One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)(97)

“That’s very kind of you. And Spencer.” Lily gave her a sly look. “Did I not say he would make you a fine husband?”

Amelia blushed, turning the dough and slapping it to the table. “Yes, you did. And it took some time, but he eventually proved you right.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

Amelia was happy, too. But it seemed uncouth to gush on about it, when Lily was still mourning her brother.

At the thought of brothers, her own heart gave a twinge. More than ever, she hoped this holiday could lay the foundations of reconciliation between Spencer and Jack. Though Spencer remained his usual reserved self, Amelia noticed the signs of her husband warming to Briarbank’s beautiful scenery and homely atmosphere. She understood now that he’d been raised on a series of British forts in Canada, then transferred straight to the grandeur of Braxton Hall. He’d never known the comforts of a cozy home and affectionate family. After their time here, surely he would understand why Amelia couldn’t turn her back on a member of her own.

She asked, “Are you certain you don’t mind sharing with Claudia? It’s such a small cottage, only four bedchambers. But if you do mind, we can put someone in the—”

“It’s fine,” Lily interrupted. “I’m grateful for the company. Even the taciturn variety.”

Amelia sighed. “She never talks, does she? I don’t know how to reach out to her.” She felt a pinch guilty for turning Claudia away from the library that afternoon. She wondered if Spencer had ever caught up with her, to find out what she’d wanted. The coaches had arrived so soon thereafter; he might not have had the chance. “I have to admit, that’s why I put the two of you together. Perhaps you can succeed where I’ve failed. I’ve tried and tried making friends with her, but she only becomes more withdrawn.”

She punched down the dough. Her failure to win over Claudia had her frustrated and, yes, a bit resentful. Strolls along the river, pianoforte duets, even trips to the shops—the girl rejected her every suggestion. She didn’t know what more to do.

After setting the bread aside to rise a final time, she clapped the flour from her hands and turned to wash them in the basin.

While her back was turned, she heard Lily say, “What a surprise! I didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

Had the men returned from the river so soon? It couldn’t be Mr. Bellamy—she still heard a haunting melody emanating from the pianoforte. Shaking her hands to dry them, Amelia turned around.

What she saw made her knees go weak.

“Hullo, Amelia.”

“Jack?” For a moment, she thought she was seeing a ghost. The phantom of Jack’s fourteenth summer, when he’d shot up four inches in six weeks and devoured every scrap of food in the house before picking the nearest trees clean of green apples, too. But of course she wasn’t seeing a boy, nor a ghost. This was truly her brother standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, like a stranger in his own house. He looked haggard, gaunt. His clothes hung loose on his frame, giving him that boyish, bony appearance. Dark shadows haunted his eyes, and his last shave had been at least three days ago.

Her eyes welled. The tears streaked down her cheeks before she could get them back.

“Oh, come now. Is that any way to greet your favorite brother?”

“Jack.” She threw her arms around him, hugging him close. What’s happened to you? she wanted to ask. How had he sunk to this low? She was failing him, so miserably. Failing her mother’s memory. Failing Hugh’s. “It’s good to see you.” She clutched him tighter still. No matter what Spencer did or said, this time she would not let Jack go. Not until he told her everything, and together they made some plan to get his life put to rights. She’d lost one brother already, and she couldn’t bear the pain of losing another.

“We’ve a full house,” she said, wiping her tears and striving for a cheery tone. “Can you make do with the attic while you’re here?”

“Of course. Assuming Morland doesn’t—”

A deep voice interrupted. “Assuming Morland doesn’t what?”

Spencer tromped into the kitchen, holding a set of sleek fish. “Three salmon, as ordered.” He flung the fish on the table and turned to Jack.

Amelia’s stomach knotted. She didn’t know how Spencer would react to Jack showing up again uninvited. Even though he shouldn’t need an invitation—not to his own family’s house.

Lord Ashworth followed Spencer into the room. At the sight of the giant, Jack held up his hands in a gesture of truce. “I’m not here to make trouble. I’ve brought the papers from Laurent.”

“Papers?” Amelia asked. “What papers?”

No one heeded her question. Amelia held her breath as Spencer dragged a wary gaze over her brother’s disheveled clothes and sharply angled form. Would he curse Jack? Dismiss him? Welcome him? It seemed too much to hope for the last, but she couldn’t help but dream.

In the end, he didn’t speak a word to Jack. “Ashworth, this is Amelia’s brother. Jack d’Orsay.” He caught Amelia’s gaze. “He’ll be staying with us for a while.”

Tears of relief pricked at the corners of her eyes. Oh, how she loved him. She loved both these men, more than she loved her own life. And she adored Spencer for not forcing her to choose between them. Thank you, she mouthed to her husband.