Page 76 of A Necessary Wife

He stalked through the manor, pretending to be going about tasks that did not require his attention. Anything to stop himself from seeking Amelia out again. To keep himself from thinking about the way she had felt against him in the greenhouse—or the far more dangerous desire in her eyes when he’d caught her hopeful gaze at breakfast.

He could not forget the way she had looked at him directly after their aborted tryst, either, stunned and wary and…full of yearning.

Milo knew that feeling well.

He rubbed the back of his neck, unsettled and appalled at himself. He was getting far too involved with his wife when he’d meant to feel nothing but respect for her. And that respect had grown the more he learned about her difficulties in the past. He’d vowed not to be another, and yet, given how he felt right now, he doubted it was a promise he could easily keep anymore.

He paused, embarrassed.

He was still at the mercy of his emotions…and they urged him to find her immediately.

And so he did.

Amelia was in the schoolroom, helping the children with their letters and their maid watching on. It made him so happy to see them all together. Adam sat happily beside Amelia, copying lines of letters with his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth and there was a look on Amelia’s face that suggested she was trying not to laugh.

Lucy, however, glowered at her slate as if it had insulted her personally.

“Your hand will cramp if you grip the chalk so tightly,” Amelia warned lightly.

Lucy tightened her grip even further and scowled.

Milo sighed and stepped inside the room. It was killing him not to interfere too much but Amelia had warned that it would take time. “Good morning again, children.”

Lucy whipped around. Her expression brightened instantly. “Papa! Can we please go riding, now that you are back?”

“I haven’t gone.”

“Then I can come with you?” She squealed and ran to him, flinging her arms around his waist, and he rested a hand on her head out of habit. Affection stirred—but so did worry. Lucy clung to him, and to the past, too tightly. Needed him too desperately, too. Her possessiveness grew more troubling by the day.

He glanced at his wife, hoping for guidance from her.

But she wasn’t watching. “They were practicing their letters, but of course she can go riding with her papa,” Amelia said, rising from her chair and dusting off her fingers as she turned away.

Lucy shot her a look sharp enough to cut glass.

Adam sighed. “I don’t want to go unless Mama takes me.”

Milo’s heart leapt at the word Mama from his son’s lips, and he saw Amelia turn back, heart in her eyes as she stared at Adam.

Lucy gasped. “She is not⁠—”

“Enough,” Milo’s barked, his tone sharp enough that both children flinched. He directed his gaze on his daughter alone. “You will show respect for Amelia, or so help me, I will send you back to Devon alone.”

Lucy’s lower lip trembled, and she pulled away from him. “She is taking you away from us,” she whispered. “Lady Ashcroft was right!”

Milo clenched his jaw, pain twisting through him at the extent of Phillipa’s meddling. He would deal with that woman today, one way or another. “No one is taking anything from either of you, Lucinda. Amelia is your stepmother, and she cares for you.”

“She is not Mama!” Lucy insisted with a stamp of her foot.

“She is not trying to replace your mother,” he said firmly. “But she is part of our family.”

Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. “You love her more than me.”

The words struck clean through him, as they had the first time he’d heard her say that.

Amelia inhaled sharply—but she did not speak. Bless her for that. She understood instinctively that one wrong word could crush the girl completely.

He knelt in front of his daughter for the second time that day. “I have loved you from the moment you were born, Lucy. I always will. But a man’s love for his child is not the same as his feelings for his wife.”