“This isn’t about your father,” he said incredulously. “You used me.”
She wanted to argue, but it was true technically. She had used him; she hadn’t quite seen it as such at the time.
“So, you use girls all the time.”
“Then you go around acting like you did it as part of some noble quest,” he said hissing through his teeth.
“You have made your opinion clear. Can we end our association now?”
He didn’t say anything for a while, but he was looking down on her. “I’m not sure I’ve had enough yet.”
“Oh for god’s sake,” she said sharply and tried to pull away. He held her for an instance before letting her go. She headed straight for the door; he’d well and truly succeeded in driving her away and she knew that had been his intention. She had staked her claim here and he had ripped it out. She wasn’t strictly sorry, this was not the kind of company she wanted to keep any way, but it angered her all the same—on principle.
Amelia grabbed her cloak as fast as she could and ran out the door. She heard steps behind her and for a second thought he had followed her out, but it was Celeste.
“Time to go,” she said and waved their carriage over. “That was extraordinary. I don’t know what is wrong with that man.”
Chapter 19
Richard clenched his fists. A part of him was eminently pleased that he had chased her away, but there was another than wanted her there, wanted to continue. None of his actions made any sense to him, but he was compelled to act this way.
“The little bird flew the coup,” Lord Hariston said. “Quite a wilful one. It seems she doesn’t quite conform with your strictures.”
He didn’t respond. He knew that their little tiff had been observed, and he also knew that it would likely be noted—not that this particular group of people were overly concerned with how lesser women were treated. He had not crossed any boundaries, but the nature of their relationship may be of more interest in the future.
He knew Lord Hariston was interested in her. He had even planned on encouraging the link at one point, but when it came down to it, he could never have gone through with it. The reason he’d asked her to dance was mainly to stake his claim in Lord Hariston’s eyes; although he wasn’t entirely sure why that was important to him. Maybe a tiny part of him was inoculating her to the present company; they were after all not the kind of men that would get her where she wanted to go.
He had blatantly told her that he didn’t believe in her quest considering her behavior and the company she kept, but he had lied. He did believe that she was looking for a husband and he also believed that she threw him over because he could never offer that to her. Maybe for the reason that if she wasn’t so damned virtuous, his bed would be warm at night. He would then be looking forward to going home, instead of staying out with this salacious crowd because the emptiness of his house was wearing on him—something he’d ever admit.
The mission to find a wife had ground to a halt; he just couldn’t face the company of the unmarried women of the ton. Each one he met annoyed him to the point of contempt. He wasn’t sure why, but had decided that perhaps he needed to give himself some leave to get past the mood that had taken him of late. He would resume again when he was of a better mind. Perhaps it was all the changes in his life that needed a bit of time to bed down properly.
He joined Lord Hariston on the card table. It was going to be a long evening, and somewhat diminished now that the enemy had been vanquished. Perhaps the reason he had such trouble going through the process of finding a wife was that he’d been fighting enemies for twenty years, and had outright dismissed any activity that did not meet those ends.
Amelia felt better as they were further away. It wasn’t a long carriage ride, but it gave her a chance to calm down.
“He is the most peculiar man—such aggression,” Celeste said. “I can’t understand why he acts so. He is quite unstable.”
“He is not used to not having his way.”
“It almost sounds like you defend him.”
“Heavens no,” Amelia reacted.
“Such rage to lay out on innocent bystanders. I know he was far from fond of your father, but to show such venom to you…”
Amelia didn’t know what to say. Their relationship was a little more complex than him merely venting on a bystander—not that it excused his behavior, which was atrocious under any circumstances, but it would be an injustice to let such an impression stay.
“There may have been some complications in our acquaintance that has angered him,” Amelia finally said tentatively. She felt that Celeste may deserve to know more as she was now the brunt of some of his misdirected anger. “Do you recall how you mentioned that I find someone that I didn’t love, to … explore intimacy with…” she drifted off.
She felt Celeste tense beside her. “And you chose such a man?” she said with astonishment.
“I felt there was little chance of falling in love with him,” Amelia defended herself. It had seemed like such an obvious choice at the time. “He suggested I continue as his mistress, but I said no.”
“My dear girl, you don’t choose such a man to dally with,” Celeste said with exasperation. “Have you no sense of self-preservation?”
“I didn’t foresee the consequences,” Amelia said feeling uncertain and ashamed. Celeste groaned and rubbed her temples.
“For future purposes, if you chose to dally, don’t do it with a lone damaged man—it is like baiting a wounded animal. They are much more trouble than they are worth unless you are hell-bent on keeping them.” Amelia hadn’t seen it from that perspective; she’d been too distracted by his arrogance to consider that there were wounds underneath the steely harsh exterior. In hindsight, it made sense considering his history. His lone existence was obvious, but she’d understood it as his preference and dismissed it as such.
“He did not take the rejection well, no man does, but Lord Eldridge has a long, convoluted history with the concept,” Celeste said reassuringly. “Never mind, we will deal with it.”
Amelia was happy to have the support of someone more experienced, because she felt like she was out of her depth with this situation, particularly if he was going to purposefully travel in her circles like he threatened to. There was the added complication that she was so intensely aware of him whenever he was there, and it wasn’t just his harshness or dislike, the attraction that she had started still sat there between them and burned.
“Maybe if you wish to practice you should try Stephen. He is attractive, attentive, but his attention quickly flitters off somewhere else,” Celeste said.
Amelia had no plans on practicing anymore, and she certainly couldn’t imagine doing so with Stephen. He was extremely attractive, but he just wasn’t appealing to her. In truth, she couldn’t imagine any hands on her other than the ones that had already been—along with the deep sensations they brought. That was only because she hadn’t found the man who was to be her husband yet, she told herself. She was sure she would shiver at the touch of a passionate man such as Henry. She couldn’t quite imagine what that would be like, but she was sure it would be just as exciting if it were to happen.
Amelia stayed at home the next few days. She declined to join Celeste at the theatre; even though she was reassured that Lord Eldridge had never been seen at the theatre. Amelia wasn’t scared of running into him; it would naturally be as unpleasant as he could make it, but she just wanted some time to herself. There was a certain rawness to it all that she wanted to dissipate and she felt distance was the way to do it.
Eventually she agreed to join Celeste at a picnic which was being held by an artist that was gaining some success of late. She had a suspicion that Henry would be there and it had been a long time since she’d seen him. There was also no chance that Lord Eldridge and any of his ilk would be anywhere near it, which made the whole thing much more relaxing.
It was a warm spring day when the picnic came around. They’d
travelled some ways out of London along the Thames, and they were to picnic at a park near Hampton Court Palace. It was a beautiful park with weeping willows flowing in the wind.
Henry was there and he looked very nice, well not nicely dressed, but he looked nice. His brown eyes were clear and happy. She decided that was what she liked about him, he was so secure in who he was and his purpose if life. He was much thinner than Lord Eldridge, with his rough clothes ill-fitting in comparison. They were not made for him, but he looked well regardless.
They had spread a rug out on the grass and they were sitting in the sunshine.
“This was a brilliant idea,” Celeste said and accepted a flagon of ale. “Just what the soul needs after a long winter.”
“The soul needs a bit of nourishment all the time,” said a man that Amelia didn’t know, but obviously a painter. “And such stunning company.”
“Oh James, you could talk the legs off a donkey. I have been warned about you,” Celeste chided playfully.
They talked about new commissions at the moment, then some new artist that had come out of Austria that seemed to be making a splash. There was on-going discourse without the polite banter that was a requirement in other circles. They discussed themes openly and there was ribbing that went along with male friendship.
Once lunch had been eaten, they spoke for a while longer, enjoying the sunshine, but people started to drift away into smaller groups. Some sketched and some were just lying in the grass talking. Amelia decided to go for a walk along the Thames. She wasn’t planning on going far, just wanted to stretch her legs after the long carriage ride.
The water gently lapped the shore gently and the sun sparkled off the surface of the undulating dark water. This park land reminded her of her former home in the country. It was lovely to get away from the oppressive heat in the city to the much cooler country side. She had nowhere to go this year; she was going to have to stay in the city. Lord Eldridge may well be enjoying the nature and gardens in Wiltshire, but then she wasn’t entirely sure he would leave the city at all. He didn’t seem to be the kind of man who travelled to the country for relaxing summer days.
She decided to return the way she’d come before she walked too far. When she got close to where the picnic was, she spotted Henry standing below one of the willow trees smoking a cheroot. She hesitated for a moment, but decided to approach him—getting to know him was after all one of her goals, she would be defeating herself if she let her nerves keep her from that. It was just scary talking to him directly without the confines of the group.
“Hello,” she said and ducked underneath the flowing leaves of the willow tree. He smiled at her but didn’t say anything. “What has you hiding underneath a tree?”
“Just watching the light through the leaves,” he said. Amelia smiled, only an artist would say something like that.
“It is beautiful here.”
“Yes. Just like you,” he said and Amelia blushed—she struggled with compliments that sounded genuine. Of late, she was more used to the opposite. Lord Eldridge criticized everything she did, and truthfully it was much easier to take that then a compliment.
“Congratulations on your new commission.”
“Thank you. I will have to spend the summer out in Scarborough, but there are worse fates in life.” Amelia hadn’t considered that it would take him away for a while, but travel must be a requirement for artists.
“I’ve never been there.”
“Me neither.”
He reached up and tucked one of her curls behind her ear. The traces of his fingertips around her ear made her shiver a bit.
“You are like a summer’s breeze,” he said and was looking straight at her. The moment went quiet before he reached forward and kissed her. Amelia sighed into the kiss as their lips made contact. Then he pulled away and it was over.
“We should get back,” he said. Amelia nodded. She followed him out of the protection of the leaves. She was disappointed, the kiss had been unremarkable. She didn’t know why, it was a nice kiss. His lips were lovely, but it just didn’t… She had kissed a man under a tree before and it had been fire and tempest, even though she hadn’t intended it to be. Henry’s kiss was like a little flutter in comparison. Maybe she had just been nervous. She had never been nervous with Lord Eldridge, maybe that was why.
The picnic wound down shortly after and Amelia joined in saying goodbye to everyone before stepping into Celeste’s carriage.
“You know when you kiss a man and you feel it in your gut?” Amelia asked.
“Yes,” Celeste said with a smile.
“And if that feeling isn’t there?”
“Then it isn’t there.”
“Will it come?”
Celeste looked at her with an expression of sympathy. “It is not something that can be forced.”
“You can learn to love someone.”
“And the kisses will be nice, but I don’t think that spark comes if it’s not there. I’m sorry.”
Amelia looked out the window—this was not what she wanted to hear. She wanted to have fire and tempest with Henry—passion, but it wasn’t there. How could the world be so cruel? Amelia sighed out her disappointment. She could feel Celeste watching her, and she sought an excuse to change the topic.
“Why do you like the company of these artists?” Amelia asked. Their company almost seemed to make her sad, so Amelia couldn’t quite figure out why Celeste associated with them. She smiled guardedly, but it didn’t hide the sadness underneath.
“I loved a man once, an artist. There were sparks and there was passion, we walked around each other like a bull and matador, but we never quite got it together. We were too busy fighting.”
“What happened?”
“Then he died,” Celeste said with a shrug. “And that was that.”
“That is awful.” Amelia wondered if it had been as extreme as her interaction with Lord Eldridge; it did sound similar. She was so adamant to get away from him; she hadn’t even considered the feelings that would be left behind. She imagined how she would feel if he died, she didn’t like thinking about it.
“It happens. Sometimes I think if things had been different had we gotten over our pig-headedness, but I’m not sure it could have gone any other way. You never quite get over it though, love; it lingers long after we need or want it. It doesn’t ever quite go away, even if you want it to.”
Well, Amelia thought, it wasn’t love that was between her and Lord Eldridge. There were no fluffy feelings that bubbled through her like champagne bubbles. The feelings he caused in her were harsh and compelling, twisting her insides whenever she thought of him.
“You wish your feelings for this man would cease?”
“I wish my feelings for Lord Issing would cease, but they never quite have. We used to be involved, but such affairs do end.”
“And you wish it hadn’t?”
“No, it very much had its day and I would never want to go back, but I know he’s not happy and that disturbs me. I think the fact that we never stop caring is our downfall; it keeps us stuck in the past and unable to move forward.”
Amelia stared out the window. This news did not spell well for her because she may on some twisted level have started caring for the most odious man she’d ever met, and had assumed that just getting away from him would lessen any feelings she had unfortunately developed. The thought that they would never cease was beyond disturbing. What if he was the only man she would ever have feelings for? Surely that would be a woeful state. It just could not be—she refuse to accept it.
Amelia stayed at home for a few days, while Celeste continued to go out in the evenings. Amelia was still very confused about the kiss with Henry. She liked Henry, how could it be that his kissed left her so unmoved? She had assumed that such things were automatic with people she liked. Then again, there was fire with Lord Eldridge and she didn’t like him by any means.
However, now that she knew such wrenching desire, she wasn’t
entirely sure she could accept a life devoid of it. She just had to accept that Henry wasn’t the one for her. Celeste had been right all along, she need experience to find the right man. She thought of all her married former acquaintances who had married men with large estates and yearly incomes, men they barely knew and on many levels were quite unenthused about. Those women would never know and that was sad.
Amelia decided that she wanted true love and that included the feelings that made her knees buckle. She just needed to find a man who achieved that—other than the one that actually did. There had to be other men who did. She would just have to go on kissing until she found one; so she made a mental list—he needed to be unmarried, willing to marry someone with a less than pristine reputation and he needed to make her weak at the knees.
Lord Eldridge had two of those qualities, but he failed spectacularly on one. It wasn’t an unreasonable list, and she decided that she didn’t care what he did, as long as he was decent and kind. Two more entries on her list, she realised, both of which made Lord Eldridge’s stock lower further.
She was going to go out again, to every party, event, theatre performance, and she was going to kiss every man who qualified on the characteristics on her list—maybe not Anton because that would be cruel, and Stephen because he lacked consistency. Another quality for her list.
Chapter 20
Amelia found her target a few days later—a second son of a cousin of Lord Sedgewick’s, a man who was just out of the seminary and waiting for a parish. He was not a handsome man, but he was not revolting either—just an average man. He had long legs and a slim build, and most importantly he was kind—even to women who had been struck by misfortune. He was shy, but Amelia could tell that he enjoyed her company. She hinted that they should dance, but he declined. He was struck by her disappointment and explained that he had never learnt.
“Then I shall teach you,” she said. “It would be my pleasure. It will be a requirement in your profession as you will be invited to every ball on the county.” The idea seemed to strike him with horror and his reaction made her laugh. “Don’t worry, I will teach you enough so you will not draw attention to yourself.”
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