Page 34 of A Necessary Wife

She smiled slightly. “My little sister was forever their favorite. Mrs. Norris can do no wrong in their eyes.”

“She did a great deal wrong, I think, in stealing your beau from under your nose.”

Amelia shook her head. “Looking back, perhaps she did me a favor. I’ve heard the rumors about his behavior, and hers. For all their declaration of love and devotion for each other, they both took lovers in the first year of their marriage, and he has a mistress now, I believe.”

“Lucky for me, as well,” Chatham murmured.

Amelia laughed at his smug expression. “Yes, I suppose my ruin was to your advantage in the end.”

“But you were not ruined. Not the way people gossiped about.” He caught up her hand and brought it to his lips. His lips grazed her knuckles, his breath warming her skin, setting her heart to hammer against her ribs, as it always seemed to do. “I insist you never think that way about yourself again.”

Amelia clutched her letters with one hand but couldn’t look away from her husband’s eyes, and how he was kissing her fingers. No, she hadn’t truly been ruined, but only Chatham and the servants washing their bedsheets would ever know that for sure.

She stole her hand back slowly as his cheeks grew warm. She was glad that the one person who knew the truth about her was Chatham.

Adam suddenly began to cry, and Amelia glanced around Chatham, then sprinted across the lawn to check on the boy.

Lucy still reached him first. The little boy was hugging his knee, and Lucy hugged him. “It’s all right, Addy,” the girl whispered. “It’s just a scratch.”

Amelia put her letters in her pocket under her gown and knelt to examine the boy’s scrape. “But the little ones hurt, don’t they?”

Adam nodded, hiccupping in his sister’s arms. They were such a close pair, and Amelia never wanted that to end. But she had to find her place in their lives if they were to be a family.

The wound was not serious, and she was relieved. She sat back, smiling at him. “You know, I ended up with a scar from a fall like yours. Just about the same spot, too.”

Lucy squinted at her and whispered to her brother, “She’s fibbing.”

Adam pushed out of his sister’s arms. “Show me?”

“Well, ladies are not supposed to raise their skirts in public,” she whispered to him, looking around in case anyone was watching. “Remember, I wouldn’t do this for anyone at all but you.”

She inched her gown up over her knee and showed him the rough, slightly reddened skin that had never gone away.

The boy immediately touched the long-healed wound. “Ooh, did you fall over too?”

“Yes, in a fashion. My sister ran into me, standing by a garden bed, and my skin was scraped by the edging.”

That was not quite the whole of the story. Caroline had attempted to destroy Amelia’s hard work in the garden in a fit of pique over her success and had pushed her to the ground, out of her way. But there was no need to tell the children about sibling squabbles and being bullied relentlessly. Not when she hoped to peacefully share the tending of a garden with them one day. It would only give Lucy ideas on how to strike back if she were ever inclined to spitefulness.

Amelia had other small blemishes that couldn’t be seen. Caroline had done a thorough job of scarring her. Her actions frequently forced Amelia out of the garden, back to her bedchamber, which meant her sister could be the center of attention when she claimed credit for the pretty spring planting. It had been difficult growing up with a sister determined to destroy you while becoming the darling of everyone else.

Chatham suddenly knelt beside her, his fingers skimming over the healed wound, too. “This is recent?”

“No. Years old. It healed badly.”

“It seems fresh.” He touched the scar again, frowning. “Do you carry other injuries caused by your sister?”

Amelia heard a touch of anger in his voice and flipped her gown over her knees again. “Yes.”

“From what?”

She shivered, remembering the burning pain of hot wax dripped down her back and her sister’s smirk when she’d looked at her. Chatham might not like to see it. “It’s not important.”

She stood swiftly, rubbing her hands together. She forced a smile for the children’s sake and put her hands on her hips. “Well, we had better have Cook clean and smooth some ointment over that wound, or would you prefer me to do it for you, Adam?”

“Cook can look after us,” Lucy announced, mimicking Amelia’s posture exactly and glaring. Then Lucy grabbed her brother’s hand and yanked him away before he could say who he wanted to look after the wound.

Amelia sighed as a servant took charge of Adam at the kitchen door, and they disappeared inside together, where Amelia didn’t dare follow yet.