Page 84 of A Necessary Wife

“No. They were for Lady Ashcroft,” she confessed, biting her lower lip. “She said she would like some flowers before she took me riding.”

Amelia sighed and glanced away. “Then I suppose you should give them to her before they wilt,” she said gently.

“She…she didn’t really want them, or to ride with me,” Lucy admitted in a small, devastated voice. “She lied. She just wanted to have Papa all to herself.”

Milo placed a hand on Lucy’s head, approving of his child’s honesty. Amelia valued that more than anything else.

Amelia’s eyes narrowed, and she looked at Milo with suspicion.

“Nothing happened,” he promised. “Nothing ever has or will.”

She turned to Lucy again, her expression grave. “You chose the prettiest ones in the garden.”

Lucy shuffled a little closer. “Do you really like the one I picked?”

“I love them,” Amelia whispered.

Lucy bit her lip…then held them out. “Would you like them, Mama?”

Amelia didn’t respond for several moments as tears filled her eyes. She struggled to contain her emotions, then she leaned forward. “I would adore anything you ever give me, Lucy,” she said. “We can be friends, can’t we?”

Lucy nodded quickly.

Milo’s relief that their relationship was finally moving in the right direction was acute. It was the first time Lucy had directly addressed Amelia with any respect. But to have her call her mama filled his heart with joy.

Lucy passed the flowers across to Amelia’s visibly trembling hand. She held them to her nose and inhaled, watching Lucy the whole time. “Do you know their names?”

Their daughter shook her head, and Amelia admired each flower and named them, pointing to them in turn.

Lucy seemed keen to listen now and shuffled closer still. “Would you like more?”

“I don’t need them while I have these,” Amelia told her. “Perhaps another day we could pick flowers together.”

“Why wait for another day, she needs flowers that were intended for her,” Milo suggested. “Lucy, Adam, I believe Grandpa was in his study. Would you ask him if it would be all right if we pick more flowers today?”

Lucy hesitated to go, no doubt suspecting she was being sent away like last time.

“We’ll be here waiting for you to come back,” he promised.

The girl ran off, as fast as her legs would carry her, with Adam tagging along.

“I really don’t need more flowers,” Amelia chided. “These are enough. I’m not romantic.”

Milo shook his head. “Everyone is romantic to some degree. Even you, wife.”

“No, Chatham. I’m not,” she insisted firmly, twisting her wedding ring on her finger.

He sighed and sat beside her. “Is everything all right with you today?”

“Yes, of course it is.”

He frowned, though, because she was obviously not herself and could barely hide her agitation. She never sat playing with her ring, for one. “If you’re upset over Lady Ashcroft and Lucy, don’t be.”

“No. I am reconciled to how things will be for a while. It was naive of me to imagine it would be easy to win her over. This was a small step in the right direction, though.”

“You’re hopeful, not naive,” he promised, trying to meet her gaze. She smiled but her expression was closed off in a way it had never been before. “My daughter disappoints me, too. She is a great deal too much like her mother at times.”

Amelia shook her head firmly and bent to draw her sagging stocking back up her leg. “You cannot place any blame on a child for not wanting her mother’s replacement. She likes Lady Ashcroft more because she’s known her longer.”