Page 66 of The Duchess’ Second Chance

But at once she was hit with the realization that that would be no better. By hoping for such a thing, she would be placing a terrible burden upon Rose, equally as bad as the one her own father had placed upon her. Though she would never order Rose to marry, the girl already loved Amanda enough that she would have sacrificed the power to read in order to keep the two of them close. If she grew up watching Amanda living out a miserable life for her sake here with Sampson, she would be desperate to do whatever she could to improve Amanda’s lot. She would likely accept the first man who made her an offer, without even considering the possibility of marrying for love.

My goodness. This is how it happens. No matter how good our intentions are, this is how young ladies find themselves forced by circumstance into marriages of convenience or for social advantage. I would never, ever ask Rose to do such a thing. I would never want her to feel as if she had to. And yet, without my even trying, I can already see a way her future might lead her there.

So it was for more than her own sake that she was going to have to make this marriage work. An annulment was not a good option.

She was satisfied with that conclusion, and it was easier to accept than the possibility that the reason she didn’t want to end her marriage had to do with her own feelings, or with the fact that Sampson had kissed her…and a part of her yearned for that to happen again.

“The cook sent up your dinner,” Mrs. Linden said, depositing two trays of food from the cart she was pushing on the table. “Although I must say, delivering meals was not mentioned in the job description when I was hired as a governess.”

“We certainly appreciate it, Mrs. Linden,” Amanda said. She frowned at the cart in front of her. “There’s another tray?”

She had already figured out who that tray was for, of course. There was only one person it could be for. There was no possibility she could be wrong about this.

Still, her heart pounded in anticipation of hearing his name. It had become so loaded for her in the past day. Just hearing him referred to had as much power over her as the kiss had.

“Yes,” Mrs. Linden said, oblivious to all of that. “I’m to take the tray to His Grace as well.”

“You know, you’re quite right, though,” Amanda said, getting to her feet. “That really isn’t one of your duties. You shouldn’t have to.”

“Oh, forgive me, Your Grace.” Mrs. Linden blushed, clearly under the impression that this was a reprimand. “I shouldn’t have said anything of the sort. I forgot myself. Of course, I’m only too happy to deliver the tray.”

“No, but you really shouldn’t have to do it,” Amanda insisted, her heart pounding at her own audacity. “I’ll do this for you.”

“It certainly isn’t your duty, Your Grace,” Mrs. Linden said.

“No,” Amanda agreed. “But he is my husband, and in that sense, it is my duty to tend to his needs. Besides, I haven’t seen him today. I’ve been with Rose all day long.”

“I thought we were having fun,” Rose protested. “That sounds like you don’t want to spend time with me.”

“I just feel as if I should see to Sampson,” Amanda said, feeling very exposed, as if even Rose might intuit somehow what was going on. “I’ll take the tray, Mrs. Linden, and Rose, you show Mrs. Linden how well you’ve been reading that book. I’ll be back before long.”

She got to her feet before anyone could argue or ask any further questions and lifted the tray from the cart. Then she set off through the door and down the hall toward Sampson’s study.

Almost at once, the whole thing began to seem like a terrible idea.

She didn’t even know herself exactly what she was doing, but it would be far too easy for Sampson to read meaning into her actions. The last time they had spoken, after all, he had offered her an annulment, and now she was bringing his dinner. Would it look to him as though she was thanking him for the offer and had decided to accept it? Or would he think that she had hated the idea and was trying to change his mind? Whichever interpretation he placed on the event, she wasn’t likely to get a chance to correct it. He wouldn’t ask her if he was right, most likely. And even if he did, she had no idea what she would say in response.

I have no idea what I’m doing here…other than being completely foolish.

Still, she had already started forward, and turning back now seemed impossible. She had little choice but to continue along the path she’d set out on…a path that now left her standing outside his study door feeling slightly weak in the knees.

Just give him his dinner, and then you can go back to Rose. You’re already making far too much of this in your mind.

She reached out and gave two quick knocks on the door.

There was a long pause.

Then his voice responded, somewhat muffled through the thick door— “It’s unlocked. Come on in.”

She took a deep breath. There could be no turning back now.

It was astonishing how overwhelming something as simple as delivering a dinner tray could feel.

She balanced the tray on one arm, carefully turned the knob, and opened the door.

Sampson was staring down at his desk, at a scroll of paper that he had laid out before him. “Just put it there,” he said, waving at the desk’s corner.

He doesn’t know it’s me.