Mr. Cavendish, I Presume

Before she could ask more, Thomas appeared in the doorway, looking decidedly more like himself than the last time she’d seen him.

“Amelia,” he said, striding toward her.

“Your grace,” she replied.

“How lovely to see you. I see that you have met our guest.”

“Yes,” she said. “Mr. Audley is quite diverting.”

Thomas glanced over at the other gentleman, not, Amelia noted, with particular affection. “Quite.”

There was an ominous silence, and then Amelia said, “I came to see Grace.”

“Yes, of course,” Thomas murmured. It was, after all, the ruse they’d concocted.

“Alas,” Mr. Audley said, “I found her first.”

Thomas gave him a look that would have quelled any man of Amelia’s acquaintance, but Mr. Audley only smirked.

“I found him, actually,” she put in. “I saw him in the hall. I thought he was you.”

“Astounding, isn’t it?” Mr. Audley murmured. He turned to Amelia. “We are nothing alike.”

Amelia looked to Thomas.

“No,” he said brusquely, “we are not.”

“What do you think, Miss Eversleigh?” Mr. Audley asked.

Amelia turned toward the doorway. She had not realized that Grace had returned.

Mr. Audley rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving Grace. “Do the duke and I share any traits?”

At first Grace seemed not to know how to answer. “I’m afraid I do not know you well enough to be an accurate judge,” she finally replied.

Mr. Audley smiled, and Amelia got the sense that they were sharing a moment she did not understand. “Well said, Miss Eversleigh,” he said. “May I infer, then, that you know the duke quite well?”

“I have worked for his grandmother for five years,” Grace said, her bearing stiff and formal. “During that time I have been fortunate enough to learn something of his character.”

“Lady Amelia,” Thomas cut in, “may I escort you home?”

“Of course,” Amelia agreed, rather looking forward to the journey. She had not been expecting his company. It was a most delightful change of plans.

“So soon?” Mr. Audley murmured.

“My family will be expecting me,” Amelia said.

“We will leave right now, then,” Thomas said, offering her his arm. Amelia took it and stood.

“Er, your grace!”

They turned toward Grace, who was still standing near the doorway. She looked rather agitated. “If I might have a word with you,” she said haltingly, “before you, er, depart. Please.”

Thomas excused himself and followed Grace into the hall. They were still visible from the drawing room, although it was difficult-indeed impossible-to glean their conversation.

“Whatever can they be discussing?” Mr. Audley said, and she could tell from his tone that he knew exactly what they were discussing, and that he knew she did not know, and that he absolutely knew that raising the question would irritate her mightily.

“I am sure I have no idea,” she bit off.

“Nor I,” he said, breezy as always.

And then they heard: “Ireland!”

This was Thomas, his voice most uncharacteristically loud. Amelia would like to have known what was uttered next, but Thomas took Grace’s arm and moved them both to the side, where they were completely out of view. And, apparently, out of earshot as well.

“We have our answer,” Mr. Audley murmured.

“He can’t be upset that his grandmother is leaving the country,” Amelia said. “I would think he’d be planning a celebration.”

“I rather think Miss Eversleigh has informed him that his grandmother intends that he accompany her.”

“To Ireland?” Amelia drew back with surprise. “Oh, you must be mistaken.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. I am but a newcomer here.”

“Aside from the fact that I cannot imagine why the dowager would wish to go to Ireland-not,” she hastened to add, as she recalled that this was his birthplace, “that I wouldn’t like to see your beautiful country, but it does not seem in character for the dowager, whom I have heard speak disparagingly of Northumberland, the Lake District, and indeed, all of Scotland.” She paused, trying to imagine the dowager enjoying the rigors of travel. “Ireland seems a bit of a stretch for her.”

He nodded graciously.

“But really, it makes no sense that she would wish for Wyndham to accompany her. They do not care for each other’s company.”

“How politely said, Lady Amelia. Does anyone care for their company?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. This was an even clearer declaration that he disliked Thomas. And said in his own house! It was really remarkably impolite.

And curious.

Just then, Thomas strode back into the room. “Amelia,” he said rather briskly, “I am afraid I will not be able to see you home. I do apologize.”

“Of course,” she replied, shooting a look at Mr. Audley, although why she would do so, she wasn’t quite sure.

“I shall make every arrangement for your comfort. Perhaps you would like to select a book from the library?”

“Can you read in a coach?” Mr. Audley queried.

“Can you not?” Amelia returned.

“I can. I can do almost anything in a coach. Or with a coach,” he added with an odd smile.

Thomas took her arm with a rather surprising firmness and pulled her to her feet.

“It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Audley,” Amelia said.

“Yes,” he murmured, “it does seem that you are leaving.”

“Amelia,” Thomas said curtly, leading her away.

“Is something wrong?” she asked him once they had reached the hall. She looked about for Grace, but she had disappeared.

“Of course not,” he said. “Merely matters to which I must attend.”

Amelia was about to ask about the upcoming trip to Ireland, but for some reason she did not. She wasn’t sure why; it was not a conscious decision, more of a feeling than anything else. Thomas seemed so distracted. She did not wish to upset him further.

And aside from that, she rather doubted he would answer her honestly if she did ask. He would not lie; that would be entirely out of his character. But he would brush off the query with something vague and condescending, and she would lose all the lovely feelings she had gained that morning.

“Might I take with me one of the atlases?” she asked. The trip home would be less than an hour, but she had so enjoyed looking at the maps. It was something they had done together, their heads bowed over the books, their foreheads nearly touching.

The outline of a continent, the pale blue shading of an ocean on the page-these would forever make her think of him.

As she was riding home, the carriage bumping gently over the ruts in the road, she turned the pages until she found Ireland. She rather liked the shape of it, all flat in the east, then seeming to reach out its arms toward the Atlantic in the west.

She would ask Thomas about the trip the next time she saw him. Surely he would not leave the country without telling her.

She closed her eyes, picturing his face, conveniently editing out his blackened eye. They had entered a new chapter in their relationship. Of this she was certain.