observable interest?”
“Observable? Why on earth need it be observable, Amelia?” Louisa asked.
Amelia smoothed her muslin skirts and lifted her gaze to her cousin. “For the most simple of reasons, Louisa. If it is not observable, how am I to know if I have gained his interest? I can hardly read his thoughts.”
“At certain times more than others it is quite possible to read a man’s thoughts,” Louisa said with another faint blush staining her throat.
Tea and cakes were brought in just then, which resulted in Louisa busying herself with serving and Amelia busying herself with smiling pleasantly as she accepted her cup and plate. Once the servants were out of the room, they resumed their conversation.
“Certainly there is more to it than that, Louisa. There must be. A man may think very much, yet do very little. Or may do the wrong thing altogether and then,” Amelia said, shrugging, “nothing.”
“Surely not nothing ,” Louisa said, leaning forward, her tea and cake entirely forgotten.
“Very nearly nothing. I could even find myself ruined.”
“You don’t sound very nervous about it, I must say,” Louisa said.
“Don’t I? But of course I am. I thought that was perfectly obvious.”
“I still don’t see how you can find yourself ruined by a man who does nothing. Are we talking about a specific man? What have you been hiding from me, Amelia? I’ve never seen you with any man, doing nothing or not. Or is it that some man has done the wrong thing? Have I got it all turned round?”
“But of course not. There is no man. There is no nothing . I was only speculating on how difficult it is to find the right man who will do the right thing. Before Lord Henry Blakesley dragged you off into that closet, you were quite of the same mind. I remember that most clearly.”
Louisa eyed her curiously in response, to which Amelia smiled blandly and stirred her tea. It was quite a nuisance that Louisa had suddenly started to pay attention in a conversation that was not entirely about her. An air of innocence was what was required in circumstances such as these, and Amelia had quite a lot of practice at innocence. Or at least the appearance of it, which was more important than actually being innocent, wasn’t it?
THE Earl of Cranleigh came upon Lady Amelia Caversham in the foyer of Hyde House. She looked innocent, as was her habit. He knew she was not.
She looked fresh and flushed, bright and smooth, her hair glossy and shining with health and good soap, her cheeks soft as goose down. It was perfectly typical of her. She was wearing white with a green design and her eyes looked particularly blue at the moment.
He was not cheered to see her, which he hoped was obvious to her.
He was well aware that she was in Hyde House to see Iveston, the heir apparent and the unattainable prize of every woman of good family and good teeth for the past ten Seasons. Hard luck for Amelia that she had stumbled upon him instead of Iveston. He wasn’t an heir apparent, was he? She would have hardly any use for him at all.
“Lady Amelia,” he said, bowing to her.
“Lord Cranleigh,” she said, making a very pretty and entirely proper curtsey. She had acquired the habit somewhere, likely in the same field where she had acquired perpetual innocence, of looking nearly perfect at any given moment. Naturally, as the daughter of a duke, this was to be expected. The thing was, she did it better than anyone else. It was most annoying. Calculated perfection was a thing not to be desired. If he were on easy terms with her, he would tell her just that. But he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t. What he would do was keep her away from Iveston. Iveston she could not have, no matter how she had perfected perfection.
Hell and blast. That sounded idiotic, but he knew it made sense. Perfect sense.
“What a surprise to see you, Lord Cranleigh,” she said, her gaze raking him from his boots to his collar. If seeing him were a
“Observable? Why on earth need it be observable, Amelia?” Louisa asked.
Amelia smoothed her muslin skirts and lifted her gaze to her cousin. “For the most simple of reasons, Louisa. If it is not observable, how am I to know if I have gained his interest? I can hardly read his thoughts.”
“At certain times more than others it is quite possible to read a man’s thoughts,” Louisa said with another faint blush staining her throat.
Tea and cakes were brought in just then, which resulted in Louisa busying herself with serving and Amelia busying herself with smiling pleasantly as she accepted her cup and plate. Once the servants were out of the room, they resumed their conversation.
“Certainly there is more to it than that, Louisa. There must be. A man may think very much, yet do very little. Or may do the wrong thing altogether and then,” Amelia said, shrugging, “nothing.”
“Surely not nothing ,” Louisa said, leaning forward, her tea and cake entirely forgotten.
“Very nearly nothing. I could even find myself ruined.”
“You don’t sound very nervous about it, I must say,” Louisa said.
“Don’t I? But of course I am. I thought that was perfectly obvious.”
“I still don’t see how you can find yourself ruined by a man who does nothing. Are we talking about a specific man? What have you been hiding from me, Amelia? I’ve never seen you with any man, doing nothing or not. Or is it that some man has done the wrong thing? Have I got it all turned round?”
“But of course not. There is no man. There is no nothing . I was only speculating on how difficult it is to find the right man who will do the right thing. Before Lord Henry Blakesley dragged you off into that closet, you were quite of the same mind. I remember that most clearly.”
Louisa eyed her curiously in response, to which Amelia smiled blandly and stirred her tea. It was quite a nuisance that Louisa had suddenly started to pay attention in a conversation that was not entirely about her. An air of innocence was what was required in circumstances such as these, and Amelia had quite a lot of practice at innocence. Or at least the appearance of it, which was more important than actually being innocent, wasn’t it?
THE Earl of Cranleigh came upon Lady Amelia Caversham in the foyer of Hyde House. She looked innocent, as was her habit. He knew she was not.
She looked fresh and flushed, bright and smooth, her hair glossy and shining with health and good soap, her cheeks soft as goose down. It was perfectly typical of her. She was wearing white with a green design and her eyes looked particularly blue at the moment.
He was not cheered to see her, which he hoped was obvious to her.
He was well aware that she was in Hyde House to see Iveston, the heir apparent and the unattainable prize of every woman of good family and good teeth for the past ten Seasons. Hard luck for Amelia that she had stumbled upon him instead of Iveston. He wasn’t an heir apparent, was he? She would have hardly any use for him at all.
“Lady Amelia,” he said, bowing to her.
“Lord Cranleigh,” she said, making a very pretty and entirely proper curtsey. She had acquired the habit somewhere, likely in the same field where she had acquired perpetual innocence, of looking nearly perfect at any given moment. Naturally, as the daughter of a duke, this was to be expected. The thing was, she did it better than anyone else. It was most annoying. Calculated perfection was a thing not to be desired. If he were on easy terms with her, he would tell her just that. But he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t. What he would do was keep her away from Iveston. Iveston she could not have, no matter how she had perfected perfection.
Hell and blast. That sounded idiotic, but he knew it made sense. Perfect sense.
“What a surprise to see you, Lord Cranleigh,” she said, her gaze raking him from his boots to his collar. If seeing him were a