Miss Hartwell's Dilemma by Carola Dunn Read Free Book Online Page B

caped greatcoat. “Come, we shall drive back to Halstead and sit in comfort in my private parlour. It is nearly dark. No one will see you.”
    “They will see me at the inn,” she pointed out. “I dare not.”
    “Hen-hearted wench. Then we must drive about in the dark, for I’ll not keep my team standing in this weather.”
    “Of course not. You are right, I was crazy to suggest this meeting. Bertram, I cannot see you during the week. I simply do not have the time. Will you come and visit Louise on Sunday? I shall say I must discuss her education with you.”
    “Her misdeeds, rather. Very well, m’dear. Sunday let it be. But if you do not make time for me then, I shall lay siege to your wretched school. I give you due warning. Allow me to drive you back now.”
    “It is but a step, and they will hear the carriage wheels.”
    “I shall walk with you then,” he said firmly and tucked her gloved hand under his arm.
    They walked in silence to the corner of King Street, neither wishing to broach a subject that they had not time to deal with thoroughly. Amaryllis stopped at the corner.
    “Go back to your horses now,” she said. “They will take a chill.”
    “Till Sunday then.” He turned to go, then swung back. “Amaryllis, do you still have my ring?”
    “I sold it,” she said bluntly.
    After a pause, he said softly, “Do you know, I find that my disposition is more romantic than I had thought.” He strode off into the night.
    Amaryllis stared after him, hands clenched, a cold weight settling over her heart. Anger came to her rescue.
    If she had distressed him, why did he not say so and let her explain? She had not dared entrust the valuable ring to the post and had kept it to return to him at a later date. Then they had needed money desperately—more desperately than Bertram, with his wide estates and generous allowance, could ever understand. He might have let her try to explain.
    As she trudged up King Street, she remembered other occasions when he had gone off looking hurt, so unwilling to quarrel with her that he would not demand an explanation of whatever troubled him. And he always accepted her every suggestion without a murmur, even when it was a matter of putting off their meeting for three days or their wedding for two years.
    He had been a buck of the first stare, a leader of the Corinthian set. Yet in his dealings with her he was something more like a milksop. Was that why she had postponed the marriage time after time? Of course, she had no wish to be ridden over roughshod...nor did she desire to rule the roost.
    She had always taken his complaisance for granted. Now it struck her that he must have loved her very much, more than she could imagine, to put up with her whims for so long. Did he still love her?
    Entering the house, she heard the sound of voices from the dining room. The rest of the household was still at dinner, the young ladies doubtless practising their company manners and polite conversation under Mrs. Vaux’s benevolent eye.
    Miss Hartwell took off her cloak, hung it on the row of hooks among a couple of dozen others, and shivered. It was not much warmer in the vestibule than outside, but with the shocking price of coals they could not possibly light fires everywhere in September.
    Daisy came out of the dining room bearing a tray, so Amaryllis called to her and asked for a bowl of soup to be brought to the common drawing room. Fortunately, her aunt had ordered a fire made up in there. Warming her hands at the flickering flames, Amaryllis gazed into the glowing embers and imagined herself in sunny Italy with Bertram. She could have travelled all over Europe as Lady Pomeroy instead of slaving to build a school in an obscure corner of Essex.
    One of the housemaids brought her soup and built up the fire. Soon after, the girls tripped in, chattering like a flock of exotic birds in their evening gowns of pink and primrose and white. Suddenly Amaryllis was glad she had created this