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Authors: Michelle Willingham

Tags: #Historical romance, #Fiction, #Regency

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BOOK: Undressed by the Earl
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Lady
Christine,” the girl corrected, as if trying to behave like a princess.

“Your stepmother can call you whatever she wishes,” the earl intervened. “And I’m certain you will like one another a great deal.”

When cats swim underwater
, Amelia thought. No, this was going to take more time than she’d expected.

With one hand, Lord Castledon reached up and touched the top of his daughter’s head as if measuring her height. Then he squeezed Christine in a light hug. “You’ve grown so tall in the past few months,” he admitted.

“I missed you, Papa.” The wistful longing on the child’s face reminded Amelia of herself as a girl, when her father had gone off to war. Henry Andrews had been away for so many years, she’d felt all but abandoned.

“Soon enough, you’ll have to learn how to be a lady. Amelia can help you with that.” He smiled at her, but Christine’s answering smile was strained.

“Papa, will you come and eat supper with me in the nursery this evening?” Christine pleaded.

“I think it would be better if you dined with us downstairs,” her father said. “You’re old enough to begin learning proper behavior and manners among adults.” He continued down the hallway and opened a door.

Inside, the air smelled musty, like a grandmother’s trunk. It was clear that the bedroom hadn’t been used in many years. “I’ll have our housekeeper, Mrs. Menford, prepare this room for you.” He sent Amelia a slight smile, as if to apologize for the room he’d given her in London.

“Is your room at the far end of the hall?” She wondered if he was intending to continue their physical separation at night or whether he was willing to attempt a true marriage.

“No. It’s not far from yours,” he admitted. The sudden flare in his eyes gave her a reason to hope, and it was a small victory.

After the stolen moment in the coach last night, he hadn’t spoken a word. But the way he was looking at her now suggested that he
did
intend to share her bed again.

Something deep inside Amelia stirred, for it meant he was giving them a chance. Maybe, just maybe, she might have the happy ending she wanted.

Chapter
T
en

I
would like to arrange a special supper for tonight,” Amelia said to the housekeeper, Mrs. Menford.

The older woman’s hair was pulled back in a severe chignon, and streaks of gray lined the edges. Her dress was a dark navy blue, and she wore a starched cap. The housekeeper appeared beleaguered by the request, as if she was not in any way inclined to obey.

“My lady, I need more than a few hours to prepare a special meal,” Mrs. Menford said. The tone in her voice was patronizing, as if Amelia weren’t aware of the necessary arrangements.

“His Lordship did not send word of his impending arrival, nor yours. We are all at sixes and sevens already. A special meal would simply be too much to ask of my kitchen maids.”

Amelia thought back to her own housekeeper, Mrs. Larson. The Scotswoman loved nothing more than to put together a spontaneous gathering. She’d been able to conjure a large meal out of very little and had never hesitated to produce a feast out of a famine.

“We can have the meal a little later tonight, if you need to send the servants out for more food.” It was more than reasonable, Amelia thought. “But I do think we should try to make a celebration, if we can.”

After all, it wasn’t every day that the lord of the household got married. She couldn’t imagine why the woman was so unwilling to prepare a good meal.

But the housekeeper only sighed and shook her head. “Forgive me, my lady, but I know that you are new to this household and cannot understand how things are done here at Castledon.”

A sliver of anger threaded down Amelia’s spine. The woman was behaving as if she had no inkling of how to manage an earl’s household. Wasn’t she the daughter of a baron? Her mother and sisters had taught her the necessities, ever since she was a young girl. The woman’s remarks were completely inappropriate.

“While I appreciate your suggestion,” the housekeeper continued, “I must admit that—”

“Do you wish to keep your position as housekeeper at Castledon?” Amelia interrupted. Although she kept her fury in check, inwardly she was on the verge of losing her temper. Yes, she was young. Yes, this was her first household to manage. But she also knew that the housekeeper had no right to question her wishes—it was her duty to carry them out without argument. Mrs. Larson would never dare to go against Beatrice’s orders. It was unheard of. For this woman to question her orders on the very first day was not a good sign.

“I—well, of course, my lady.” The older woman’s face paled as if she’d never expected such a response.

Amelia kept her face emotionless. “My husband and I have been traveling for several days. Asking you to arrange a good meal for our family is not beyond your abilities, I should hope. If you find it an unnecessary burden, then perhaps you should find employment elsewhere.”

“I will speak with the cook, my lady.” The woman’s mouth tightened, but at least she had backed down. The rigid cast to her face suggested that she was holding back anger of her own.

“Very good. And please have her prepare a dessert of some kind. A tart or a cake, if you would,” Amelia said. Though she knew Lord Castledon disliked sweets, likely his daughter would enjoy it.

The housekeeper looked as if she wanted to argue, but this time she held her tongue. “As you wish.”

Amelia thanked her and left, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassment. Although it was unwise to make enemies among the servants this early, there was nothing to be done about it. Margaret would likely have dismissed Mrs. Menford on the spot. Perhaps she should have done the same, but Lord Castledon had asked her not to make too many changes. Firing the housekeeper certainly fell into that category.

Amelia’s stomach twisted over what she’d done, and she decided to seek out her husband for advice. Or at least he might be able to tell her if the housekeeper was ordinarily so contemptuous.

After asking several footmen, she found the earl in the conservatory. He was standing in front of a pianoforte, idly tracing the edge of the wood.

“May I speak with you a moment?” she asked quietly, closing the door behind her.

He glanced up, but his expression spoke of a man distracted. His hair was rumpled as if he’d run his hands through it a moment earlier. “Of course. Is something wrong with Christine?”

Amelia shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her since earlier today.” It wouldn’t surprise her if the girl was plotting with Mrs. Menford on how to overthrow her.

“I thought the two of you would spend time getting acquainted.” He frowned, as if he’d anticipated that they would become immediate best friends. Amelia wasn’t certain if he was aware of Christine’s animosity and decided not to mention it.

“There will be time enough for that later,” she assured him. “I needed to meet the household staff and make arrangements for our meal tonight.”

His shoulders lowered, and he appeared no longer concerned. “Mrs. Menford has everything well in hand. You don’t have to trouble yourself about anything. She’s run the household ever since I was a small boy.”

Terrorized the household, more likely
, Amelia thought, but didn’t say so. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. She’s already questioning my orders, treating me like a little girl who doesn’t know how to manage an estate. It concerns me, and I’d like for you to support me in this.”

The earl moved forward and shrugged. “Give her some time to adjust to your wishes. I’m certain it will all turn out well, for she never had any trouble with Katherine. The pair of them got along with no trouble at all, and so will you.”

In other words,
Amelia
was the problem, and the earl saw no reason to interfere. For a moment, she was so dismayed by his lack of a response that she hardly knew what to say.

“I asked her to have the cook prepare a special meal for all of us tonight, to celebrate your homecoming and for Christine. She acted as if it was a great inconvenience and out of the question.”

“We
did
arrive with no warning,” he admitted. “In a day or two, I imagine everything will settle down.” He reached out and touched the back of her neck. “Don’t let it bother you, Amelia.” Then he lowered his mouth to her throat, sending a spiral of desire through her. The gesture of affection caught her off guard, but then she realized he was trying to sweeten her up.

It didn’t seem to concern him at all that the servants weren’t listening to her. Did he not realize that housekeepers were not supposed to behave like army generals?

She leaned forward to rest her cheek against his shirt. “I know my duties, Lord Castledon. My mother saw to it that all of us were prepared to run a household.” And she knew that a housekeeper who disobeyed orders on the first day could not remain here long.

His hand touched her spine. “Everything will be fine,” was all he said. Dismay filled her, for he seemed unaware of the true problem. She straightened, realizing that this issue was hers to solve.

Pulling away from him, she bid him a good afternoon. “I will see you tonight.”

“Tell Christine I expect her to be kind to you.” He smiled, and Amelia didn’t correct his assumption. She wasn’t about to seek out a second person who didn’t like her.

If she did that, she’d start to doubt every decision she made. It was time to retreat, to make plans, and find all the reasons to be thankful. She would
not
weep or behave as if the world had dealt her a bad hand of cards. She simply had to reevaluate her circumstances and make the most of them.

Even if no one really wanted her here.

“You married the wrong woman, Papa.”

Christine closed the door behind her, and David was startled by his daughter’s proclamation. “You’ve only just met her,” he responded. Although Amelia was young and inexperienced, she needed more than a day to get adjusted to life as a countess.

“Why would you say I married the wrong woman?” he asked, opening his arms to his daughter. “You said you wanted a new mother.”

Christine came to sit upon his knee, and her gray eyes remained quite serious. “I wanted one much older. Someone like Miss Grant, someone who understands me.”

David had no interest in marrying her governess and had never even considered it. Although Miss Grant was a decent enough woman, she’d given Christine too much freedom.

“Miss Grant resigned her post as your governess several weeks ago. The last I heard, she was going to marry someone else.”

“But she could change her mind,” Christine insisted. “If you would ask her, she’d say no to that other man.”

“I’m not going to ask Miss Grant to marry me,” he told her firmly. “I’ve already married Amelia Andrews, and she will do well enough as your stepmother.”

His daughter looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon. “You’re wrong, Papa.”

“I think you should give Amelia a chance. She’s a lovely young woman. Quite amusing, actually.”

Though he told his daughter stories about the board game he’d played with Amelia and her sister, his thoughts turned to another type of amusement. She’d startled him last night in the coach by seducing him. That encounter had only awakened his hunger more, making him crave her body.

She was dangerous to his life, like a siren who wove her spell around him. Sharing her bed once in a while was acceptable, but not every night. He preferred to keep their marriage as an amiable friendship, one that never dared to trespass beyond that boundary.

“You should have consulted me before you wed her,” Christine said. “She looks like the sort of stepmother who would lock me in my room.”

David bit back a laugh. “She isn’t that bad.”

“She
is
,” Christine insisted, keeping her voice in a whisper. “I overheard her telling one of the maids that she planned to get rid of me as soon as you’re gone.” Her face held all the drama of an actress on the stage. “You won’t let her do that, will you? Please say you’ll send her away.”

“You’re making up stories about someone you don’t even know,” David chided. “Give her a chance, Christine.”

His daughter shook her head. “I can’t, Papa. When I returned from my walk in the gardens earlier, I saw Lady Castledon leaving my room. Why would she have been in my room?”

“Enough of this. You’re being ridiculous, and I’m certain Amelia had a good reason. She likely was looking for you so the pair of you could get to know one another.”

“She was searching through my belongings,” his daughter insisted. “I believe that.”

“Well, I don’t.” He eased her off his lap and took her by the hand. “Now go and change for supper. I expect you to be there, and you will be on your best behavior.”

A sullen expression came over her face. “Why can’t it just be us? I haven’t seen you in months.”

God save him from petulant daughters. “Go on. I will see you later.” Without waiting for her to reply, he closed the door. After waiting long enough to be sure that she’d gone, he left the conservatory in search of Amelia.

None of the servants had seen her anywhere, or if they had, they’d refused to say so. When he couldn’t find her, he went to her room, hoping to see her there.

Already he could see that she’d taken down the old brown drapes and let more light into the room. She’d chosen a sage green bedcover, and she’d put away many of the trinkets Katherine had been fond of. The room appeared clean and inviting, though more Spartan than it had once been.

He walked over to her writing desk, where he spied dozens of scraps of paper with lists. Most of them were incomprehensible notes like:
Shutters? Green drapes or rose?
Likely these were her ideas about redecorating the room, which he’d given her leave to change.

When he walked to Amelia’s window, it was then that he spied her outside. She was walking with a basket over one arm, and he realized she’d gone into the gardens, since the basket was overflowing with roses and other blossoms he didn’t recognize.

David stepped upon a crumpled piece of paper, and when he picked it up, he saw another list titled
Thankful
.

A place to live

Enough food to eat

A husband who isn’t a troll

The last one made him smile. A troll? At least she’d admitted that he wasn’t one. But as he read farther down the page, he saw another list titled
Problems
. First on the list, she’d written Mrs. Menford’s name. Second was Christine.

The thought was sobering, for he’d wanted his wife and daughter to get along. Christine’s earlier complaints were unreasonable, along with her desire for him to wed her governess. Not to mention her overblown ideas about Amelia being cruel. Honestly, did she really believe Amelia would lock her away? The idea was laughable, for his wife was the kindest person he’d met.

But his daughter’s resentment was real, and David didn’t know how to solve the problem.

He turned the scrap of paper over and was startled to see a sketch of a ladies’ undergarment. Amelia had written
purple with lace
beside the drawing.

He thought back to the undergarments she’d worn on their wedding night. Sensual and seductive, he’d reveled in touching the silk against skin. Never before had he seen anything like them, but seeing Amelia bared in such a way had invited him to pleasure her.

BOOK: Undressed by the Earl
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