Investigation.
Amelia did not shy away from what needed to be done; she marched into Hugh’s study and surveyed the shelves of books.A portrait of their parents hung over the fireplace, and Amelia lingered there for a moment before crossing to his desk. Papers littered the surface. Numbers, some scratched out and replaced by the correct figures. Dull treatises on subjects Amelia had no interest in. She skimmed past those, looking for letters from a former lover or something that might have put a spoke in her brother and sister-in-law’s relationship.
Nothing.
With a huff, she exited the room and did a sweep of the library. When she found nothing there, either, she moved to the small parlor Christiana used as her office. Unlike Hugh’s study, everything was messy. Christiana’s mind worked in chaotic, mysterious ways. Amelia, for all her impulsiveness, was far more similar to Hugh: she liked everything in its proper place. Christiana didn’t seem to care.
Even so, all the chaos in the world could not hide the portrait that lay in the very middle of Christiana’s desk, over all her papers. Amelia stared down at it, her gut rioting. Christiana had said she would destroy the painting, but evidently, she had not. Given her lack of organizational talent, it was entirely likely she had left this painting out.
Had she been looking at it?
Regardless, if Hugh had entered this room for whatever reason, it was entirely possible that he had seen it.Likely, in fact.
And if he had seen it…
Frankly, Amelia was surprised he hadn’t gone into a towering rage. Back at the beginning, he had been thrown into rages for less. Recently, he had gotten his temper under control, but she could imagine something like this pushing him over the edge.
Only it hadn’t.
Of course, there was no guarantee that hehadseen it; Amelia knew she was clutching at straws. Her brother had his moods sometimes. And yet…
Was there anything else that could convince him to be cold with Christiana? He so openly adored her, and at such a time—when she was enduring such a thing—would he really have been distant with her if something had not provoked him into being so?
Even in the early days, when he’d been angry at the world, he had never lashed out at Amelia. Perhaps Christiana was the same—he could not lash out at her, so he took refuge in that icy reserve.
Drat it all.
Amelia snatched the painting up and strode from the room, clutching it to her chest. Mrs. Barnaby would be arriving at the house shortly, to act as a chaperone now that Miss Byrd had gone; once she arrived, she would never let Amelia leave. But if Amelia didn’t leave, Hugh would follow Christiana wrapped in his own idiocy and hurt Christiana when she needed support the most.
It simply had to be done.
“Mrs. Quince,” she said when she spotted the housekeeper. “What carriages remain in my brother’s stables?”
Mrs. Quince peered at her. When Christiana had hired the woman, Amelia had been relieved to see such a pragmatic person take Mrs. Partridge’s place, but now she regretted that a sillier, more emptyheaded lady hadn’t been chosen instead. “For what purpose, my lady?”
“I must go after my brother at once. Before it’s too late.”
“Lady Amelia, I really think—”
“No doubt my brother gave you instructions as to what I may or may not be permitted to do, but I’m a duke’s sister and you cannot stop me. Even if I have to saddle a horse and ride off into the sunset.” She located Jacob, her favorite footman, and smiled at him. “Or I will go in the carriage with Jacob and a maid—as isperfectly proper—and meet my brother halfway. Rest assured I will take full responsibility for my actions.”
Elkins joined them in the hall. “Lady Amelia,” he said in lofty tones designed to inspire respect, “I cannot allow you to leave the house alone.”
“With respect, Elkins, you cannot command me. If you attempt to refuse me a carriage and a horse, I will walk to Grancott and travel post.” Which she had never done, but surely it could not be too difficult. She held his gaze, knowing he would back down. They all would; better she travel in safety with a footman to protect her than go entirely alone. And Elkins had been with the house long enough to know she would do as she threatened.
“Let it be said, Lady Amelia, that I think this a very foolish course of action,” Elkins said.
“Noted,” Amelia said. “Now, then, about the carriage?”
Mrs. Quince looked at Elkins. “You mean to let her go?”
“I’m afraid containing her is rather outside our means,” Elkins said.
“The duke will be—”
“He will be relieved we ensured she left safely if she was going to leave at all.” Elkins pressed his lips together. He had been in the household since Amelia was born, and she could have sworn he had a soft spot for her. “Jacob, instruct the stables to prepare a carriage. Mrs. Quince, please ask Sarah to pack a bag for a few days; she will be accompanying the duke’s sister.”
“Thank you, Elkins.” Amelia danced up on her toes and kissed the air beside his cheek. “You are adarling. I shall go and pack. And don’t worry, I will make it very clear to the duke that I am at fault.”