as well as attractive and if he were twenty years younger, he’d ask to court her. And the way his body instantly responded to her told him she’d make a perfect wife.

“Whom do you mourn?” He wanted to know everything about her, foolish as that was. He could not resist her.

Just as she was about to answer, her eyes widened and she paused. “Did you hear that?” She whirled toward the place where she’d entered.

He’d heard nothing and shook his head. “I was wondering who you…” Cav could get nothing else out before voices drew closer and his new friend quickly disappeared through the opposite entrance from which she came. Almost simultaneously, a pair of lovers looking moon-eyed at each other entered the clearing. Glancing at Cav, they turned around and left with barely a greeting.

Cav followed his young lady but was never able to catch up to her. It was as if she disappeared. Vanished into the sunset.

He looked at the low-hanging sun perched just over the horizon, and chose to return to his suite to ready himself for the evening ahead—late dinner and an evening of music and singing. If Miss was not allowed to come down to dinner with the rest of the guests, she likely would take her meals in her rooms for the duration of her stay, because it was highly unlikely she would eat with the servants. Remembering her full, moist lower lip, he decided to instruct his valet to find out her identity.

Cav didn’t know what it was about her exactly, but… she intrigued him. From her voice to the way she moved, she fascinated him. She had confidence and intelligence, patience and mettle. If she knew who he was, she was unfazed. And that interested him most of all. Did she know? Would she change if she did?

Amelia ran through the ornate maze with its carved boxwood hedges easily hundreds of years old. The sweeping curves and twists in the design, brought to mind the words of the kitchen maid she’d seen cutting herbs in the garden. “On yer way out from the middle, at every fork ye come to, keep to the left.”

So she ran, intending to stop only after she reached the solitude of her tiny suite of rooms on the fourth level, but she encountered the housekeeper, Mrs. Lane, as the other woman exited the room across from where Amelia was staying. “Did you enjoy your walk, Miss?”

Amelia smiled and removed her shawl, flushed from the exertion. “Yes, it was pleasantly invigorating, thank you.”

“When would you like your dinner tray, Miss?”

“At eight, please,” Amelia replied. “Until then I shall rest. It’s been a long day. And after dinner, I should like to explore the library if it’s alright with Lord and Lady Merivale. Hopefully there are no planned activities in there.” Amelia hated the thought of running into the true guests during their festivities.

“I will find out for you, though I am certain it would be no problem.”

“Thank you,” Amelia said, then entered her rooms. She tossed her shawl across the foot of the bed, sat in the cushioned window seat, and stared down at the maze. Its interesting circular design had beckoned her earlier. The man in the center held her fascination now.

Sir. She wondered if he was still there where she’d left him, where she’d interrupted his privacy by barging into the clearing in the center of the maze. Who was he? All she could presume was that he was a lesser noble, a “Sir.” He’d admitted as much. He was a handsome sir, Amelia thought. Certainly older than she. Probably on the high side of forty and at his age, likely married.

She kicked off her shoes, brought her feet onto the cushion, and hugged her knees. Resting her chin on them, she sighed. It was just as well she didn’t participate in the festivities. To begin with, she and Aunt Katherine weren’t actually invited, were they? And it would do no good to dream of meeting a potential husband now, at her age. She had a debt to repay first. No one would want to take that on. And besides, no gentleman wanted the impoverished daughter of a younger son. Her mother, while a lady in Amelia’s eyes, was merely the daughter of a country parson in a small parish in Surrey. Her father had met her when he was passing through on his way back to London. They met, fell instantly in love, and married, staying in the area afterward.

If she had been given to tears over her situation, she would have cried long ago, when she realized her plain looks and lack of dowry would never attract a man. Marriage was not the be all and end all of a woman’s existence. She’d chosen to use her intelligence and abilities to help her father in his business and help pay for Harry’s university fees. Except she’d had no idea that her father had borrowed against the business to pay for Harry’s education and living expenses.

Her brother’s disappearance broke Papa’s heart. Literally. And it had come near to breaking her own. Amelia closed her eyes and fought the tears that came forth. Harry was alive out there, somewhere. She knew it, and before she left her aunt’s home, she’d have to make sure that he had a way to find her.

But that was putting the cart before the horse now, wasn’t it? Much as she wished she could leave her situation right at that very moment, she would have to stay until another opportunity presented itself, and she would have to be that annoying woman’s unpaid companion as long as that took. If there was any one thing to be grateful for, at least she had a roof over her head and food in her belly when so many others in her situation did not.