The second he did, Hugh turned to Amelia. “Explain.”
With anyone else, that single word would have cowed them into instant obedience. Hugh had been a duke long enough to know how to wield his authority to its best effect. But Amelia, although she paled, did no such thing as kowtow.
He ought to have known better.
She reached into the depths of her traveling cloak and procured the painting he distinctly remembered leaving behind. His own face, twisted and hideous, stared impassively at him.
“This,” she said, brandishing it at him, “is why I came.”
The anger was a maelstrom inside him. He nearly took hold of the painting and hurled it into the grate, where it deserved to be. “I fail to see your point,” he said coldly.
“So youhaveseen this before.” Sounding triumphant, she laid it on the table in full view. “Don’t play the fool with me, Hugh. I know this is why you have been behaving so oddly around Chris. Is that why you sent her on alone?”
“I sent her ahead because I felt it was imperative she reach Barnsley Hall without too much of a delay.”
“Oh, no doubt.” Amelia’s voice, for once, was cutting, and her brown eyes were narrowed at him. “And you did not think it imperative that you face whatever she must face with her?”
He ground his teeth. “You are impertinent.”
“Well, it’s about time someone is.” She flung herself into a chair opposite and gave a huff. “I came here because I suspected you had seen the painting and assumed the worst.”
“And what,” he asked with icy restraint, “oughtI to have assumed?”
“Well, not that it means she hates you or some such nonsense.” Amelia looked at the painting and pursed her lips. “You know, I painted this.”
Shock ricocheted through him. “You?”
“Who did you think? That she would hire a painter to come to the house, survey you discreetly, and paint you from memory? No, brother dear. She asked me to do this as a favor, and I agreed. And do you know why? Because she knew it was important that if she were to dismiss a servant, whoever replaced them ought to be capable of treating you with respect. It’s one of the reasons Mrs. Quince has settled in so well.”
Hugh had the childish desire to snap back that Mrs. Quince had done no better than he had expected—but hadn’t some part of him expected the worst? He had allowed Christiana to dowhatever she’d felt best out of respect for her position, but he had expected to endure her decisions.
Instead, Mrs. Quince had been professional, brisk, deferential, and obviously accustomed to running a large household. She and Christiana had gotten along well, planning dinners and arranging the house as they’d jointly chosen, something his wife hadn’t been able to do with Mrs. Partridge.
Better than expected.
He pinched his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. “Did it occur to neither of you that I had no desire to have my face paraded to a number of potential servants?”
“Yes,” Amelia said. “And that is precisely why we didn’t tell you.”
“A poor job you did of concealing the evidence, then.”
“Chris said she would burn it.” Now it was Amelia’s turn to look pensive, looking at the painting as though she had never seen it before, though by her own confession, she had been the one to commit it to canvas. “But I suppose she liked it too much to get rid of it.”
“Likedit?”
“Oh, be reasonable, Hugh,” Amelia said, clearly impatient now. “You know she prefers you without the mask. And although she hasn’t said it, she thinks it terribly sad thatyoudo not prefer yourself that way. No doubt she kept it because she likes looking at you. Tell me, did you find it by her desk?”
He clenched his jaw. “Yes.”
“Well, then. And this is the reason you’ve been so cold to her?” Amelia’s eyes sparked with anger. “Thisis the reason that as she’s going to confront her father’s death, and more likely his unpleasantness, you are not by her side?”
“I sent her ahead to—”
“You sent her ahead because you are a coward, Hugh Westfield.” Amelia blinked rapidly, her head drawing back asthough shocked at having said the words. But she didn’t take them back, and he thought, perhaps, that she was right not to.
She softened her voice. “You are a fool if you think she does anything but love you, Hugh.”
“Enough, Amelia,” he said tightly. “You have said enough.”