“Miss Wheeler. How nice of you to come. Have you been introduced to Lord Radwill? Lord Radwill, may I present Miss Wheeler? Miss Wheeler, Lord Radwill.”
She made her curtsy to Lord Radwill as he bowed slightly and smiled at her.
“Oh, but I believe we have met before, Miss Wheeler. It was at Lady Bishop’s picnic two Seasons ago.”
“Of course. How could I forget?” Even though she very nearly had. But he remembered her. A promising start.
“You were rather parched after a tennis game with your friend, Miss Godwyn, and I fetched you both some lemonade.”
“Oh, yes, I remember. But I haven’t seen you in quite some time. Have you been away?”
“I was spending some time with my mother’s family in Switzerland. I’ve only recently returned to England.”
“And at the tail end of the Season. How unfortunate for us all.”
Radwill leaned in and gave her a small, conspiratorial smile. “I confess, it was intentional.”
She widened her eyes and plastered on her best flirtatious smile. “You meant to deprive London of your presence intentionally?”
“No, I only meant I much prefer the country to the hubbub of London during the Season. I won’t be sorry to be at home at our country estate soon. The quiet of the countryside suits me much better.”
So he was a stodgy homebody. A girl couldn’t have everything. He was a viscount and he wasn’t old enough to be her grandfather. She’d work with what she had.
“Ah, now I understand you perfectly. And where is your estate?”
“Lincolnshire. Are you at all familiar with that part of the country, Miss Wheeler?”
“Not at all, although I’m told it’s exceedingly lovely there.”
Radwill’s expression brightened, as if someone had finally hit on a subject close to his heart, but Lady Longville interrupted before he could expound on Lincolnshire’s charms.
“If you’ll excuse me, Radwill, I see Mr. Partridge has come in and I promised to introduce you to him.”
“Of course. Miss Wheeler, if you’ll excuse us?”
“By all means.”
“I hope you enjoy the concert this evening.”
“I’m sure I will,” Amelia said without conviction.
Well, that was about as dull as she’d expected it to be. If she applied herself, could she uncover something in Radwill to make him interesting? Watching him from across the room, it seemed doubtful.
“You look as if you’re plotting an invasion.”
Natty’s voice was much lower and richer than it had been in childhood, but every nerve in her body recognized it at once. A glance at him over her shoulder confirmed he was as perfectly turned out and as breathtakingly handsome as the last time she’d seen him. After making such a close study of Lord Radwill’s unexceptional appearance, looking at Natty was like plunging into icy cold water—a massive shock to the system. Almost nothing about him could be described as unexceptional, not from his height, several inches taller than the tallest man in the room, to his build, broad-shouldered, but lean and muscular from head to toe, not a spare inch of wasted flesh. His face was a little “too” in every respect. Slightly too narrow, slightly too long. His nose slightly too large, his mouth slightly too wide. And his eyes...too observant, and entirely too lovely. Their bright blue-green color seemed lurid compared to the rest of him, so hard and masculine. But somehow all of his many pronounced features seemed to come together to form something more than the parts. There was some magic in the way the sharp angle of his cheek met his jaw. Magic in the way his gold eyebrows met that narrow nose. And definitely magic in the eyes looking down at her.
He smiled, lopsided and sarcastic, and his eyes sparkled as if with some sort of shared secret. For a moment, her pulse leaped. She wanted to smile back, to join in whatever secret they were keeping from the world. But then she remembered his impersonal farewell the last time she’d seen him and her smile died before he could see it.
“Not quite an invasion. More of an infiltration,” she said crisply.
“Has Lord Radwill offended you in some way? Is that why you’re looking at him as if you mean to dismember him?”
Amelia glanced up at him and away to Lord Radwill again. Looking at Natty was too unsettling. She couldn’t do it for long without losing track of her thoughts. “Actually, I’m debating his merits as a potential spouse.”
She didn’t look back to see how he took her words. He was silent for a moment before he asked, all traces of humor gone from his voice, “He’s proposed to you?”
“Oh, no. We’ve only met once. He fetched me some lemonade two years ago, or so he says.”
Natty chuckled. “Are you going to propose to him, then?”
Amelia considered it for a moment. That would certainly set people talking, and it wasn’t an unappealing idea, if the man was anyone other than Radwill. “If he’s broke enough, I won’t have to. Otherwise, what’s the point of all my money?”
“How very mercenary of you, Amelia.”
“Everyone here is mercenary, Natty. It’s how this whole business works.”
He was silent again. “Yes, I suppose it is more marketplace than social gathering. Aren’t they all?”
“You sound rather world-weary. How did you become so familiar with ballrooms?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you implying I don’t belong?”
“Oh, no. You look as if you were to the manor born, with your fine suit and manners. How did it happen? This is a long way from the docks at Portsmouth.”
He shrugged and glanced away. “I was fortunate enough to meet Captain Sullivan.”
“Who is that?”
“A captain I worked under early on. He was an oddity in that he owned his own ship. Two, in fact. A self-made man in every way.”
“He sounds very enterprising. How did he lead you here?”
“I was very enterprising, too, and Captain Sullivan appreciated that about me. He took me under his wing, and taught me everything he knew about ships. When the time came, he sponsored me to take the exams for second mate, then first mate, then shipmaster. Under his guidance, I rose through the ranks quickly and was soon captain of his second ship.”
“It’s quite a step from captain to where you are now.”
Another enigmatic shrug. “Captain Sullivan never married and had no children. When I was nineteen, he fell ill. Terminally, as it turned out. He chose to make me his heir. He trusted I’d make something of what he’d worked so hard to amass.”
“And have you?”
He gave her a smug grin. “Captain Sullivan willed me two ships when I was nineteen. Now I own fifteen. I’d say so.”
“Oh.”
“What? No chippy comeback?”
“Give me a minute. Something will come to me.”
“No doubt.”
“But what about the rest?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, that explains the money, but it doesn’t explain you.” She waved a hand at him, encompassing his fine clothes and aristocratic bearing.
“You can buy anything, if you have a mind to.”
“How does one buy manners?”
“A few years ago, I met the youngest son of a marquess. He had, ah...a bit of a problem with opium, and had been cast off by the family. He was looking for passage to Bombay and didn’t have a penny to his name. We arranged a trade. I took him where he wanted to go and he taught me how to carry myself like a gentleman. It worked out well for both of us.”
“That’s rather how I did it, except my father paid Lady Grantham a load of money to turn me into a lady. Sad waste, if you ask me.”
Nate smiled down at her, a smile that made something in her chest give a sudden lurch. “You outshine an
y young lady here, Amelia.”
She snorted in laughter, mostly to cover up her discomfort. “Go on, now. Save your flattery for the proper young misses. You know me too well.”
“Perhaps. Doesn’t make it less true.”
“Your marquess’s son taught you how to wield a compliment well.”
He chuckled, the sound running across her nerves like the purr of a cat. All the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “Perhaps I’m naturally charming.”
“Hmm, somehow that doesn’t sit with my memories of you.”
“I grew into it.”
“You grew into a great many things, I think.”
“You would no doubt be amazed.”
“Don’t be fresh.” She reached out to pinch his arm, forgetting she’d meant to be cross with him. How was it she hadn’t seen Natty in ten years and he was still somehow the easiest person in the room to talk to?
“Amelia!” her father barked from behind her. She turned face to him and the gentleman he’d brought with him. “Papa, there you are. I lost track of you.” On purpose, but that didn’t signify.
He motioned to the newcomer. “Amelia, this is Mr. Cheadle. He wished to be introduced to you.”
Wonderful. Yet another man come to sniff around her fortune. She’d heard of him before, from Victoria and Grace, when he’d made a futile attempt to woo Victoria—or her money—the year before. With his excessively pomaded hair and sparse, waxed moustache, he was every bit as unappealing as they’d said. It didn’t matter if his father was a viscount. Close-set eyes flanked a thin, prominent nose over his pinched lips and weak chin. He was smiling at her, but with his large, horsey teeth, it looked like more of a grimace. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Cheadle.”
Mr. Cheadle grasped her fingers and bent to brush his lips over her knuckles. Never was she so grateful for her gloves, keeping those thin, damp lips from her bare skin. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Wheeler. Might I join you to watch Madame Fortunato’s performance this evening?”
The last thing she wanted to do was to sit next to this man and discuss opera all night, but her father was shooting her a look promising swift retribution if she was anything less than welcoming. She plastered on a smile and inclined her head. “Of course. That would be delightful. May I introduce you to my friend? Mr. Smythe, this is Mr. Cheadle. Mr. Cheadle, Mr. Smythe.”
Both men inclined their heads at each other, making no move to shake hands. Mr. Cheadle’s eyes skated down Natty appraisingly, and he seemed to be barely restraining a sneer. Natty only smiled lazily at him. He seemed to receive as many unspoken slights as she did.
“Miss Wheeler,” Cheadle said. “I believe the music is starting soon. Shall we find our seats?”
Cheadle smiled at her, slowly and too familiar for a man she’d just met. When he extended his arm to her, she had no choice but to accept it. Her father ushered them forward with a wide smile, as if he was already imagining them walking down the aisle together. No matter what her father might be plotting in his imagination, she fully intended to use one of her vetoes to eliminate Cheadle, if his suit became serious.
Over Cheadle’s shoulder, her eyes sought Natty one more time. He was there, smiling that same secret-keeping smile. Again, it caused a minor revolt in her chest. Then he raised two fingers to his forehead in a mocking salute before he turned away, leaving her to the dismal company of Mr. Cheadle for the rest of the night.
Chapter Four
Amelia crossed the room, flanked by her father and that pretentious ass, Cheadle. It was probably best she was removed from Nate’s company, since he’d been enjoying hers far too much. When he’d entered the room and spotted her eyeing Lord Radwill with such naked speculation, he’d found himself at her side and teasing her before he’d even made up his mind to do it. Even more troubling, he knew for a fact Lady Julia Harrow was attending tonight and it hadn’t even crossed his mind to seek her out once he’d seen Amelia. A terrible lapse on his part, one he wouldn’t allow again.
Weaving through the crowd, his height made it easy for him to spot Lady Julia. Happily, she was already talking to Mrs. Lamott, a widow he’d met a few times previously. Mrs. Lamott was no longer young, but she was still reasonably attractive and had made no secret that she’d welcome Nate’s less polite attentions. He was glad he’d never taken her up on the offer because it would have been damned awkward to have her introduce him to Lady Julia if he had.
“Oh, Mr. Smythe!” she said, lighting up as he approached her. “How delightful to see you again. And looking so...healthy.” Her eyes drank him in from his head to his feet.
“The delight is all mine,” he replied, choosing to ignore the rest. “And may I ask who your lovely companion is?”
Mrs. Lamott’s eyes flickered to Julia and even though they’d been pleasantly conversing only a moment ago, now the widow eyed the younger woman with contempt. “Ah, yes. May I introduce Lady Julia Harrow, daughter of the Earl of Hyde?”
He’d done his research and knew Julia Harrow to be twenty-four, rather old to still be unmarried, especially as the daughter of an earl. He was a bit surprised to find her attractive, albeit in an unconventional way. Her jaw was perhaps a bit strong, but it balanced her high cheekbones. Her most remarkable feature, however, was her eyes, dark blue and slightly slanted, half shadowed under her curling, blond fringe. Her expression hinted at intelligence, and the sparkle in her eyes at suppressed wit.
“It’s a delight to meet you, Lady Julia.” Giving her his best smile and bowing, he took her offered hand in his, caressing her fingertips very subtly with his, brushing his lips over her knuckles. He held on to her hand for a beat too long and looked back up at her face, smiling again, as if they shared some intimacy. This move had worked on many women in the past, and indeed, Julia’s eyes widened. The corner of her mouth twitched, but before it could all resolve into an expression he could read, it vanished again behind her mask of cool composure, leaving him uncertain as to how he’d been received.
Perhaps she was a cerebral sort of girl, more impressed by conversation than the promise of physical intimacies.
“I’ve been so eager to meet you, Mr. Smythe. I understand you are a ship owner like my father.” Her manner was forthright, no flirtatious simpering. But she’d known who he was in advance of this meeting, which was promising.
“My commercial endeavors pale in comparison to your father’s, but yes, I am in shipping.”
She smiled slightly. Those intelligent eyes examined him. “How delightful.”
For the life of him, he couldn’t read her response, and generally he had no problem determining the wishes of the fairer sex. Despite her admission of wishing to meet him, he didn’t sense any sort of feminine interest. There wasn’t a hint of flirtation about her. Perhaps this was why she remained unmarried, a social awkwardness that made other men ill at ease. So, she was terrible at flirting. She wasn’t unpleasant or offensive. Nate wasn’t so easily dissuaded.
Mrs. Lamott cleared her throat. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said icily. “I see Lady Bartleby coming in and I should say hello.”
“Not at all, Mrs. Lamott. I’ll see to Lady Julia.” He gave Julia a conspiratorial wink. Quite bold, considering they were strangers. She smiled blandly back at him and said her goodbyes to Mrs. Lamott.
“Well, Lady Julia...” Now that he’d achieved his goal of getting her alone, he was at a loss. All his usual flirtations felt as if they might bounce off her like a wall. “Are you looking forward to tonight’s performance?”
“Oh yes, I am fond of music,” she replied.
“Yes...me, too,” Nate said lamely. Julia smiled on, serene and impenetrable.
He glanced over her shoulder, scrambling for a new topic. Amelia was already seated between her father and Mr. Cheadle, who were having a conversation across her. Her eyes
wandered about the room in abject boredom. Oh, that was a look he remembered well. It was the one always preceding some shocking behavior or dangerous stunt. Did this adult Amelia still respond to boredom by getting herself into trouble?
Her gaze fell on him and, for a moment, a hot wave of awareness surged through his body. Seeing Amelia all grown-up was still startling. How he reacted to the woman she’d become was even more so. Who would have guessed the scrawny girl with tangled curls, muddy hems and skinned knees would grow into the woman across the room? The jet-black curls and flashing dark eyes were still the same, but they’d all come together in a way he’d have never predicted.
Just as he was getting lost examining the pale curves of her shoulders and the graceful arch of her neck, her eyes snapped to Julia and narrowed. She looked back at him, rolling her eyes before turning away. The little baggage. She was the same Amelia after all.
He turned back to Lady Julia. No distractions, not when he’d finally launched the campaign he’d been planning for months. The prize was before him; he needed only to figure out how to win it. “Lady Julia, may I escort you to your seat?”
She gave him another unreadable smile and took his offered arm. “That would be delightful. I think we have a great deal to talk about, Mr. Smythe.”
Nate couldn’t imagine what she meant, but he wasn’t about to disagree with her. No matter what Julia Harrow wanted to discuss, he’d do it happily.
Really? An earl’s daughter and Natty?
Amelia watched Natty escorting Lady Julia Harrow to her seat, stewing on an emotion that stung in an unfamiliar way.
She’d known him first. She’d known him longer and probably better than anyone on earth. But all he’d done was tease her like some bratty younger sister. For Lady Julia, a stranger, he behaved like a perfect gentleman. No, worse than a perfect gentleman. A perfect gentleman with a marked interest in a young lady.
Madame Fortunato took her place and began to sing, and it was all Amelia could do to stay put in her seat. Especially not with the spectacle of Natty and Lady Julia constantly drawing her attention across the room. He had an arm draped casually across the back of her chair and would lean in now and then to whisper something to her, his hand almost touching her bare shoulder. His hands were so large. Would those fingertips feel smooth or rough? What did his voice sound like now when he whispered?
A Common Scandal Page 5