Persuasion

Mrs. Murdock sat down in a large blue-striped chair. “I am surprised that you do not have children of your own, Miss Greystone.”

Amelia felt herself tense. Of course there was dismay, after taking care of that beautiful baby. “I am not married, Mrs. Murdock, and as you have seen, I have my mother to take care of.”

“You could certainly take care of her and a husband,” Mrs. Murdock said. She seemed far too curious for comfort. “You are so pretty, if you do not mind my saying so. How could you be unwed?”

An image of Grenville, so dark and handsome, his stare impossibly direct, came immediately to mind.

Why had he looked at her that way?

And what could she say? That she had fallen foolishly in love with St. Just a decade ago, only to have her heart broken? There had been a few offers afterward, but none had interested her. Very carefully, she said, “There was someone once, long ago. He was not serious, and I was too young to realize it.”

“The cad!” Mrs. Murdock cried.

“Let us leave the subject for now. What’s done is done, after all.” She smiled firmly. “I am glad the boys are playing. I am glad they ate—and I am glad the baby nursed and quieted down. I imagine she will sleep for some time.”

“Thank you so much for your help,” Mrs. Murdock said, standing. But she seemed anxious. “Are you leaving?”

“I have to go.”

She grimaced. “What should I do if he comes here?”

It took Amelia a moment to understand. “Do you mean, if Grenville comes to see his child?”

She wrung her hands. “Maybe he won’t come. He doesn’t seem to like this child.”

“He will love this child, as he does his sons!” Amelia exclaimed, entirely distressed by such an unfounded accusation.

“He frightens me!”

Amelia started, “Mrs. Murdock, he is your employer and the Earl of St. Just. I suppose he is somewhat intimidating—”

The governess cut her off. “He frightens all of us. He frightened her ladyship!”

Amelia stiffened with displeasure. “Mrs. Murdock, I must object to such a discussion. I am sure that Lady Grenville held his lordship in the highest regard, and it was a mutual matter!”

“She changed whenever he was home. She was a happy woman—except when he was in residence. She worried about his returning. She told me how much she worried—she told me that she always seemed to displease him!”

Amelia sat abruptly down. Could this be possible? Could their marriage have been so strained? “I cannot abide gossip,” she finally said. She realized that she wished to defend Grenville. How could he have been displeased with such a wife?

“I am hardly gossiping. I heard them shouting at one another in November—when he returned for Lord William’s birthday. They argued last summer, when he suddenly appeared in town, surprising her so. And she left, within days of his arrival, she was that distraught. She did not want to be in residence with him, Miss Greystone, you may be sure of that. I do not think he cared very much for her, but she was afraid of him, I witnessed that firsthand!”

Amelia’s mind was racing. There was utter confusion. Had Elizabeth Grenville left town because her husband had arrived? Had she wished to avoid him? Had she been afraid of him? But why?

Hadn’t Mrs. Murdock claimed that Grenville was rarely in residence? She hadn’t wanted to believe that. Had there been another woman? She found herself wondering. Why else would he stay away?

As if on the same tangent, Mrs. Murdock lowered her voice. “Lady Grenville never knew where he was. Oh, she told me so herself many times, when she wished to write him and ask him for advice and guidance! Apparently when he stated he was going to the country, he never did. He would claim to be at someone’s estate, but he was never there. It is so odd, don’t you think?”

It certainly sounded as if there was another woman, Amelia thought grimly. But why should she be surprised? Hadn’t he treated her with utter disrespect?

“But perhaps it was all for the best, since he frightened her so with his dark moods and strange ramblings,” Mrs. Murdock said flatly. “We have wondered if he is a bit mad.”

Amelia stood, angered now. But she spoke with calm. “Grenville isn’t a madman. In fact, I do not think it helpful for you to even suggest such a thing!”

“Oh, I did not mean to make you angry. But I am worried about being alone in this house with him!”

“Then you must rein in your thoughts,” Amelia said, quietly furious. “Grenville will hardly murder you in your sleep. I imagine he will be in to see his child within moments.” She tried to soften. “Mrs. Murdock, the man I saw in that chapel was grieving. He was distraught. Perhaps he loved Lady Grenville, in his own way, and you simply misconstrued the nature of their relationship. After all, he would be very preoccupied with his affairs of state. Perhaps, now that she is deceased, you should give his lordship the benefit of the doubt.” Amelia firmly believed that this was all a huge misunderstanding. How could Grenville have not loved his wife?

“He walks in his sleep,” Mrs. Murdock said defensively. “Lady Grenville hated it.”

Amelia stared, speechlessly.

“She decided to move the entire household to Cornwall—when she had never once set foot in this house. How odd is that? Do you think she wanted to escape him, by coming here? That is what we all think!”

“I truly doubt she was fleeing her own husband,” Amelia said grimly. The gossip was too unsettling!

“Why else would she come to Cornwall in her condition—in the winter?” Mrs. Murdock nodded. “It was a very troubled marriage, Miss Greystone.”

Amelia looked down at the sleeping newborn. She didn’t know what to think. “I don’t think you should raise your concerns with anyone else, Mrs. Murdock. Especially not now, with the household in mourning. Such suspicions and doubts no longer matter.”

“You are right,” Mrs. Murdock said. “I wonder what he will do now? His sons—his daughter—need their father. I imagine he will take us with him, wherever he goes.” She seemed unhappy.

“You should hope that is the case, as it would be best for the children.” Amelia was firm. But she returned to the crib and stared down at the sleeping baby. He hadn’t looked at his beautiful daughter, not even once. She had a distinct feeling of dread. Something was certainly wrong. Maybe Mrs. Murdock hadn’t been exaggerating, as she hoped.

“Thank you so much for being so kind,” Mrs. Murdock cried. “Could you possibly call on us?”

Amelia slowly faced her. The nurse was in a state. Tears filled her eyes. She missed her mistress, Amelia thought, and she was afraid of Grenville. And how would Grenville manage? Even if his marriage had been strained, surely he was grieving now. She had seen the anguish in his eyes. “I am at Greystone Manor, a half hour’s ride away if astride. If I can be of further help, send a groom with a message.”

Mrs. Murdock thanked her profusely.

It was time to leave. Picking up her coat, Amelia went to the boys’ rooms to say goodbye, and to promise to visit soon. At least they seemed to have forgotten their grief for the moment, she thought, watching them play with the tiny soldiers. But she was very disturbed as she went down the corridor. She almost wished that she had never had such a conversation with Mrs. Murdock.

As she started downstairs, her tension spiraled impossibly. She did not know where Grenville was. Hopefully he was with his guests and she would slip out of his house unnoticed. They day had been far too trying. She was not up to exchanging greetings now.

She hurried past the second landing, which she believed housed his apartments. Her tension had increased. It was foolish, but she almost seemed to feel his presence, nearby.

As she started down the last flight of stairs, she realized that someone was coming up them. It was a man, his head down, and she recognized him before he looked up and saw her.

She faltered. Her heart slammed.

Grenville halted three or four steps below her, glancing up.

Instantly his gaze locked with hers.

Dread began. How could this be happening? And she knew that her dismay was written all over her face; she wondered if he could hear her thundering heartbeat. But his expression was impossible to read. If he was surprised to see her, she could not tell. And if he was consumed with grief, it was not obvious. His face was a mask of dispassion.

And they were alone on the stairs. She felt trapped.

But then, strangely, his eyes began to gleam.