Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half

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by Grace, Samantha


  “Hasn’t been bad?” Amelia jabbed a finger against his chest. “Perhaps you should carry our child and spend most of your time in intimate conversation with the chamber pot.”

  He laughed. “Now that you mention it, I’m growing jealous of the time you spend with that fellow. Every time I get close, you run off to meet him.”

  Her worry lines eased but didn’t disappear. “Your life would be easier if you forgot about me.”

  “Never.” They had been separated long enough for him to know nothing was easier without her.

  He rested his head against hers. “We belong together. If hardships stand in our way, we must hold tight to each other. We’ll survive this. I promise.”

  She snuggled against him, her warmth penetrating his thin shirt. “If you promise, then I believe you.”

  “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for being an arse?”

  “If you will forgive me for hiding my condition. I wanted to tell you, but…”

  He caressed her soft cheek with his fingertips. “I’ve already forgotten it, sweetheart.”

  “Then so have I.”

  Now that their quarrel had ended, curiosity was killing him. All he’d been able to think on these past few days was his child growing inside her. “How far along are you?”

  “Twelve weeks, I believe.”

  He grinned. Sometime around the masked ball.

  “Stop looking proud of yourself.” Her smile softened the reprimand. Taking his hand, she placed it over her stomach. “I won’t be able to hide my condition much longer.”

  He circled her belly with his palm. “Is he moving yet?”

  “Not where you can feel. And what makes you think we’re having a boy?”

  “Do you sense you carry a girl?”

  Her Mediterranean blue eyes filled with affection. “No, I’ve been thinking of the babe as a he myself.”

  “Splendid.” Jake hugged her. In truth, he held no preference. Son or daughter, he would love the babe, every bit as much as he loved his child’s mother.

  His blood heated with her soft body pressed against his. It had been too long since he’d made love to her. His lips brushed hers then applied more pressure. How many oceans would he cross for a lifetime of her sweet kisses? He could willingly let her go as easily as he could give up breathing.

  His hand slid up her neck and pulled her closer, his mouth eager for her taste. She softened in his arms and returned his kiss, but when his fingers grazed the underside of her breast, she scrambled from his lap.

  “Wait!” She bumped against the table in her haste, but instead of dashing for the folding screen, she stared, her hand resting lightly over her chest. “We can’t.”

  “Pardon?”

  “This.” She swirled her hand as if performing a sleight-of-hand trick. “We can’t do this.”

  “A magic act?”

  “No!” she said and scowled. “We can’t tempt fate.”

  Gads. This didn’t sound promising. “Please explain, because you lost me at ‘we can’t.’”

  She sighed and leaned against the table. “Don’t you ever wonder if this would have come about if we had waited until we were married? I mean Audley. Not our child. If we had done everything in the proper order, maybe Audley wouldn’t have resurfaced.”

  “Huh…” Was it just him, or was Amelia speaking nonsense?

  “I want everything settled first. I want Audley to agree to the divorce. I want it all behind us, so everything is right.”

  He rubbed his forehead. “Are you saying if we had never become intimate, Audley would still be dead?”

  “Yes. No, not really. But”—she scooted around the table—“how can we ever know?”

  Applying reason and logic might be the first step.

  “I don’t wish to take any chances,” she said. “It may sound like superstitious foolishness, but we can’t be too careful. Our child’s future is more important than anything, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Well, yes—”

  “Thank goodness.” She collapsed onto the vacant chair. “I feared you might think me mad. Then we agree. Until everything has been put back to rights, we must remain celibate.”

  Celibate? Hellfire and damnation! When had he agreed to such an arrangement? “Isn’t it a bit late at this point?”

  She crossed her arms and her jaw jutted forward. “We must do what is best for our future now. You know I’m right.”

  Jake sighed and shoved his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t good, not good at all. She obviously had a case of female hysteria. Thankfully, he retained sense enough to keep his observations to himself. Pressing the issue seemed unwise at the moment, but tomorrow was another day.

  He offered a smile so as not to give himself away. “So, you play hazard?”

  Thirty-one

  Bibi cuddled against Jasper and sighed with contentment as the Berlin carriage carried them back to Kennell House. She still missed Amelia, but she had done the right thing in encouraging her to travel with Mr. Hillary.

  Amelia had an opportunity for love and marriage, something Bibi would never have. And never realized she had desired until recently. Instead, she had settled into a pleasing coexistence with her lover, trying not to think overmuch on the inevitable ending of their affair.

  If anyone had asked her at the start of the season if she could imagine embracing a domesticated life, she would have laughed. Yet here she was living as one half of a couple deep into their dotage.

  She and Jasper ventured out every evening, attending balls, dinner parties, or the theatre, but they also returned home early. Of course, their entertainments behind closed doors couldn’t remotely resemble those pursued in old age.

  Jasper drew her closer against his side. “Did you enjoy yourself this evening, B?”

  “Oddly, yes.”

  “Oddly?”

  “I hadn’t expected Forest and his wife to be so amiable, although Amelia had warned me that I might like Lady Lana if I gave her a chance.”

  His body shook with a throaty chuckle. “As long as you were duly warned.”

  “Indeed. I believe Lady Lana and I could become friendly given time.”

  “Excellent.”

  Jasper sounded pleased by her admission. In fact, he had been rather enthusiastic about her forming new associations over these past few weeks. He often encouraged her to extend invitations to his cousins, Lady Eleanor and Lady Lydia, practically penning the notes on her behalf. His eagerness in arranging her social life gave her pause. One might think he wished to have her out from underfoot.

  The carriage eased through the iron gates of her town house and rumbled to a stop.

  “Ah, we return,” Jasper said, his voice taking on a strained quality.

  When he didn’t make a move to exit the carriage when the door opened, Bibi glanced up. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

  “Do you not wish to come inside?” she asked.

  “Yes, I do wish it, but…”

  Bibi’s eyes rounded a fraction before she could school her features. “But what, sir?”

  “We cannot go to the bedchamber,” he mumbled. “I have a matter I must address with you, and I cannot be distracted from my purpose.”

  Her heart paused for one horrible moment. This was it, the end of their lovely association. He had reached the conclusion it was time to take a wife. The season would end soon, and he needed to make an offer before the available young women returned to the country. Perhaps playing house with her had eased him into the idea of matrimony more quickly than she had hoped.

  Her eyes narrowed. Was this the reason he had encouraged her to go on so many outings? Had he been courting his future bride while Bibi had traipsed all over Bond Street spending blunt like a fool?

  “Speak your mind here, my lord,” she said with a definite chill to her voice. “Then you may be on your way.”

  Jasper shifted his weight and climbed from the carriage. “I am afraid there is not e
nough privacy in the carriage, nor enough room.”

  Bibi hesitated to take his hand, but did so out of necessity. Had she not donned the most treacherously high heels in order to appear taller in his presence, she would have shunned his offer of assistance. Once safely on the ground, Jasper didn’t release her hand, but pulled her close to his side and escorted her through the double doors.

  He had been attentive, loving, and solicitous the entire evening, which irritated her to no end. If he had exhibited any aloofness, she would have known to steel her heart against this moment. As it was, she felt as vulnerable as a newborn kitten.

  “Shall we retire to the violet drawing room, my dear?”

  “The location makes no difference,” she snapped.

  Jasper gazed at her in surprise. “Indeed? I wish I had realized as much earlier. Perhaps on Forest’s veranda would have been preferable.”

  Now he really had her back up. “In a place where we might be overheard? Are you mad?”

  He released her hand and stepped back to rub his chin thoughtfully. “No, I suppose you’re correct. This matter is best discussed without potential eavesdroppers or untimely interruptions.”

  With a spine fashioned of iron, Bibi walked to a lavender wing armchair and perched on the edge. “Do get on with it, Norwick.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his gaze shot to the crystal decanter sitting on the sideboard. “Might I partake of a brandy first?”

  She crossed her arms and glowered. “Do you require spirits for courage?”

  “Well, this is new to me, Bianca.”

  That admission didn’t buoy her morale in the least. A man who had likely always been on the receiving end of the disappointing news a relationship had run its course endeavored to end his association with her.

  “It is novel to me as well,” she said.

  A bewildered look crossed his features. “Really? How peculiar,” he mumbled to himself before looking up.

  “For heaven’s sake, Jasper. Spit it out.”

  “Have I angered you in some way?”

  Bibi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was undignified. She had always known their association would end, and she had imagined it as a friendly parting. She had promised herself she would respond with something witty, such as… Maybe something like… Oh, for the love of God, how was one supposed to be clever at a time such as this?

  “Pay me no mind, Jasper. I am simply caught unawares, but I am not angry.”

  He eyed her warily.

  “Please, help yourself to a brandy,” she said, waving a hand toward the decanter.

  He didn’t move. He stared in puzzlement, his face darkening to that pleasant red color it always did when he was emotional. Straightening his waistcoat, he stepped forward.

  “No, you are correct. I don’t require libations for what I am about to do. I have never been as confident in my decision as I am at this moment.”

  A choking lump formed in her throat. Her surliness had solidified his decision. He would toss her aside with no regrets.

  “Bianca, it should come as no secret that I must—”

  “Take a wife,” she said on a wail. “Yes, I know.”

  “Mercy! Will you allow me to finish?” Jasper jerked on his waistcoat and stretched his neck. “This is my moment. Please, wait for your lines.”

  She procured a handkerchief from her reticule and blotted her tears. “Sorry.”

  “Yes, well. Allow me to try again.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a most uncouth behavior that made him all that dearer to her. “As you have stated, I must take a wife. I have considered it a distasteful duty until recently but now find my attitude toward matrimony has come more in line with what is expected of me as the seventh Earl of Norwick. Do you understand?”

  Bibi nodded miserably.

  “Brilliant. Then we understand one another.” He beamed. “I must warn you, I not only require children, I find myself unexpectedly desiring them.”

  Warn me? What a bizarre choice of words. Of course, she knew he would require issue, but how would that affect her in any way? It wasn’t as if she would be taking tea in his nursery, being forced to look into their chubby faces and large, obsidian eyes. Imagining tiny versions of Jasper toddling about choked her up again.

  “Do you agree to children?” he asked.

  Bibi’s gaze snapped to his face. “Whatever are you saying, Norwick? Why would you seek my approval? I have no say in the matter. This is a question best posed to your future wife.”

  “My future wife?” He blinked. “Oh, bloody hell. I mucked it up, didn’t I?”

  Before Bibi could respond, he knelt before her and pulled his hand from his pocket. The glint from what appeared to be a million diamonds encircling a ring band with an obscenely larger diamond in the middle stole her breath.

  “What is this?”

  “A token of my affection. It worked well enough for Hillary,” he said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into his words.

  Bibi placed her hand over his. “It is beautiful, darling. You did well.”

  “My dearest, Bianca. I would be greatly honored and pleased if you would consent to be my wife.”

  “Me?”

  Jasper frowned. “Who else would I wish to marry? We have been inseparable for weeks.”

  “But I thought you considered me your lover, not a candidate for a wife.”

  “Can you not be both?”

  Bibi chuckled as tears slid down her cheeks. “Yes, Jasper Hainsworth. I can indeed be both a lover and wife to you.”

  “Then we have reached an understanding?”

  She captured his face between her palms and kissed him soundly. “We have reached an understanding.”

  His smile left her legs weak. He slipped the ring on her finger, stood, and whisked her up into his arms. “By George, I can lift you without throwing out my back.”

  She swatted his shoulder. “Jasper!”

  “Not now, my dear. I must concentrate if I am to navigate the stairs without killing us both.”

  He hurried from the drawing room and carried her to the bedchamber without the slightest threat of injury to either of them. He laid her on the bed and climbed up beside her. His eyes glittered in the candlelight as he gazed at her, caressing his thumb over her bottom lip.

  “There is one more thing I neglected to tell you, Bianca.”

  “What might that be?” Her voice sounded airy.

  “I love you.”

  Thank heavens Bibi had stolen to the balcony that night at the masked ball. Otherwise, she might have missed the greatest gift of all: a bumbling yet endearing man who challenged her false notions that love was simply a myth.

  “I love you, too, Jasper.”

  Thirty-two

  Amelia gaped at the surroundings marking the entrance to the Mississippi River. She supposed some might describe it as desolate with the banks of almost black mud, but there was an odd beauty to the area. The saturated earth shimmered in the sunlight, and the smooth texture from water having washed over it reminded her of a looking glass.

  The place where no life should exist teemed with groups of pelicans. They huddled together as if gathered for a crude ball, issuing deep grunts that sounded like a cross between a swine’s snort and an old man’s snoring.

  Jake leaned on the railing beside her and pointed at another bird wading along the shore. “It’s a white ibis. See the black wingtips?”

  The long-legged bird dipped his hooked beak into the shallow waters.

  “How are you familiar with the bird species?”

  Jake twisted his upper body toward her. His dazzling smile turned her insides to mush.

  “I thought you knew I had sailed as part of Daniel’s crew a few times,” he said. “Grandfather considered it part of our education. Benjamin had his stint as well, but Daniel was the only one to fall in love with the sea.”

  “What an unorthodox education.”

  “Agreed, but there was some logic in
volved. To protect one’s investments.”

  She tipped her head to the side and glanced up at him. “Why must one know about sailing to protect one’s investments?”

  “There are many factors involved with a ship making her destination. To run a successful shipping business, it helps to be familiar with those factors. You want to hire the most qualified shipmaster, the one with the best chance of arriving with the shipment. Knowing what it takes to accomplish this task will guide you in choosing the best man.”

  “Oh.”

  She had never considered what a son might require as he grew into a man. A son needed a father to guide him, and Jake was the best man for the task. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she turned away before he noticed.

  What if Jake was wrong about the laws governing New Orleans? Even he had admitted they would require counsel from a solicitor familiar with the divorce laws. What if the laws didn’t apply to her? She was English, after all, and so was her husband. If that were the case, Audley would have to return to England, or she would never be free to marry again. And what if her husband refused, or demanded she stay with him?

  Jake’s hand grazed her elbow. “You’re worrying again.”

  She tried to smile, but it felt tight and false. “I never expected to see my husband again. What will I say when I see him?”

  Jake placed his hand over hers where it rested on the railing. His fingers fit snugly in the spaces between hers. “When I woke this morning, my first thought was of Mr. Canaan.” He frowned slightly and shook his head. “Not true, he was second. You were first. You always are.”

  She laid her head against his shoulder for an instant, unable to resist touching him.

  “If Mr. Canaan is not Audley, will you consider the matter settled?”

  “Of course.” A lump formed in her throat. She wanted to believe they had made a mistake more than anything, but she couldn’t. Her instincts told her Mr. Canaan was a fraud.

  “Are you tired, sweetheart? Do you want to go below deck?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve missed civilization.”

  He chuckled. “I’m uncertain I would deem this area civilized, but I understand your meaning. Here comes the pilot.”

 

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