The Spymaster's Men: Persuasion Part 10

He gave her a dark look. "May I come in? My intention is not to make you uncomfortable."

"You are doing just that," she said tersely.

Slowly, he smiled. "Perhaps it is my presence, not the topic of conversation, that is so disturbing?"

She bit her lip. He was correct. She hated being caught in such dishabille, as if a mere domestic, and her heart was pounding wildly in response to his powerful presence. "Had I known you meant to call, I would have prepared tea," she said tartly.

He smiled, and the smile lightened his eyes. "I would love to have tea with you." She was dismayed, as she had nothing to offer him as an additional refreshment. He added, "But as that would require you to light a fire and boil water, steep the bags, set a tray and deprive me, in general, of your company for some time, I will decline the offer."

Her relief was immediate. He knew, she thought. He was being kind.

His gaze searched hers, half of a smile remaining.

Ten years ago, he had also been kind. He had brought her too many gifts to count when calling or shopping. When she had worried about Momma, he had listened. When she had complained about Julianne, who was wont to shirk her duties, he had advised her. When she had been angry with Lucas, for his stance against them, he had been calm and sensible. Mostly, though, she had been grateful that he had always pretended that he did not notice the vast difference of economy and cla.s.s which existed between them.

"I am being rude. I do not mind making tea," she said slowly. What was he doing there?

"I had tea before I left the house. However, I will sit with you if you wish to take some."

She shook her head, relieved all over again. "Please. Come in."

He smiled briefly at her and walked into the great hall. "Is Lucas here?" he asked.

"Lucas left for town, immediately after the funeral."

He seemed to accept that. He laid his hand on the piano. "This is new."

"The dowager Countess of Bedford bought it for Julianne."

"That was nice of her."

Would they go around and around like this, being excessively polite with one another? Amelia asked, very carefully, "So is this simply a neighborly social call?"

"No, it is not." He faced her, seeming chagrined. "I wish to apologize a second time."

She started. "For your behavior yesterday?"

"Yes. I was a boor, once again. But I can claim, in self-defense, that I was feeling rather poorly."

She smiled. "You do realize that I also owe you an apology?"

And he smiled. "I will not accept it."

"Why ever not?" she cried.

"Because I needed to be set down. You were right. My behavior had been entirely selfish and self-serving."

Amelia was in disbelief.

"You are gaping," he said mildly.

And his tone was so pleasant that her heart slammed. Desire, running just beneath the surface, crested. I still love him, she thought, and in that instant, she was horrified. Shocked by such a treacherous thought, Amelia turned away. She was not in love with Grenville. It was impossible.

"Amelia? Have I upset you?"

His tone continued to be mild and pleasant. She whirled and forced a smile. "Of course not. How are the children faring?"

She saw his expression close, but he said, calmly, "The boys seem to be doing a bit better. When we return to London, I am going to purchase a Connemara pony for John. I am fond of the breed," he added. "William wishes to enter his first fencing tourney. He has been fencing for some time. I am also buying him his own yacht."

When was he returning to London? And why was she so utterly dismayed? "I am sure they will be thrilled with such gifts." She hesitated.

"You disapprove."

"Spoiling them won't bring back their mother."

"No, it will not." His gaze met hers and held it.

She did not blame him for wanting to shower the boys with gifts. But what about his daughter? "Have you named her yet?"

"No." His tone was hard. He turned his back on her and paced slowly. He paused before the pair of crimson chairs. "I thought the mine was doing well, and iron is very profitable ore."

He was changing the subject. But his daughter needed a name-and a father! She was shocked. "You know how successfully Lucas manages the estate. I believe the mine and quarry are doing very well. But these are difficult times. It would be foolish to spend our income, especially with prices so inflated by the war."

He faced her. "The house needs maintenance, Amelia, whether we are at war or not."

He was right, but that was not the subject she wished to digress upon. "Simon, I remain concerned about your children."

He walked back over to her, and took the duster from her. Their hands brushed and she shivered. He did not seem to notice the minimal contact, and she watched in some despair as he laid the duster in a corner by one window. "I will never be accustomed to seeing you houseclean."

"Someone must do it."

His gaze moved over her features, far too slowly. He said, casually, "I would like to make you an offer, Amelia-a proposition, so to speak-but I do not want you to be insulted."

She stared in surprise-she had not expected such a declaration. An oddly enigmatic expression was on Grenville's face, and she could not discern his thoughts or feelings. What could he possibly suggest?

And suddenly she had the wild notion that he meant to ask her to be his mistress.

A dozen heated images flashed through her mind.

Would she dare accept such a proposal?

"I need a housekeeper," he said, slowly.

"I beg your pardon?" she said, barely able to speak.

"I am in rather desperate need of a housekeeper. I am constantly in the north, where I have some very large, successful estates, and I intend to keep my sons in London-town is best for them. They hardly need to travel as frequently as I do. Elizabeth actually managed the household. She was very involved in both boys' daily activities. I need someone to manage the household as she did, and supervise their daily care."

Amelia was reeling. He wanted to hire her as his housekeeper.

And she had a.s.sumed he wanted her in his bed!

"I need someone I can trust, Amelia."

She managed to meet his dark, steady gaze. She felt as if he had just stabbed her in the heart. My G.o.d, she was almost insulted.

Yet she should not be insulted to be asked to be a highly placed, well-paid housekeeper. She was an impoverished gentlewoman. The position was low, but not entirely beneath her. She certainly needed the income.

But she was insulted. Terribly so!

"Are you going to refuse me?" he asked, very carefully.

She felt her cheeks flame. "I can hardly accept such an offer."

"I meant it when I said I do not mean to insult you."

She folded her arms. "I have my own home-my own family-to manage!"

"I have heard that Lucas is removing you and your mother to town, and that you are closing up this house. Of course, I have room for your mother in my Mayfair home."

All she could think of was Simon, taking her into his arms. "I do not think I can accept," she said.

"Amelia, I need your help," he said swiftly. "My boys need someone like you in their life. Even that child-she has no one. And if it eases your mind, I travel frequently to my various estates, so we will hardly be in residence together-or, at least not often." His stare was intense.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that even I am in some doubt as to my trustworthiness. We both know how I have behaved around you. Is that why you are hesitating? I hold you in the highest regard-I always have."

And she wanted to cry, "You left without a word." Shocked at the sudden return of that old heartbreak, she stared.

"You and your mother will lack for naught. You will be in town-and you will have every opportunity to visit your sister and brother. I do not expect you to behave as the usual housekeeper. We will plan a schedule, one that suits your every need," he said firmly. "I am not going to be denied."

And Amelia knew he was not going to let her refuse. And she also realized exactly what his offer meant-a lucrative position in London, where she would not have to worry about the war, or enemy soldiers, or spies or a.s.sa.s.sins. She would not have to worry about a French invasion. There would be no worry about putting the next meal on the table. Her only worry would be just how to care for his children.

But there was far more to worry about than that. How would she manage her own confusion in regards to the past that they shared? And what about the attraction that simmered between them?

But Momma would be safe. And the boys needed her. His daughter needed her!

"I see you are, finally, intrigued." A hard light filled his eyes.

"Yes, I am intrigued. Your children-all three of them-have intrigued me from the moment we met."

His smile vanished. "I am aware of that."

"She is your daughter, Grenville. Why haven't you named her? You have seen her, haven't you? How can you not have fallen absolutely in love with her?"

He looked mutely at her, folding his arms across his chest. He finally said, "I do not love her and I do not care what she is named."

"You do not love her!"

He inhaled. "You will learn the truth sooner or later. She is not mine."

Amelia cried out. The gossip was true? She prayed not! "Surely that is not true-surely you do not believe such a thing!"

"The b.a.s.t.a.r.d is not mine."

She was stricken with dismay. "You cannot be certain," she began.

And he gave her a dark look. "Oh, I am certain! She cannot be mine, Amelia. It is impossible."

And Amelia began to understand.

With an expression of revulsion, he said, "I haven't been in Elizabeth's bed since John was conceived."

Amelia could barely believe what he was telling her. He hadn't had relations with his wife in years! She could not look away from his dark, blazing regard.

"Well?" he demanded.

She whispered, "I'll do it."

And his smile was hard and satisfied.

CHAPTER SIX.

"OH, ARE WE FINALLY stopping for the evening?" Mrs. Murdock cried hopefully.

Amelia held the baby in her arms, helping her to nurse from a teat. She was seated beside her mother, facing the governess and Garrett in the smaller of the three pa.s.senger vehicles they were taking to town. Grenville and his sons were in the coach just ahead of them. Signor Barelli, Lloyd and the cook were in another carriage. Their belongings followed in two wagons.

They had been traveling since shortly after sunrise, and it was almost dark now. It had taken Grenville three days to prepare his household for the journey to London; in that time, Amelia had stayed as far from St. Just Hall as possible. From the moment she had agreed to become his housekeeper, she had been filled with confusion and uncertainty.

Only a very foolish woman would think that taking this position was a good idea. The past remained a divisive issue looming between them. Even if he retreated into formality and never acknowledged their history again, could she do the same thing?

Momma, however, was thrilled to be undertaking the adventure. She had been quite lucid for the past few days. Amelia had explained the situation to her-Momma chose to believe that they would be the Earl of St. Just's guests for the season. "He must be courting you, Amelia, to extend such an invitation!" she had cried.

Amelia had decided not to answer.

Now, she held the baby close and strained to glance out of her window. A cheerful inn with white stucco walls was ahead, smoke coming from both red chimneys. They had reached the outskirts of Bodmin, and the oak trees were huge and green, with ivy creeping over the inn's whitewashed walls. Roses spilled over the wood fence in the courtyard; sheep milled about an adjacent field, crisscrossed with stone walls. The setting sun stained the sky with its mauve fingers. It was so picturesque, but Amelia was not charmed.

In another moment, she and Grenville would be face-to-face. There was no denying that the prospect affected her greatly. Her position as his housekeeper felt awkward and unnatural.

She had not seen him since he had called on her at Greystone Manor, except briefly that morning. In the past three days, he had sent her lists and a note which apprised her of their intended departure date. There had been no word about her new role as housekeeper, when she had expected to have several conversations about her employment. She supposed they would sit down in his library upon reaching London, to hash out the details then.

He had sent their coach to the manor to pick her, Momma and Garrett up at dawn that morning. They had met with St. Just and the rest of his entourage on the highway outside of Penzance. He had alighted from his coach, but his greeting had been polite and perfunctory. Then he had vanished back into his coach and the convoy had set off for London. Amelia had been shaken by the encounter.