Chapter Ten
The first thing Amelia did when she arrived was go straight to her sister’s room. The maid, Nora, was sitting in a chair by the bed. Julia was lying still with her eyes closed, and she was so dreadfully pale. Amelia climbed into bed next to her. No more of people telling her she couldn’t have her sister.
“Miss, I’m not sure you should—”
“She’s allowed,” Julia said, leaving her eyes closed.
“Miss Julia, your father said—”
“Mia has had a dreadful scare. She thought I was going to die without having forgiven her for being so horrible to me. You wouldn’t want her to remain guilty and miserable would you, Nora?”
The maid’s face settled into resignation. “No, miss.”
“Has she been completely dreadful?” Amelia tucked herself in next to Julia.
Julia gasped. “I have been a saint.”
Nora’s expression told a different story. “None of us behave our best when we’re feeling poorly, Miss Amelia.”
“That’s it.” Julia coughed. “I want Mrs. Polk back.”
“Well, you can’t have her,” Nora said without sympathy. “You scared her half to death, trying to die, and she’s having a rest.”
“You could have one as well,” Amelia offered. “I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
Nora looked between the two of them. “Miss Julia?”
Julia sighed. “Fine, but bring cake when you come back.”
“Oh yes, Your Highness. Your wish is my command, Highness.” The maid laughed her way out the door.
Amelia leaned in to whisper in her sister’s ear. “You two seem to be getting on.”
“She’s growing on me,” Julia whispered back. “Once she got over the pity and the mousiness, she’s actually rather interesting.”
A weight lifted off Amelia’s chest. Julia hadn’t been miserable and alone. She’d had Nora to keep her wickedness entertained. “You tried to die?”
“I didn’t try, so much as it just sort of happened.”
“Is it done happening?” Amelia asked.
“I think so.”
The danger was past. Another weight gone. There was time to say what needed to be said and put things to rights between them.
“Are you going to go back to being cross at me?” Julia asked. “Because if you are, I might try to die on purpose to get you to see sense again.”
Amelia laughed. “No, I’m not going to go back to being cross. Are you going to keep insisting I should marry Embry?”
“Yes. I think it’s what’s best for you. But you aren’t required to agree with me.”
“Well, that’s a first.”
“I know. I must truly be ill this time.”
Amelia laughed. She laid a hand on Julia’s brow. It was warmer than it ought to be, but not dangerously hot.
Julia closed her eyes again. “Mia, are you…can you stay awhile, or do you have to go back?”
“Would you like me to stay?” Amelia asked.
Julia nodded, sounding drowsy. “Only for a while. Embry can spare you for a little while.”
Embry could spare her for a lifetime, if Amelia had any say in the matter. She snuggled in closer to her sister, running soft fingertips over her hair. “I’ll stay as long as you like.”
When Nicholas arrived home from his catastrophic meeting with Lord Montrose, the estate agent was waiting for him.
“Mr. Fletcher? What brings you to London?”
“Lord Nicholas,” the man said, bowing formally. “I’m afraid I must speak with you.”
Dread seeped into his chest. “Of course. Is it about my father?”
Mr. Fletcher nodded.
“Perhaps we should include Philip, then. I believe he’s at home.”
They sent someone for the future Marquess. When Nick heard he’d been in the nursery playing games with the children, guilt settled in his stomach. Lady Wakefield was not right—Philip should know—but her wish to spare him was rooted in kindness. How many good days would be tainted by unfortunate news?
“Lord Wakefield’s condition is getting worse,” Mr. Fletcher explained when they were both assembled. “Yesterday, there was an episode with a tenant. He became violent.”
“Violent?” Philip straightened, frowning. “Surely not.”
“What was he doing dealing with a tenant?” Nicholas leaned forward in his chair.
Mr. Fletcher answered them both patiently. “It was one of the new tenants—Mr. Allen—that recently moved in. He wanted to handle the problem directly, to show that the lord of the manor didn’t take tenant issues lightly.”
He could believe that. “What happened?”
“He was having a good day, and then suddenly he wasn’t. He became confused. He didn’t know the man, and the man kept insisting he did. Your father shook him, rather violently. I’d ask leniency for Mr. Allen. He had no notion of your father’s condition.”
“Of course,” Nicholas said. “Was he hurt badly?”
“Nothing serious. I think the shock was the worst of it.”
Undoubtedly, the poor man. This should never have happened. “I’ll come back with you and set things to rights with him in person.”
“I’m going also.” Philip stood up.
“Philip.”
“I can spare a few days, and I think it’s time I see Father for myself.”
Nick put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Are you sure you want to?”
“Is there a chance he’ll get better and this will all blow over?” Philip asked.
Nicholas shook his head. The running of the estate was their responsibility now, and they needed to accept it.
Philip’s expression fell. “Better now, then, while there are still good days to be had.”
That Philip had actually hoped it might be possible was a testament to his brother’s optimistic nature. Nick wished he could spare him this, but they were all going to have to deal with it sooner or later.
“Pass me a roll, would you?”
Amelia took one from the covered bowl sitting in the middle of the bed and fired it with excessive force. It bounced off the headboard and over the side out of view.
Julia continued pulling pieces of cod apart with her fingers. “Brat.”
They were in the palace, surrounded by Julia’s recreated menagerie on a mountain of pillows. “I should tell Nora I heard you sniffle. Or worse, heard some sort of fluids building in your lungs.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would.”
“You’re truly that cross?”
“How should you feel if I wanted you to spend the rest of your life with someone who only saw your limp? Who only saw something that’s not you when they looked at you?”
Julia frowned at Amelia. “If they were good to me, I might—”
Amelia cut her off. “Don’t lie to me, Julia. You don’t even allow the servants to underestimate you, and you want me to believe you’d accept it from a husband?”
Amelia had always pitied the queen when they were children. She had been isolated as a child like the Bishops, though for wildly different reasons, but she didn’t even have a sibling to keep her company. Amelia had often thought how miserable it would have been if she were Victoria, with no Julia to keep her company. Now, she had rather mixed feelings on the subject. On the one hand, Amelia was certain she couldn’t survive it if something happened to Julia, but on the other—even from her sick bed, Julia could be so frustrating it made Amelia’s eyes cross.
Julia broke into a fit of rough hacking. When she’d finished, her face was red and she sagged back against the pillows.
Amelia poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. “Are you all right?”
“Fish. I just swallowed it wrong.”
Unfortunately, Amelia was as versed in her sister’s lies as Julia was in Amelia’s.
She cleared the food dishes away to the carpet and slid in beside Julia, pulling an extra blanket over them both. Amelia had known she was right, but it was confirmed when Julia wrapped her arms around Amelia and put her head on Amelia’s chest.
How could she marry someone and build a new life away from Julia, when any moment something terrible could happen? No. She had to find a way to explore her new feelings for Nicholas without ending up right back where she was—engaged.
She would convince Nicholas to become her lover, and find her happiness here with her family. Where she belonged.
“That cough is God punishing you for meddling in my love life.” Amelia stroked her sister’s hair.
“God has better things to do than help you make terrible decisions,” Julia retorted. It was followed by another fit of coughing, this one sounding worse than the last. Her skin was getting hotter by the minute.
Amelia was about to get up and call someone when their father came into the room.
“Abandoned the palace picnic already? I was just coming to join you.”
“Papa.” Amelia didn’t need to say anything else.
Lord Bishop turned around and started shouting the house down. Mrs. Polk was there in an instant, followed by an army of maids. A footman was sent for the doctor. Lord Bishop and Amelia were displaced from the room in the flurry.
“She was fine an hour ago,” Amelia said as they stood staring at the closed door together.
“None of that, sweetheart. She’ll be right as rain in no time, making you feel silly for worrying.”
“Yes. Yes, she will.” Amelia tried to force herself to believe it.
Nicholas was sitting down to tea alone—Philip had gone upstairs to see their father and Fletcher had pressing county fair business to see to—when Jasper arrived, full of righteous indignation.
“There you are!” Jas complained.
“Was I supposed to be somewhere else?”
“London, where I left you.” Jas waved the question away. “Montrose raced out here this morning. Has it worked? Is he finally setting Amelia free? What the devil is going on? I hate being uninformed.”
Nicholas ignored the dramatics, focusing on the oddity in Jasper’s tirade. “How do you know about Montrose’s movements?”
“I have a boy watching his house.”
Nicholas stared at him.
“Don’t look at me like that. Honestly, you should have thought of it, but at least one of us is taking your situation seriously.” Jasper sat down. “So, is he?”
“I don’t know.” Nicholas hoped it had. Maybe what he’d said to Montrose had an effect after all. “Did you ask Amelia before you left? She’d be the one to know for certain.”
Jas shook his head. “She’s here, too. Left before he did.”
Dread struck Nicholas in the gut. “Oh no.”
“What now?”
“He’s chasing after her. What if he tells her? Oh, bloody hell.”
“Tells her what?”
“I told him I wanted to marry her.”
“Oh.” Jasper considered for a moment. “Bloody finally.”
“I haven’t told her I want to marry her. She can’t find out like this.”
Comprehension dawned. “Ahh. Yes, I imagine his delivery might be somewhat lacking in romance.”
He needed a solution. Fast. “Could I beat him there, do you think? Maybe he stopped to change.”
“Afraid not. He arrived in the company of Lady Bishop an hour ago.”
Nicholas didn’t bother asking how Jasper knew that. “Don’t spy on my intended.”
“She’s not your intended until you stop being a coward and declare yourself. And she accepts you. That’s also a requirement, if I remember correctly.”
“I’m not a coward.”
“You have had every possible opportunity to tell her before this.”
“The moment wasn’t right.”
“The moment will never be right. Coward.”
Nicholas put his cup down. “If you keep calling me a coward, I will call you out.”
“Admit that you’ve been a dolt for not telling her. You know I’m a better shot than you. You’re only in a panic now because there’s a chance you could lose her.”
If she found out he was planning to marry her anyway, she’d think he was no better than Montrose. Amelia had made her stance on marriage very clear.
Nicholas stood up. He needed to see her. He needed to explain. If Montrose thought he was going to ruin this for Nick, he’d better be prepared for a fight.