“Mr. Jeffers took good care of the estate when Uncle passed away, but there was much that fell by the wayside over the past few years.” At Lowenbrock’s frown, she rushed to add, “He wasn’t neglecting his duties. But Uncle was always very generous. We had no way of knowing what the next marquess would see as a frivolous expense, so he was careful not to spend more than was necessary.”
Lowenbrock was silent for a moment before giving a sharp nod. “The man admitted as much to me himself. But it bothers me to hear about people living in poverty.”
“They were taken care of, as I’m sure you already know. But the estate didn’t provide for too many extras. At any rate, you’re here now and things will return to normal.”
“Or as normal as possible with a marquess who has no idea what he’s doing.”
Amelia wanted to protest, but she let the comment go. She’d heard horror stories about nobles running their estates into the ground with gambling debts and excessive spending. She’d seen no sign of either inclination from Lowenbrock. Still, he was clearly feeling overwhelmed by his new responsibilities.
“I think a fair is just what everyone needs. You and me included. When is it to be?”
“Jeffers suggested one week from Saturday. That will give the tenants some time to prepare.”
“And then the ball is next month.”
Lowenbrock let out an exaggerated sigh that had her laughing again.
“Your sisters have replied. They’ll be here before the ball with their husbands but felt the trip would be of too short a duration to bring your nieces and nephews. Your friends will be arriving before them, as will my friend Mary.”
“You can invite anyone you wish. Lord knows we have more than enough room for guests.”
She lifted her shoulder in a slight shrug. “Mary Trenton is my closest friend. And trust me when I say that we will not be lacking for guests.”
Lowenbrock took her statement at face value, and she released a soft breath. She wouldn’t share the fact that Mary was the only one of her acquaintances she trusted around him. Most of them were already married, but she knew that at least one of them, possibly two, would go out of their way to steal his attention for themselves, and that thought bothered her more than a little. There were already a few beautiful, unattached women from the neighborhood who would do whatever it took to attract his attention.
As they finished the rest of their dessert, she told herself her concern stemmed from practicality. When Lowenbrock wed, it was likely his wife would want her to leave Brock Manor. But she was beginning to realize that she thought of Lowenbrock as belonging to her… She’d even had a dream or two where he’d professed his undying devotion to her.
She couldn’t be sure if these feelings were real or if they were wrapped up in the fiction she was writing. She never should have continued with the hero she’d conceived in London when she realized she’d be living under the same room as the man who’d inspired him. The two were muddled in her mind, and while she’d welcome his attention, it was clear that Lowenbrock had no romantic feelings for her.
She excused herself after they finished dinner and returned to her bedroom, her feelings unsettled as she thought about the future. She couldn’t help but believe that everything would change after the ball.
Chapter 16
The morning of the festival arrived, the day overcast and cool even for England. At least it wasn’t raining, John told himself as he waited in the drawing room for Miss Weston. She had arranged for the staff to bring a light meal to their rooms that morning, so he hadn’t seen her yet. He hadn’t realized how much he would miss seeing her across the breakfast table from him.
John shifted his shoulders under the tailcoat his valet had chosen for him that morning. Normally he chafed under the formal attire he was expected to wear at all times, but he was glad of it that morning. The thick wool of the dark brown garment should be enough to keep him warm. He wondered if Amelia would have to wear a cloak. She would catch a chill if she wore one of her morning gowns.
He glanced toward the doorway, wondering how much longer he’d have to wait. As though he’d conjured her from his thoughts, he found her entering the room. He rose swiftly to his feet and couldn’t keep himself from staring at her for several seconds.
He’d always thought she was pretty even with her hair covered and when she wore her spectacles. But in that moment he became painfully aware of the truth. Amelia Weston had been hiding her beauty.
In the time since they’d met, he’d come to know her spirit and liked her as a person. He told himself that he considered her a friend. It was evident though that his feelings for her went far beyond mere friendship. Much as he had tried since coming to live at Brock Manor, he could no longer deny that he was attracted to her.
It had been several weeks since he’d last seen her wearing her glasses. He assumed she only needed them while writing or doing close work. This was the first time, however, that he’d seen her without a lace cap covering her hair.
He’d known that her hair was dark, but seeing it uncovered lent an air of intimacy to their interactions that was unexpected. She wore the dark mass pinned up, of course, but a few curls had been left loose to frame her face. Still, it was a formal style. Seeing her in the deep blue dress that matched her eye color and complemented her light skin tone—far different from the pale dresses she normally wore—he became aware of her in a way that made him more than a little uncomfortable.
That was especially true when he realized he hadn’t been wrong in thinking the woman standing before him now bore a striking resemblance to the one he’d met in the tavern in London, the barmaid who’d captured his attention when he’d first laid eyes on her.
He looked away for a moment to clear his head. Yes, Amelia was similar in appearance to the barmaid Molly, but that could only be a coincidence. He’d thought his memory of that night remained clear, but somewhere along the way he’d superimposed Amelia’s features onto that of the other woman. After all, Amelia had been here in Yorkshire that night, and she didn’t have any sisters.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting. It’s been so long since I’ve been to a fair, and I fear vanity had me taking longer than normal this morning.”
He dipped his head in a formal bow. “It was more than worth the wait.” A light color tinged her cheeks at his compliment, and John couldn’t hold back his smile. He did love teasing her, but his next words were entirely truthful. “You look beautiful, Miss Weston. I hope you won’t be too cold, however.”
She leaned toward him and he found himself watching her expression with great care, wondering at the way her eyes had lit with amusement.
“I’m wearing a few extra layers under my skirts. I should be warm enough once I don my spencer.”