“YOU SHOULD be resting, child.” Aunt Elizabeth entered the study and settled herself on the couch. “Your time is near.”
“I felt a sudden urge to straighten this desk.” Amy sorted through the heap of yellowed receipts she’d found crammed in the bottom drawer, then held one up. “This is dated 1660, the year King Charles granted Greystone to Colin. My husband is a secret sluggard.” She grinned. “Besides, I’m not made for resting; you know that.”
“Your Uncle William says the same thing about me. The Goldsmith curse, he calls it.”
The paper fluttered to the desk. “The Goldsmith curse,” Amy repeated in a whisper, thinking not of the work ethic, but her cursed promise.
The Goldsmith curse.
“What did you say, dear?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
The room fell quiet except for the rustle of paper. Amy felt Aunt Elizabeth’s gaze following her as she moved back and forth, filing the receipts.
“What’s wrong, child?” Aunt Elizabeth asked at last, her voice heavy with loving sympathy.
Amy’s eyes filled with tears. Her emotions were so close to the surface these days; she was either violently happy or in the depths of despair; there seemed to be no middle ground.
“I don’t know, Auntie.” She leaned both palms on the desk, staring down, studying the grain in the wood. “I was so happy this morning.”
“This wouldn’t have something to do with a vow to your father, would it?”
Amy watched a tear splash onto the scarred surface of Colin’s desk. “How did you know?”
“Colin.” A long sigh escaped Aunt Elizabeth’s lips. “But you haven’t discussed this with him, have you?”
Amy shook her head.
“For heaven’s sake, child, how can you let a promise to a dead man stand in the way of your happiness?”
“He told me I cannot have everything,” Amy said in a tiny voice.
“Colin said that?” Aunt Elizabeth sounded incredulous.
“No, Papa said it.”
“Oh, balderdash. My brother was a lot of things, but open-minded wasn’t one of them.”
Amy flinched with a sudden cramp in her middle. “Yet it’s true, isn’t it?” she said when the pain eased. “I’m with Colin now, and I have so much. I must learn to live with the fact that I cannot have everything.”
“Poppycock. Hugh couldn’t possibly have foreseen your future. He’s dead, Amy. The shop is gone.” Her voice gentled. “You’re a countess, child. Were your father here today, do you honestly think he’d withhold his blessing?”
“I don’t know.” Amy dropped onto Colin’s chair. “Goldsmith and Sons was everything to Papa.”
Sighing, Aunt Elizabeth stood up. “You can have everything, if you’ll but listen to your heart. You need only speak with Colin—”
“About this? He’s already told me—”
“He’s not your father. Talk to him. You can live up to your vow—perhaps not literally, but the spirit, child. You can live up to the spirit of your vow, if you’ll only approach your husband with open trust. He deserves that much, Amy.”
She walked around the desk and leaned to kiss Amy on both cheeks. “Think about it. Now, I’m an old woman who has traveled many miles, and I think I need a nap.”
Sniffling, Amy ventured a shaky smile. “Good heavens, Auntie. An old woman, indeed!”
Another cramp shot through Amy, but that didn’t mean the baby was coming. He couldn’t be coming—Colin had left to spend the whole day inspecting the estate.
Besides, she’d been having cramps for nearly eight weeks now, and they’d never meant anything before.
GREYSTONE HUMMED with productivity. Colin rode toward the fields at the far end of the property, certain the sheep and crops would prove as well maintained as the lumber operation and quarry already had. Amy was a talented estate manager. Almost as talented as she’d been a jeweler.
A jeweler…
He looked down to his hands on Ebony’s reins, at the band of white skin that marked where his signet ring used to rest. After all these months, he felt almost naked without it. And Amy…
Amy could make him another.
He smiled to himself, remembering her pride in her craft, the glow in her eyes when she shared the treasures in her trunk. Her joy at discovering the origin of her wedding ring. Her fingers absently caressing the necklace she’d worn to Whitehall Palace.
For certain, she’d enjoy making him another ring.
He reined in as the realization stole his breath away.
Hang it, what an idiot he’d been! She missed her craft—it was in her blood, as much a part of her as her amethyst eyes and her quick smile. She’d make him another ring, and then…
He knew how to make her happy.
Colin wheeled round toward the castle. The rest of the estate could wait for an inspection. He couldn’t wait to see Amy’s face when he told her. The distracted, sad look would leave her eyes. She’d throw her arms around him, kissing him all over his face in that exuberant way of hers.
He dug in his heels, urging Ebony into a gallop.