Partridge and the Peartree (6 page)

Amelia, followed closely by Jeanne, followed him down
the hall to a wide set of doors, which he opened then gestured for
them to precede him. They stepped through the threshold but stopped
in awe.

The Peartree library was nearly as large as most
ballrooms Amelia had seen. Bookshelves covered nearly every inch of
the walls, and each shelf was overflowing with books.

It was Paradise.

"Er, it might be easier to select the books if you
stepped a little closer to them," Phillip murmured from behind
them.

Prodded back to the present, Amelia stepped into the
room. She started to peruse the shelves to the right of the
doorway. Jeanne, more interested in the décor than the books, went
to the left. Phillip followed Amelia.

"The children's books are over here," he said as he
guided her toward the window. She walked with him to the bookshelf,
preparing herself for what she had to say.

"Your Grace—"

"Here are some nice books I enjoyed as a youngster,"
he told her, pulling them off the shelves. He stopped when he
reached a well-worn volume. "This one was my favorite. I'd like to
keep this one — for my own children," he added, casting her a
heated gaze.

Children with Phillip!
What an incredible
thought. She took a deep breath and scrambled to recall the line of
conversation.

"Oh, yes, Your Grace. You must surely keep your
treasured volumes for your own family." She cleared her throat.
"What about some of the adults? Do you know of some easier books or
magazines they might enjoy?"

Phillip turned back to his bookshelves. "Yes, I had
thought about that. I remember some adventure stories my brother
and I enjoyed when we were young. The vocabulary in them might be
easy enough for beginning readers."

Quickly
, she told herself.
Tell him now, before you lose your courage
. "Your Grace, I
have some books I've written myself. I — write love stories. I'm
going to give some of them to some of the women in the group."

The duke said nothing, but he continued to peruse the
books on the shelves.

"I hope you're not appalled at my vocation. I know my
brother would insist I stop if he knew. But I've enjoyed a measure
of success, and I'm actually starting to make some money from sales
of my stories."

"This is not good. I can't believe it."

Not good?
He's not willing to accept my
writing?

"I know I saw those books just last week. Perhaps I
set them aside already."

She didn't understand. Wasn't he going to reply to
her admission? Or was his ignoring it tantamount to a dismissal?
She was used to that. Edward tended to ignore her whenever he
disagreed with her, and her father had done the same. She'd
expected different behavior from Phillip.

She sighed. Well, if that was how he was going to
react, perhaps it was better for her to limit her interaction with
the handsome duke. She'd best be on her way as soon as
possible.

Somehow, she managed to remain cordial as they
finished selecting gifts for the children and their parents. But as
soon as they were finished, she hurried with Jeanne to the door,
not answering his reminder about the Kringles' Christmas Ball.

****

The chapel was abuzz with activity. Garlands of pine,
adorned with flowers and ribbon, cascaded from every wall sconce,
and similar decorations brightened the candelabras on two long
tables. Robert supervised a group of servants carrying in a giant
Christmas tree. Jeanne stood with another group, ready to trim its
branches with colorful garlands.

Amelia stood in the center of the room, directing the
entire production. She didn't look at him, but her senses were all
too aware of Phillip as soon as he entered the room.

"Everything looks lovely, Lady Amelia. I know the
children will be delighted with your efforts," he said near her
ear.

His warm breath sent a delicious shiver down her
spine. Would he always have this effect on her? No. She had to be
strong. If Phillip couldn't accept her as a writer, she couldn't
afford to encourage him.

She took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face
before turning to Phillip. "Thank you, Your Grace. This couldn't
have been done without your generous contributions."

"It was my pleasure," he replied. "Now, how can I be
of assistance?"

"Hmm. Perhaps you could help place the gifts under
the tree." Phillip nodded and set the gaily wrapped packages in
place.

As the light from the windows faded, Robert and
several others lit the candles, casting the room in a soft, magical
glow. All was ready.

The guests started to arrive. Some of them came in
boisterously, excited at the promise of food and gifts. Some came
in timidly, as if expecting to be disappointed. But children and
parents alike gasped with pleasure as they beheld their transformed
schoolroom.

"Mama! Look at the beautiful tree! Just like in the
story Miss Partridge read to us! And there are presents under
it!"

There was a mad rush for the tree, but Amelia stood
in front of it. "Children, there will be plenty of time for gifts
after we've had dinner and a story. Let's take our places at the
table. Parents, please come and sit with us."

Benches scraped the stone floors as they were pulled
back and the families settled themselves. All stared expectantly at
Amelia.

"Welcome, everyone, to our Christmas gala. We have a
marvelous feast for you this evening. But first, perhaps His Grace
would like to offer a word of thanks?"

All heads swerved to Phillip, who had bent to
retrieve a child's spoon that had fallen off the table. Robert,
standing beside him, touched his arm and spoke to him softly.
Phillip started and he cast a terrified glance toward Amelia but
recovered quickly.

"Er, yes, of course." He bowed his head dutifully,
and everyone else in the chapel followed suit. "Thank you, Lord,
for this food we are about to receive. And for — for our friends
all around us this evening. And — and — Christmas. Thank you
especially, for Christmas. Er, Amen."

As the room echoed with a resounding "Amen," a parade
of servants entered, bearing platters of roast goose and mincemeat.
Others carried trays of goblets filled with cider. The food was set
before the stunned guests. Several people looked to Amelia as if
waiting for permission to eat.

"Please enjoy the meal," she insisted.

"But, Miss Partridge, aren't you and the duke goin'
ta eat?" asked one of the adults.

"Of course we will, later. But you're our guests
now."

"Tain't right," insisted another. "We can't eat
before you."

"Oh! Well, all right then," she conceded, taking a
spot between two of her students. "We'll be happy to dine with
you."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Phillip
had taken a spot on the other end of the long table. Good. She
could enjoy her dinner without having to look in those soulful blue
eyes.

Jeanne descended the staircase from her mistress's
chambers. Lady Amelia didn't look ill, but she had decided against
attending the ball tonight. She wouldn't give a reason, but had
sent Jeanne to notify her brother not to wait for her.

The earl was probably in his study. Hopefully, he
wouldn't be angry about Her Ladyship's change of plans. She raised
her hand to knock on the door of the study and nearly leaped out of
her slippers when the earl himself spoke from behind her.

"Miss Brown, is my sister nearly ready?"

Jeanne spun around to dip into a curtsey. "My Lord,
Lady Amelia has decided not to attend the ball. Perhaps you would
like to speak with her?"

"Blasted women," the earl muttered. "One can never
rely on them! I told her I needed her to make an appearance with me
at the Kringles' Christmas Ball. Bartlett will probably be
disappointed, too. It seems he's taken quite an interest in her. I
suppose he's one of the few men who could put up with her chatter
and preposterous ideas, since he can't hear anything she says."

Jeanne's head popped up, and she stared, momentarily
forgetting protocol. "Can't hear, My Lord?"

"Hunting accident at university. His gun misfired,
and he ended up losing most of his hearing. I hear he's a top-notch
lip reader, but if he can't see your face, he doesn't know what
you're saying. Nice fellow. I wouldn't have minded him as a
brother-in-law. But knowing my sister, he's probably better off."
Shaking his head, he called for Marks to have the carriage brought
around.

Jeanne's mind whirled. The day before, when they had
left the duke's home, Lady Amelia had been upset. Jeanne had
thought perhaps Her Ladyship had been unwell, but that hadn't been
the case. The duke was just like all other men in her life, Lady
Amelia had said. When he didn't like something she had said, he had
simply ignored her.

But the duke hadn't been ignoring Lady Amelia. He
simply hadn't heard her! And what had the earl said, about having
the duke as a brother-in-law? Had he asked for her hand? She
whirled around to find her mistress.

She found Amelia in her study, absently staring at a
blank page in her journal.

"My Lady! Please forgive me for intruding, but I must
share something His Lordship told me." Quickly, she relayed her
conversation with the earl.

****

Amelia gasped, suddenly understanding the reason
Phillip hadn't responded to her confession the day before. He'd
been facing away from her when she'd told him. He hadn't ignored
her! How could she have misjudged him so badly?

It all made sense now. The times when he'd seemed
distracted, and she'd had to repeat what she said. The way he
watched her carefully whenever she talked. The way Robert and
Desiree always touched his shoulder lightly and waited until they
had Phillip's attention before speaking. She'd thought he didn't
approve of her writing career, but he simply hadn't heard her.

She had to get to the ball, quickly.

"Jeanne, have Marks summon a carriage, and then come
back here to help me get dressed."

"Yes, my lady. Right away."

Amelia was half dressed by the time the servant
returned. If she'd had her way, she wouldn't have done anything to
her hair. But Jeanne reminded her the carriage would take a few
minutes to arrive, so she'd impatiently submitted to her maid's
primping and arranging.

The moment the butler announced the carriage was
ready, she flung her cape over her shoulder and nearly flew down
the stairs to the marble tiled foyer. A hastily summoned Giles
barely had time to stuff his hat on his head as he hurried to
accompany her.

****

Phillip took another pastry from a passing waiter's
tray. He paced, partly to keep his mind off his nervousness, and
partly to keep from being stopped by every matron with a
marriageable daughter. A part of him was flattered. But there was
only one with whom he wished to share his title.

Where the devil is she?
Colorful gowns swirled
all around him, and beautiful women descended the staircase, but he
didn't notice any of them. He searched the faces of the guests as
they arrived, but the one he needed to see wasn't among them. Was
there some problem at Sudbury House?

Last night at the children's Christmas party, she'd
been a wonderful hostess. After the dinner, she'd gathered the
children around her and read the Christmas Story from the Book of
Matthew. And then she'd reminded them of their manners before
handing out their gifts. The children, as well as their parents,
had appreciated the books.

He noted several heads turning toward the staircase.
A new arrival must have been announced. He turned, and his spirits
lifted. Amelia's brother, Edward Partridge appeared at the top of
the stairs. Amelia should be right behind him. His heart beat
faster as he waited.

But the earl descended the stairs alone. His heart
stopped for a moment.

Where was Amelia? Had she decided to come later, by
herself? It would go against convention, but his Amelia wasn't one
to follow the rules. Perhaps he'd better speak to Edward.

He made his way to the earl, who, now that he was no
longer betrothed to the Dragon Lady, was a commodity among the
unmarried ladies of the
ton
. Edward was surrounded by the
mamas of available women, and Phillip had to wait his turn. Some of
the mamas cast a welcome toward the duke, and he did his best to
greet them properly. He finally reached the earl.

"Sudbury."

Edward turned around and executed a small bow. "Good
evening, Your Grace. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too. Er, has your sister
arrived?"

"Amelia? No, she has apparently come down with some
sort of affliction. Her maid told me she didn't feel well enough to
come. She sends her regrets."

"I… see. I trust she recovers soon."

Phillip backed away. What would he do now? He had no
desire to stay and socialize with anyone else. Parties held no
appeal for him without Amelia there. With her, he felt like
celebrating. She had seemed healthy this afternoon. What could have
happened to her? He wanted to ask, but Edward was already in
conversation with someone else. But Phillip could see Edward's
mouth and easily deciphered the earl's words.

"Of course, Amelia never was one for parties and
dressing up and such. My mother had an awful time getting her to
cooperate during her season. She finally had to give up when Amelia
told her in no uncertain terms she had no intention of getting
married." Edward paused. "Of course, I thought perhaps she might
have been interested in Bartlett."

Might have been?

"Well, she had been looking more…girlish, lately. You
know, with the hair and the lace and such. She behaved like a young
girl. But today she came down to breakfast in one of her drab old
frocks. It was almost like she was in mourning."