Chapter Six
Nicholas and Jasper chose to brave the late winter chill rather than share the tense confines of his parents’ carriage. Lady Wakefield was in fits—of course that Bishop girl would find a way to foul things up—and Nick was afraid of what he’d say if he had to listen to it for even the short distance home.
In contrast, Jasper was in glorious spirits. “I’ve never been on the honorable end of a challenge. I feel like we should celebrate.”
“Do you think she means to break it off?” She couldn’t possibly want to go through with it after tonight—Amelia had been more upset than he’d ever seen her. If only he knew what had actually happened between them.
“You know her better than I do.”
He would never want Amelia to be unhappy but, since the catastrophe had already occurred, if she happened to end up unattached he couldn’t claim he would be disappointed. Amelia deserved a husband who adored and understood her, not some clod who made her cry at her own engagement party.
“Will you declare yourself if she does?”
He wanted to, desperately, but it might not be that simple. She obviously had no idea how he felt, and she had pulled away when he’d reached for her. “I—”
“Because if you don’t, you deserve the life of misery that will inevitably follow.”
“Tell me how you truly feel,” Nicholas choked out around his surprise.
“Always.”
When they reached the house, Lord Wakefield was waiting for him in the foyer. Nick’s laughter died out.
“Nicholas, I need to speak with you.”
Jasper raised and lowered his eyebrows before heading upstairs, leaving them alone.
“Of course.” Nick studied his father’s face, trying to gauge which version he was dealing with. He’d been lucid at the party, but Nick was learning the changes could happen with disturbing quickness.
“Nicholas,” Lord Wakefield began. “I’m certain you’re aware that the Wakefield name has never been touched by scandal.”
“I am.” That didn’t help. The myriad lectures on the subject from his childhood meant they could be in any time in his father’s mind. His expression while delivering them hadn’t changed since Nicholas was a boy of five.
“And I’m certain you’re also aware that any interference in the Bishop girl’s engagement would result in scandal of more than one variety.”
The present then. For the first time, Nicholas wished his father would fall into a different time.
Lord Wakefield pinned his youngest son with a stare honed by generations of Marquesses. “I hold our family’s reputation to the highest standard. Your mother has relentlessly protected the Wakefield name while I have been unwell. You will not be the first to bring shame upon us.”
Nicholas squared his shoulders. “Do you feel I tarnished our reputation this evening?”
The Marquess took in his son’s stance and lifted chin. “Do not think I didn’t notice with whom Lady Amelia returned to the ballroom.”
“Amelia and I are friends.” Saying it was starting to taste like ashes in his mouth.
“Lord Montrose and his intended were happily on their way to the altar, and now there is discord. My mind might not be what it used to, but it has not become so derelict that I cannot see what is in front of my face.”
“The falling out tonight wasn’t about me.” Nicholas wished it had been, but Amelia had no idea how he felt. Even his overt attempts at flirting with her were brushed aside as teasing.
“Do you pretend to claim you do not harbor feelings for Amelia Bishop?”
There it was, in the open. For years they had existed in a silent understanding—his parents did not ask and he did not impose upon them a confession of his affections—but no longer.
“I do not.”
Lord Wakefield sighed. “Your feelings may not be under your control, but your actions are. You will not involve yourself in the Bishop girl’s engagement.”
Nicholas didn’t have an immediate response. Fortunately, none was required.
The Marquess of Wakefield had made his declaration; the only possible outcome was for his son to abide by it. Lord Wakefield nodded his head—obligation satisfied—and took himself off to the library.
It didn’t take long for Jasper to find him after Nick returned to his room. The Viscount of Bellamy’s understanding of the human need for privacy was almost nonexistent.
“What did he want?”
Nick untied his neckcloth and tossed it on the dressing table. “You know, in mannered circles, one knocks before entering a room.”
“Mannered circles are boring, populated with boring people who have sticks lodged firmly up their backsides. And not in the exciting way.”
“There’s an exciting way to have a stick in your backside?”
Jasper’s grin was wicked. “You left Paris too soon. There is a great deal of the world that you still don’t know about, Master Wakefield.”
“If it involves being sodomized, I left just in time.”
“Matter of opinion. With a properly deviant partner, it can be quite…” Jasper sprawled out across Nicholas’s bed. “No. I’ll not be distracted. What did your father want?”
“To declare that I will not be involving myself in Amelia’s engagement.”
“He must have been pleased to discover that you have been grossly passive.”
“I haven’t been—”
Jasper waved his arm in Nicholas’s direction. “Tell me one thing you’ve done to secure your future happiness with Amelia Bishop.”
“That’s not…” Nicholas couldn’t think of anything, because he wasn’t supposed to be securing anything with Amelia. “Our future happiness will be as friends.”
“You’re in love with her.”
He very much was, and always had been. “But she doesn’t love me.”
“You wrote her every day we were in France.” Jasper threw his hands in the air. “You look like you’re about to tear her clothes off every time you see her.”
“That is decidedly none of your concern.”
Jasper arched an eyebrow. “Wakefield, what did you say to me when we first met?”
“Get out of my train car, you drunken nuisance.”
“After that.”
Nicholas sighed. “I wish there was more to my life than being a dutiful son.”
“That’s right, and I swore to make sure you live a life full of misbehavior—”
“At the time you said adventure.”
“—and die exhausted, well pleased with the memories you had collected.”
“But that was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I was called back home. Before my father became ill.”
Jasper squared his shoulders, full of affront. “Do you think a duke’s promise is so lightly discarded?”
“You’re not a duke yet.”
“And won’t be for many years to come, God willing, but it will happen and I’ll still have promised.” Jasper stood up, pacing and riffling through Nicholas’s belongings. The pocket watch Philip had given Nicholas when he finished at Oxford landed with a clatter. “Well pleased, I said, and you are obviously not pleased. You’re more dismally dutiful than ever.”
“My family needs me.”
“Only so they can avoid inconveniencing your brother.”
It was pointless to try to explain. Jasper was a creature devoted to seeking his own pleasure. In Jas’s mind, the title existed to serve the holder, not the other way around.
“We have to stay out of it, Jas.”
Jasper’s eyebrows leaped upward as a pair. “We don’t have to anything. I make my own decisions.”
“Fine, but I—”
“Amelia needed you tonight and you did nothing,” Jasper interrupted. “The man she is promised to spend the rest of her life with threw her to wolves. Hell, he invited the wolves. Hide your feelings behind friendship if you insist, but a friend would have stood up for her. A friend did.”
The words sank into Nicholas and settled like rocks in the pit of his stomach. Jasper had only known Amelia for a few days, and he had come to her aid. In typical, dramatic Jasper fashion, but he’d acted. Nick had wanted to act. It had been his first instinct, and he’d intended to follow it through. He shouldn’t have let himself be dissuaded. Jasper was right. He’d been a coward.
After everything he’d learned being away, was he truly allowing himself to settle back into old behavior? Worse behavior, even. He’d never let his parents stop him from being a true friend to Amelia before.
“You’re right,” Nicholas admitted.
“Obviously.”
“But what do I do? How do I make it up to her?”
“First,” Jasper announced, in jolly spirits again now that he was getting what he wanted, “we find out how things stand. A great deal hinges on the current status of her engagement. Once we know, we can make a plan.”
The hope that crackled to life inside him made him wonder why he’d waited this long.
The candles burned low as Amelia stared into space with the end of the pen between her teeth. Her writing desk was covered in wax and she wasn’t much further than she had been in Julia’s room. She was trying to organize her thoughts onto paper, but the problem in front of her was daunting. Masterminding was Julia’s bailiwick. Amelia’s talents leaned more toward assisting.
Something cracked against the window. Amelia looked up. A second crack sounded. What the devil? A rock. Someone was throwing rocks at her bedroom window.
There was only one person it could be.
Barely illuminated by the light coming from the ground floor windows, Nicholas stood on the side of the house with a handful of stones. Amelia pushed the window up in its casement—quietly. It wouldn’t do to have anyone coming to investigate.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, shivering. She wrapped her arms around herself to block the cold from cutting through her nightgown. How could he stand to be out there at this hour?
“I need to talk to you,” he whispered back. “May I come up?”
Could he come up? Of course not. It was…well, fair play after what she’d done the other day, but that was beside the point. “It’s very late.”
“It’s important.”
Nicholas might be able to help with her present difficulty. She was at her wits’ end. Whispering out into the darkness while they both froze to death was less than ideal. Amelia inspected the wall outside her bedroom. There was no way he would manage to climb the tightly fitted bricks without breaking his neck. “Use the back stairs.”
Nick disappeared around the corner of the house. Grabbing a wrapper, Amelia tiptoed to her bedroom door and peeked out. So far so good. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she didn’t have to pass Julia’s room on her way to the back stairs.
At the end of the corridor, she slowly pushed the servant’s door inward. Nothing. No sound, no Nicholas. Amelia’s heartbeat raced. No one had sounded any kind of alarm, so he hadn’t been discovered. Unless he had, and he was trying to talk his way out of it. Would Mrs. Polk keep his secret if she came across him below-stairs? She wouldn’t let him come up, that much Amelia was certain of. How long should she wait?
Muffled scuffing sounds came from the steps just below where Amelia was waiting. “Ni—”
The new maid’s head came around the corner.
“—ora. Haven’t you gone to bed yet?”
“Just finishing cleaning up the party. Did you need something, my lady?”
“No, no. Just thought I heard something. Must have been the wind.”
Nora mumbled something Amelia didn’t catch as she was closing the door. She leaned against the wall. She would count to one hundred. If it took Nick longer than that, that was too bad. Her nerves couldn’t take it.
One. Two. Three. …Thirty-four. Thirty-five. Thirty-six. Was that a creak? She didn’t dare open the door to check. If it was Nora again, she’d have a devil of a time explaining herself.
The door slid inward a crack. “Mia?”
“Nick.” Amelia let out a huge sigh of relief—and sucked it back in. They still had to make it back to her room. Oh God. What if her mother—what if her father came down the hall? “Hurry. And be quiet!”
“I know how to sneak.”
“Shh!”
They were halfway back to her room when the latch on Julia’s door at the far end of the hall clicked. It was too much. Amelia abandoned stealth and ran for it. Nicholas was right behind her. They darted inside and Amelia locked the door behind them. She tried to listen for her sister coming after them, but she couldn’t hear over her own labored breathing.
“She didn’t see us.”
Amelia wasn’t prepared to take his word for it. She waited a little longer, but there was no inquiring knock on her door. “Let’s never go through that again.”
“I’ve gone through that every time you’ve climbed into my room.”
“In the daylight! It’s much less illicit during the day.”
“I beg to differ,” Nicholas said. “I’ve lost entire years off my life with the sun still high in the sky. If either of our parents discovered us—being discovered by your father at our age—”
“Don’t.” Amelia pressed a hand to her chest to try to slow down her heart. “Don’t even think it. We still have to get you back out.”
Nick groaned.
Amelia couldn’t agree more. Worried that her knees would buckle any minute, she sat on the end of her bed. She motioned for Nick to take the chair that was still pulled out at her desk. “So, what was so important it couldn’t wait for morning?”
“Are you still engaged to Montrose?”
Even hearing his name made her furious. “Yes.”
“Oh.” Nick’s face fell.
“But I’m not going to marry him.”
“What?”
“I tried to break it off, but he won’t let me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
It truly didn’t. In a rational world she would have declared the engagement over, and that would have been that. But there was nothing rational about the situation she found herself in. Amelia stood up. Anger drove away her nerves and made pacing preferable. “He won’t accept my termination of our engagement. He threatened to sue my father for breach of contract.”
“That’s—”
“Villainous, but!” Amelia announced. “I have a plan. I’m going to make myself thoroughly undesirable so that he throws me over.”
“Amelia.”
“It’s brilliant,” she declared.
“It’s certainly something,” Nick said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “What’s your first move?”
“That’s the part I need your help with.” Amelia flashed him her biggest, most charming grin. “Also, all the other moves.”
“So the whole plan.”
“Basically.”
Amelia wasn’t marrying Montrose. There was still hope. He could weather all manner of nonsense—making herself undesirable? Nick doubted that was even possible. But it would all be all right. She wasn’t going to marry Montrose.
“Mia, if you’re not—”
“I can’t believe how blind I was. He’s absolutely beastly and I had no idea.”
“I need to tell you—”
“I told Julia and she sided with him! Can you believe that?” She was still pacing, nightgown billowing behind her as she strode back and forth. “Well, the joke is on her. I’m never getting married, so she can find her own adventures. I’m not letting her live through mine anymore.”
Never getting married? “You don’t mean that.”
“I absolutely do.”
Don’t panic. “You might feel that way right now, but eventually—”
“No. Never. Look at how badly I did this time around. Who’s to say I won’t be completely deceived again?” She sat on the bed in a frustrated puff of linen. “Not that there will be a next time, but if there was—it’s clear I am a terrible judge of character.”
This was a train of thought Nicholas could work with. “I certainly agree that you shouldn’t get engaged to someone you just met. Or even someone you haven’t known for quite some time.”
Amelia was shaking her head. “I don’t think you can ever truly know someone. I thought I knew my mother, and look what she’s turned into in all this engagement nonsense.”
He needed a compelling argument, but none came to mind. Fortunately, Nicholas didn’t need all the answers right away. He could hang onto his new hope. It was enough that she didn’t want to marry Montrose. Once she was free, he could spend every day convincing her they were right for each other. He could spend the rest of their lives convincing her, if he had his way. For now, all they had to do was get rid of Montrose.
“So this plan.”
“I need to make myself thoroughly undesirable.” Amelia popped up again and resumed her pacing. “It should be fairly simple.”
It would be impossible, but it wasn’t the right time for Nick to tell her that. “Do you know what he values?”
“Ruining my life,” she grumbled.
Nick laughed. “Beyond that.”
She sighed. “I have no idea what he values, other than vexing me and idolizing his beloved Lily. How can I be engaged to a man I know so little about?”
Lily. Lily? Nicholas wracked his brain. “Lily Valentine? She was engaged to Montrose, wasn’t she?”
“He adored her. She might as well have walked on water.” Amelia spun, halting her pacing. “Did you know her?”
It didn’t happen often, but every once in a while Amelia would get like this—bursting with energy, pacing and chattering away. Nick loved being near her in these moments. All the time, really, but especially these moments. It was like holding a comet. It was made all the better because he knew he was one of an extremely select group of people who got to see her this way.
“Nick?”
Right. Lily Valentine. “No, not well, but I might know someone who did. Her cousin and Philip are members of the same club in London.”
Amelia lit up like a sunrise. “Could you ask him about her? If I could become the opposite of Lily, Montrose would despise me for certain.”
“I’d need to go to London.” He’d promised his mother he would stay at Wakefield Manor.
“That’s perfect!” Amelia threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “As Embry’s fiancé, I’m expected to suffer through the season. We can endure it together!”
Nick closed his eyes. He was all too aware of how few layers Amelia was wearing. In the name of solving her crisis, he’d managed to block out the way the light from the fireplace silhouetted her legs each time she changed the direction of her pacing, but having her practically in his lap was too much.
“We should do something for you, too.”
He could think of a few things.
“While we’re in London, you should apply to the Inns of Court!” Amelia grabbed his face with his hands, forcing him to look at her. “You said you wanted to be a barrister. Let’s do it. Let’s both take control of our lives. While we can both support each other. If you don’t do it now, you never will.”
His parents were going to disown him, but there was nothing he could do about it. That fact kept proving itself over and over, every day he spent near Amelia. Nicholas couldn’t say no to her any more than he could stop the earth from turning. Not when her brown eyes were sparkling and she smiled at him like that. He was utterly lost. “All right. Let’s go to London.”
When the knock sounded on her bedroom door moments after Nicholas disappeared into the servant’s corridor, Amelia was certain he’d been caught.
“Who is it?” She cringed. She never said that. Pull yourself together.
“It’s me,” her father said from the other side of the door.
Amelia almost fainted. After fighting down the urge to hide, she took a calming breath and opened the door. “Papa? What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I visit my own daughter?”
Smaller smile. The smile was too big. He’ll know! “It’s very late.”
“Some discussions are best held during the witching hour.”
Oh no. “I’m quite tired.”
He frowned at her, stepping inside. “Mia. Tell me what happened.”
This was it. This was where she got accused of every wicked thing she’d thought about doing with Nicholas lately. Touching his face. Feeling the heat of his legs through the thin fabric of her nightgown. This was God punishing her for impure thoughts. She hadn’t even gotten to do any of the truly shameful things she’d thought of. “Nothing. Nothing happened!”
“You were crying. Lord Bellamy struck your betrothed. That’s not nothing.”
Embry! He wanted to know what happened with Embry. Her knees actually did buckle this time—from relief. She caught the edge of the door to keep herself upright. He hadn’t found Nick sneaking down the back stairs, but she couldn’t tell him about what happened at the party, either. What if he ran off and confronted Embry?
Much as Amelia hated to admit it, taking care of difficult situations was not Papa’s specialty. He had an excellent eye for investments, but when it came to the rest of life he often found himself adrift. What if there was nothing he could do and he had to sit by in full knowledge and watch his daughter be given into the hands of a villainous cad? It would kill him. “We had a disagreement. It was nothing.”
“You called off your engagement party.”
“I overreacted.”
Lord Bishop sat down next to her on the bed. “Is this about Julia, Mia?”
Amelia held her tongue. Let him draw whatever conclusions he liked, as long as he didn’t find out the truth.
“I know you’re used to doing everything with your sister, but you’re setting off on your own now. You can’t be cruel with Montrose’s emotions just because you’re scared of living outside each other’s pockets.”
The sense of betrayal from earlier bubbled up. “Julia’s not at all afraid of living without me. She’s more than happy to see me go.”
“I’m certain that’s not true.”
“I’m certain it is. She doesn’t even care that he—” Sense shut her mouth before she could stick her foot into it.
“Mia.” He tipped her chin up like he used to do when she was small. “Don’t fight with your sister. She loves you and she’s terrified to lose you.”
You mean she’s terrified she won’t be able to live vicariously through me if I call off the engagement. Amelia stared at the carpet. How could she suddenly have so many secrets? Yesterday, she’d had none.
“I think the distance might do you two some good.”
Et tu, Papa? But it suited the plan she and Nick had come up with to agree with him. “I think maybe you’re right.”
Lord Bishop sighed. “When we came back from India and realized Julia’s spine couldn’t be mended… I’m not entirely sure we’ve been fair to you. You deserve to be thought of first by someone.”
“I never needed—”
“I wish we’d done better, but Montrose can give you that. He adores you. It’s obvious he doesn’t see anyone else when you walk into a room. I want that for you.”
Amelia wanted it, too. Just not with Embry. She hated not being honest with her father. “Papa, I —”
“We’re so proud of you. I know you’re frightened of leaving us. Of leaving Julia. But we’re so proud of the match you’ve made. I can’t remember being this happy in a long time.”
Her father was proud of her. Amelia tried to remember if he’d ever said it before.
He’d been proud of Julia. Proud when she took her first steps without help. Proud the first time she beat him at chess. Proud of her courage after each and every painful surgery that failed to yield improvements. If he’d been proud of Amelia, it had never been out loud. Her father loved her, but she hadn’t realized before now how much she needed his approval.
“Thank you, Papa.”
What else could she say?
There was light showing under the door of the drawing room when Nicholas crept back in to Wakefield Manor. It was somewhat embarrassing sneaking in at his age. More embarrassing still because for once he’d been doing something he actually ought to be ashamed of. He’d spent the evening in Amelia’s bedroom. The rush of it would keep him up all night.
He found Lady Wakefield in the library alone, staring into the fire that had drawn his notice. “Mother? Is something wrong?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep.” She frowned at him. “Are you just getting in?”
Nicholas sat down across from her. Now was as good a time as any. He’d made his decision—he was committed to Amelia. If he could continue to help his family he would, but if he had to choose, he was choosing her. Even if that meant offering her nothing but himself. He had to do something, for once. “I need to go to London.”
“Will you be gone long?” she asked, not really hearing him.
“I need to tell Philip.”
That certainly claimed her attention. “You can’t.”
Nick had come to another decision on the walk back from Amelia’s. He was tired of keeping things from people. His feelings for Amelia. His father’s illness. If he’d been honest with Amelia from the beginning, instead of pretending to fancy green-eyed dairy maids, maybe this whole mess could have been avoided. He didn’t want to look back years from now and wish he’d told his brother sooner. “Philip deserves to know.”
“But his work—”
“I’m not giving up the job, but I think he deserves to know. I can run everything from London. Father does it every season. But it’s not right not to involve Philip.” Nicholas reached out for his mother’s hand. “He deserves better than to be blindsided by this.”
“When will you go?” Her mouth was tight. She didn’t approve, but she wouldn’t stop him.
“Tomorrow. I think it’s best to tell him as soon as possible.”
Lady Wakefield shook her head, resting her face in her hand. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.”
“Everything will be all right.”
“And Arthur? Will he be all right?” She shook her head again. “No, everything will not be all right. It will never be all right again.”
“Mother.”
“Go. Tell your brother and take that friend of yours with you. I don’t care anymore.”
Nicholas lifted his hand—to do what? To say what? He couldn’t give her husband back. Couldn’t bring his father back. There was nothing he could do that would ease the rigid line of her shoulders or stop her from staring blindly into the fire. If they’d had a different relationship in the past perhaps he could have, but this was what they had.
He stood up to leave. “Good night, Mother.”
She didn’t say anything at all.
Nick went to the study and left a note for Mr. Fletcher before going upstairs to Jasper’s room. He didn’t bother knocking.
“Is that the unmannered urgency of a man bursting with good news?” Jasper asked.
Possibly. Hopefully. “Pack your bags. We’re going to London first thing.”
When Amelia told her parents she wanted to go to London early, they practically tripped over themselves ordering the carriage. They believed she was finally embracing her new role as a countess. Amelia felt awful lying to them, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Julia wasn’t as easy to fool. She stopped Amelia in the hall outside of the dining room after breakfast.
“What is going on, Amelia?”
“Nothing is going on.”
“Rubbish.”
Amelia took a deep breath and recited what she and Nicholas had come up with. “I want to immerse myself in the season.”
Julia stared at her. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
Julia’s scrutiny almost caused Amelia to buckle, but she focused on her anger. Julia had betrayed her. Amelia didn’t owe her the truth. She stared at the standing clock in the hallway and recited, “As the future Countess of Montrose, it’s important that I socialize and dispel the rumors from the engagement party.”
“You hate social maneuvering. Who are you pretending to be right now?”
God, she was failing this miserably. “I’m sorry. There’s a great deal to do before I leave. I have to go.”
Amelia fled, desperate to get away before her sister read everything from her face. It was hard enough lying to her parents; she didn’t have the heart to get into another argument with Julia. She couldn’t be honest with Julia, so the easiest thing was to avoid her, even if it hurt to do it.
When she returned to her own room, two notes were waiting for her. The first note, and accompanying arrangement of deep pink roses and honeysuckle, was from Embry.
Dearest Amelia,
Please accept these flowers as a sign of my admiration, and proof that I harbor no resentment regarding our discussion. Your sweet and innocent nature allowed you to be led astray, and I cannot fault you for such admirable qualities, vulnerable though they might make you to the less scrupulous. I look forward to cherishing and protecting your generous heart as your husband.
Yrs truly,
Embry
Amelia glared at the page. He might not harbor any resentment, but she certainly did. Crumpling it, she moved on to the next note.
Mia,
I’ve arranged what I can here, so I am going ahead to London. If you have need of me, reach me at Philip’s house in town.
Chin up,
N.
Just like that, her spine straightened. She had a plan and an ally. She wasn’t alone. Everything would be all right. All she had to do was stay focused and everything would come out all right in the end. Just stay focused. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head.
“Just because you walk faster doesn’t mean you can run from me.” Julia’s breath was labored as she stood in the doorway. “If I’d hurt myself chasing after you, you’d be feeling dreadfully sorry right now.”
“Would I?” She absolutely would, but damn it, it was Amelia’s turn to be angry. Just this once, she would feel the way she felt and not worry about how it might affect Julia.
“Don’t be like this, Mia. I know you think I’m being disloyal, but Lord Montrose is—”
“Lord Montrose is what?” Lady Bishop asked, coming up behind her daughter in the doorway. “Are we gossiping? Extolling the virtues of Amelia’s brilliant match?”
“Not quite,” Julia said, locking eyes with Amelia.
“Don’t be jealous,” Lady Bishop admonished. “It puts ugly lines on your face.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Julia’s tone was like iron striking iron.
Lady Bishop looked between her daughters. “What’s the matter? What’s going on with you two?”
Julia pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Nothing serious. Everything is fine. It’ll sort itself out.”
“Good, then. Anyhow, I’ve loads of packing to do!” Oblivious, Lady Bishop flitted off down the hallway.
Amelia waited until she was certain their mother was out of earshot. “Just to be clear, it will not sort itself out. Everything is not fine, and I do not forgive you. You’re my sister. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Mia.”
“I needed you, but I don’t anymore. So please get out of my room.”