Read Constant Hearts, Inspired by Jane Austen's Persuasion Page 7

Chapter 7

  Shocked by her own confession, Amelia waited with her heart thudding in her ears. Reed said nothing. Of course he wouldn’t. She was a ninny to hope he would.

  He no longer loved her, probably hadn’t in years.

  She turned away to hide her tears springing to her eyes. “Forgive me. I’ve made you uncomfortable. Be well, Reed. Good bye.” Her voice cracked.

  In an attempt to gather what little remained of her pride, she squared her shoulders and strode away without a backward glance, gripping her horse’s reins as if they were the only thing keeping her upright.

  She used a bench as a mounting block and galloped away without looking back at Reed. After finding a secluded area of the park, Amelia dismounted, sank down onto a bench, and sobbed. Despite the pain of saying good-bye the first time, and the ensuing years of loneliness, nothing compared to the agony of knowing what she’d lost, and would never again find. She obviously didn’t deserve a second chance. She’d laid her heart at Reed’s feet, and he’d failed to pick it up, or give her any hope. Perhaps it was just as well. She didn’t know if she had the courage to try another relationship. Her choices before had led her to misery.

  Numb and exhausted from her cry, Amelia mounted her patient horse and walked him back to Aunt Millie’s Mayfair house. She left him in the care of a footman who would, no doubt, see him delivered to the mews.

  “Amelia dear?” Her aunt’s voice drifted from the back parlor.

  “Yes, Aunt.” She found Aunt Millie bent over embroidery.

  “Did you have a nice ride?”

  Amy sank into the divan next to her aunt and kissed her cheek. “It was lovely.”

  The muffled sounds of the street outside wormed into the room’s silence and Amelia twisted her gloves in her lap.

  “It’s Reed St. Ives, isn’t it?”

  Amelia started. “I beg your pardon?”

  “The reason you’ve been so quiet ever since Lord and Lady Evensley’s party. I know it isn’t because anyone said anything to you. From what I saw, they were all polite…unless someone said something in private?”

  “No. The Evensley’s friends were polite. I’m merely tired, Aunt. London air has never agreed with me.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  Amelia traced the pattern of her skirt with a finger. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Dearest, I know you’ve always tried very hard to be everything we expected of you. But there are times when one must follow one’s heart, instead of living up to the ideals of others.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you really?” She set aside her embroidery.

  “I know you and Uncle loved me. You’ve always been very kind to me and you never made me feel a burden.”

  Aunt Millie, her namesake, substitute mother, and dearest friend took her hand. “You wish you’d gone against your uncle’s wishes and married Reed St. Ives, don’t you? Seeing him has brought it all back.”

  Tears stung Amelia’s eyes. “Uncle was right; Reed was not a suitable match.” Yet even to her, the words sounded thin and forced.

  Aunt Millie let out a snort. “A love match is not such a bad thing. I told you that back in the beginning.”

  Amelia wiped the tears coursing down her cheeks and pushed away the images. “He wasn’t suitable.”

  “His only flaws were his background.”

  “And his chosen profession.”

  “I admit that was the worst of it. If he’d become a respectable doctor instead of a surgeon who sullies his hands, your uncle might have been more understanding. You can’t blame your uncle dear. He was trying very hard to be a good guardian for you.”

  “I know. I trusted him. He was usually right.” Amy smiled. “Except when he disagreed with you.”

  Aunt Millie’s mouth curved. “Yes, well, he wasn’t right about Reed. Amy, dearest, you’re a grown woman now, and you can make your own choices. Reed St. Ives is a good man. If you still love him, then you should make it known to him. He clearly still has strong feelings for you.”

  “Of the negative kind.”

  Aunt Millie smiled mysteriously. “Don’t be too sure.”

  Amelia let out her breath. “I did speak with him. Against my better judgment, I told him how I feel about him but whatever he once felt for me is gone. I hurt him too badly and he no longer loves me. It’s my fault.”

  “You were obedient to your uncle. Defying a father-figure you’ve spent years trying to impress is difficult when you’re seventeen. Or at any age, for that matter.”

  “I should have listened to you. You tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen.” Amelia heaved a sigh. “It no longer matters.”

  Aunt Millie looked pained. “I think you should know; when Lord Forsythe asked for your hand, your uncle had doubts about him. But he couldn’t bring himself to reject Lord Forsythe. After you and Reed parted ways, you were so broken-hearted that your uncle couldn’t bear to cause you such pain again by rejecting a second suitor. Your uncle thought if you married Lord Forsythe, you might be happy again.”

  Amelia nodded. “Uncle did question me regarding my feelings for Lord Forsythe, but I was reluctant to express any opinion. I relied entirely upon his judgment because I was afraid to trust mine.” She let out a mirthless laugh and then shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. For all I know, Reed and I would have been miserable, too.”

  “I doubt that. Amelia dear, he’s come back into your life again. Don’t waste this second chance.”

  Suddenly unable to continue this conversation, Amelia stood. “I think I’ll lie down before dinner. Oh, and I’ve decided to return to the country Friday next.”

  “So soon?”

  “I’ve had more than enough of London. I did what I intended to do; I attended parties, faced down those who renounced me, and more importantly, secured the funds I needed for the orphanage. It’s time to go home.”

  “Must you leave so soon? It will be so lonely without you here.”

  “I wish to return to oversee the improvements at the orphanage.”

  “I see.”

  The sooner she got away from London, the presence of Reed St. Ives, and all the painful memories, the better. With luck, she’d stay busy enough to push back her emptiness.

  The following morning, as Amelia donned her riding gloves for her customary ride in the park, the butler announced Dr. St. Ives to see her.

  Amelia’s heart thumped double-time. “Very well. Show him in.”

  Reed entered, sweeping off his hat and extending a hand, his eyes making a slow perusal of her. His teeth flashed. “I always did love you in red.”

  Her breath left her in a rush. “Reed.”

  “You sound surprised. Did you not agree to go riding with me this morning?”

  “I…I wasn’t sure the offer stood.”

  “Have I ever broken my word?”

  “No, indeed.”

  He eyed her in that piercing way he had as if searching out all her secrets. “Do you no longer wish to accept?”

  “Not at all. I …” She glanced down at her riding habit. “I am dressed for it.” She expected him to smile but he grew grave.

  “If you do not wish to be in my company, tell me now and spare us both the discomfort. I’ll understand if you tell me you didn’t mean what you said to me yesterday.”

  “I do wish to go riding with you.” Her words came out in a rush, and she suspected her desperation was painfully apparent. “And I meant what I said.”

  She winced. She’d just turned her heart inside out. She stood waiting for him to pour acid on the raw, exposed areas.

  He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  At least he hadn’t rejected her. Or mocked her as he’d likely been tempted. She searched his face but found no clues as to his thoughts.

  They stepped outside as a stable boy appeared with her favorite bay saddled and ready for her morning ride. Reed helped her up, his hand warm and strong on her waist, then
moved away to mount a lovely chestnut gelding.

  They spoke of inconsequential things on the way to the park, and then rode side by side for the better part of an hour. She’d forgotten how beautifully he rode, as if he were a part of the horse instead of a separate being. They spoke little, but the silence was unexpectedly comfortable. They slowed to a walk, their horses’ hooves moving in unison.

  Reed glanced at her. “I never did get my ice from Gunther’s. Shall we go now?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Another rider came from the opposite direction and an all-too-familiar voice rang out. “Well, well, the Ice Queen and the surgeon.”

  Amelia looked up and broke out into a cold sweat as she met the sneering face of her former husband, Lord Forsythe.