Chapter Five: Silk

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A/N: Apologies - this chapter contains outdated language referring to race. I used it for historical accuracy and this does not reflect my views. I wanted to include characters of colour in my historical fiction without completely dodging the issue of historical racism. I take responsibility for any offence caused.



"I am so sorry about those two," exclaimed Lady Madeleine as she attempted to busy herself with the embroidery she had dropped when she dismissed her two middle children. "I think the spring is warming up a little too quickly for their temperaments."

Lady Delilah and Lady Madeleine were taking advantage of the bright sunshine filtering into the blue room that morning by working on some much-neglected embroidery. Amelia was going to join them as soon as she finished her letter to Judy and Paul – she had written to them yesterday, as she had every day, because it seemed appropriate that a lady should have somebody to write to. But now she had not received a letter from them in nearly two weeks. Were they well? Had they forgotten her? It was beginning to distract her from her duties.

"I do not mind," Amelia said in the same monotonous tone she used for nearly everything.

She took a deep breath and ceased the jagged scrawling of her handwriting which she now realised looked slightly unhinged before continuing with her letter more calmly, simply asking the Howells if they were well and needed her to come home.

Henry and Christina, those two, had just been dismissed from the room and ordered to take their latest argument to the stables. Christina had been instructed to join Henry for a ride in the park, but she was normally able to find something more pressing to do to get out of it. Amelia did not know what they were arguing about this time – there was always something for them to fall out over. Frederick meanwhile had gone shooting with the Marquess of Hastings for a couple of days and would return this evening.

Where the blazes were Judy and Paul?! Amelia nearly swore with frustration.

"You are very focused on your correspondence this morning, your ladyship," Delilah chirped with a nervous smile.

Amelia looked up and realised she was being steadily watched by the ladies – she must have been ignoring them again. Conversations in the Warstone House usually just happened around Amelia; she was not used to participating.

"I am determined to ensure my home is in good working order. I am unsure of when I will return so I want my staff to be ready." I want to ensure they are well.

"Managing multiple estates can be a challenge," said Madeleine with what she thought was a comforting nod. Amelia wanted to roll her eyes – a housemaid finding suitable work after being cast out or a wife looking after her dying husband could be a challenge. Estate management was a hobby for people who ate using silverware engraved with the family crest.

"Has your house sold yet?" asked Delilah in an unnaturally cool voice. "It might be hard to sell it now that Mr Babbage is selling his house – Lady Hampton told me so last night."

The last thing Amelia wanted to hear was what Delilah and her infernal friends had been gossiping about. As Frederick became more independent, Amelia had to consider her own departure. She would not stay with her cousins indefinitely, and one day Frederick would stop being grateful for the help – in her experience, men's gratitude never went beyond civility.

One minute she decided to stay and build her reputation here, and the next she was reminded that this would require hosting parties and constant company and running away to an empty house in the countryside would be far more comfortable.

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