“Enough, Amelia!” Charles rose from his chair and placed his hands firmly on the desk, looking across at his younger sister and finding his temper no longer contained. “I have heard quite enough. If I decide that it is best for you to return to the estate, then I shall do so regardless of what our mother states. You may believe that you have come to London to do as you please, but that, I will remind you, is not at all the situation you are in. Everything from your pin money to your lady’s maid is under my control.” He swallowed hard, disliking the fact that he had to remind his sister of such a thing, but knowing that it was best for her that he do so. “Everything that you have required has been given to you without hesitation. You have the very best of things, Amelia, but if you continue to behave in this imprudent, unconsidered fashion, then I will have no choice but to return to the estate and take both you and mama with me.” Keeping his gaze steady and ignoring the tears that had sprung into her eyes, Charles thumped one hand on the table for good measure. “Is that quite clear, Amelia?”
His sister jerked visibly and one hand went to her mouth as a single tear fell to her cheek. Charles remained unmoved, waiting for her acknowledgement as he stood silently, still fixed and determined in his gaze.
“Yes, Barrington.”
Her words were quiet, her voice low as she dropped her head, another tear splashing onto her hand as she sat, the picture of obedience, in her chair.
“You are dismissed.”
Charles waited for his sister to take her leave, refusing to be drawn into her theatrics and making it quite plain by the hardness in his voice and the firmness of his stance that he would not accept any sort of foolishness from her. These last two weeks had been nothing but a trial and he was not about to allow it to continue any longer.
With a sniff, Amelia pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes before slowly rising from her chair. The swish of her skirts was the only sound as she made her way from the room, taking her time to walk past his desk and sniff once more, her handkerchief still in her hand. Charles set his jaw firmly, and narrowed his eyes, everything within him tightening until, finally, the door closed behind her.
Letting out a great sigh, he flung himself back in his chair and closed his eyes, feeling the tension flood out of him as he did so. He would have to speak to his mother next, but that could wait for a short time, although certainly it would have to be done by the close of the day. No doubt she would make a great fuss of what he had said to Amelia and would attempt to berate him for his harsh words, but Charles was utterly determined to do as he had said. If his sister continued to behave in such a fashion, then it would be best for her to return home, so that she might consider her behavior and improve it for the following year. She was young enough and there would be plenty of time for her to enjoy the Season and find a match! He need not feel any sort of guilt over the matter.
After spending some time making certain that his sister’s debts were paid – for what he determined would be the last time for this Season – Charles was about to ring for some refreshments when Jamison, his butler, tapped on the door.
“Enter.”
The butler did so, and handed Charles a card, then stood and waited for his instructions.
“Lord Banfield!” Charles exclaimed, handing the card back to the butler. “Yes of course, and at once! From now on, if Lord Banfield calls, he is to be shown in immediately.”
Jamison acquiesced and, in a few moments, Lord Banfield stepped into the room.
“Banfield!” Charles exclaimed, coming around from his desk to greet his old friend. “How very good to see you! I did not know that you had returned to London!”
Lord Banfield chuckled and nodded.
“For my sins, yes, I have,” he replied, his jolly face lighting up as he shook Charles’ hand. “Only two days ago, however. I thought I should write to inform you of my return, but then decided to call instead.”
“I am very glad you did so,” Charles replied, conducting his friend to a chair. “Brandy?”
“Of course!” Lord Banfield exclaimed, making Charles laugh. “You always seem to have the most excellent brandy, whereas my own dulls in comparison.”
Charles handed his friend a glass, then sat down in a chair opposite and let out a long sigh.
“You look a little weary, old friend,” Lord Banfield said, quietly, observing Charles for a moment. “Has something in London troubled you?”
Charles smiled ruefully.
“I have been in London for two Seasons, I think,” he said slowly, as his friend nodded. “Last Season, I was absent, as you know, due to the mourning period for my father.” He let out a long breath. “This Season, however, I have my sister with me in London and, with her, our mother.”
Lord Banfield’s eyes flared for a moment only, then he began to chuckle as he took in Charles’ depressed expression.
“Forgive me,” he said, one hand pressed against his heart. “I should not laugh when you are clearly in distress!” With an effort, he quelled his mirth. “Is it a great trial?”
Charles closed his eyes and let out a groan.
“It is good you have returned to London,” he said, honestly. “For you will be able to advise me.”
“Advise you?” Lord Banfield spluttered, his eyes widening. “I have no advice to give, Barrington!”
“You have sisters!” Charles argued, but Lord Banfield shook his head.
“They are all older than I, if you
