“What a fetching tableau the two of you make,” he said. “And me, without my oils.”
“Do you paint, Mr. Audley?” Amelia asked. She had been brought up to make polite conversation whenever the situation called for it, and even, quite frequently, when it did not. Some habits were hard to break.
“Alas, no,” he said. “But I have been thinking I might take some lessons. It is a noble pursuit for a gentleman, wouldn’t you say?”
“Oh, indeed,” she replied, although privately she thought that he would have been better served had he begun his studies at a younger age. Amelia looked at Grace, since it seemed only natural that she would add to the conversation. When she did not, Amelia gave her a polite nudge.
“Mr. Audley is a great appreciator of art,” Grace blurted out.
Mr. Audley smiled enigmatically.
And Amelia was once again left to fill the breach. “You must be enjoying your stay at Belgrave Castle, then,” she said to him.
“I look forward to touring the collections,” he replied. “Miss Eversleigh has consented to show them to me.”
“That was very kind of you, Grace.” Amelia said, working to keep her surprise off her face. Not that there was anything wrong with Mr. Audley, except perhaps for his inability to leave the room when she wished him to. But as Grace was the dowager’s companion, it seemed odd that she would have been asked to show Thomas’s friend the collections.
Grace grunted something that was probably meant to be a response.
“We plan to avoid cupids,” Mr. Audley said.
“Cupids?” Amelia echoed. Good heavens, he did move from topic to topic.
He shrugged. “I have discovered that I am not fond of them.”
How could anyone not be fond of cupids?
“I can see that you disagree, Lady Amelia,” Mr. Audley said. But Amelia noticed that he glanced at Grace before he spoke.
“What is there not to like about cupids?” Amelia asked him. She had not intended to engage him in such a ridiculous conversation, but really, he’d brought it up.
He perched himself on the arm of the opposite sofa. “You don’t find them rather dangerous?” he asked, clearly out to make mischief.
“Chubby little babies?”
“Carrying deadly weapons,” he reminded her.
“They are not real arrows.”
Mr. Audley turned to Grace. Again. “What do you think, Miss Eversleigh?”
“I don’t often think about cupids,” she replied.
“And yet we have already discussed them twice, you and I.”
“Because you brought them up.”
Amelia drew back in surprise. She’d never heard Grace so short of temper.
“My dressing room is positively awash in them,” Mr. Audley said.
Amelia turned to Grace. “You were in his dressing room?”
“Not with him,” Grace practically snapped. “But I have certainly seen it before.”
No one spoke, and then Grace finally muttered, “Pardon.”
“Mr. Audley,” Amelia said, deciding it was well past time to take the situation in hand. She was turning over a new leaf today, she’d decided. She had managed Thomas and she could manage these two if she had to.
“Lady Amelia,” he said with a gracious tilt of his chin.
“Would it be rude if Miss Eversleigh and I took a turn about the room?”
“Of course not,” he said immediately, even though it was rude, given that they were only a threesome, and he’d be left with nothing to do.
“Thank you for your understanding,” Amelia said, linking her arm through Grace’s and pulling them both to their feet. “I do feel the need to stretch my legs, and I fear that your stride would be far too brisk for a lady.”
Good gad, she could not believe she was uttering such tripe, but it seemed to do the trick. Mr. Audley said nothing more, and she steered Grace over to a spot by the windows.
“I need to speak with you,” she whispered, modulating their pace into something even and graceful.
Grace nodded.
“This morning,” Amelia continued, glancing surreptitiously at Mr. Audley to see if he was watching them (he was), “Wyndham was in need of assistance, and I came to his aid, but I had to tell my mother that it was you I had seen, and that you had invited me back to Belgrave.”
Grace nodded again, her eyes straight ahead, and then at the door, but never on her.
“I doubt it will come to it, but should you see my mother, I beg of you not to contradict.”
“Of course not,” Grace said quickly. “You have my word.”
Amelia nodded, somewhat surprised at how easy that had been. She had not expected Grace to decline, but all the same, she thought she’d have to offer something more of an explanation. Grace hadn’t even asked why Wyndham had been in need of assistance. Surely that warranted some curiosity. When had either of them known him to need anything?
They fell silent as they promenaded past Mr. Audley, who looked rather amused at the spectacle they presented.
“Miss Eversleigh,” he murmured. “Lady Amelia.”
“Mr. Audley,” Amelia returned. Grace said the same.
They continued around the room, Amelia picking up the conversation once they were again out of his earshot. “I do hope I do not overstep,” she whispered. Grace was very silent, and Amelia was well aware that she was asking a great deal in asking her to lie.
They heard footsteps in the hall, and Grace’s entire body jerked toward the door. But it was just a footman, walking by with a large trunk, probably empty, given that he had it perched easily on his shoulder.
“Sorry,” Grace said. “Did you say something?”
Amelia started to repeat her comment, but instead just said, “No.” She’d never seen Grace so distracted.
They continued around the room, taking, as they had the first time, the longest possible perimeter. As they drew close to the door, they heard more footsteps.
“Excuse me,” Grace said, pulling away. She hurried to the open doorway, looked out, and then returned. “It wasn’t the duke,” she said.
Amelia glanced through the open doorway. Two more footmen were moving through the hall, one with a trunk and another with a hatbox.
“Is someone going somewhere?” Amelia asked.
“No,” Grace replied. “Well, I suppose someone might be, but I do not know about it.”
Her voice sounded so abrupt and unsettled that Amelia finally asked, “Grace, are you all right?”
Her head turned, but not far enough for Amelia to see into her eyes. “Oh, no…I mean, yes, I’m quite fine.”
Amelia glanced back toward Mr. Audley. He waved. She turned back to Grace, whose face had flushed to a deep pink.
Which was reason enough to look back at Mr. Audley. He was looking at Grace. It was true that the two ladies were arm in arm, but it was more than obvious which was the recipient of his sultry gaze.
Grace knew it, too. Her breath caught, and indeed, her whole body stiffened. Amelia felt it tensing through her arm.
And then she was struck with the most marvelous thought.
“Grace,” she whispered, keeping her voice extra low, “are you in love with Mr. Audley?”
“No!”
Grace’s cheeks, which had begun to return to their normal tone, went right back to crimson. Her refusal had come out quite loudly, and Mr. Audley was regarding them with amused curiosity. Grace smiled weakly, nodded, and said, “Mr. Audley,” even though he couldn’t possibly hear her from where he sat.
“I’ve only just met him,” Grace whispered furiously. “Yesterday. No, the day before. I can’t recall.”
“You’ve been meeting many intriguing gentlemen lately, have you not?”
Grace turned to her sharply. “Whatever can you mean?”
“Mr. Audley…” Amelia teased. “The Italian highwayman.”
“Amelia!”
“Oh, that’s right, you said he was Scottish.
Or Irish. You weren’t certain.” Amelia caught sight of Mr. Audley just then, and it occurred to her that his accent was very slightly foreign as well. “Where is Mr. Audley from? He has a bit of a lilt as well.”
“I do not know,” Grace said, rather impatiently, in Amelia’s opinion.
“Mr. Audley,” Amelia called out.
He immediately tilted his head in question.
“Grace and I were wondering where you are from. Your accent is unfamiliar to me.”