Page 44 of The Rake's Revenge
Amelia did not know how long she sat there in pensive, miserable silence, but she was startled when there was a small scratch at the door. It cautiously swung inward to reveal Clara, hands crossed before her, looking younger than her years and sovery small. Her lovely features were mottled, and her eyes, too, were puffy from crying.
“Clara! I thought you’d left with your brother.” It felt silly now, but she’d simply assumed that Dorian would take her with him—that she’d departed in the Kempton carriage shortly after Dorian and Brinley had taken their leave. However, she now realized she’d neither seen nor heard the preparations being made for the Kempton carriage and team to depart. Her mind had been in such a fog…
Clara shook her head, looking as haggard as Amelia felt. “I waited for him to summon me, but word never came. I heard the carriage departing, so I went to the great hall. Your butler handed me a note. Dori—” Her breath caught. “Dori left without me and instructed me to stay for as long as I like and as long as I am welcome. He left our carriage behind for my use.” Clara looked slightly terrified as she met Amelia’s eyes and asked, “Is that alright with you?”
“Of course,” Amelia whispered, taken aback by Dorian’s decision. It was so different from how Clara’s holiday had begun.
Suddenly, Clara’s chin wavered and her eyes filled with tears. “I am so, so sorry, Amelia. I had no idea—”
“I know,” Amelia choked out and set her book aside before opening her arms to Clara. The girl rushed over, and they held one another, sharing their grief and confusion.
Clara took a shaky breath. “I had no idea what he’d planned. I feel like I do not know my brother at all.”
Amelia stroked her hair, but said nothing—what was there for her to say?
They held one another and, through mute agreement, spoke of anything and everything except for the events of that day. When it was time to sleep, they changed, and Clara eventually returned to Amelia’s chamber, climbing in beside her without needing to ask permission.
Exhausted from her grief, Amelia began to drift off to sleep more quickly than she’d anticipated; however, it was there beneath the shield of darkness that Clara admitted something. “Brinley kissed me today.”
Amelia shot up into an upright position. “When did that occur?”
There were a few heartbeats of silence. “Today. Just before he told me…everything.” Clara went on to describe how it had transpired, her tone too even for Amelia to judge how Clara wished for her to react.
“And…how do you feel about it?”
“The man is infuriating. He is nothing but condescending to me; he teases me mercilessly. I do not understand why in the world he would do such a thing! I…I am unsure how I feel about it.”
Amelia knew Clara had been kissed before—though probably no more than chaste, stolen pecks behind her brother’s back, so she tried another angle.
“How was it?” she asked, grinning wickedly and feeling a bit better about her sorry situation with the distraction of Clara’s unexpected drama.
Clara was at a loss for words, stammering for an explanation. From what Amelia was able to glean, this was no little kiss, it was far from proper or unintentional. It had been a man kissing a woman he desired, even if it took a few drinks to bolster him enough to act upon those desires. Wouldn’t Dorian bethrilledwhen he found out…
The thought of his apoplectic reaction sent a bubble of inappropriate pleasure through her, but she was not blinded by pain enough to be willing to sacrifice Clara’s safety and virtue.
“Until you decide how you wish to proceed around Brinley, you should be wary and alert,” she cautioned Clara. “I suspect there is more to his actions and his emotions than even he isaware of. He is a man who plays his cards close to his chest, and an unpredictable man can be a dangerous one.” She didn’t think Brinley would harm Clara, but Amelia would rather opt for an abundance of caution rather than a dearth of it.
“I will,” Clara swore, then rolled to her side to take Amelia’s hand in her own. Finally, they slept.
Several weeks passed,but there was no mention of Clara leaving Scotland. Amelia took pleasure in the distraction and, though she didn’t say it in such blunt terms, she suspected Clara felt just as betrayed by Dorian and disgusted by his callousness. She avoided bringing her brother up in conversation—Amelia suspected because of the issue of split loyalties—which was fine with her.
Amelia was able to focus on Archie and her sole houseguest, doing her best to return to life as it had been before Dorian had barged back into it with his defiant temper and ill-intentioned kisses. Unfortunately for Amelia, this did not banish him completely from her mind.
There were moments when she thought she might expire from her shame or her loathing of his behavior; other times, she’d awaken in her cold bed with no man or beast to chase away the shadows or warm her, and the tears would choke her as she attempted to swallow them back. She fought it valiantly, though, because she refused to cry for the loss of something that hadn’t even been real.
Though he’d only been there for a short time, the castle felt cavernous without Dorian. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to run Rory without Faye or Dorian chasing after her, so she occupied herself with indoor activities that had nothing to do with her broken heart.
One afternoon when she, Clara, and Archie were quietly occupied with individual pursuits in the family parlor, there was a knock. Grahame entered, advising there was a visitor.
“Who is he?” she asked, looking up from her sewing.
“One Sir Colin Brandon,” the butler patiently repeated. “He says he has a delivery for you and insists that this is not a delivery he will leave ’round back.”
Amelia was unsure who the man was, but she couldn’t turn him away when he was insistent that he had business with her. Hearing out requests and meeting with tenants were some of her duties as she managed the estate for her son.
“Show him in,” she said, setting aside her work.
“I wonder what business he has,” Clara remarked off-handedly, not bothering to look up from her book.
