“And what about Thomas? Will you deny your true feelings for him?”
Based solely on her actions in the bedchamber, I could never have made such an absolute claim without firsthand experience of her emotions. Amelia didn’t need to know this, any more than she needed to know how I had really healed Thomas.
The shake of her head was almost imperceptible. “No, I will not.”
“Then why did you insist on the keeping the betrothal in place?” Why have you been making my life a living hell?
We stared at each other for several long seconds. Then quite unexpectedly the defiant spark faded and her shoulders slumped forward from an invisible weight. “Because it was the only way.” She sounded miserable, as though pained by this vague admission.
I gave her an expectant look. “The only way for what?”
Her lips compressed to a stubborn line that irked me to no end. The carriage could arrive at any moment, and I was not about to lose this opportunity to gain what I wanted most in the world—what was mine by right if she would just move aside. “The only way for what, Amelia?” I asked, jumping straight to her given name in my growing agitation.
“It was the only way for me to have Thomas.” She spoke so softly, I had to strain to hear the words.
“What are you talking about? How can you have Thomas if you’re married to Henry?”
With a long, weary breath, her head fell into her palms. “Don’t judge me,” she said, as much a command as a plea. “You’ve no idea how difficult it is for a lady in my position. From the outside it may appear to be all jewels and beautiful gowns. But as the daughter of a king, I am no more than well-dressed barter, to be awarded to the most politically advantageous and powerful bidder. Regardless of my feelings for Thomas, he is a commoner, a nobody in my world. We would never have been allowed to marry.”
“But why the betrothal to Henry?” I asked again. “How could that have possibly helped?”
A look of strained patience settled on her face. “My marriage to Henry had been spoken of since our infancy, and for most of my life I took for granted that someday we would wed. To be fair, if I hadn’t met Thomas, I would have willingly gone to Henry and loved him with all my heart.”
“You did meet Thomas, though.”
“Yes,” she said, drawing out the one word. “And for a time I had thought to refuse marriage altogether rather than be unfaithful to Thomas.”
I studied her face in an attempt to eke out some unspoken fragments of understanding. But try as I might, I could make neither rhyme nor reason of her actions. “Then why the change of heart?” I asked.
“About a year ago my aunt, Sophia Dorothea, wrote to my father to propose an alliance with her son. Though the match went against my mother’s express wish, it was almost too good for my father to decline.”
I raised a brow in question.
“Aunt Sophia is the Queen of Prussia and her son Fredrick is the crown prince. The match would have been politically expedient for both our countries. It would also have meant that I had to move hundreds of miles from England.”
The first tinges of understanding colored my thoughts. “And hundreds of miles from Thomas.”
Amelia nodded. “After I learned of my Aunt Sophia’s intentions, I begged my father to make the betrothal with Henry at once.”
I gasped. “Good heavens! You wanted to eat your cake and have it still.” And to eat my piece as well. No wonder gluttony was considered one of the seven deadly sins.
Amelia snorted, most unprincess-like, in my opinion. “Do not paint me a whore quite yet, Selah,” she said, also dropping the formal address. “I never intended to wed Henry, just to buy time until cousin Fredrick was safely married to someone else. Once Prussia was no longer an option, I would have then begged out of the betrothal with Henry, maybe feigned a prolonged feminine illness that would have made marriage impossible. Over the years, I’ve heard of several young ladies who have dodged the altar by such tactics.”
I really did feel sorry for her, but not to the point of sacrificing my own happiness, or allowing her to continue using Henry and me in an elaborate scheme against the king. After such a confession, very little stood in the way of getting what I wanted—except maybe the clatter of carriage wheels in the distance. A river of urgency flowed through me at their approach. “What do we do now?” I asked, in an attempt to hasten her amends.
Resignation weighed on her youthful face, making it appear older than a moment ago. “You saved Thomas’s life,” she said wearily, “and we both know there is only one reward equal to that service. I shall request that the betrothal contract be rescinded this evening.”
Not until the fist released its grip in my chest did I realize how tense I had been, and for a few slow breaths, I savored the joyous relief that so often followed a hard won battle. In the past six hours I had saved a man’s life, and received mine back in return.