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Amelia sighed, hanging her head for a moment before glancing back up at Charlotte.

“I will not lie to you. I would never, but…this is not a truth I wish to speak. I am conflicted. I…The Duke is…ugh.”

The air rushed from Amelia’s lungs, and she slumped back against the wall. Molding along the chair rail dug into her spine, but she was perfectly content to let it press into her.

“You don’t wish for him to leave anymore, do you?”

Amelia looked straight ahead. “I don’t. I…do. I’m not sure. We…”

She glanced over her shoulder at her friend, who leaned back against the wall next to her. Charlotte smiled gently, her light eyes soft as the bouncy yellow curls piled atop her head.

“We had an encounter this previous evening. He is…intriguing, to say the least.”

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open in a surprised O-shape, and Amelia rolled her eyes, scoffing lightly at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

“Oh, I see. So it would be fair to assume that you have a…desire for your husband, then.”

“Unfortunately.” Amelia returned her gaze to the wall across from her. “Though he still infuriates me to no end.”

“The mind and body can often be at odds, Amelia. It is not unheard of to find someone attractive but never wish to spend a single moment with them. Think of my own notion of rakes. I can see an attractive face, but I cannot stand their type.”

Amelia nodded, understanding more than ever that it was quite possible to both want to be alone with someone and also to throttle them.

“Still, this goes far beyond a superficial infatuation. You mustn’t allow your husband, who has been absent all these long years, to destroy what you’ve built here. Do you not remember how lost and alone you were when you were first wed? It would certainly not leave my mind, Amelia. The ton was unkind with their polite yet snide remarks, and despite all that, you have managed and even created a safe space for yourself.”

The words hit the Duchess like a slap, but she saw the logic and care behind Charlotte’s advice.

“I only wish for you to be happy, Amelia. But do think of the freedom of kind you’ll have if you are indeed successful at driving the Duke from Heartwick. This is a passing thing—unless there is still more you have left unsaid—and in the long term, it is your freedom, your ability to live as you have, that will grant you ongoing happiness.”

Words and doubt and desire and frustration gnawed at Amelia; she was the bone to a hungry mutt. Knowing precisely what made her happy was always something Amelia knew well, but now, she was not so confident.

She steeled herself. There was nothing dwelling over these newfound—and quite frankly useless—emotions that would serve her. Furthermore, she would not change for Richard. She would not alter who she was at her core for anyone, in point of fact.

“You’re right, Lady Charlotte.” Amelia nodded, smiling at her friend even as a twinge of pain touched her chest. “I must continue. I won’t give up what I’ve built here.”

Her friend looped her arm through Amelia’s, and together, they returned to the drawing room to finish out the remainder of the afternoon. Amelia would have her life. She would not fall for the seduction of the Duke of Blackford, who’d already stated that he would never be with her as she might have hoped, and she would not see Heartwick disrupted any further by her husband’s plotting.

Hearts are fickle and not to be trusted, Amelia. Stay the course.

Chapter Twelve

“Thank you, yes. Please set them over there.”

Amelia directed the man holding the massive greenery to the newly cleaned-out conservatory. It had sat primarily dormant for some time, the space a sunny area where a few chairs and loungers had been placed for guests to take some air during the estate’s drums. That would not be the case any longer.

The lofty arched ceiling of the room stretched up higher than the other space on the ground floor, and the massive windows let in so much bright sunshine that it seemed to glow, light bouncing off the pale yellow colored walls.

Just today, Amelia had several sets of small tables and chairs delivered to the home, and the staff was helping her to arrange them into clustered seating areas scattered throughout the room. Exotic plants would surround them, filling the room with heavenly aromas and brightly contrasting greens that stood out from the rest of the estate.

“These look lovely,” Jane said quietly, admiring the foliage.

“The development of the room is highly necessary, Jane. A conservatory should be a proud extension of the estate’s exemplary care and maintenance of the gardens.”

Nodding, Amelia smiled at her maid and then surveyed the room as it was coming together.

That is what Richard shall hear at least.

Amelia knew that she was spending a fair amount to redress the room and triple the number of exotics and other such plants. Her husband would not be overjoyed to hear of it. She was certain.