instead of fascination.
“It feels odd having Trent out of the house,” Miranda said.
Amelia thought of all the school stories Trent had shared. “Hasn’t he been out of the house for years?”
“But his home was still with us. Now he has lodgings of his own.”
“Imagine how strange it is for me. He’s living in my old home.” Amelia grinned at Miranda, hoping to disguise how strange it truly made her feel. She’d been visiting several times a week with Mrs. Harris, Lydia, and Fenton. Those visits would have to stop since Trent had officially taken possession of the house yesterday.
“You realize I’m here, don’t you?” Trent asked.
Miranda continued the conversation without acknowledging his interruption. “I suppose it would be difficult for you. I mean, he’s eating at your old dining table.” A wide grin split Miranda’s face. “Do you think he kept all the curtains? I believe I remember seeing lace in a window or two.”
“Mrs. Harris planned to remove the more feminine frippery from around the house.”
Trent coughed. “I am walking between the two of you, even.”
Miranda frowned. “That is no fun at all. I shall continue thinking of him drowning in ruffles. It makes me laugh.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. The image was certainly a funny one, but it was also disturbing. Trent was eating off dishes she used every day in her former life. He was sitting on the sofas that she’d had re-covered. At least Mrs. Harris had set him up in one of the other bedrooms so she didn’t have to picture that awkward scenario.
“How was your first evening in your new home, Trent?” Amelia hoped hearing Trent’s stories would make the house more his than hers.
“Oh, so we’ve decided I can be part of the conversation now?” Trent straightened his cuffs. “You neglected to mention that you lived in the strangest house in London.”
Amelia frowned in confusion.
Miranda laughed. “I’ve been in the house, brother. There’s nothing strange about it.”
Trent grunted. “They ate dinner with me.”
Amelia giggled.
“Who ate dinner with you?” Miranda’s brows drew down over her eyes.
Amelia’s giggles grew into a laugh. She could visualize what must have happened.
“Who do you think ate dinner with me?” Trent stopped and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You couldn’t have invited guests over. Half of your things are still at Hawthorne House.”
Amelia gave in. The idea of Mrs. Harris and Fenton sitting down to dinner and treating Trent the way they had treated her was too comedic to resist. The brown ringlets Iris had so carefully fashioned that morning bobbed happily against her head. It certainly wasn’t fashionable to laugh this loud or this long, but Amelia didn’t care.
That realization distracted her brain enough to allow the laughter to begin to ebb. She didn’t care! From the first moment Amelia had met Miranda, she had been constantly worried about her dress, her manners, and her speech. The desire to impress engulfed her, even after securing a place in the family.
Her gaze flew around the circle, touching on the now familiar faces. Miranda smiled though confusion filled her eyes. Trent’s disgruntled frown was exaggerated in an obvious attempt to make her laugh harder. She loved these people, and they loved her back.
A blessed freedom she hadn’t realized she’d missed the past few months filled her heart. It was a new confidence that would probably falter at the next ballroom door, but for that moment she was nothing but herself. It felt glorious.
“Wasn’t it better than eating alone, Trent?” Amelia’s giggles settled into a wide grin.
“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have the chance to find out.”
“Find out what? If it’s as delightful as Amelia’s smile indicates, I want to be included in the revelation.”
Amelia turned, a smile still stretched across her face, to see Anthony dismounting from his horse. Tossing the reins to his groom he
“It feels odd having Trent out of the house,” Miranda said.
Amelia thought of all the school stories Trent had shared. “Hasn’t he been out of the house for years?”
“But his home was still with us. Now he has lodgings of his own.”
“Imagine how strange it is for me. He’s living in my old home.” Amelia grinned at Miranda, hoping to disguise how strange it truly made her feel. She’d been visiting several times a week with Mrs. Harris, Lydia, and Fenton. Those visits would have to stop since Trent had officially taken possession of the house yesterday.
“You realize I’m here, don’t you?” Trent asked.
Miranda continued the conversation without acknowledging his interruption. “I suppose it would be difficult for you. I mean, he’s eating at your old dining table.” A wide grin split Miranda’s face. “Do you think he kept all the curtains? I believe I remember seeing lace in a window or two.”
“Mrs. Harris planned to remove the more feminine frippery from around the house.”
Trent coughed. “I am walking between the two of you, even.”
Miranda frowned. “That is no fun at all. I shall continue thinking of him drowning in ruffles. It makes me laugh.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. The image was certainly a funny one, but it was also disturbing. Trent was eating off dishes she used every day in her former life. He was sitting on the sofas that she’d had re-covered. At least Mrs. Harris had set him up in one of the other bedrooms so she didn’t have to picture that awkward scenario.
“How was your first evening in your new home, Trent?” Amelia hoped hearing Trent’s stories would make the house more his than hers.
“Oh, so we’ve decided I can be part of the conversation now?” Trent straightened his cuffs. “You neglected to mention that you lived in the strangest house in London.”
Amelia frowned in confusion.
Miranda laughed. “I’ve been in the house, brother. There’s nothing strange about it.”
Trent grunted. “They ate dinner with me.”
Amelia giggled.
“Who ate dinner with you?” Miranda’s brows drew down over her eyes.
Amelia’s giggles grew into a laugh. She could visualize what must have happened.
“Who do you think ate dinner with me?” Trent stopped and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You couldn’t have invited guests over. Half of your things are still at Hawthorne House.”
Amelia gave in. The idea of Mrs. Harris and Fenton sitting down to dinner and treating Trent the way they had treated her was too comedic to resist. The brown ringlets Iris had so carefully fashioned that morning bobbed happily against her head. It certainly wasn’t fashionable to laugh this loud or this long, but Amelia didn’t care.
That realization distracted her brain enough to allow the laughter to begin to ebb. She didn’t care! From the first moment Amelia had met Miranda, she had been constantly worried about her dress, her manners, and her speech. The desire to impress engulfed her, even after securing a place in the family.
Her gaze flew around the circle, touching on the now familiar faces. Miranda smiled though confusion filled her eyes. Trent’s disgruntled frown was exaggerated in an obvious attempt to make her laugh harder. She loved these people, and they loved her back.
A blessed freedom she hadn’t realized she’d missed the past few months filled her heart. It was a new confidence that would probably falter at the next ballroom door, but for that moment she was nothing but herself. It felt glorious.
“Wasn’t it better than eating alone, Trent?” Amelia’s giggles settled into a wide grin.
“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have the chance to find out.”
“Find out what? If it’s as delightful as Amelia’s smile indicates, I want to be included in the revelation.”
Amelia turned, a smile still stretched across her face, to see Anthony dismounting from his horse. Tossing the reins to his groom he
Similar Books
