A Taste of Desire(78)
If she claimed any intimate knowledge of him, she’d say his behavior held the green tinge of jealousy. But perhaps that was her exalted opinion of her own charms. He could very well have entirely different reasons for his surly disposition. Perhaps he didn’t think her good enough for his friend.
Although, that notion certainly wouldn’t explain what he’d been doing slumbering in a chair at her bedside when she was ill. In the grip of her fever, she’d thought she’d dreamed him there. However, along with the cold light of day the next morning, she’d awoken to the lingering scent of bergamot in her bedchamber, proof she hadn’t conjured him up on the sliver of a wishful thought. Something inside her had melted with the knowledge, her opinion of him irrevocably changed. He wasn’t in every way like her father, as he’d actually come to her in her time of illness.
Yes, perhaps he was jealous. And for him to succumb to that emotion, he had to care for her at least a little beyond their undeniable, potent physical attraction.
While she and Thomas fell silent, Cartwright inquired politely to Miss Foxworth of her plans for Christmas, which was only a month away. Amelia had no special fondness for the holiday, at least not since her mother had died.
“Today, I received a letter from my brother. He hopes to be home for Christmas this year.” Miss Foxworth did not so much as respond to Lord Alex as announce the news to the occupants of the table.
“Foxworth finally coming home? Truly a reason to celebrate this year, eh Armstrong?” Lord Alex said, flicking a glance at Thomas before returning his attention to Miss Foxworth. “I can only imagine how eager you must be.”
Miss Foxworth’s pale cheeks flushed to apricot as she bobbed her head in agreement, a stark longing flaring in her eyes. “It has been almost two years since I’ve seen him. I wonder how much he has changed. But certainly my biggest hope and prayer is that he come home safe and unharmed.” Her gaze then flew to the viscount’s expressionless face. “Lord Armstrong, I hoped perhaps you could spare me some time during Christmastide?”
Thomas seemed to snap to attention as if her question had jerked him from deep thoughts. “Forgive me. I’m afraid my mind was occupied with a business matter. Did you say your brother is due home?”
“He expects to arrive back on English soil three days prior to Christmas. If you could spare me for three or four days that would—”
“Three or four days? Absolutely not. You will remain with him as long as you wish. How long is he to remain in London?”
“He wrote for two months—or that is the hope.” Camille turned to Amelia. “Marcus is the only family I have.”
“Oh, no need to explain yourself to me. I think it’s wonderful that he should have such a devoted sister.” Oftentimes, when she was a child she’d craved a sibling.
“Missy has invited us to spend Christmas with her and her family. However, I can see that would in no way compare to seeing your brother.”
Amelia shot a wide-eyed look at Thomas. They would be spending Christmas with his sister? Why was it only now she was hearing of this?
“Why, that’s wonderful. I want you to know that in my absence, I fully intended to find a replacement. But if you will be in Berkshire with your sister and Lord Windmere …” Miss Foxworth’s voice trailed off.
“And as my mother and sisters will be back by the New Year, there will be no need for you to return. That should give you as much time as you please to spend with your brother.”
“Yes, then it all works out perfectly.” Miss Foxworth’s gaze dropped to her plate but not before Amelia noted the faint yearning in her eyes. She wanted to return, that much Amelia could see. It was absurd, really ridiculous, as she’d never seen Thomas treat Miss Foxworth in anything but a brotherly manner, but in a moment of her own twinge of jealousy, she could hardly wait for the woman to leave.
In an effort to veer from the unwanted feelings, Amelia shifted her attention to Lord Alex. “And you, my lord, how will you be celebrating Christmas?”
Cartwright’s shoulders rose and fell negligently. “Not entirely certain. Perhaps I’ll take Lady Windmere up on her invitation.”
“My sister’s invited you too?” Thomas heard the sharpness in his own voice and regretted it.
“Actually, Rutherford mentioned it when he was in town on Parliament business.”
Normally, Thomas would have welcomed the company of his friend during his stay at Rutherford Manor. He couldn’t count the number of times Cartwright had celebrated various holidays and celebrations with his family. He was, for all intents and purposes, a surrogate member of the Armstrong clan, the two having met when they were young boys at Eton.