Lady Pamela by Amy Lake

Author:Amy Lake [Lake, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2003-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Friends, Lord Torrance had said.

Lady Pamela sighed. The easing of tension between her and the duke had at first been a welcome relief, but they had now been friends for over a month, and it was wearing on her nerves.

The work at Marchers was not unpleasant, of course, and the redecoration was progressing nicely. Pam had enjoyed every minute of planning and shopping for the duke’s house–and to see the beautiful new fabrics at the windows, the new carpeting upon the floors, and the new furniture in every corner was a daily delight.

The chairs in the dining room, she thought, had been a particular coup. Hardles and Brown had designed a sturdy but graceful chair of oak inlaid with holly; the look was neo-classical and nicely complimented the behemoth of a table, adding a new refinement. The dining room had become one of her favorites, and she had fallen asleep on several occasions imagining the dinner parties that Lord Torrance would someday host, the gleaming china and sparkling silver, all set for fifty guests. She could almost hear the laughter, almost see the different courses as they emerged from the kitchen, carried on the shoulders of fifty smiling footmen.

Lady Pamela, of cheerful and gregarious disposition herself, found other people pleasant company. In Lady Pam’s world, footmen were allowed to smile, and one could never have too many guests. Marchers House would be a true mansion, she thought, in the old sense of that word. A place to remain, to dwell in or abide, for both family and friends. The thought cheered her, made her believe that the work had all been worthwhile, even the awkwardness and pain of being so often thrown together with Lord Torrance. Any remnants of the old sadness in the duke’s house had disappeared, and Lady Pamela liked to think that Guenevieve would have approved the change.

Rest easy, she thought. The master of this house has returned, and he is nothing like the old duke.

So Marchers was at peace. But as to her own relationship with Lord Torrance...

Friendship, thought Lady Pamela, did not feel like this. The passion that had flared between them for those few moments on the gallery carpet, was that not how they truly felt? How could she have thought it would ever fade from memory? She was a fool. Each new day, each time the duke opened the door to Marchers and welcomed her and Lady Detweiler into his home, Pamela felt the added pain.

Lord Torrance had kissed her as...as he had kissed her, long before. But since then, nothing.

How can he be so indifferent? Lady Pamela wondered, forgetting that she had once tried to claim indifference herself. He went on as before, spoke to her as before, not a sidelong glance, or an accidental touch, to let her know that they were more than... friends.

Pah, thought Lady Pam.

And she could not avoid him, not now. It was far too late to return to any previous life of merely wondering where the Duke of Grentham might be, and if he was ever to come to London.

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