“No, my lord, this is my maid, Hélène, and my father’s manservant, Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith acted as our escort, but he will be returning home posthaste.”
Son and mother greeted the servants amiably. Hélène and George responded with an exaggerated curtsey and a deep bow.
“Mother, why don’t you have someone show Lady Amelia’s maid to her chambers and have one of the footmen show Mr. Smith where he can refresh himself before he departs. I need to speak to Lady Amelia about some important matters pertaining to her father.”
While Amelia’s stomach recoiled at his words, the viscountess was already going about the business of acceding to her son’s wishes.
“Come, we will go to the study.” With that, he started down the hall as if expecting she trot obediently along beside him. Amelia followed but at a sedate walk not a trot, stubbornly hanging back a distance.
As they traversed down the wide corridor, with nowhere else to focus her attention but at the back of his form, Amelia inspected her surroundings. Large framed oil portraits dominated the silken walls. On the opposite wall hung several glass topiary pieces and elaborate brass sconces. She found the décor elegant and understated, a fine representation of the viscountess herself.
Several years after her mother had died, her father had had Fountain Crest done over from top to bottom. All vestiges of her mother had been carted off and discarded much like the dated furniture and the heavy window coverings.
Lord Armstrong came to a stop in front of the double doors of what could only be the study. With a sweep of his hand and an inclination of his head, he said, “After you.”
Amelia swallowed and thrust thoughts of her mother from her mind. She preceded him into a room as wide as it was long.
“Please, do make yourself comfortable,” he said, striding across the room, giving a pointed look at several of the armchairs in front of the oversized mahogany desk.
“After sitting nearly two days straight I would rather stand.” Oftentimes sitting left one at a disadvantage, and with every passing minute, Amelia grew ever more certain that in dealing with Thomas Armstrong she’d require more than just her wits about her.
Thomas suppressed a smile. He’d expected nothing less than a refusal, but it was always good to test the boundaries.
“Then I hope you won’t mind if I do. Unlike you, I’m on my feet much of the day.” He took a seat behind his desk.
She watched him, her blue eyes the cold of the Russian tundra.
Far too many women tended to prattle on ad nauseum. But this one was an altogether different matter. Thomas continued. “I hope you’ll find your accommodations adequate.”
“Your concern for my comfort is—is touching, however, I assure you it is most unwarranted.”
Well, she certainly hadn’t lost her talent for biting sarcasm, Thomas mused. Perhaps she would prove to be as amusing as she was infuriating.
“I thought this would be a fine time to work out the details of your duties, which I might add have met with your father’s stamp of approval.”
“I don’t doubt that whatsoever,” she muttered under her breath. Thomas caught every word.
“Tell me, my lord, you say ‘work out the details.’ I assumed my punishment had already been set in stone. Am I to have a say in the matter?”
He let out a mild chuckle. Such a refreshing blend of churlish gentility. “Touché. I guess I should have said we need to discuss my expectations of you. But before we get into that, I would like for us to put our past differences aside. To that end, I hope you will address me as Thomas, or Armstrong if you prefer. Under the circumstances, I think it would be silly for us to stand on ceremony. By the same token, I’m sure you’ll permit me to address you as Amelia.”
“I can hardly prevent you from addressing me however you please, but under the circumstances, I prefer to keep my contact with you very much on ceremony,” she said coolly.
Thomas hoped she strained her neck from having her chin tipped so high. “I may address you as I please? Then I should choose something fitting, wouldn’t you agree?”
He relished the flash of anger that sparked in her eyes, darkened to a blue so deep he could barely make out the pupils.
“Several names do come to mind. However, I had best forgo those and settle with one equally suitable … Princess.”
She went ominously still and branded him with a look