A Taste of Desire(110)
Thomas regarded his brother-in-law. Rutherford was right. His sister would turn his plans for something simple and small into something worthy of royalty, which meant expeditiousness could only be considered a feeble ray of hope.
“I will speak to Harry once he returns from America.”
“A mere formality,” Cartwright said with another dismissive wave of his hand.
“Then I say we drink to your upcoming marriage.” Rutherford lifted his glass in a toast.
“Hear, hear.” Cartwright appeared resigned to the fact he’d now be the lone bachelor left standing.
“To your good fortune,” Rutherford said.
“To my good fortune,” Thomas echoed clinking his glass with that of his closest friends.
The visit came to a close much too quickly. If Amelia could have made the time in Berkshire stretch another month, she would have done so readily. But with the holidays over, reality crept in. Thomas had a business to attend to, as did Lord Alex and the earl.
In the two weeks of their visit, she and Missy had formed a very close bond. And it wasn’t just Missy with whom she felt close, but the entire Rutherford family. That’s what made their departure so painful. Having to say good-bye caught and pinched at her heart.
Their trip back to Stoneridge Hall proved as uneventful as crossing the French Riviera in a gondola draped in silken swaths of fabric and sipping the finest champagne in all of France—with a chaperone. Hélène sat quiet yet content beside her, seemingly oblivious to the fact both of the other members of her party wished her anywhere but there. For between she and Thomas existed a chemistry no words could describe. Their intimacy was familiar now and fraught with all the passion and lust between two new lovers. They needn’t look at one another to light the spark that had them touching, kissing, and exploring one another. That had happened often enough over the last few weeks.
It was well past ten o’clock in the evening when they arrived at Stoneridge Hall. But despite the late hour, Lady Armstrong, attired in a pale yellow silk supper dress indicating she’d hadn’t yet changed to retire for the evening, was there to greet them.
The viscountess’s green eyes sparkled and her cheeks were the pink of a gleeful young girl fresh from her first time at the Crystal Palace. It was clear she’d benefitted greatly from her trip to America.
“The girls waited up as long as they could, but the poor dears started nodding off to sleep in the morning room.”
Thomas dropped his hand from the small of Amelia’s back and advanced toward his mother. They embraced warmly, the viscountess kissing both his cheeks.
“I suppose a ‘Happy Christmas’ is in order. I gather you enjoyed your trip,” he said, drawing back, clasping both her arms in his hands. “I don’t think I remember seeing you looking quite so happy. Good Lord, I’ll go even so far as to say that I believe you’re glowing.” His eyes danced with merriment. “Perhaps you met a gentleman during your visit?”
A deep pink heightened the color suffusing his mother’s cheeks. “You are even more impertinent than your sisters,” the viscountess scolded with a smile. She evaded the teasing question by turning her attention to Amelia.
“Hello, dear, I hope my daughter made you feel at home.”
How could one put into words the friendship that had developed between her and Missy? “Missy and James were the most gracious hosts. And the girls made me feel very much a part of the family. And as for your grandchildren, I could wax poetic about them for hours.”
The countess took Amelia’s gloved hand in hers and gave it several pats. “Well, you might be happy to hear you should be bound for home very soon. Your father returned with us. He’s currently at his residence in town. He expects to come and collect you himself.”
Amelia’s gaze instantly flew to Thomas.
“Harry is in town?” Thomas asked before she could form an appropriate response. He appeared happily surprised.
“Yes, he managed to wrap up his business two days before our ship was due to depart.”
Her father. For the first time in years, the thought of him didn’t cause the clenching in her chest or anger to rush through her like blood pumps through veins. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly what she was feeling. “I must say I am indeed surprised,” she said quite honestly.
“Well, you both must be weary from your travels. I will bid you good night. We will speak in the morning.”