The Earl’s Bluestocking Bride (Unconventional Brides #2)

Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Suffolk,

December 1820

As the carriage trundled along the tidy country road, Kate stuck her head out the window.

“We’re almost there,” she called. “Perhaps another mile or so.”

Amelia’s gut churned with both excitement and nerves. She was eager to see her new home. Andrew had told her such lovely stories about it. But she was also anxious to discover how the household staff would react to her presence.

Andrew had grown up among these people. The housekeeper, butler, and cook had all been there since he’d been a child, and she wanted them to like her.

Lady Drake smiled at her across the carriage. “They’ll love you,” she said, as if reading Amelia’s mind.

Amelia supposed she would have a better idea of what was currently running through it than anyone else would. She had once been in Amelia’s shoes, coming to this home for the first time. Although she’d at least been a member of the aristocracy prior to marriage.

“They will,” Andrew confirmed, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Warmth flooded her chest. She was so lucky to have him. In fact, she considered herself lucky to have all of them. She would always love her parents, but she hadn’t spoken to them since the ball, and she wasn’t sure how much time and energy she wanted to give them in future. Brigid and Kate had been far more accepting of her and caring toward her than her own family ever had been.

“There it is!” Kate was hanging out the window again, pointing to something in the distance.

“You know, Amelia can’t see anything when you’re in the way,” Andrew pointed out.

Kate dropped back onto her seat and poked her tongue out at him—a more girlish gesture than any Amelia had seen from her. Perhaps returning to their home in the country reminded her of being little again.

Amelia shifted closer and looked through the window. She couldn’t see much, but the silhouette of turrets against the skyline was unmistakable. The roof tiles were dark—perhaps gray or black—but slightly faded.

She kept an eye on the manor as they drew nearer and it came into view more clearly.

It was stunning.

Primarily built of orange and yellow stone and brick, it had over a dozen arched windows facing outward and a domed roof on the center section. A short flight of stairs led up to the main entrance, and the household staff were lined up along the paved area at the top and down the stairs.

A severe-looking older man and a short, thin woman with thick gray hair stood at the base of the stairs, awaiting the carriage. Amelia had already been briefed on the members of staff, so she knew these must be Alfred, the butler, and Harden, the housekeeper.

The carriage came to a stop in front of them, and they waited for a footman to open the door. Andrew stepped out first and then helped Amelia down. She straightened her back, remembering all her mother’s lessons on good posture, and smiled politely at Alfred and Harden.

Andrew offered his hand to Lady Drake and then Kate. Once the whole party had disembarked, he linked arms with Amelia and escorted her over to greet the staff. Harden dropped into a curtsy, and Alfred bowed.

“Welcome home, my lord,” Harden said, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Thank you, Harden. It’s good to be back.”

“My lord.” Alfred dipped his head respectfully.

“Good afternoon, Alfred.” Andrew raised his voice. “I’d like to introduce you all to the new countess. This is Lady Amelia Drake. My wife.”

Amelia nodded to Alfred and Harden. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Harden’s thin lips lifted. “The pleasure is all ours, my lady. We feared the earl would never wed.”

Andrew laughed. “Hey now, none of that. It’s not as if I’m ancient.”

“Of course not, my lord,” Harden assured him, grinning slyly.

Lady Drake cleared her throat. “Shall we introduce the Countess of Longley to the household?”

“Oh, yes.” Harden straightened and smoothed her dress. “Allow me.”

The housekeeper escorted Amelia and Andrew along the line of staff, introducing each by name and position. Amelia did her best to commit the names and faces to memory, but she knew it would take a while before she remembered them all. There were simply too many.

She was glad that her dowry had ensured all of these people were able to remain employed. It was hardly enough money to do so indefinitely, but it bought them some time, and if Andrew and her father continued to manage it well, it could definitely support them into the future.

When they reached the top of the stairs and the end of the row of staff, Harden offered to show her around the inside of the manor.

“I would like that,” Amelia told her.

“I’ll accompany you,” Andrew said. “I’m sure Mother and Kate would like to retire to their rooms for a while before dinner.”

“Yes, please,” Kate said at the same time as Lady Drake protested.

“I’ll come with you,” Lady Drake insisted. “I’ll have plenty of time to rest later but only one chance to introduce my new daughter to our beloved home.”

Amelia’s heart warmed. “Thank you.”

When she’d married Andrew, she’d never imagined that she’d receive a new mother figure as part of the arrangement, but she was so grateful she had.

Harden dismissed the staff, and as soon as they entered the manor, Kate vanished down a corridor and around a corner.

“All of the rooms for entertaining are on the ground floor,” Harden said, gesturing down the corridors to the left and right. “The ballroom is directly behind us, and the drawing rooms, music room, and formal dining room are to the left. The kitchen and family room are farther along that corridor. To the right are the earl’s office, the library, and the portrait gallery.”

“There’s a portrait gallery?” She’d heard of such things but had never seen one.

Harden nodded. “It displays portraits from over seven generations of the Drake lineage. ”

“That’s incredible.” Amelia didn’t even know who her great-grandparents were, let alone anyone further back than that.

Harden smiled. “The family is proud of their heritage.” She inclined her head. “Soon to be your heritage too.”

Amelia started at that. It hadn’t occurred to her that she or her children may one day be painted and displayed in the family’s gallery.

“The family’s chambers are upstairs on the left, and the guest rooms are to the right,” Harden continued. “Come. Let’s start in the ballroom.”

They followed the housekeeper as she led them across the foyer to the ballroom. It was high-ceilinged and tastefully decorated, with a wooden floor, white walls, and gilt adornments above the mantle.

Harden showed them to the drawing room next, followed by the music room, where the sheer size of the grand piano stole her breath. The dining room was far more audaciously decorated than the ballroom, with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and gilt-framed paintings by some of the masters adorning the walls.

Amelia shook her head. When her mother saw that room, she’d be in heaven.

The morning room and the family’s smaller dining area were, while also elegantly appointed, far warmer and more welcoming.

They reversed direction down the corridor. They didn’t go inside the earl’s office, but Amelia knew Andrew would let her look around whenever she wanted. They did, however, stop at the library.

And oh, how beautiful it was.

Amelia covered her mouth as they entered. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. “It is… perfect.”

Never in her life had she been inside such a beautiful library. It occupied two stories, with bookshelves lining every wall other than the one with windows out onto the courtyard. Stairs led to the second story, and comfortable brown leather chairs were tucked into the corners.

Andrew kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you like it. You can read anything you like, and you’re welcome to add to it too. We have more than enough space.”

She couldn’t think of a better gift. “Thank you.”

“Unfortunately, we must move on,” he murmured. “You can return later and explore at your leisure.”

Reluctantly, she allowed him to draw her away. The last place they were to visit on the ground floor was the portrait gallery. Once again, Amelia was awed. Portraits lined the walls. The oldest was on the nearest end of the room, and the most recent were farthest away.

As they strolled past the older paintings, many worn with age, she examined the faces. Some of the Drakes were austere, while others looked friendly. Many had the same auburn hair as Andrew. And many, she noted, had something of a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. She wondered if good humor was a family trait.

“There’s so much history in here,” she breathed.

“You will be a part of it.” Lady Drake gestured to the part of the end wall that remained empty. “That space is for you, Andrew, and your children.”

Andrew dipped his head beside Amelia’s ear. “Did you notice the portrait of my parents?”

She studied the last painting before the empty space. In it, a woman who was obviously Lady Drake, albeit much younger, stood beside a handsome gentleman with dark reddish-brown hair a few years her senior.

“It’s lovely.” They looked happy together.

“His name was George,” Andrew murmured.

“You have his smile.” It sounded trite, but he really did.

Lady Drake snorted. “He inherited a lot more than that from his father. Drake men are born charmers. They’re excellent at getting themselves into trouble but just as good at getting themselves out of it.” Her tone was fond. She turned to Harden. “Shall we show the countess her bedchamber? I’m sure she would like a chance to rest before dinner.”

“Yes, my lady.”

They headed upstairs, bypassing the guest rooms in favor of going straight to the family wing. Harden indicated the door behind which each member of the family resided, but she and Lady Drake left once they’d unlocked the door to the countess’s chambers.

Amelia’s new bedchamber was undeniably feminine, with cream-colored walls, powder-pink carpet, and a white four-poster bed draped with gold hangings.

Andrew closed the door behind them, a wicked glint in his eyes. She went into his arms, leaning against his chest and kissing him.

“Let me welcome you home properly,” he murmured, easing her sleeve down to expose her shoulder.

She closed her eyes and smiled. One thing was for certain, she’d never be locking the adjoining door between their bedchambers again.

Norfolk,

December 1820

A couple of weeks later, Andrew woke with his wife tucked against his body. He kissed the side of her neck and stroked her belly, wondering if his baby was growing inside her even now. The thought appealed to him.

“Wake up, my love,” he whispered.

She mumbled sleepily and snuggled closer to him.

He grinned. “Sweetheart, it’s Christmas.”

At that, her eyes fluttered open. “It is? ”

“Yes. We’re at Ashford Hall, remember?” They’d traveled here to spend Christmas with Ashford, Emma, and their family.

Amelia rolled toward him, and he relaxed his hold on her. “Breakfast?”

He glanced at the clock, squinting through the dim light to make it out. “We have half an hour.”

Unfortunately not long enough to make love to her, which was one of his new favorite ways to start the day.

She sighed. “I’d best call for a maid. It’ll take me that long to make myself presentable.”

He nuzzled the crook of her shoulder. “No need for that. I’ll dress you.”

She smiled at him. “You’re very good at undressing me, but I’m not sure you’re as skilled at the reverse.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll prove it to you.”

“All right, then.”

He tossed back the covers and swung his legs off the edge of the bed, ignoring her squawk of protest. “Up we get, my love.”

Grumbling something unintelligible, she crawled out of bed and rubbed her eyes. One of her cheeks was creased from the pillow.

Adorable.

His heart full of love, he wrapped his arms around her and peppered her with kisses. “What would you like to wear?”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps the light green dress. If I put a red ribbon in my hair, it will be very festive.”

“Indeed.”

He retrieved the dress she’d mentioned and helped her into it. The buttons were, admittedly, more difficult to do up than to undo, but he managed.

That done, he got her to sit while he brushed her hair. She twisted it into a simple coil, and he looped a strip of red satin around the bundle and tied it in a bow. It was slightly lopsided but not too bad, all things considered.

They splashed cold water on their faces, dried them, and then he dressed himself quickly before they headed down for breakfast.

They shared a pleasant, hearty meal with Ashford and Emma, their daughter Lilian, Lady Drake, Kate, Emma’s parents, and her younger sister, Sophie. Emma’s twin, Violet, and her husband weren’t in attendance, although considering the previous betrothal between Ashford and Violet, that was hardly surprising.

After breakfast, they retreated to the morning room, where a Christmas tree stood in the corner. The air was thick with the scent of pine, and the furniture had been rearranged around the tree, so they could gather there comfortably.

As Andrew sat and gestured for Amelia to join him, he listened in on her conversation with Emma. Amelia had allowed Emma to borrow a handwritten copy of her first Miss Joceline Davies novel, which was due to be printed next year, and the duchess had spent the evening prior reading.

Emma was enthusing over how much she’d enjoyed it, and Amelia’s cheeks were flushed with joy.

“I’ll be certain to send you a signed copy for your library once it’s in print,” Amelia said.

“I would like that very much.” Emma smiled brightly, and Amelia smiled back.

Andrew exchanged a glance with Vaughan, pleased their wives were getting along well. Neither of them had any close friends, and it was obvious that they’d already bonded over their love of books. He suspected they would exchange letters regularly after the holiday ended.

“I don’t get a season for another two years,” Sophie complained, dragging his attention away from his wife.

“You’re too young to have your first season next year,” Lady Carlisle, Emma’s mother, reminded her.

“It’s all right.” Kate sat beside Sophie and patted her knee. “I’ll learn everything I can next season so I can tell you all about who to befriend and who to avoid when you join me.”

Lady Drake frowned. “I thought you intended to marry in your first season, dear? Do you now plan to have more than one season?”

Kate shrugged. “It might be nice to share a season with a friend, and even if I do marry, I can still support her, can’t I?”

“I suppose so.” Their mother didn’t seem to know what to make of that.

Frankly, Andrew didn’t, either, except to hope that his investments continued to pay off so they could afford another season.

Emma clapped, cutting the conversation off. “Thank you all for coming,” she said, her soft voice rising so they could all hear her. “We’re so grateful to be surrounded by family for such a happy day. We’re blessed to be here and to share it with you.”

Ashford came to stand behind her, his hand resting on her waist.

“Now, the time for gift giving has finally arrived. Shall we begin with the youngest and work our way up?”

“Yes,” Sophie urged, no doubt knowing that meant she would receive her gifts as soon as Lilian was done.

Andrew interlaced his fingers with Amelia’s. She rested her head on his shoulder, and his heart swelled with joy. The sense of contentment and ease with those around him only grew as the youngest girls exclaimed excitedly over their gifts.

When it was Amelia’s turn, he presented her with an elegant black box and watched as she took it from him curiously and tested the edges until she figured out how to open it. The lid flipped open, and she gasped, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” She kissed him, heedless of those around them. “The prettiest quill I’ve ever seen.”

He felt a silly grin take over his face. “I hope you use it to write many more adventures for Miss Joceline.”

Her expression was beatific. “I will.”

When it was his turn, Amelia went first, offering him a cotton pouch. He felt it, frowning. Whatever was inside was soft. He had no idea what it could be. An item of clothing, perhaps? But it was awfully small.

“Open it,” she urged.

He loosened the drawstring and looked inside the pouch, his confusion deepening. He reached inside, grabbed hold of something woolen and knitted, and pulled it out.

It was a baby bootie.

His heart racing, he withdrew a matching one, both made from sunshine-yellow wool.

He met her gaze, his throat thick with emotion. He coughed in an attempt to clear it. “Does this….” He drew in a deep breath. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

Amelia took his hand and placed it on her belly. “I’m pregnant. The doctor confirmed it before we left Suffolk, but I wanted to surprise you.”

He tugged her into an embrace, being careful not to bump her stomach. He gave her a lingering kiss, breathing in her familiar minty scent.

“This is the best surprise you could have given me.” He kissed her forehead, then the corners of her mouth, unable to bring himself to let go of her.

“I’m going to be a grandmother?”

With a happy sigh, Andrew released her, and they both turned to Lady Drake. Her eyes were shining, her fingertips pressed to her lips.

“You are,” Amelia told her.

Lady Drake let out a small cry and rushed over to them, dragging them both into a hug. Kate piled on, and a laugh bubbled from Andrew.

This truly was the best Christmas he’d ever had.

Eventually, they returned to their seats and resumed the gift giving, but Andrew couldn’t pay attention. He looped his arm around Amelia and caressed her belly, scarcely able to believe his luck. Only months ago, he’d been afraid that life as they knew it was over.

And it was.

But the life that had replaced it had brought him more happiness than he’d ever dreamed of.

When all the gifts had been distributed and the floor beneath the tree was bare, he took Amelia by the hand and led her back to their guest bedroom.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting on the bed and pulling her down into his arms.

She relaxed against him, warm and trusting. “I’m well. A little tired, but I haven’t felt sick at all. Mostly, my senses are just, well, especially sensitive. I’m told that’s not unusual, but now that Emma and Lady Drake know, I can discuss it more with them to be sure.”

He held her close. “Are you happy?”

Her bright eyes showed not an ounce of worry. “Very much so. Are you?”

“More than I ever have been.” He wound his fingers through her hair, and his lips found hers in a kiss that lingered for too long to be entirely chaste. “Thank you, my love.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “For what?”

He kissed her again. “For giving me everything that I never knew I needed.”