Persuasion

Her tension knew no bounds. It had been impossible to keep her gaze from his broad shoulders during the service. He had recognized her.

Amelia had never been as shaken.

But the crowd was beginning to arise. “We should slip out before the other guests,” Amelia suggested. “The child is certainly hungry.” But her eyes were on the front of the chapel. Grenville’s two sons were seated in the front row by themselves. Grenville had left a few minutes ago, before the eulogy was over. How could he leave his children like that? Had he been that distraught?

When he had rushed up the nave, he had looked right at her. He had been terribly pale, as if he was about to become sick.

She shouldn’t care, but she did.

“She misses her mother,” Mrs. Murdock said. Tears began to slide down her face. “That is why she is so fussy.”

Amelia hesitated. The governess had managed to control herself throughout the service, and she could not blame her for crying now. A funeral was overwhelming under the best of circumstances, and Elizabeth dying so young was the worst of events. But the infant had never known her mother. “Where is Signor Barelli? I don’t know if St. Just will return. I think I should get the boys.”

“I saw him leave before his lordship did,” Mrs. Murdock said, rocking the child. “He adored Lady Grenville. I believe Signor Barelli was too distraught to stay. He was ready to weep!”

Amelia decided that Grenville had been too distraught to remain for the end of the service, as well. “Wait a moment,” she said, and she hurried past the guests, most of whom were now leaving their seats. She knew them all, and she nodded at those she passed. “William? John? We are going back to the house. I am going to help Mrs. Murdock settle your sister. Afterward, I was wondering if you might give me a tour of your rooms?” She smiled.

Both boys stared at her, stricken. John said tearfully, “Where is Papa?” But he held out his hand.

Amelia took it, her heart surging. “He is grieving for your mother,” she said softly. How wonderful the small boy’s hand felt in hers. “I believe he went outside because he needed a moment alone.”

John nodded, but William gave her an odd look, as if he wished to say something but knew better. Amelia took his hand as well, leading them toward the governess. “Signor Barelli has already left. I am sure he is waiting for you at the house.”

“We are not having lessons today,” William said firmly. Then, “I should like to see Father.”

Amelia nodded at Mrs. Murdock. The infant was whimpering, as the governess rocked to hush her. The guests ahead of them stepped aside, clearly understanding their need to leave quickly. Amelia smiled at everyone as they passed. “Thank you, Mrs. Harrod,” she said. “Thank you, Squire Penwaithe, for coming today. Hello, Millie. Hello, George. Apparently refreshments will be served shortly in the great hall.” Mrs. Murdock had said as much, but now she wondered if Grenville would even bother to greet his guests.

Her neighbors smiled at her. Millie, a dairymaid, cried, “What a beautiful baby!”

As they left the chapel, Amelia glanced around and realized she was searching for Grenville. By now, he would have returned to the house, but he was not in sight. It had begun to drizzle. The infant started to cry again, this time very loudly.

Amelia took the wailing baby from the governess. “May I? Perhaps I can be of help.” She cradled her close to her chest. It was too cold for the baby to be outside.

“I do hope so. I don’t think she likes me. She knows I am not her natural mother,” Mrs. Murdock exclaimed.

Amelia kept an impassive expression, inwardly sighing. She wished the governess would cease making such disturbing declarations, at least in front of the boys. Then she looked down at the beautiful baby, and she smiled. Her heart warmed. Oh, the little girl was such an angel! “Hush, sweetheart. We are going inside now. No child your age should have to attend a funeral.” She realized she was somewhat angry. The baby should have remained in her nursery, safe and warm; surely she could sense the distress and sorrow in the chapel. But no one had advised Mrs. Murdock. After all, there was no housekeeper, and Grenville had only returned moments before the service had started.

How could he be so negligent?

The infant hiccupped and looked at her. Then she smiled.

Amelia cried out, delighted. “She is smiling! Oh, how pretty she is!”

“Do you have any of your own?” Mrs. Murdock asked.

Amelia felt some of her pleasure vanish. She was too old to marry, and she would never have a child of her own. The knowledge caused some sadness, but she wasn’t about to indulge in self-pity. “No, I do not.” She looked up and saw Lucas and her mother approaching.

Lucas’s mouth softened. “I wondered how long it would take you to put the babe in your arms.” He spoke with affection.

“Oh, what a beautiful child,” Momma said. “Is she your first?”

Amelia sighed. Momma didn’t recognize her, but that was hardly unusual. She introduced her brother and mother to the governess, then turned to Lucas. “Could you take Momma home and then send the carriage back? I am going to stay for a bit. I want to settle the baby and the boys.”

His gaze narrowed. “I know you are merely being kind, but is that wise?”

She did not have a clue as to what he might mean.

He took her arm and steered her a short distance away from the boys. “Grenville seemed rather unhinged.” There was warning in his tone.

“What on earth does that mean? Of course he is grief-stricken. But I am not attending St. Just.” She kept her voice to a whisper. “He is so distraught he left his sons by themselves. Let me get everyone settled, Lucas. I simply must help out.”

He shook his head, but he smiled. “Then you can expect Garrett back in two hours.” His smile faded. “I hope you do not regret this, Amelia.”

Her heart lurched. “Why would I regret helping those small boys? Or this beautiful child?”

He kissed her cheek and they returned to the group. Momma was babbling on about a debut, and Amelia winced as Lucas gently led her away. Mrs. Murdock gave her a wide-eyed look as they started toward the house. “Momma is addled,” Amelia said softly. “It is rare, indeed, when she is coherent and cognizant of her surroundings.”

“I am so sorry,” Mrs. Murdock said.

The huge rosewood door was ahead, set back within the temple entrance of the house. Amelia felt herself tense. It had been ten years since she had set foot within the house.

And suddenly she recalled darting into the library, with Simon in pursuit. She had been laughing, and they had wound up on the sofa in a passionate embrace.

She hesitated inside the high-ceilinged entry hall, a circular room with marble floors, gilded furniture and crystal chandeliers. Did she genuinely wish to go inside?

“Will you really come upstairs?” William asked, jerking her back into the present.

Her heart leaped oddly. It almost felt dangerous, being in Grenville’s house. But she smiled, rocking the infant gently. The children needed her; she had no doubt. “Do you want me to come upstairs?”

“I am happy to show you our suite of rooms,” William said gravely, sounding like an adult.

“I have a soldier,” John announced with pride. “He’s a Prussian infant.”

Amelia smiled as William said, taking John’s hand, “He’s a Prussian infantryman. You can show Miss Greystone all of your soldiers, if she so wishes.” He looked at Amelia, and she saw the eagerness in his eyes.

“I cannot wait,” she said, smiling. And for the first time since she met him, William smiled back.

* * *

THE BABY HAD finally fallen asleep after nursing hungrily, while still in Amelia’s arms. Amelia had no wish to let her go, but she could hardly linger with Elizabeth’s child now. Smiling but saddened, Amelia stood and laid the sleeping infant in her crib, a beautiful affair furnished with white eyelet coverlets. As she covered her tiny body with a white patchwork quilt, she said softly, “She needs a name.”

“You are so good with children!” Mrs. Murdock exclaimed. “I have never seen her nurse as greedily, and the boys adore you when you have only just met!”

Amelia smiled. The boys were playing with the toy soldiers in their rooms. John had shown her every single solider that he had. “She was hungry.”

“No, she loves you already!” The governess sobered. “There has been too much turmoil in this household. I so wish you were not leaving us.”

Amelia started. “I have my own family to attend,” she said, but she wondered if Mrs. Murdock was right. Had the grief and upheaval in the house affected the infant? How could it not? But at least the blue-and-white nursery was a quiet sanctuary for the child. Clearly, Elizabeth had been hoping for another boy.