The Mistress of Hanover Square

Mindful that it would take time to replace her, Amelia made no reply. However, she turned urgently to Gerard as Nanny led the child away.

‘I must speak to you privately. I have made certain observations and I think you should consider replacing that woman.’

‘You do not like her either?’ Gerard looked relieved. ‘I am so glad that I asked you to take note, Amelia. She was recommended to me, but I have thought her too sour. I was not sure if I was being unfair—and I know that children need discipline…’

‘Not to the extent that all the joy of life is squeezed out of them,’ Amelia said as they walked from the room into a smaller parlour where they were alone. ‘Lisa is high-spirited, but she is a delightful child and has good manners. I think Nanny is too strict with her. She is not allowed to play or to have honey for tea—and that I must tell you is a terrible deprivation.’

‘And entirely unnecessary,’ Gerard said and laughed. ‘I knew I might rely on you, my very dear Amelia. I was afraid that my partiality for Lisa made me too lenient. I have a nursemaid. I shall put her in charge and dismiss Nanny. Oh, I will give her a year’s wages and a reference, but she shall not have charge of my daughter again.’

‘Oh dear, the poor woman. I feel terrible now for she has lost her employment, and at Christmas—but I confess that I did not like her. I once employed a woman of that sort at the orphanage and had to dismiss her soon after, because she ill treated her charges. I do not understand why some people feel it is necessary to treat children as if they were criminals.’

‘Some can be little monsters. I remember that I used to put frogs in the bed of my nanny.’

‘Did you? I did that once and she went to my father. He sent me to bed and I was given nothing but bread and water for two days—and I had to apologise.’

‘My father thrashed me. It did me the world of good, for as he said—think what a shock it was for the poor frog.’

‘The frog…’ Amelia went into a peal of delighted laughter. ‘Oh, no! That is a great deal too bad of you, sir. You have a wicked sense of humour.’

‘Yes, I have at times,’ Gerard admitted. ‘Though I have not laughed so very much of late. Amelia…may I tell you something?’

‘Yes, of course.’

He led her towards a little sofa. ‘Please sit down. This is not easy for me. I have wished to tell you something that almost no one else knows, but I fear it may give you a bad opinion of me.’

‘Have you done something wicked?’ she asked with a smile.

‘I have not told you the whole truth about something.’

Amelia’s smile faded. This was clearly serious. ‘Please explain. I do not understand.’

‘I told you that my wife died after a long illness?’ Amelia nodded. ‘It was not quite the truth. She had been ill, but she had recovered in her physical health at least, though I know now that she must still have been suffering in her mind.’

‘Gerard! Please explain. I do not understand.’

‘Lisette seemed happy enough while she was carrying the child, but afterwards…she complained that I did not love her—that I thought more of the child…’

‘Surely any father would love their child? Perhaps she was pulled down by the birth? I have heard that some women are deeply affected by childbirth.’

‘Yes, it may have been that…’ Gerard hesitated. Now was his chance to tell her the whole truth, but he was reluctant. ‘I may have neglected her. I tried to be good to her, to give her my protection and all that she needed, but perhaps it was not enough for her. I am not the man I was when we first met, Amelia. I have become harder, I think, less caring of others.’

‘Oh, Gerard! I cannot think that you deliberately mistreated your wife?’

He stroked the little scar at his temple. ‘No, not deliberately, but I may have been careless perhaps. Lisette was vulnerable, easily hurt. I should have been kinder.’ He paused, then, ‘It may not be possible for me to love anyone completely. Something died in me the night your brother had me thrashed. At first I believed that you knew—that you felt insulted by my love. I suppose that I became afraid to show love, and Lisette suffered because of my lack.’

Gerard hesitated. He wanted to tell her that Lisette’s death was his fault, to tell her of the night when Lisette had crept into his bed and offered herself to him—of the way he had turned from his wife, because she was not the woman he had loved so deeply. It would be right and fair to make Amelia aware of what he had done, but he could not bear to see her turn from him in disgust. He knew that Lisette had been terribly hurt—that it had driven her to a desperate act.

‘What happened—how did she die?’

‘One day when I was out she ordered a bath and then…’ He paused, almost choking on the words. ‘When I returned I found her. She had slashed her wrists and bled to death. I pulled her from the water and did what I could for her. She died in my arms…’ His face twisted with pain. ‘I did not mean to hurt her. She must have been desperately unhappy and I was not there for her. Something in me must be lacking. How could I not know that my own wife was so desperate that she would take her own life? I have blamed myself for her death ever since.’

He had told her the truth, leaving out only a few details that he felt unable to communicate.

‘Gerard…’ Amelia was on her feet. She held out her hands to him, her expression understanding and sympathetic. ‘My dear—how terrible for you! It was a tragedy for a life was lost—but it was not your fault. Lisette could not have recovered completely from the birth. How could you have known she was unhappy if she did not tell you?’

‘She may have been unwell, but I was not aware of it. I should have known.’

‘You rescued her when she was alone. You married her, were kind to her so she turned to you, gave you her heart. If she felt unsure of your love, it may have made her desperately unhappy, but the blame is not all yours.’

‘You see things so clearly…’ Gerard moved closer, his eyes searching her face. ‘So you do not hate me? You will not turn away in disgust? You understand that I am not as I once was?’

‘I could never hate you. Surely you know…’

‘I know that you are a wonderful, wise and lovely woman,’ Gerard said passionately. ‘I would be honoured if you would become my wife, Amelia. You were prepared to marry me all those years ago. Dare I hope that you still find the idea agreeable?’

‘Gerard…’ Amelia gasped. ‘Yes…’

She meant to say more, but he lowered his head to kiss her on the lips. Amelia responded with all the love that was in her, her arms going about his neck as her body melded with his. This was what she had longed for, dreamed of so many lonely nights! She had never expected to be so fortunate.

‘My beautiful Amelia,’ Gerard said. ‘I am a fool! You are such a sensible woman. You understand everything. You would not do something stupid because of a foolish quarrel. I should have asked long ago. You are exactly the woman I need in my life. You will not expect more than I am able to give.’

Amelia withdrew a little. She waited for him to say the words she needed to hear, but he did not speak of love and she was conscious of a slight disappointment.

She looked at him uncertainly. ‘I had thought you meant to ask me before, but then you seemed to withdraw and I was not sure you cared for me.’

‘I have always admired and cared for you,’ Gerard replied. ‘We should have married years ago had your brother not had me beaten for having the temerity to approach you.’ He paused, then, ‘I fear Sir Michael will not take the news kindly, Amelia.’

‘Michael may be pleased for me or stay away from my home. I am not obliged to him and he may not deny me this time. However, you should take care, for I know he can be a spiteful man, Gerard.’

‘I shall take care for myself and for you. I do not forget that someone made an attempt to abduct you, Amelia. It will be my first duty to protect you, my dearest.’

‘Thank you. I feel it unlikely that Michael would do more than vent his displeasure on me verbally—but it is always best to be careful.’ She looked at him, her doubt writ plain on her face. ‘Do you wish to announce our engagement at once?’

‘That is entirely up to you, Amelia. If you wish for more time to consider…’

‘No, I think not,’ Amelia told him. ‘I have given you my answer and I shall not change my mind.’

‘Then you have made me the happiest man alive,’ Gerard said. ‘I have a Christmas gift for you, Amelia—but it is not a ring. I was afraid to tempt fate. However, I did commission a ring. I shall send to my jeweller and have it delivered at Coleridge.’

‘Perhaps we should announce our engagement at the ball there,’ Amelia suggested. ‘We shall consider ourselves pledged, Gerard—but tell only our best friends until the ball.’

‘As usual you have solved the thing,’ he said and leaned forwards to kiss her softly on the lips. ‘I look forward to our wedding, Amelia. You are a good friend and you will be a wonderful wife. Lisa already adores you and this is the best thing I can do for her. You will have the comfort and security of marriage and I shall have a beautiful gracious wife…we shall all get on famously.’

Amelia allowed him to kiss her, but she did not cling to him as she had the first time. At the back of her mind a tiny doubt had formed. She did not want to think it, but she was afraid that Gerard had proposed to her because he needed a suitable wife and a mother for his delightful daughter! Much as she knew she would love Lisa, she could not help thinking that if things had been different she might have been the child’s mother. She would be a good mother to Lisa, but her heart ached when she thought of what might have been.

Did Gerard imagine that she had remained single because she had not received another offer? Amelia frowned as she went up to change for the evening. She might have been married soon after Gerard disappeared, but she had refused every man her brother brought for her to meet. Michael had tried to push her into marrying a marquis, but she had not allowed him to bully her.

Since she came into her fortune, she had received six offers of marriage. Not one of the gentlemen had made her feel that she wished to be married, even though she believed that at least one had been in love with her. Despite the hurt Gerard’s apparent desertion had inflicted, she had never ceased to love him. No other man could ever replace him in her heart.