Amelia's Intrigue (Regency Idyll Book 1)

by Judith A. Lansdowne

  “No, I shall have all the support I need, I thank you,” he winked, putting an arm around his wife’s waist and the countess’s as well. “Now shove off, both of you!”

  Amelia would not take the arm Talbot offered her, but kept step with him in dreadful silence. She did not look in his direction, nor mention that the rain had stopped once again, nor even clear her throat. Once she stumbled, and he caught her in his arms before she could fall, but she shook herself free of him and proceeded again on her own. “Geord says you hate me,” Tony muttered when they had traversed a third of the path. “He says you will hate me forever and ever.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. He thought you would probably not marry me now.”

  “What?”

  “Well, he did not know if hating me would keep you from marrying me because he does not truly know what hate is, you see. But he did point out that you hit me with a broom.”

  “How very observant of him,” replied Amelia, a bit of a smile lighting her eyes and twitching at her very kissable lips.

  “Yes, so I thought. And he also informed me that you had stomped on my foot, which made him think, you know, that his plan was totally ruined.”

  “His plan, Mr. Talbot?” asked Amelia with the lift on an eyebrow.

  “Indeed, Miss Mapleton. It appears that for months the scoundrel has been planning for you and I to fall in love with one another. I swear I knew nothing of it,” he protested when she turned to scowl at him. “It appears that your father did, however. And your brothers. And Northampton. And Bristol. Geord got them all involved in it somehow.”

  “The wretched little villain!” exclaimed Amelia, he eyes flashing with amusement. “How dare he?”

  “Oh, Geord is very reprehensible, you know. It is one of his finer qualities.”

  “Almost as reprehensible as you, Mr. Talbot.”

  “Almost. I swear, Amelia,” he said, grabbing both her hands and bringing her to a halt, “I did not know what to do. I meant to call out this man Justice. I thought he had murdered my father. But then, Justice turned out to be your father.”

  “So you decided not to call him out, but merely to beat him to death?”

  “No! Oh, devil take it, Amelia! I meant to kill him to avenge my father, but then, when I saw who it was, I could not. If he had agreed to meet me, I would have deloped.”

  “Why, Mr. Talbot, if you thought my father a murderer?”

  “That is just it,” sighed Tony. “I could think Justice a murderer, but not your father. He gave me his word, you know, that he had not done it, and had I not been so totally frustrated, I would have accepted it then and there.”

  “You were overwrought,” Amelia whispered with a little nod. “I understand how that could be. And angry and confused as well. And in such a rage that you even defied your mother and took the chance of losing Geordan.”

  “No, I would not have lost Geordan. You are out there, my love. Mama would not have sent me away, nor transferred Geord’s guardianship to Tracy. She was merely exceedingly angry and determined to bring me to reason. You, however,” looking down into her emerald eyes, “were determined to beat me to eternity with that broom. Even your father was sure of it.”

  “Yes, well, he is my papa, and I do love him, and I could not stand by and see you hitting him when he would not hit you back. And he would not, you know. If he had, he would have drawn your cork and blasted out both your daylights and sent you to the canvas for a very long slumber. He has excellent science, my father, and remarkable bottom.”

  “Miss Mapleton,” Tony said, clearing his throat and then breaking into laughter, “you are the most extraordinary woman.”

  “Because I know something about boxing, Mr. Talbot?”

  “No, because you are romantical and sensical and hoydenish and ladylike and improper and extremely proper all at one and the same time, and I have never loved anyone more in all my life. Amelia,” he said, his hands trembling as they had in the cave, “Amy. Will you, could you, marry me, do you think?”

  “Mr. Talbot,” declared Amelia, “this is very sudden.”

  “Oh no, it is not! I asked your father’s permission to address you hours ago, and he informed me that Geordan had already received permission for me to do so months before that!”

  “Why, they little scoundrels, both of them!”

  “Yes, and so I said. Will you, will you at least think about it, Amelia? I know I am infamous at times, but so is your father, and you love him.”

  “I have not the least need, Mr. Talbot, to think about it,” announced Amelia, tugging her hands from his grasp. “You are arrogant, egotistical and dull-witted. I already do love you, you pea-brain, and have for three weeks at the very least.”

  Mr. Talbot raised his eyes to the sky. “Thank you,” he said with great sincerity, and then he caught Miss Mapleton in his arms and gave her the longest, deepest, most romantic kiss he could devise. “You will not object to having Geord underfoot quite often, will you?” he asked when finally their lips parted. “You do like him, do you not?”

  “I think,” replied Miss Mapleton, a dimple appearing in her cheek, “that he is a conniving, deceptively charming brat, and I love him dearly. And I also think,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes, that we had best get down to Westerley before he helps Miss Lydia to do more than sneak unnoticed into her chambers.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  A LITTLE more than a week after the party’s return to London found the earl and Mr. Talbot, in company with Lord Mapleton, the Duke of Richmond and Mr. Richard Trevithick, huddled around the kitchen table in Bear’s lodgings in Puddin’ Lane. Mapleton, true to his word, had brought with him pots of different coloured paints to adorn the small carousel which Mr. Trevithick was studying with intense interest. Jesse, Davey and Abby clung about their father, waiting impatiently to begin the toy’s adornment. “Ain’t he never gonna get done lookin’ at it?” Davey muttered, his fingers itching to get into the paint.

  “Patience, sir,” mumbled Mr. Trevithick in reply. “I am almost finished.” In a few more moments, he handed the toy into three pairs of eager hands and sat back in his chair to sip his tea.

  “Well?” the duke asked, his eyes fastened on Trevithick’s thoughtful face.

  “It’s far from a railroad engine, your grace,” Mr. Trevithick replied.

  “We know that, Richard, but can it be reproduced easily?”

  Trevithick found the earl’s eyes and grinned. “You’ve done a fine job, my lord. It’s a grand toy and likely to last forever. Made it from scraps an’ pieces, didn’t you?”

  Geordan nodded.

  “So?” the duke prodded Trevithick impatiently, making Lord Mapleton laugh.

  “Tracy, settle down, Trevithick will bestow his opinion upon us in good time. Geordie, where are you going?”

  “To help p-paint,” the earl answered, joining the youngsters on the floor. “I know how to paint.”

  “You know a great deal more than that,” mused Trevithick in a quiet voice. “Yes,” he said at last, with a concise nod. “It is not only possible, but an exceptionally good idea. Now, where will we find investors?”

  “Investors?” asked Bear with a rather bemused look. “What er ye speaking about?”

  “Well, he thinks that we might be capable of making a great many more carousels, Bear, and selling them to people for their children,” Tony explained. “I rather think, myself, that Rutlidge money would be available to finance the project. Considering the source of the toy in the first place, I would be unconscionable not to put some of the earl’s resources behind it.”

  “Do not think for a moment that you will be the only investor, Tony,” the duke grinned. “I’ve had my money ready for over a week now.”

  “Likewise,” Mapleton added. “With Trevithick’s help we ought to be able to get things started up without too much difficulty. And a good thing, too, since I’ve been forced to retire from my normal occupation.” His mirth-filled glan
ce caught Tony, and Tony laughed.

  “Yer gonna start a bizness?” Coffee asked.

  “Exactly, with your help, and Bear’s, of course,” replied Mapleton. “You will help, won’t you?”

  “Of cours they will,” Talbot urged, one hand on Bear’s shoulder and the other on Coffee’s. “And Molly and Donovan have promised to help as well. Molly is thinking highly of Oliver Donovan, you know, Bear, and it’s likely they’ll be making a match of it before long. I rather think she’d like to know that you and those scamps are adequately provided for before she marries, and I know she is always worrying about Coffee.”

  “There will be jobs in it for a good number of people,” the duke added, studying the two men. “And we’ll pay decent wages for everyone doing a competent job of it.”

  “You and Coffee will be in charge of seeing everything is done well and hiring workers,” Mapleton informed them.

  Bear and Coffee, both staring in somewhat of a daze, caught each other’s eyes and burst into shouts of joy.

  “It’s a deal, then,” laughed Mapleton, extending his hand. Hands were shaken all around the table, and plans for the project began eagerly and in earnest.

  “I THOUGHT we would n-never get done,” the earl sighed, pressed into his mother’s carriage between Tony and Lord Mapleton. “The animals were very h-hard to p-paint right.”

  “Really?” teased Talbot. “Were they harder to paint than yourself, Geord?”

  The Duke of Richmond and Mr. Trevithick, sharing the seat across from them, chuckled. “I especially admire the shade of blue on your neckcloth, cousin,” Tracy grinned.

  “The green and yellow on your chin are not bad either, my lord,” said Trevithick, “but it is my considered opinion that the red on your lapels is prettiest of all.”

  “I do believe, Geordan,” mused Lord Mapleton, studying him gravely, “that you have got more paint on you than on the carousel.”

  “Oh, n-no,” the earl answered seriously, “we g-got an awful l-lot of paint on the c-carousel. Are we almost home yet, Tony?”

  “Yes, scamp, almost. Why are you in such a rush?”

  “B-Because it is almost five, and, and we have g-got to meet Amy.”

  “We do?”

  “In the P-Park, Tony. We are going to r-ride in Rotten Row t-together. Do you not remember?”

  “Well, yes, I do seem to recall something on that order having been agreed to, but she will wait upon us, Geord. Tyler will not let you out the door, you know, looking like you do. He will make you scrub off the paint and change your clothes at the very least. His reputation as a valet depends upon it.”

  “B-But we need to be there, Tony,” the earl said worriedly. “There is a sur-surprise.”

  Lord Mapleton shook his head. “I should be very careful, Tony, if I were you,” he said in an amused voice. “I have been witness to some of Amelia’s surprises.”

  “B-But it is not Amelia’s surprise,” the earl interjected excitedly, “it is m-mine. It is a surprise for Amy, too.”

  By the time the harried, but laughing, Tyler had taken a hand in refurbishing the earl and had restored him to a semblance of sartorial dignity adequate for a ride down Rotten Row, Mr. Trevithick had been carried off to his own home in the countess’s carriage, and Lord Mapleton, the Duke of Richmond and the countess herself had decided on accompanying the earl and Tony to the Park. “For now that I know there is to be a surprise,” smiled the countess, “I should be loath to miss it.”

  “Indeed,” grinned Tony, his eyes laughing at Tracy and Max, “Geordan’s surprises are legendary.”

  The earl, at last set free from Tyler’s ministrations, ran down the stairs, his new spurs jingling. “Whoa, slow down,” Talbot grinned. “You’ll fall and break your neck, Geord, and then we shan’t get to the Park at all. Amelia is to meet us at the West Gate, is she not?”

  Geordan nodded, looking from one to the other of them. “Are you all c-coming?” he asked, astounded. “Even you, Mama?”

  “Yes,” said the countess, appropriating his arm. “Martin has the horses waiting for us in the forecourt. Walk, Geordan, do not run. I cannot keep up with you, else.”

  The duke and Max had their own hacks, which they had ridden over earlier in the day. Talbot’s little Welsh mare also stood ready in the courtyard, together with the countess’s Letticia, who had been brought up from Westerley. “But, Martin, where is Mouse?” Talbot asked. “You do not mean to tell me that Geord has expressed a desire to ride the bay?”

  “Well now, Mouse, he ain’t feelin’ just the thing, Master Tony,” Westerley’s head groom murmured with a significant glance at the earl, who was mounting the bay that had been brought round for him. “Ain’t serious. Jist a freaky bit o’ sputterin’.”

  “He will be f-fine, Tony,” the earl said. “He is j-just not well this m-minute.”

  Talbot’s eyebrows rose in surprise, together with his mother’s—the earl’s nonchalance over Mouse’s ailment extremely surprising to both of them. But each interpreting correctly Martin’s little shake of the head, held their peace and the party rode off toward Hyde Park. Amelia was waiting, as planned, at the West Gate, in the company of her mother.

  “Well, this is definitely a surprise for me,” Max announced, leaning from his saddle to give Lady Mapleton’s knee a pat. “We have not ridden down Rotten Row together for ages, Kate.”

  “I beg you to behave yourselves, then,” the countess said with a smile of reminiscence, “for I remember the last time Daniel and I rode the Row in your company, and the two of you did not behave with propriety.”

  “No,” mused Lady Mapleton, thinking back, “but it was all Max’s fault we did not. And it was fun, Cecily.”

  Miss Mapleton and Mr. Talbot, riding side by side, took the lead, followed by the countess and the Duke of Richmond, and then by Lord and Lady Mapleton. The earl, easily as impatient as the back hack upon which he was mounted, rode all around them, looking first one way and then the other.

  “Well, where is this surprise of yours, Geord?” Tony asked, laughing when the earl came up to them or the fifth time. “Did you know he has arranged a surprise for us, Amelia?”

  “No. What kind of surprise, Geordie?”

  “There,” the earl said in a hushed whisper, pointing toward the green. In a moment other eyes besides those of the earl’s party also beheld the vision approaching the Row, and a great number of hacks carrying stunned gentlemen came to a silent halt.

  “Oh, my goodness,” murmured a voice from very near the rail, which Amelia discerned immediately that of Pamela Clinton, who sat her bay beside Viscount Eliot.

  “What a glorious sight!” exclaimed the countess, despite herself. “Geordie, is that Martin behind her?”

  “Y-Yes,” the earl answered, bringing the hack up beside his mama’s. “You do not mind, d-do you, Mama? I could n-not be with her and still b-bring Tony and Amelia to s-see.”

  The countess, with a quivering smile, reached out and grabbed her elder son’s hand in her own, giving it a quick squeeze and then holding on to it tightly. Before them, Miss Lydia Clinton, in royal blue velvet dress, her coat of military cut, her cap a sever extension of the military flavour with the majority of her golden curls tucked neatly up under it, sat serenely atop a prancing, playful Mouse sporting his grand new tack, his black coat shining even brighter than Beau Brummell’s Hessians.

  Her little chin uplifted, her perfect bow lips smiling easily, and her tiny gloved hands lightly commanding Mouse’s reins, Miss Lydia came toward them with all the aplomb of a born equestrienne. A number of gentlemen’s hearts throbbed much harder than usual, and a good many ladies, including the vision’s sister, glared in envy at the magnificent picture the great, dancing stallion and the delicate young lady presented. “I say, Geord,” the Duke of Richmond whispered from the opposite side of the countess, “is that your young lady, then?”

  The earl nodded, his gaze fastened upon Miss Lydia. In a moment more, Lydia spotted
Geordan as well and urged Mouse into a canter. As she came within a yard of them, she pulled the stallion to a halt. He reared, flailing heavy hooves skyward, settled to all fours, shook himself, and at the instigation of the toe of Lydia’s very tiny boot, he thrust one foreleg ahead of the other and bowed as well as the most practiced of courtiers.

  Amelia, whose opinion of the Toast of Wybridge had been recently undergoing a change, could contain herself no longer and burst into applause. Tony, his chest swelling with pride at the miracle he knew to be due to his brother’s singularly determined efforts, joined her a mere second later. And then quite suddenly there came applause and cheers from everywhere, and Tony noticed that even the carriages along the pathways had pulled up to watch Lydia’s triumph.

  Far behind her on the green, Martin sat his hack, a satisfied smile on his face, watching as the earl dismounted and vaulted the rail to stroll up beside her. Geordan and Lydia were both laughing and together turned to wave enthusiastically at him. He waved back. “An’ God send the rest o’us the good grace to learn a thing or to from ye.” With that he left Miss Lydia to the earl’s care and turned his hack toward Rutlidge House.

  THE END

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