What a Spinster Wants - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,74
hiccupped in a whimper. “I don’t know why I haven’t heard from him, but I want to believe the best! I must. I can’t let him go, Edith, and I just…” Her words dissolved in a mass of tears, her face suddenly burying against Edith’s shoulder.
“Oh, Amelia…” Edith sighed, holding her closer. “I didna mean for this retreat into the country to be painful for ye. Would ye like to return to London?”
Amelia shook her head. “No.” She sniffled and pulled back, eyes red and watering. “No, we need to stay. This is good for you.” She dabbed at her cheeks with her sleeve and sighed. “But I cannot face the ladies this afternoon. I’m likely to burst into tears. Will you make my excuses?”
Edith rubbed her arms once more. “Of course, lass. Take your rest. I’ll come to fetch ye before supper.”
Nodding, Amelia managed a weak smile and moved to sit in one of the chairs near the fire. “And if you could find a way to trip Adaline somehow, I would not complain.”
The image made Edith chuckle and nod. “I’ll do my best, lass.” With a wave, she left their sitting room, her smile and amusement disappearing the moment the door was closed.
How dare Miss Chesney say such things to Amelia! How dare she suggest Amelia go against any understanding she might have had for the sake of convenience and availability! There was no excuse for such behavior. Edith was very much afraid that Miss Chesney was aware of Amelia’s attachment and was using it to cause pain.
Moments like these were when Edith wished she were far less proper and less well-behaved.
“That’s a terrible expression before tea,” Miranda stated without hesitation as she exited her rooms and joined Edith in the corridor.
“The feelings beneath it are far worse,” Edith assured her.
“Do tell, my dear.” Quickly, Edith related the basics of the situation, and Miranda’s face hardened at hearing it. “I see,” Miranda said simply once the telling was done. “Well, I am not entirely sure how I feel about Adaline Chesney having any sense of Amelia’s tendre over Andrews, but this is…”
“Andrews?” Edith interrupted in shock, her pace faltering. “Edmund is Mr. Andrews?”
Miranda had the maddening ability to look completely unruffled by Edith’s outburst. “Of course. Did you not know? Those two have been circling each other for ages.”
The image of the tall, dark, almost aloof man appeared in Edith’s mind, and she could not, for the life of her, see what Miranda was describing. But she had no reason to doubt the statement, especially since Miranda Sterling always seemed to know the truth of any given situation at any given time.
One could always trust what Miranda was saying.
“Amelia and Mr. Andrews,” Edith mused aloud as the pair of them continued down to tea. “What a thought!”
“They will have beautiful children,” Miranda said on a pleased sigh. “Provided Andrews reappears in the world.”
Edith smiled ever so slightly. “I suppose I must hate him less for abandoning Amelia, now that I know who he is.”
Miranda smiled back, nodding. “Indeed. One could never hate Andrews.”
They neared the drawing room, and Miranda took Edith’s arm, pulling her to a stop just outside of it.
She gave Edith a very thorough look. “The same need not be said for Adaline Chesney.”
“It’s no’ me she’s injured,” Edith reminded her.
The older woman’s expression did not change. “The girl is a spiteful cat who would trod on a child if it would improve her station. She will try to injure you, as you are beautiful, amiable, and marriageable. You do not have to take it with good graces.”
Edith’s brows rose in surprise as a smile crossed her lips. “Are you telling me to behave badly, Miranda?”
“I am telling you to stand for yourself, my love,” Miranda corrected, now moving them both forward into the room. “The good Lord knows you deserve to.”
Edith swallowed and patted her friend’s hand as they moved to the others, the tea service just arriving.
“The gentlemen are to take tea with the ladies, are they?” Miranda chirped with some delight, though the note of surprise was evident. She smiled at the gentlemen seated around tables or standing nearby. “How marvelously forward-thinking of us.”
“They will be playing at cards, Mrs. Sterling,” Catherine Tillman said in the clipped tone Edith had grown accustomed to. “We are not so far removed from Society as to forget our places.”
Miranda gave the young woman a surprised look as she sat gracefully on the divan beside Janet Sterling.