of disappointment, her body already impatient for his next caress, his next touch, his next scorching kiss. Today would indeed be a very long day, her mind already on the homecoming. Her only solace was that she’d be spending it in Thomas’s company.
An hour and a half later, Amelia, Thomas, and Catherine boarded the black-lacquered brougham. The weather was ideal for their trip. Snow, fluffy and light, lazily circled the air before settling on graveled roads and dormant foliage in a white blanket. Catherine fairly bounced onto the seat, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. Peering out the window, she exclaimed, “The snow is so pretty.”
Thomas took the seat across from them, his gaze flitting to Catherine’s pink-cheeked face before returning a steady regard to her. Amelia had to look away. It was all too much. The wanting, the yearning, and not being able to have him at that very moment.
She needed a distraction. “Did your sister not want to come as well?” She thought all girls their age lived for things like shopping, baubles, and whatnot.
Catherine shoved her hands deeper into the muffs, yanking her gaze from a terrain of naked trees with snow-laden branches. Her mouth formed a pout. “She said she’d rather finish her book. But I know it’s because Alex is here. Everyone knows it. She does it every time.”
Thomas smiled dryly. “And you find this vexing?”
“I think it’s terribly silly is all. Alex will never pay her any mind. Anyway, he’s much too old for her.” With her brows furrowed and her mouth set in a pink line, she resembled a displeased golden-haired Dresden doll.
Amelia could easily see how a young girl like Charlotte could fall for the raven-haired lord. He was dangerous enough to the women of London as the second son, Lord help them all if he had been born heir to the dukedom.
“Not that I am encouraging her, but I once thought the same about Missy and Rutherford. Now look at them. She set her sights on him when she was but ten years of age.” Thomas reposed back in the velvet-cushioned seat, his legs splayed negligently, amusement lighting his eyes.
Was that what explained their easy familiarity, the connection between the two a stranger could pick up within seconds of observing them together? A pang of envy shot through her. She couldn’t tear her gaze from Thomas, or he from her.
“I just think it’s silly,” Catherine mumbled, turning back to the window. “Oh!” she cried after a minute pause. “Notice how pretty the street looks.”
Amelia reluctantly directed her attention to the scene beyond the window. The carriage was rumbling down a paved road leading to the main street. Not far in the distance, storefronts lined the street, the lampposts gaily decorated with miniature wreaths and shiny red bows, making for the quintessential Christmas tableau.
They spent the next several hours traipsing through almost every shop on Peascod Street. Thomas was solicitous in his attendance, escorting her about like a suitor on his best behavior. That is, save a smoldering glance and the lingering touch here and there that had her already-heightened senses in constant flux. Catherine appeared quite oblivious to it all, chattering on and exclaiming over every pretty trinket and ribbon she saw.
Amelia rarely purchased—or had need to purchase—presents for Christmas. Her father was generous with the servants, ensuring they were amply rewarded in their Christmas boxes. One year, when she was fourteen, she’d taken her allowance and bought a present for Mrs. Smith, their housekeeper, and Reese, their butler, because they had always been so kind to her. They’d both since retired. In respect to her, the marquess treated the day like any other. There were, of course, the token gifts for her bought by whichever governess was currently employed.
This would be the first Christmas since her mother’s death that she’d spend with a family. A real family. The thought warmed her insides, flooding her with a sense of joy. Today she would purchase gifts for everyone.
A quiet word to Thomas and he was quickly whisking Catherine off to the nearest pastry shop. She’d told him she needed privacy to select Catherine’s gift, which she did. But she also took that time to find something for him.
Amelia soon discovered finding something fitting for her lover was much more difficult than shopping for the others, as she desperately wanted him to like it. Then she spotted a miniature of a ship. Carved from a rich mahogany wood, it was intricately detailed and