The viscountess knew how to emasculate a gent, but he’d had enough of her high-handed ways. Selecting a chair that fit him better, he sank into it. “Do you know of my fiancée’s whereabouts or not?”
Lady Kennell shook her head. “I’m afraid I had no knowledge of her departure much less her destination.” She paused, her dark eyes boring into him. “For heaven’s sake. Where were you, Mr. Hillary?”
Jake started, caught unawares by her shift in topic. “I was outside your gate—”
“Not now. Really, sir, you try my patience.” Lady Kennell crossed her arms. “Where were you all those months when Amelia ached for you?”
His whereabouts were none of Lady Kennell’s concern; at least this would have been his stance as of yesterday. But he recognized the anxious concern written in the lines of her face. He and Lady Kennell had at least one thing in common.
“We both love her, my lady. Must we fight over which of us possesses the stronger sentiments?”
“You behave as if you love her now, but how can I be certain of your constancy?” Lady Kennell paused, her eyes downcast. “I cannot watch her hurting again, Mr. Hillary. I think my heart shall rip in half.”
She appeared as a lost child in that moment. Jake wanted to reach out and hold her hand for reassurance. Instead, he chose to trust her as Amelia placed her faith in her. To love every aspect of Amelia meant accepting Lady Kennell and hope she would accept him in return.
“I never intended to hurt Amelia. I’ve always wanted to marry her, but certain forces conspired to keep us apart.” He shared with her about his mother’s illness and the measures his father had taken to keep it hidden.
Lady Kennell listened, her expression unreadable throughout the telling of his story. At the conclusion, she rose from her seat and walked to the sideboard. “Perhaps you would care for a drink, Mr. Hillary?”
He accepted her peace offering, for that was how he chose to view her invitation. It might require many instances of creatively seeking the positive in Lady Kennell’s actions and biting his tongue to forge an amiable association with her, but this was what he must do to make Amelia happy.
With drinks in hand, she carried one to Jake. He accepted the goblet and sipped the bitter concoction while Lady Kennell returned to her chair.
“Please, if you know where she might be, reveal her whereabouts,” he said. “You must realize I truly love her.”
Lady Kennell glanced away. “Indeed, Mr. Hillary,” she murmured. “And I’ve never believed a man capable of love.”
Twenty-one
Amelia held her breath as her niece and nephew teetered atop that atrocious bull her husband’s family erroneously referred to as a dog. “Oh, do be careful.”
Her sister-in-law laughed at the children’s antics. “You mustn’t worry so. Rachel and Paul take a good spill at least once a day. Children are resilient.”
Amelia and Louisa sat on a blanket the servants had spread for their picnic. The newest addition to the Audley family lay between them. Baby Howie’s attempts to swallow his foot failed to ruffle Louisa any more than her older children cavorting with a dangerous beast. But Louisa’s nonchalance did nothing to reassure Amelia.
What if the horrid animal gobbled up the children? The mastiff turned his head to stare at her as if he knew her thoughts were on him. A shiver raced down her back.
While her niece and nephew had provided a pleasant diversion during her sojourn to the country—when their actions couldn’t lead to their dismemberment—Amelia was anxious to return to London. Unfortunately, when she had raised the topic over dinner last night, Louisa had insisted she remain at Crossing Meadows at least until the end of the week. It hadn’t helped matters that Rachel and Paul had pleaded with her to stay when she paid a call to the nursery earlier that morning to say good-bye.
Louisa waved her fan with a lazy flick of her wrist. “Rachel, stop tugging Alistair’s ears, love.”
The dog appeared to smile at the sound of his name, quivering strings of slobber dripping from his jowls. Amelia wrinkled her nose and looked away. She wasn’t envious of the children’s nurse. Her niece and nephew would require a good scrubbing once they returned to the house.
Baby Howie’s cooing drew her attention, and she looked down at his plump, sweet face. His blue eyes brightened when he flashed a toothless grin, and his arms and legs windmilled in a frantic burst of excited screeching.
Amelia offered her finger and his chubby hand closed around it. “Howie, you’ve stolen my heart.”
“Careful or he might steal the ring from your finger.” Louisa sat up straight and shaded her eyes. “Someone is coming up the lane.”
Amelia glanced over her shoulder at the dust cloud slowly rising above the trees lining the winding lane. “Had I known you were expecting a guest, I would have insisted on leaving today. I don’t wish to impose.”
“You are not an imposition, Amelia.” Louisa’s mouth pinched slightly as she pushed to her feet. “Thomas failed to mention he was expecting anyone. Sadly, I expect we are in for a dry evening of political commentary. Come along, children. We have a guest.”
Amelia took in the children’s bedraggled appearance and questioned Louisa’s judgment, but since Amelia was no longer the lady of the house, she held her tongue. She gathered the baby against her chest before his nurse could claim him and rose from the blanket.
Rachel and Paul slid from the dog’s back while clamping his fur in both fists. Alistair uttered no complaint but exacted his revenge when he barreled past the children and knocked Rachel to the ground.
“Oh, dear,” Amelia muttered.
Her niece pushed herself up and ran after her brother. Amelia could drive herself to an early grave worrying about these children.
As she reached the drive, the travel coach turned onto the lane leading to Crossing Meadows. It navigated the circle drive and rolled to a stop in front of the house. No markings on the door indicated who the guest might be. A coachman alighted to open the door, and a black boot emerged. Her breath caught when Jake stepped out into the sunlight.
She hugged the baby closer as her stomach knotted. Whatever was he doing at Crossing Meadows, and how had he found her?
Jake’s head swung around until his gaze landed on her; his dark brows sank low over his intense, green eyes. They were always greener when he was in a passion. He held up a folded sheet of foolscap. “Amelia, what is the meaning of this?”
He took one stride toward her, but Alistair jumped between them and issued a deep-throated growl. The hair along the beast’s back stood on end, and his muscles tensed as he crouched low.
The air around Amelia vanished. She couldn’t breathe.
Alistair paused for one still moment where she hoped she misread his intentions before he sprang through the air. His front paws struck Jake’s chest and knocked him to the dusty drive.
Louisa screamed, the veins standing out on her forehead.
The animal’s ragged jaws went for Jake’s throat, but his arm shot out in time to absorb the blow. The mastiff sank his teeth into Jake’s arm and shook him as if he were a child instead of a man.
“Stop him!” Amelia’s shout startled Baby Howie and sent him into a high-pitched wail that jagged its way through her frazzled nerves.
The nurse rushed forward to take the baby from her arms.
Amelia looked desperately to Louisa. “He’s killing him!”
“Alistair!” Amelia’s brother-in-law dashed from the house, shouting nonsense as he raced down the stairs. “Zuructreten! Zuructreten!”
The beast released Jake and withdrew to Thomas’s side as his master reached the drive. Sitting on his haunches, Alistair offered another slobbering grin as if attacking a guest was all in jolly good fun.
“Jake!” Amelia hurried to his side and dropped to her knees. She stroked his forehead, pushing aside the dampened hair from his eyes. “Dear heavens, are you injured?”
He stared up at her, unblinking, his complexi
on chalky.
“Please, say something.”
Jake sucked in a deep breath then met her gaze. “Amelia? That dog speaks German.”
A sobbing laugh burst from her chest, and she bent forward, almost kissing him before remembering they weren’t alone. She jerked her hand away from his face and rocked back on her heels. “Yes, well. It appears you haven’t suffered any lasting damage, Mr. Hillary.”
Jake pushed up to his elbow and examined his torn sleeve. “Gads, this is a new jacket.”
Amelia’s hands landed on her hips. “You are mauled by a great beast and your concern is for your jacket. Whatever is the matter with you?”
Thomas stepped forward and helped her to her feet. Louisa and the children had already been rushed inside. “My apologies, Hillary. We keep Alistair penned when we expect visitors.”
“Yes, well, I should have sent word.” Jake stood and dusted off his clothes, casting a distrustful glance at the dog panting at Thomas’s feet. “If I might have a moment of Lady Audley’s time. The first Lady Audley, that is. Well, not the first obviously—”
He sighed and rubbed his temple. “Perhaps I hit my head for I cannot express exactly what I mean. Just one moment of privacy, please, my lord, and then we shall be on our way back to London.”
We? Surely Jake didn’t include her in his travel party without consulting her first.
Thomas smiled, affable as always. “You may have an audience with Amelia in the yellow drawing room, but I’m afraid we cannot allow you to leave Crossing Meadows so soon. You must remain as our guest, at least until the morrow.”
“That is kind of you, Audley, but my betrothed and I don’t wish to overtax your hospitality.”
Amelia flinched.
“Betrothed?” Thomas’s brows shot to his hairline.
A flash of heat licked up her neck and into her cheeks, and she averted her gaze. She couldn’t say the reason she had kept her betrothal a secret from Thomas and Louisa. They had been encouraging her in that arena for some time, claiming she was too young to remain a widow. Yet, she was concerned as to how they might interpret her choice to move forward with her life.
When she didn’t answer Thomas, he stepped forward and clapped Jake on the back. “Well done, Hillary. I believe you may have come out the victor in the arrangement.”
Jake accepted the marquess’s congratulations with a good-natured laugh. “We are of like mind. I shall strive to deserve her good favor.”
His twinkling hazel eyes and smile cooled her temper by a degree.
Amelia’s touch was light on Jake’s forearm. “Come inside so I may examine your arm.”
“You may use the yellow drawing room if you like,” Thomas said. “Clive will provide whatever you require to tend Mr. Hillary.” He snapped his fingers at the dog. “Alistair, kommen.”
The animal bounded behind him as he sauntered around the side of the house.
Jake offered his uninjured arm and smiled when Amelia slanted her head to meet his gaze. “You didn’t sic the dog on me, did you, Mia?”
“Of course I didn’t.”
They climbed the stairs arm in arm and entered the double-hung front doors.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he said, “not after the way I behaved.”
She pressed her lips together as if in contemplation, but more so to hold back a grin. “Excellent argument, Mr. Hillary. Shall I have Thomas bring the beast back to finish you off?”
Jake chuckled. “Please don’t, sweetheart. At least until I have been given a chance to speak with you.”
“Very well. This way to the drawing room.” Amelia called out instructions to the butler as they passed him in the foyer. “Have a bath drawn for Mr. Hillary.”
Jake trailed behind Amelia as they crossed the foyer. She glanced over her shoulder and caught him in the act of sniffing himself. He dropped his arm quickly when he realized she was watching. A splash of red colored his cheeks. “You ordered a bath for me?”
She bit back a smile. “To protect against infection. If that beast has broken your skin, you must cleanse it thoroughly with lye soap.”
“Lye!”
“I’ll hear no arguments, Mr. Hillary.”
Dutifully, he ceased his complaints and followed her through a set of double doors. “Good Lord! What happened in here?”
Amelia squinted as she took in the lemon yellow paint covering the drawing room walls. The color spilled over onto the furnishings and carpet. “Be grateful Thomas didn’t suggest the green drawing room. The color reminds me of something unpleasant the baby sometimes produces.”
She laughed when Jake’s lip curled in disgust. Leading him to the settee, she urged him to sit then sat next to him. “I cannot examine your arm unless you remove your jacket.”
“Oh, yes, I suppose.” He shrugged out of his garment, revealing a rip in his shirt sleeve as well.
Amelia rolled his sleeve up to his elbow. She twisted his arm gently to view the puncture marks then rubbed away a dirt smudge with her thumb. Touching him sent tingles from her fingertips to her toes.
“Alistair didn’t draw blood, thank goodness. Still, you should clean the area well to ensure you do not catch some horrible illness from him.”
Jake shuddered. “Is drooling contagious?”
“I hope not.” Amelia grinned, removed her gloves, and placed them on a low table in front of the settee. “No one in polite society would tolerate such deplorable manners.”
“Amelia, please come home.” He captured her hand and held the back of it against his lips. Her pulse skipped like a leaf caught in a gust of wind. “Lady Kennell and I have reached an understanding. I give my word that I shall never argue with her again.”
She pulled her hand free; a slight frown wrinkled her brow. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. I am not blind to Bibi’s ability to incite others to anger. She tries my patience on occasion, too. All I ask is that you try to see the good in her, because it’s there.”
“I know it is.” He reached for her hand again, gently pressing the pad of his thumb into her palm and restarting the fast tempo of her heart and breath. “I shall make every attempt to live peacefully with her. The lady is loyal to you, Amelia. I can find no fault with this quality.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lady Kennell realizes how much I love you, and she urged me to come for you.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “Now I know you never spoke with her. Bibi would never say anything of the sort.”
His fingers threaded with hers. His gaze was intense and unfaltering. “Because she doesn’t believe men are capable of love?”
A soft gasp sounded at the back of her throat.
Jake leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His gentleness made her tremble with suppressed emotion. “Please, Amelia, allow me another chance to prove my devotion. Upon my honor, I will not disappoint you again.”
For a fleeting moment when his mouth skimmed over hers, seeking her permission, she wondered if she was surrendering too easily. But forgiveness was too sweet a dish to pass up, and faith in the one she loved, divine.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Take me home.”
“I wish to take you here.” Jake’s arms shot around her waist and lifted her onto his lap. A small cry passed her lips.
“What if someone discovers us?”
“No one will.” His rough voice made her insides quiver. Would he truly make love to her here?
He adjusted her so she straddled his thighs then plundered her mouth. His hands slid up her waist and molded to her breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles over her nipples. A strong pull between her legs made her gasp.
Any concerns about possible discovery leached away as his lips played with hers. Amelia resettled herself, making contact with his already hard shaft. She drew back. “Were you thinking of tumbling me before I even forgave you?”
An unrepentant smile spread across his face. “I’m so
rry, sweetheart, but I can think of little else most of the time.”
His grin was infectious, the crinkling around his eyes endearing, and the obvious pleasure he took in her warmed her heart. “I suppose I can make certain allowances this once.”
She eased her arms around his neck and leaned forward to kiss him, but a scratch at the door sent her scrambling for the far end of the settee.
She fluffed her skirts and folded her hands. “Come in.”
Jake groaned, snagged a pillow, and plopped it on his lap. The butler entered and offered a slight bow to him. “Sir, your bath awaits you.”
“Splendid,” Jake grumbled under his breath.
***
Jake sat up tall in the tub when the dressing room door clicked behind him.
“Damnation! What is it now?” This was the third interruption since he’d climbed into the warm water. The boy assigned to serve him during his stay at Crossing Meadows had officially become a nuisance. Jake twisted at the waist, ready to take the young servant to task, but his angry words died away. “Amelia.”
She tightened the belt of her wrapper and moved toward the tub, revealing a flash of inner thigh as the garment parted. “How is the water? Is it warm enough?”
It would be boiling once he had her in the tub with him. His shaft gave an excited jerk. “The water is adequate. What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you are using the lye soap.”
His eyes darted to the untouched bar resting in a dish on the wash stand.
“I knew it,” she said with a smile and withdrew a pale, yellow bar from her pocket. “I decided my edict was too harsh, so I brought a bar of chamomile.”
He sank down in the water and rested his head against the rim. “Oh. Is that all?”
Amelia knelt beside the tub and picked up the cloth draped over the side. “I also decided if I allow the use of chamomile, your wound will need extra attention.” She dipped the soap in the water, lathered the cloth, and touched it to his arm.
His heart launched into his throat as she circled the cloth over his minor cut, something he could have done for himself. “My arm isn’t my only part that would like extra attention.”
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