Heart of Decadence (Handful of Hearts Book 5)

by Jenna Jaxon

  Yes, at last one person in the world knew her innocence without doubt. “I suppose gentlemen cannot talk about such things, not even to other gentlemen.”

  “Oh, we could, but it would do no good.” Nathan nuzzled his lips between her breasts then nibbled his way down to her stomach. “Even if I told every man in Christendom that you were a virgin until we married, they would simply think I was lying in order to save my honor and your reputation.”

  “How terrible! I know you would never do such a thing, Nathan. You are too honorable to lie, even about something like that.” How could the ton disparage his reputation thus? Wasn’t it bad enough that they still assumed her guilt?

  “My love.” He rested his cheek against her, his night beard prickly on her soft skin. “If your honor were concerned, I wouldn’t care what they said about me. No gentleman would. And all the other gentlemen know that, ergo, even though I know the truth, and can speak it all day long, I will not be believed. Therefore, I must meet with Marcus and plot a strategy to continue our bid for the return of your reputation.”

  “We must meet with Lord Haversham.”

  “We?” Nathan gazed up at her, making him look funny, with his chin upside down.

  “I should be with you to devise the strategy. I know what has happened every step of the way for ten years. If there’s something I can remember, or bring to light, I had best be there to do it, don’t you think?”

  Rolling over so that he now lay sprawled over top of her, he kissed her navel, making her gasp. “Yes, I do. Not to mention, I do not wish to let you out of my sight.” He wiggled his eyebrows and she burst out laughing.

  “But surely we cannot do such things as this at Lord Haversham’s house.”

  His stare turned hot once more. “I will only say, Amelia, that you have been married less than a day. You still have a lot to learn.”

  Her breath caught as he lowered his mouth to her flesh once more then stopped and raised his head. “One question did cross my mind at some point during our lovemaking last night.”

  “What was that?”

  “Why did you not anticipate your wedding with Lord Carrington?” He sat up a little, his hand cupping her face. “Not that I’m not grateful you didn’t, but you were betrothed. Almost every betrothed couple I’ve known for the past five years has apparently begun their marriage before their vows were spoken.”

  “Even your sister and Lord Haversham?” Raising her eyebrows, she stared back at him. She knew the truth but wondered if he did.

  He pressed his lips tightly together. “I do not know for certain. Marcus procured the special license rather quickly, but still….” He glared at her. “That is how gossip begins and I would not have Kate the talk of the ton.”

  “Neither would I. But I will answer your question, my love.” She drew him back down to her, until he pressed her again with his full weight. “I did not anticipate my wedding with Lord Carrington, nor would I have done so with any other man, because he was not you.”

  “Not me?” Nathan had gone so still she could hear his heartbeat.

  “No. No one else, even the man I agreed to marry, was you.” She’d thought about this on the day she’d accepted Jonathan. Had they married, she’d have done her duty by him, but her heart had been lost forever to Lord Ainsley. “I told you during our first carriage ride that things would have been quite different if the gentleman in question had been you. For you alone would I have given myself without my vows. A silly thing, perhaps, but since I would have to marry and consummate my marriage, my only way of being faithful to you, in my mind, was to give myself to no one until I legally belonged to another man.”

  “Amelia.” Nathan dropped his head back onto her stomach and kissed her. “You have given me the most precious gift, my love. Nothing I can give you will ever compare to it.”

  “You are gift enough for me.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I do so love you.”

  “And I you.”

  “Show me.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Chapter 9

  The next afternoon, Amelia sat in the drawing room, self-consciously the hostess of a very odd meeting. Nathan had sent around a note first thing this morning asking his friend and sister to come ’round, and they’d brought Lady Celinda, deeming her a “secret weapon,” according to Kate. Amelia had just ordered tea and was chatting with the other two ladies while her husband had his head together with his friend at the sideboard.

  “I was truly shocked that Mrs. Doyle and her charge… What’s her name, Celinda?” Kate turned to her cousin then back to Amelia. “I forget. There’s such a crop of young ladies coming out this year.”

  “Miss Sharpe. Amanda Sharpe. Who’s in love with Lord Somersby.” Celinda nodded her head sagely. “I’ve spoken to her about his inappropriate behavior at Lady Marbury’s Christmas house party last year, but she’s determined to secure him.” Sighing, Celinda shook her head until her curls bounced. “I fear he will make a cake of her before it’s all over. Some men simply cannot be trusted.”

  “Perhaps it will come all right in the end.” Amelia sighed in relief as the tea arrived. Now she would have something to do other than sit like a bump on a log. “Sugar and milk, Kate?”

  “Milk, no sugar, please. Let us leave others’ problems to them. Lord knows, our own will be quite enough for us to conquer. Anyway,” Kate paused to take a sip, “neither Mrs. Doyle nor Miss Sharpe were in attendance at the wedding breakfast.”

  “Nor Lady Burgess nor Lady Scops,” Celinda added. “Which truly surprised me. She usually attends every wedding breakfast, christening, confirmation, and wake within a five-mile walk of her house.”

  “Oh, dear.” Amelia had slopped the tea over into the saucer. This sounded so dire. What if they could not persuade the ladies of the ton to accept her back into their ranks? Not only would it dash the hopes of her sisters for a Season next year, but it would reflect poorly on Nathan to have married such an undesirable.

  “Do not worry, Amelia.” Celinda had taken the teapot from her hostess and was pouring her own tea. “Between the five of us, we will come up with a scheme that will bring the ton around to the conclusion that you’re not the wanton they believe you are.” Lady Celinda stopped, apparently realizing the import of her words. “I beg your pardon, Amelia, but I am certain you know what I mean.”

  “Nathan and I were discussing that last night.” The image of them lying naked in her bed, talking about how to scotch the scandal brought heat rushing to her cheeks. She clapped her hands over her face. “Has it gotten warm in here?”

  Kate smothered a smile, while Celinda seemed to ignore her question. “Did you come up with some solution? I daresay you had a similar discussion with your parents when the rumors first surfaced ten years ago.”

  “Yes, I told Nathan as much.” She gulped and continued. “My parents tried every way they knew of to refute the gossip, but nothing worked. After the maid told another servant that she’d found blood on my sheets when I’d been ill, the gossip intensified. I tried to explain it was my courses, but they didn’t want to listen. People came forward and falsely said I’d confided in them about my plight.” The anger at those who’d unabashedly lied about her had never quite left her. “I never confided anything to anyone. There was nothing to confide.”

  “Nothing?” Stirring her tea, Kate leaned toward her. “Surely you spoke to someone other than your mother about your relationship with Lord Carrington?”

  Sadly, Amelia shook her head. “I was still distraught over the defection of your brother. That was why I accepted Lord Carrington so quickly, to soothe myself that someone wanted me, loved me enough to marry me. I didn’t talk to anyone about Lord Carrington because there was really nothing for me to tell. I was going to marry him so I could be married and perhaps forget about Nathan.”

  Celinda cocked her head. “I was wondering, after all this fuss about you anticipating your wedding vows, did Lord Carrington ever actually ask you to
do such a thing?”

  “He certainly did.” Amelia rolled her eyes, making the others giggle. “Almost from the moment I accepted him. He had not struck me before as a man with that voracious an appetite, but I assume once he thought I belonged to him, even on the strength of the settlements, he thought I should act like we were married.”

  “Did Lord Carrington ever correspond with anyone about your marriage?” Bouncing on the edge of her chair, Celinda held her teacup out so it wouldn’t splash onto her green and gold gown. “A friend he may have confided in that you were not behaving toward him as you should, or some such nonsense?”

  “What nonsense are you coming up with now, cousin?” Nathan had sauntered up, followed by Marcus.

  “We are trying to ascertain whether or not either Amelia or Lord Carrington ever corresponded with someone to whom they may have poured their hearts out.” Dropping two goodish lumps of sugar into her cup, Celinda stirred and sat back down next to Amelia.

  “Did you, my love?” Nathan settled into the chair next to Amelia’s. “Write to anyone?”

  Racking her brain to remember, she finally shook her head. “I do not recall writing to anyone during that time, save Jonathan himself.”

  All their gazes turned to Amelia. She shrank back in her chair. What had she said?

  “Amelia, you wrote to your betrothed?” Even Kate looked shocked.

  “My love, why did you not tell me this before? This may be our salvation.” Nathan grabbed her hands. “Do you have the correspondence at your parents’ home? If he wrote to you about his demands…”

  “He did.” Amelia puckered her lips. “Nearly every one of his letters had some kind of insinuation or outright suggestion that we become intimate before the ceremony. By the time we ceased the correspondence, I dreaded receiving the letters at all.”

  “Then here is the proof!” Nathan grabbed her up out of the chair and hugged her. “These letters show without a doubt that you did not succumb to his persuasions.” He tilted his head back and forth, his puzzled expression deepening. “Why did you not show the correspondence when you were accused before?”

  “Because I do not have it, my love.” Amelia hung her head. She’d gone through this with her parents all those years ago.

  “You burned the letters?” Celinda had clasped her hands, almost in a prayerful attitude.

  “No, I never possessed them.”

  “What?” Her husband spoke, but all her friends looked the question as well.

  “I’ve begun this badly. It is a little involved, as many requests of Jonathan’s tended to be. Please, my dear, sit down.” She seated herself and picked up her now-cold tea. “Let me ring for more.”

  “I’ll ring for tea.” Marcus waved her back into her seat. “Begin your tale, my lady. I am all ears to find out what the devil went on.”

  “Very well.” Amelia sat with her hands primly folded in her lap. “Our correspondence began almost as soon as the ink had dried on the settlement papers. I was surprised and pleased to receive the first one, which was most flattering, as I recall. But soon after they became much more amorous and he began to suggest assignations where we might meet to become more…intimate.” It had been difficult enough to confess all this to her parents; however, to be stating it all so baldly before her husband and his family… She closed her eyes against tears. It had been her own folly not to inform her mother about the content of the letters. She must pay the piper yet again, it seemed.

  “Please continue, my dear.” Nathan had gathered her hand in his and threaded their fingers together.

  Nodding, she summoned her courage once more. “To discourage him, I told him I was afraid my mother might intercept the letters and intimated that she would read my correspondence from time to time. I hoped this would curb his epistolary efforts, but instead he came up with a plan to circumvent my scheme. He arranged with a former housemaid of his, who now lived in London, to receive our letters. The idea was for her to hold my letters from him until I called for them. I would read them and leave them with the maid, Mary Adams. I would also leave any letters for Jonathan with Miss Adams to pass on.”

  “So where is this Mary Adams now? How may we locate her?” Nathan leaped to his feet, so animated she believed he might try to fly around the room.

  “My parents tried, but after Jonathan’s death everything was in disarray for a month at the least. Then when the rumors began, they questioned me, and I told them about Mary Adams.” She looked from Nathan’s hopeful face to Celinda’s more cautious one. “I gave Father her address, but by then, she’d left. No one there knew where she’d moved to. Father even questioned Lord Carrington’s other servants, but the maid had been gone for some time and they could not hazard a guess where she might be.” Amelia shrugged. “So you see, the letters are well and truly lost—either thrown away, which I think is most likely, or still with the missing Mary Adams.”

  The silence around the room would deafen her in a moment.

  “Well, this seems discouraging and particularly futile.” Celinda spoke up, the only one of them not looking like grim Death had come to visit. “Still, I think we may as well do some sleuthing rather than staying home feeling helpless.”

  “Celinda is correct, Marcus.” His wife reached for his hand and he gave it to her immediately. “We can still do something, even if there’s not much evidence left. We must make a start.”

  “Then we are agreed we shall try to locate Mary Adams?” Nathan rose and the others followed suit. “Marcus and I will approach Carrington’s family. See if they or their servants remember anything of Mary. Also if they have any other correspondence belonging to Carrington. It’s long odds, but it won’t hurt to ask.”

  “Kate, Celinda, and I will return to the lodgings where Mary lived ten years ago. Perhaps neighbors will remember her still or have some idea where she may have gone.” Amelia sighed. “These are not odds I would wager very much on, my dear.” She gazed up at Nathan, love for him warring with the dismay of fighting the same losing battle once more.

  “Do not fret, love.” He pulled her into his arms, and she reveled in the comfort she found in his touch. “We will find a way to vindicate you and restore you to Society where you deserve to be.”

  “And if we cannot?”

  He sighed and held her closer. “We will cross that stream when we come to it.”

  Chapter 10

  Nearly two weeks later, Nathan sat in the taproom at an inn near Luton, only a mile from the Carrington ancestral estate. He’d been knocking around the area for several days, gathering as much information about the estate and its inhabitants as possible and had finally had a piece of luck last evening. Answering his question about the estate servants, the barmaid had told him he should speak with Giles Saunders, who used to be the coachman for the young Lord Carrington who’d died. Nathan had managed to send a message, via the lass, and now sat drinking a pint, waiting for the man to appear.

  Weary with the search, but determined to see it through, Nathan prayed Mr. Saunders had real information. He’d heard from Amelia that she and the ladies had found nothing in Mary’s lodgings in London. The nearby tenants had all changed from ten years before and even the landlord didn’t remember a Mary Adams after so long. Marcus had remained in London to continue his chaperonage of his sister but had made inquiries about Carrington to several of his friends at his club who remembered the man. This, unfortunately, had turned up nothing useful. Mr. Saunders looked more and more like their last hope.

  An older man, tall and a little stooped, entered the taproom, peering about the dim interior as if looking for someone.

  “That’s him, your lordship.” Molly, the barmaid, had come up behind him. “Mr. Saunders,” she called to the man, who smiled at her when she beckoned him over. “Lord Ainsley, this is Mr. Saunders who worked for Lord Carrington’s nephew, the young Lord Carrington who died. This here’s Lord Ainsley, Mr. Saunders.” She smiled encouragingly at the man, whose gaze shifted nervou
sly from her to him.

  “How do you do, Mr. Saunders. May I buy you a drink?” Nathan nodded to Molly, who hurried away.

  “Why do you wish to speak to me, your lordship? I’ve not worked at the Carrington estate for more than ten years. Not since the young master died.”

  “And before that, how long had you been with the family?”

  “All my life, my lord. I started there as a stable lad.”

  “But you left? Why?” Nathan had sized the man up as a decent chap but would’ve assumed he’d remain in a good post with the family he’d served so long.

  “New master brought his own coachman and grooms. Turned the whole lot of us off.”

  “Ah.” Nathan nodded. That did happen from time to time. “I am sorry to hear that. You found another position, I trust.”

  The man shrugged. “I’ve made do the last few years.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Molly set a pint of ale on the table and Nathan nodded to Mr. Saunders, who took a cautious sip.

  “Mr. Saunders, I’ve come to ask you if you remember a housemaid who worked for Lord Carrington, a Mary Adams? Molly here seemed to think you might know something about her.”

  “Why’re you asking, my lord? She’s not in trouble, is she?” A keen concern appeared on Saunders’s face.

  “No, no trouble. I simply need to talk to her about a service she may have done for my wife some years ago. She was Miss Burrowes who was betrothed to Lord Carrington.”

  “Ah, Miss Burrowes.” Saunders smiled and nodded, suddenly more at ease. “She was a sweet lady, my lord. My master was very fond of her indeed. Shame he died before they could wed.”