‘You do not have to miss me. We can be neighbours.’ Belle beamed at her again. ‘You must marry Mr Lovell. Guy says he lives so close we can walk there.’
‘But...’ Was it really necessary to explain, again, that a woman had no power in this? ‘I cannot just decide to marry Mr Lovell. He must ask me. And there is no reason for him to do so.’ None that she could admit to, anyway. Without thinking, she touched the locket that hung at her throat.
‘I know something you don’t know.’ Belle was trying to look smug as a kitten in the cream. But since she could not manage to stop giggling, the effect was spoiled.
‘Not about this, I’m afraid.’ Amy pulled Belle’s hand from her face, clasping it in her own.
‘I know that you like Mr Lovell, even though you pretend that you do not.’
What point was there to lie about it now? ‘Yes, I do.’
‘And he likes you, too. That is why he’s talking to Papa.’
‘He’s talking...’ She paused in confusion. ‘When did he talk to Father?’
‘He is talking to him right now,’ Belle said. ‘I saw him come in.’
‘You saw him?’
‘I have been watching out the window for Guy,’ she said. ‘And when I saw him on the street...’ she pointed towards the front door ‘...he saw me in the window, and he...’ She held her finger up to her lips to indicate silence.
Amy shook her head. Belle was not making much sense. But then, she often got more confusing when there was something important to convey. ‘Mr Lovell wanted you to keep his visit a secret?’
Belle frowned. ‘Did I do wrong?’
‘No,’ Amy assured her. ‘I am sure he just wished to surprise me.’ It was far more likely that he had business with her father and hoped to save them both the embarrassment of a meeting. If he left the house as quietly as he arrived she need never know he had been there.
Belle had no intention of allowing discretion. She stood and tugged on Amy’s hand to pull her to her feet. ‘You should go to him.’
‘No, Belle,’ she said quietly. ‘I am sure, if he wants to see me, he will come.’
‘She is right, Belle. Ben must come to her.’ Guy Templeton was standing in the doorway, with Mellie the terrier pulling on the leash in his hand. He dropped the leather strap and the dog ran past his mistress to throw himself on to his favourite spot on the sofa.
‘Guy.’ Belle dropped her sister’s hands and went to her husband, pulling him into the room.
‘My angel,’ he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. ‘How was your afternoon?’
‘I made a pillowslip,’ she said. ‘It is very bad.’
He looked down at it. ‘It is.’ Then he whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.
‘Templeton.’ Their father was standing in the doorway Guy had vacated. He was glaring at his new son-in-law with an expression of thinly veiled contempt.
‘Lord Summoner.’ Guy looked back at him with a serene smile devoid of offence. He took a step closer to Belle in a subtle display of possession. ‘I have come to collect my wife.’
At the last word, Father gave a visible wince of displeasure. ‘Then do so and be gone.’ He looked at Belle, his gaze softening. ‘And if you need to return home, for any reason, you are not to hesitate. I will send a carriage immediately.’
At this, Belle laughed. ‘Do not be silly, Papa. If I wish to come here, Guy will drive me in his own carriage. And then he will come to bring me home, just as he is doing now.’
For a moment, their father had the same perplexed look on his face that summed up what she felt about her sister’s new-found independence. He gave one more cold glance in Guy’s direction and said, ‘Very well, then.’
‘Very well,’ Belle agreed. ‘Come, Mellie. We are leaving now.’ Guy offered her his arm and escorted her towards the door. But as she passed her father in the doorway, she stopped to kiss him on the cheek.
For a moment, he softened and his hand rose, as if to beckon her back. Then it dropped again and he sighed in defeat.
Mellie sighed as well, hopping to the floor and giving one last, longing look at his cushion before wagging his tail and following his mistress out of the house.
Her father cleared his throat, as if coughing away the inconveniently soft emotions. ‘Amelia. I wish to see you in my study.’
She gathered up her sewing. ‘I will be with you momentarily.’
‘Now, Amelia. We do not want to keep our guest waiting.’
Ben.
She had assumed he must be gone. But he was in this very house with her, waiting. She stood up so quickly she dropped her workbasket and smoothed her skirts and hair, wishing for a mirror. Then she did her best to walk at a ladylike pace one step behind her father.
But she touched the locket for luck as she did so.