The Lost Duke of Wyndham Page 0,97

had many years to lodge a complaint."

"Amelia - "

"I have no one to blame but myself."

"That's not true."

Amelia finally opened her eyes. One of them, at least. "You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. I would," Grace admitted, because it was true. "But as it happens, I am telling the truth. It isn't your fault. It's not anyone's fault, really." She took a breath. Let it out. "I wish it were. It would be so much easier that way."

"To have someone to blame?"

"Yes."

And then Amelia whispered, "I don't want to marry him."

"Thomas?" Grace asked. Amelia had spent so long as his fiancee, and they did not seem to have any great affection for one another.

Amelia looked at her curiously. "No. Mr. Audley."

"Really?"

"You sound so shocked."

"No, of course not," Grace said hurriedly. What was she to say to Amelia - that she was so desperately in love with him herself that she could not imagine anyone not wanting him? "It's just that he's so handsome," she improvised.

Amelia gave a little shrug. "I suppose."

She supposed? Hadn't she ever seen him smile?

But then Amelia said, "Don't you find him a little too charming?"

"No." Grace immediately looked down at her hands, because her no had come out in not at all the tone of voice she'd intended. And indeed, Amelia must have heard it, too, because her next words were -

"Grace Eversleigh, do you fancy Mr. Audley?"

Grace stammered and stumbled, and managed a rather croaky, "I - " before Amelia cut in with -

"You do."

"It does not signify," Grace said, because what was she supposed to say? To Amelia, who might or might not be engaged to marry him.

"Of course it signifies. Does he fancy you?"

Grace wanted to melt into the seat.

"No," Amelia said, sounding highly amused. "Don't answer. I can see from your face that he does. Well.

I certainly shall not marry him now."

Grace swallowed. Her throat tasted bitter. "You should not refuse him on my account."

"What did you just say?"

"I can't marry him if he's the duke."

"Why not?"

Grace tried to smile, because really, it was sweet of Amelia to ignore the difference in their positions. But she could not quite manage it. "If he is the duke, he will need to marry someone suitable. Of your rank."

"Oh, don't be silly," Amelia scoffed. "It's not as if you grew up in an orphanage."

"There will be scandal enough. He must not add to it with a sensational marriage."

"An actress would be sensational. You will merely be a week's worth of gossip."

It would be more than that, but Grace saw no point in arguing further. But then Amelia said -

"I do not know Mr. Audley's mind, or his intentions, but if he is prepared to dare everything for love, then you should be, too."

Grace looked at her. How was it that Amelia suddenly looked so very wise? When had that happened?

When had she stopped being Elizabeth's little sister and become...herself?

Amelia reached out and squeezed her hand. "Be a woman of courage, Grace." She smiled then, murmuring something to herself as she turned and looked out the window.

Grace stared straight ahead, thinking...wondering...was Amelia right? Or was it just that she had never faced hardship? It was easy to talk about being courageous when one had never come face-to-face with desperation.

What would happen if a woman of her background married a duke? Thomas's mother had not been an aristocrat, but when she married his father, he was only third in line to inherit, and no one had expected her to become a duchess. By all accounts, she had been dreadfully unhappy. Miserable, even.

But Thomas's parents had not loved each other. They had not even liked each other, from what Grace had heard.

But she loved Jack.

And he loved her.

Still, it would all be so much simpler if he turned out not to be the legitimate son of John Cavendish.

And then, out of nowhere, Amelia whispered, "We could blame the dowager." As Grace turned to her in confusion, Amelia clarified, "For this. You said it would be easier if we had someone to blame."

Grace looked over at the dowager, who was seated across from Amelia. She was snoring softly, and her head was perched at what had to be an uncomfortable angle. It was remarkable, but even in repose her mouth was pinched and unpleasant.

"It's certainly more her fault than anyone else's," Amelia added, but Grace noted that she tossed a nervous glance at the dowager as she spoke.

Grace nodded, murmuring, "I cannot disagree with that."

Amelia stared