A Taste of Desire(63)
Normally, Thomas would not have had an issue with his friend staying at Stoneridge Hall—he had been a frequent guest there since their youth—but this time … it just didn’t feel right. Couldn’t he avoid the duke without leaving town? Good Lord, his friend acted as if London wasn’t a big enough city for the two Cartwright men.
At his silence, Cartwright asked, “It won’t be a problem, will it?”
Thomas quickly shook his head. “No, no problem at all.” However, something inside him refuted the claim—loudly.
“Wonderful. It will also give me an opportunity to become better acquainted with Lady Amelia. Of the handful of times we’ve met, we’ve exchanged scarcely more than a polite greeting.” Cartwright appeared to be watching him closely for a reaction.
A thousand words of protest sprang to his lips. Thomas voiced not one word and flickered not one eyelash. “I’m certain she’ll be delighted for the company.”
On second thought, perhaps he could use that second drink.
Chapter 16
There were no two ways around it; Amelia knew what she had to do. And if she did it now, she might be able to avoid awkwardness at supper.
With nothing to bolster her flagging courage but the deepest sense of remorse, she knocked on the bedchamber door and waited in dread.
The door was opened quickly. Camille Foxworth stood on the other side regarding her with eyes widened in shock—or perhaps it was horror. Amelia really couldn’t take issue with that. No doubt the poor woman believed she had come to divest her of her last shred of dignity. Finish the job, so to speak. Amelia could well understand why; her remark had been the veriest of insults.
“Lady Amelia, I-I—”
“Might I have a moment of your time, Miss Foxworth?”
“Yes—yes, of course.” She appeared flustered and not only a little nervous as she hastily moved aside to bid her entrance.
The bedchamber was on par with hers in décor as well as size: roomy, adequately heated, with solid, elegant furnishings and an exquisite canopied bed. Apparently, like hers, Miss Foxworth’s accommodations were more those of a guest than servant.
Quietly, Miss Foxworth closed the door before turning to face her. Amelia swallowed hard.
“Please allow me to apologize for my behavior this afternoon. I don’t know what prompted me to say something so unkind, so unwarranted. My rudeness was inexcusable and utterly reprehensible.” Amelia could barely stand to meet the woman’s gaze after she ended the contrite and rushed apology. Humble pie did not go down as easily as chocolate-dipped strawberries, nor did it come even remotely close to pleasing the palate.
For a moment Miss Foxworth stood motionless, her expression that of someone who’d received a hard knock on the head. Then she was fluttering her hands about and speaking quickly. “Lady Amelia, you needn’t apologize. Believe me, at my age and circumstance, I’ve heard much worse. All you did was speak the truth.”
Such self-deprecation. No one should be so inured to insults as to be resigned to them. Make light of them. A stab of shame hit her square in her conscience, one Amelia felt down to her bones.
“No.” Amelia said quite emphatically. “I have every need to apologize. What I said, how I acted, was beyond reproach. I remain more than a little ashamed of myself.”
Miss Foxworth smiled tentatively lighting up her blue eyes and accentuating cheekbones Amelia only now noticed were attractively high. It struck her then, that the woman wasn’t as nondescript as she’d first thought. Yes, her appearance certainly could be improved, and the first thing Amelia would suggest was a change in her wardrobe, which seemed to consist primarily of pale colors that did nothing for her pallid complexion.
“You have such lovely eyes and cheekbones.”
Miss Foxworth averted her head in a quick dismissal of the compliment, but her face turned the color of a ripe apricot. “Please, Lady Amelia, you do not have to—”
“I’m not saying so to make up for my behavior. Believe me, I’m not that kind.” Well, perhaps she was being a little kind, for she had much too appease for.
“I believe you’re kinder than you think.”
“And I believe there are others who would not agree with you,” Amelia answered with a little laugh. After a shared moment of amiable silence, her regard went to the bed, where a newspaper lay open atop the flowered counterpane. “I see I’ve interrupted you. I shall allow you to get back to your reading.”