Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half

by Grace, Samantha

  She entwined her fingers and squeezed them together on her lap. For the tenth time since her carriage had turned off Half Moon Street onto Piccadilly, she questioned her sanity in venturing out alone.

  A chance meeting with Lord Banner without Amelia to shield her would be dreadful indeed. Bibi cringed. The baron disgusted her, and his boasting that they were lovers created all sorts of unkind sentiments toward her. Lovers indeed. She would never classify them as such. Even worse would be an encounter with his vicious wife this evening. Lady Banner was a horrid woman to be certain. The only decent thing about the baroness was her brother, Lord Norwick.

  Bibi sank against the seat back with a soft smile. To look at the earl, one would think him a complete buffoon, but after the way he had touched her… Good heavens, the memories still brought her shivers.

  When the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the opera house, exuberance bubbled up inside her despite her frayed nerves. Norwick was escorting his sister to the opera this evening. Seeking out the earl could be a monumental mistake, but it wouldn’t be Bibi’s first. Nor did she expect this to be her last.

  A footman opened the door to assist her from the carriage. Bibi clutched her fan and pulled her Chinese silk wrap around her shoulders as she passed through the double doors of the Theatre Royal. A multitude of eyes turned her direction. Their faces blurred as her breaths came quicker. Willing herself to breathe slower, she waited until everything came into focus again before putting on the same performance she had been for the last two years. She straightened her spine, lifted her head, and pasted on a brilliant smile, maintaining this facade all the way to her box before almost collapsing onto the crimson velvet chair.

  Retrieving her opera glasses from her reticule, she scanned the other boxes for Norwick. Lord and Lady Banner’s box was filled with Lord Banner’s associates, but neither Norwick nor his sister sat among the group.

  How curious that Norwick was attending the opera tonight. He didn’t seem the type. Bibi couldn’t recall ever seeing him at the theatre, but sadly, the earl had been below her notice before the masked ball. Lowering the glasses, she tried to remember the location of the Norwick family box. It seemed his father had rented a spot on the second level across the way. Bibi raised the glasses again.

  There was Norwick, peering back at her and grinning like a dolt. Bibi couldn’t hold back her own version of a fool’s smile. She gave a subtle wave, which he returned, but his friendliness was short-lived.

  Norwick’s troll of a sister smacked his arm with her fan as she scolded the earl. He lowered the glasses and looked away with a frown. The sting of his cut hurt even after the lights lowered. Bibi forced her eyes away from Norwick as the actors took the stage.

  The imaginary world of The Talisman of Oromanes soon drew her in, and she pushed aside thoughts of the earl and his disappointing reaction to seeing her again. So lost was she in the performance, she experienced a pang of disappointment when intermission came, especially since it appeared Lord Norwick would snub her like his sister always did.

  Still, she wouldn’t cower in her box. With all the dignity she possessed, Bibi stood and pushed her way through the curtains.

  A hulking figure outside caused her to jump. Captain Hillary cocked a grin. “Lady Kennell.”

  “Captain Hillary, I did not expect to see you again.”

  “And here I thought we’d had an enjoyable encounter.”

  He was a charming and roguish man but not one with whom she desired a repeat assignation. Bibi should send him away, but a formidable presence by her side possessed great appeal. She slipped her arm through his. “Had, Captain Hillary, as in the past tense.”

  He patted her hand. “Understood, my lady, but perhaps you could use an ally this evening given your usual companion is missing.” He led her toward the foyer. “Are you behaving yourself so far?”

  Ah, it seemed the captain was on a mission. “You may tell your brother I have run off with the gypsies. I don’t require a keeper. He is marrying Lady Audley, not me.”

  “Now, now, my dear. We know how Lady Audley worries for you. Jake only wishes to keep her happy.”

  She sniffed. Mr. Hillary was too presumptuous. “I don’t require an escort, Captain.”

  “You have no fear of swimming alone with the barracudas? You must possess a set of brass ballocks, my dear.” He winked.

  His off-color compliment pleased Bibi even though she didn’t wish to show it. There was no reason to mislead him into thinking he might charm her. “Why, thank you, Captain.”

  He leaned close to speak in her ear. “Banner hasn’t made a nuisance of himself this evening, has he?”

  Her gaze darted toward him.

  His earnest eyes stared back. “My brother feared the baron might inflict his unwelcomed company on you again without an escort. Banner altered his course when he spotted me outside your box.”

  Bibi’s heart expanded, and warmth radiated through her. Mr. Hillary had realized she wished nothing to do with Lord Banner after all, and he was concerned for her welfare. She almost could forgive him for speaking harshly to her.

  “Yes, well, that was almost thoughtful of Mr. Hillary.”

  “I shall take the liberty of telling him so.”

  “Please don’t.”

  The opera boasted an excellent turnout, resulting in a crush in the foyer. Her fingers curled tighter around Captain Hillary’s arm.

  “Shall we seek out refreshment?” her companion asked.

  She nodded. Perhaps she wouldn’t cross paths with Norwick given the size of the crowd, which would please her to no end. Of all gents to give her the cut direct… Her chest tightened. Lord Norwick was unlike any man she had ever considered in the past, and the only one she had genuinely liked.

  ***

  Jasper pawned his sister off onto a group of gossipmongers to keep her occupied during intermission and left in search of Bianca. He’d had enough of his sister and her harping on the lovely viscountess. When would Fi realize he did not have to listen to her? He was an earl, and if he wished to pursue a nubile, younger, sensual…

  Lord Almighty, there weren’t enough words in his vocabulary to describe how beautiful Bianca looked tonight. She had chosen a delightfully revealing sapphire gown that hinted at the treasures beneath her fragile garment, and he yearned for a closer look.

  Finding her in this mad crush might be a challenge, though. He weaved through the overdressed fops and gentle ladies, doing his best to avoid meeting anyone’s eye for fear of someone detaining him. After several moments slipped by without locating the magnificent goddess, Jasper’s frustration mounted.

  Blasted clock, blasted crowd, and blasted Fiona! His sister wasn’t a debutante in need of a chaperone. Inspiration struck. He would rush Fi back to her seat early then linger outside Bianca’s box, and perhaps secure an invitation back to her town house.

  Fiona grumbled when he insisted she return to her seat early, but Jasper gave her no choice. His fingers clamped around her upper arm and pulled her along to their seats.

  “What is the meaning of this, Norwick?”

  He deposited her at the box. “Sit down and hold your tongue,” he said, “or else sit with your husband.”

  Fiona folded her arms across her chest and dropped onto a chair with a grunt, one of those fabricated little sounds that thin people made just to annoy the plumper ones.

  “He does not wish for my company,” she grumbled.

  Jasper would like to say he could empathize with his brother-in-law, but he didn’t wish to hurt Fi, no matter how annoying she could be. “You are welcome to sit here, but I must attend to a matter. I may not return either, but I will send the carriage to take you home.” He dashed away before she could pose any inquiries.

  With a skip to his step, he skirted the remaining patrons loitering in the foyer and ran up the stairs on the opposite side of the opera house. He reached Bianca’s box and peeked through the parted curtains to discover she hadn’t ret
urned. Taking up position to intercept her, he waited.

  Finely dressed ladies and gentlemen filed past him. Some tossed curious glances his direction before moving on without a word. After several moments with no sign of Bianca, Jasper began to worry she had departed already, but her laughter lifted his spirits and brought an eager smile to his lips. He stepped from the corner with a pleasant greeting at the ready and balked.

  Bianca—his Bianca—strolled along the corridor on Captain Daniel Hillary’s arm.

  “Norwick,” she exclaimed on a rush of breath. Her brown eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

  “Lady Kennell,” he said with a bow.

  Damnation. He was an unforgivable fool. Why would Bianca, so perfect and delectable, have any interest in a frumpy codger like him? She could have any spirited buck of her choosing. Just look at her with that smug bugger Hillary.

  “Is the earl bothering you, my dear?” the captain asked.

  “No, he is a harmless sort. You may leave us.”

  Hillary lifted her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you for the honor of your delightful company, my lady. I shall remain at the theatre until you have no more need for me.”

  He ambled back down the corridor as if he owned the bloody passageway then disappeared down the stairs.

  “I asked what you are doing here, my lord.”

  Jasper fidgeted with his coat sleeves, unsure what to do with his hands. “I wished to extend my greetings.”

  “Indeed.” The lady cocked a hip, drawing his notice to her sleek body. “Did Lady Banner finally grant her permission?”

  Jasper frowned at her sarcastic tone and jab at his manhood. Granted, he couldn’t boast bulging muscles like Captain Hillary—the man was an unnatural phenomenon—but Jasper possessed what he needed to distinguish him as a man.

  “I do not require anyone’s permission to do anything,” he snapped. “I am a lord of the realm.”

  The corridor was empty now, and music swelled on the air. Bianca took two steps forward. Her head rolled back as she tipped her pretty face up toward him. “It seems to me your sister has ample control over you, my lord, to the point of directing who you can and cannot ogle.”

  “I may ogle anyone of my choosing,” he said through clenched teeth. His gaze roved over her body to illustrate his point. A flush rose up her chest. “And may I say, Bianca, your breasts look positively delicious in that dress.”

  Her breath hitched. “Lord Norwick!”

  Bugger. Jasper might have taken liberties he shouldn’t have. He thought to apologize at once, but a mischievous spark lit her eyes.

  “Are you indicating you do not require your sister’s permission to take me home for a tumble?”

  This time Jasper gasped, but it transformed into a guttural growl. “The hell I would. I’ll take you home right now and shag you every which way known to man.”

  Her delicate hand fluttered over her heart as color flooded her cheeks. “Oh, my, Jasper. Do you truly know so many ways? Then please, let’s not dawdle.”

  Jasper smiled. One thing he appreciated about Bianca was her directness. He needn’t guess at anything she wanted, and the way she looked at him with her smoldering cocoa eyes said she wanted him.

  His blood pounded in his ears and his mouth went dry. She had incited his temper and driven him to make such a bold proposition. But he had never bedded a beauty like Bianca, nor one as delicate. What if he flattened her like a French crepe?

  Her hands went to her hips, and her arched brows pulled together. “Why are you hesitating? Is it your sister again?”

  He would be mad to pass up this opportunity. Tempted to toss the lady over his shoulder, but knowing such action would set tongues to wagging and possibly wrench his back, he instead hooked arms and raced with her toward the theatre exit to call for his carriage.

  The wait for his driver was torturous, and even though he was about to engage in the most intimate of acts with Bianca, he couldn’t think of a thing to say. He had never romanced a lady before. Did they wish gentlemen to woo them first, perhaps reciting poetry?

  He could do that. In a moment. Once something came to mind. He frantically searched his memory for anything—anything at all—but only a childhood rhyme came to mind. And it wouldn’t blasted go away.

  Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross. Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross.

  “Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross,” he mumbled, “to see a fine lady upon a white horse.”

  Damnation. That wouldn’t do.

  Bianca squeezed his arm. “With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes.” She laughed. “Norwick, what are you doing reciting children’s rhymes?”

  He broke into a cold sweat and ducked his head. But when Bianca positioned herself where she could gaze up into his eyes, her expression was one of delight.

  “I thought to recite poetry,” he admitted, his cheeks flaming even hotter. “But I could only think of this ridiculous rhyme.”

  The carriage rolled up, ending their conversation. The lady accepted the footman’s assistance without hesitation. Once she and Jasper settled on the bench side by side and the carriage jerked forward, she took his hand in hers.

  “That is the sweetest thing any man has ever done to impress me.”

  He had impressed her? Surely not.

  Her face was lit with adoration when she looked up at him. He sank against the seat back.

  “You make everything easy on me, Bianca. Thank you.”

  Sixteen

  Jake stood among the children gathered around the wingback chair where Amelia would soon perch to read the book she had brought for the occasion. He had been pleased by her invitation to accompany her for the weekly story time at the foundling hospital, but now that he was here, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. The drawing room was noticeably lacking in seating with only one upholstered piece and a ladder-back chair with a wobbly leg.

  Amelia cooed to a rosy-cheeked babe in her arms and placed a kiss on his pale hair before handing the boy back to the nurse. At least Jake thought the babe was a male child. It was difficult to tell the difference when their nurses dressed them in gowns like ladies.

  “Take your places, children,” Amelia called. Her voice was merry and her eyes shone with animated light.

  A smile pulled at his lips. She enjoyed her time with the orphans. He hadn’t been certain of her affection for the children, though he had believed in her sincere desire to improve their living quarters. Many ladies took on charitable causes, but he always had the impression their involvement was a necessary drudgery.

  Amelia gestured to the hardwood chair. “Would you like to have a seat as well, Mr. Hillary?”

  He didn’t dare sit on the rickety chair with his tendency toward clumsy displays at the most inopportune moments. “That’s all right, my lady. I shall stand unobtrusively over there.” He pointed to the wall behind Amelia’s chair.

  The slight crease between her arched brows appeared. “As you wish.”

  She picked up the book lying on the chair cushion then lowered to the seat. “This evening’s reading is from The Life and Perambulation of a Mouse by Mrs. Dorothy Kilner.”

  The children sat on the wide, plank floor at Amelia’s feet, which appeared too hard for their tiny bums by half. Perhaps he would send ’round a carpet on the morrow.

  Amelia opened the book on her lap and began the reading. “Like all other newborn animals, whether of the human, or any other species, I cannot pretend to remember what passed during my infant days.”

  Her soothing voice lulled the children, and they settled in to listen to more of her tale, but only a little ways into the reading, the younger ones began shifting positions and their gazes wandered about the room. Mrs. Kilner was losing their attention. Jake wanted to assist his betrothed, but he was unsure on what to do.

  “Impatient to use our liberty,” she continued, “we all set forward in search of some food.
”

  Jake pretended to shade his eyes from the sun, crouched low, and scanned the area, all with a silly expression, eyes being crossed and all. His dramatic interpretation earned several giggles, drawing the notice of some of the other children.

  Amelia paused briefly to study her audience before returning to the story. “Or rather some adventure…”

  Lifting his hand into the air, Jake lunged as if engaging in swordplay. More ripples of laughter traveled the half circle at Amelia’s feet.

  She read on. “…as our mother had left us victuals more than sufficient to supply the wants of that day. With a great deal of difficulty, we clambered up a high wall on the inside of a wainscot.”

  He pantomimed scrambling up a ladder then wiping the sweat from his brow with an exaggerated, though silent, huff of breath.

  The children’s delighted response buoyed his spirits. Perhaps he had a knack for tots after all.

  Amelia lowered the book to her lap, palms on the pages, and leaned forward. “Children,” she said in a loud whisper, “what mischief is Mr. Hillary up to behind me?”

  Jake placed his finger over his lips as if to beg their silence, which caused a high-spirited uproar.

  Turning in the chair, Amelia caught him in the act of misbehavior. He shoved his hands behind his back, looked up at the ceiling, and whistled nonchalantly.

  Her soft chuckle warmed his insides and drew his gaze. How strikingly beautiful she was when she was happy, her eyes more brilliant, her mouth pliable, her perfect complexion radiant. At that moment, he vowed to keep Amelia happy for the remainder of their lives together, perhaps even beyond.

  “I believe we have a thespian in our midst. Pray, Mr. Hillary, do continue. The children are enchanted by your performance.”

  He bowed with added flourish. “At your command, my lady.”

  As Amelia continued the story, his actions became larger and more outlandish until all of them laughed, he and Amelia included. When the time came to end their reading for the evening, the children protested.