Marchioness Divine | A Regency Romance

Chapter Eight: The Bookshelf

A/N: I know I normally post on Monday, but tomorrow will be a bit hectic for me so I finished this a little early. No post tomorrow, but posts should resume on Mondays starting the week afterwards.

Anyway, hope you enjoy. Things are about to get a little spicier ;-)

"And you are sure you do not need any more dresses?" Delilah asked for the third time that day. "Madame La Rose seems very fond of you. I am sure if we go to her shop this afternoon, she will have you fitted and you will only have to wait a few days for your clothes to be ready."

"I have no need of more clothes," Amelia assured her. "I have settled my account at the modiste. This afternoon I am to call on Lady Maldon and Lady Babbage to say farewell."

Delilah quietly fetched Amelia's gloves from the cloakroom and waited as she prepared to leave. They had spent little time together over the last week as Amelia had been caught in a flurry of making and receiving calls to say goodbye to all of her acquaintances. Her last week had by far been her busiest.

"I will miss you," Delilah all but whispered.

Amelia could not let anything prevent her from travelling tomorrow – in a couple of days, London would be a distant memory. "I do not leave until tomorrow," Amelia said coolly as she tied her bonnet.

"Yes, but when you go, I will miss you," said Delilah more emphatically.

Amelia risked looking at the girl who, much like her siblings, could not hide her expression. Her eyes were pricked with tears and glaring at the marble floor, at the shoes Amelia would be wearing when she walked away.

"I have been...less lonely with you here."

"I am glad..." Amelia began. She took a deep breath to keep her voice from breaking. "I am glad we still have a few more hours together at least."

Delilah's demeanour did not brighten to its normal glow, but she offered a small smile. Amelia would never be especially affectionate, so she learned to appreciate any warmth thrown her way – it was certainly more than what the others received.

"I will see you at dinner," said Amelia, before scuttling out of the house tripping over herself.

*

Three hours later, Amelia was on her way back to Warstone House after having sat in Lady Maldon's parlour for forty-five minutes, hearing how delighted she was with Amelia's two articles advocating for the establishment of more ladies' schools. Lady Maldon talked about how glad she was that the two ladies had reunited after so long and Amelia watched the gleam in the Baroness' eye as she told Amelia how she looked forward to seeing her next season.

"Back to Warstone House, my lady?" asked the driver, Newton, as he helped Amelia back into the carriage.

It was still rather light out, not nearly dinner time. There was one family of her acquaintance she had not called upon – the Herriots. She knew Edward's mother and sister. Not well, but she had met them both a couple of times.

"Is Lord Herriot's house on the way home?"

"Yes, my lady. We are only a few minutes away."

It would not be impertinent to call on them – it might even be rude to ignore them. She was calling on the ladies, and if Edward happened to be there...at least she could say goodbye properly. In the worst-case scenario, they would be offended that she had not notified them ahead of her visit and she never had to see the peeved family again.

At least Amelia thought that had to be the worst-case scenario.

Amelia was surprised when they stopped to see that Lord Herriot's home looked no different from any other. To be sure it was grand and the pearl-white face was decorated with exotic flowers, but it was only as grand as every other house on the street. Amelia had not wasted time picturing Edward's home, but she had thought it would stand out more than this one did.