A Common Scandal

by Amanda Weaver

  “What do you mean?”

  “How do you feel about what you did with Mr. Batchelder?”

  Evelyn grimaced and looked at her feet. “I’m not sure. It was all right in the moment, but now...”

  “Perhaps it’s because you did it for the wrong reasons. Tony Batchelder isn’t a man who can be snared by those sorts of lures. And—if I may be frank—he doesn’t strike me as particularly honorable. Allowing him liberties in the hope he will feel obligated to you in some way is an unwise strategy. For him or any man.”

  Evelyn heaved a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I don’t know why I listened to Kitty.”

  “Because you like him, and you wanted him to like you. It’s very understandable.”

  “It is?”

  “Of course. Many girls have no doubt done far more foolish things for love.” She’d done many a foolish thing with Nate, and couldn’t bring herself to regret a single one. The difference was all in the intention. Nate was nothing like Tony. He’d never laid a hand on her intending to take advantage of her, no matter what she’d accused him of in the garden the night before. And when she’d offered herself to him, it was never with a thought of the future, or creating an obligation. She’d only wanted him, in whatever way she could have him, for as long as the moment could last.

  “You don’t think I’ve done wrong? That my behavior was beyond the pale?”

  Amelia stopped walking and turned Evelyn to face her, gripping her shoulders. “It’s not wrong if you truly care for him and he cares for you. I can’t believe that. You were perhaps a bit deceived in believing in his regard for you. But you cared for him. That’s not your fault.”

  Evelyn gave her a tremulous smile. “Thank you, Miss Wheeler.”

  “Amelia. We’ve done with all that, right?”

  “Right. So, what should I do about Mr. Batchelder?”

  “Oh, I’m afraid I’m the last person to give advice of that sort.”

  “I don’t know. You seem to be managing quite well with Lord Radwill.”

  Amelia looked at the ground, turning away and continuing toward the house. Evelyn fell into step beside her. “All we’ve done is talk, but he’s a nice man.”

  “Hmm,” Evelyn hummed noncommittally.

  “And as to what’s to be done about Tony Batchelder, I would suggest only doing what you wish, not what he wishes and certainly not what Kitty says you should do. If Mr. Batchelder fancies you, let him show it, and without the bribe of your personal charms to bring it about. Don’t sell yourself cheaply, Evelyn.”

  Evelyn’s expression cleared. “You’re quite right. I’m the daughter of an earl. Who does he think he is, dallying with me like I’m some barmaid?”

  “He can only dally with you if you allow it.”

  “And I shan’t. Not again. Oh, but what if he tells? He was being awfully cavalier about it this morning, making a bawdy joke of it. If he puts it around I allowed those liberties, I’ll be ruined.”

  “Leave it to me. Tony Batchelder will hold his tongue.”

  Evelyn looked almost painfully relieved. “Thank you. And Amelia? Perhaps you should take your own advice. Only do what will make you happy, not other people.”

  She smiled wryly at Evelyn, her most unexpected new friend. “In my case, I’m afraid nothing is quite that easy.”

  “Perhaps it’s not as difficult as it seems to you. Now, we’re going to have dancing tonight and you must promise to get Mr. Smythe to dance. I suspect he’s wildly good at dancing. Is he?”

  Amelia blinked in confusion. “Dancing? We knew each other as children. I can assure you, we never danced.”

  “Then I suppose tonight you’ll see for yourself.”

  Yes, tonight she would see for herself, but not about the dancing. What she’d said to Evelyn was true. If you loved someone, it couldn’t be wrong, no matter what the rules were about such things. Something was resolving itself in her mind. Yes, she was set on a course, and so was Nate. But there was one more thing she wanted from him, something she wanted to experience with him, just once, before everything changed and it was too late.

  * * *

  Once they were back in the house, Evelyn excused herself to speak with the housekeeper about the refreshments. Amelia lingered before a mirror in the entry hall, fixing her hair where her hat had disordered it. As she’d planned, Tony Batchelder found her there alone when he entered a few minutes later.

  He gave her an absent nod as he began to move past her, but she called out to stop him. She slipped into her best Commanding Heiress voice, the one she’d perfected under Genevieve’s tutelage. She had a feeling she would need it to deal with him. “Mr. Batchelder. A word, please?”

  He walked back to her with his usual sly, seductive grace. “And what can I do for you, Amelia?”

  Good Lord, did he ever turn it off? “I don’t think you know me well enough to use my Christian name.”

  He smiled, a slow curling of his lips, nearly predatory. “Oh, I don’t know. After what you witnessed last night I’d say we were on a very intimate basis. Is that what this is about? Was your curiosity piqued and Radwill’s not up to the task? I’d be happy to assist.”

  Amelia made a face. He was disgusting. Evelyn, Kitty, herself... It didn’t signify which, as long as she was female and willing. And the willing part was likely negotiable where he was concerned.

  “I assure you I don’t harbor the slightest curiosity about your skills in that department. And I would kindly ask you to refrain from referring to what happened last night in any way, to anyone, ever.”

  His eyebrows raised slightly. “Quite the little stickler, aren’t we, Miss Wheeler? Did Evelyn put you up to this?”

  “Evelyn doesn’t know I’m speaking to you. I’m simply looking out for her.”

  “Evelyn can take care of herself. She knew what she was about when she walked out with me last night.”

  “And I’m sure she’d have never done so if she knew you’d flirt with anything in a skirt the next day.”

  “I never made her any promises.”

  “Of course you didn’t. Your sort never does, do they?”

  His eyes narrowed and he finally dropped his languid, seductive stance, squaring off before her. “A fine bit of judgment coming from the likes of you.”

  “Oh, do be careful, Mr. Batchelder. I’m not the sort of girl you want to anger.”

  “Then perhaps you’d best keep your nose out of my affairs.”

  “Believe me, I’ll be delighted to forget you entirely once I’m assured of your silence on this matter.”

  “And why should I promise you anything?”

  Amelia smiled and took a step toward him. In spite of the adversarial words they’d been hurling at each other, Tony’s eyes lit up with interest and dropped to her bosom. No doubt he thought she might be about to offer him her favors in return for his silence. What a fool. “Mr. Batchelder,” she began. “I already know what a degenerate you are, but I’m sure you don’t wish the rest of Society to discover it.”

  He smirked. “Seducing Evie hardly makes me a degenerate.”

  She leaned in closer and whispered, her words meant for him and him alone. “No, but seducing your pretty young stepmother does.”

  His eyes went wide and he blanched. “How do you know—”

  Amelia stepped back. “Never mind how I know.” She’d have to thank Genevieve for that tidbit of information she’d imparted when she’d warned Amelia away from Tony. “Just remember, if a word of what transpired between you and Evelyn passes your lips, everyone else will know it. Your father will know it.”

  “You wouldn’t,” he seethed.

  “Why is everyone forever underestimating what I will do? I’ll do it with pleasure if I have to, Mr. Batchelder. Will I have any need to do so?
”

  Tony clenched his jaw, glaring at her for another moment, and he shook his head. “No need. I’d never tarnish a lady’s reputation in such a way.”

  She let out a disbelieving snort of laughter. “You can save your pretty lies where I’m concerned. I’m glad we understand each other, Mr. Batchelder. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to lend Evelyn a hand arranging the refreshments. Good day.”

  “Good day, Miss Wheeler.”

  She sailed past him, leaving him looking furious and slightly nauseous.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amelia had saved her favorite new gown for tonight. It was cream taffeta, printed all over with pink roses. A frothy lace underskirt matched the deep lace ruffles at her shoulders. She loved the way she felt in it and resolved to enjoy the evening as much as she possibly could, despite the circumstances.

  The moment Amelia stepped foot in the Tewsmere ballroom, Cheadle was upon her, begging for the first dance. And with no other offers to forestall him, she was forced to grant it. She reluctantly placed her gloved fingers in his hand and let him lead her to the floor. The ballroom was not particularly large or luxurious but it was full of people ready to enjoy themselves. Everybody from the house party was in attendance, as well as a number of local families, and Lord Tewsbury had brought a string quartet in for the evening.

  Finding herself immediately paired with Mr. Cheadle for the quadrille threatened to ruin her evening entirely. Nate was in the grouping, too, and partnering Evelyn, which cheered her up a bit, but not enough to make up for Cheadle’s obsequious smiles and overly familiar hands. Julia was there, too, partnered with Radwill, along with Will Thistlethwaite and a girl from the neighboring estate.

  It was only one dance. She’d endure it and endeavor to avoid him for the rest of the evening. As he swung her into the steps with enthusiasm but very little grace, she thought it might be harder to manage than she thought.

  “It was thoughtful of Lord Tewsbury to arrange this little entertainment for his guests,” Cheadle said as he rubbed his thumb across the palm of her hand slowly.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “The guests seem delighted.”

  “They do.” Amelia kept her answers as short as possible.

  “You look exquisite this evening, Miss Wheeler.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That dress is quite flattering on you.”

  “It’s new.”

  “I see...” He stammered, finally at a loss. She had no intention of helping him out.

  The quadrille slogged along. They separated and she momentarily held Nate’s hands as they made their turn. He gave her a conspiratorial smile before sending her back across to Cheadle. Beastly man.

  “Will your father travel back on Saturday to escort you home?” Cheadle tried again.

  “I’m to travel home with Lord Hyde and Lady Julia.”

  “How delightful.”

  “Hmm.” Now she wasn’t even bothering to respond with words and still he persisted.

  “Are you still as unsettled as you were last night?”

  Her thoughts wheeled wildly. Had he seen her with Nate? Without meaning to, her eyes frantically sought Nate across the set, but he was turned away, talking to Evelyn. “Last night?” she whispered weakly.

  “When you left the garden so abruptly, I assumed you were unwell.”

  “Left.” He must have thought she went back inside when she ran away from him. “Oh yes. I had a little headache. Too much sun, I suppose.”

  “Are you recovered?”

  “Quite.”

  The quadrille drew to a welcome conclusion and Amelia made to turn away, but Cheadle tightened his grip on her hand. “Miss Wheeler, please allow me the waltz, as well.”

  “I’m afraid Miss Wheeler has promised me the waltz,” Nate said, plucking Amelia’s hand from Cheadle’s grasp and smoothly inserting himself between them. “For old time’s sake.”

  He smiled down at her and winked. Amelia smiled back. “Yes, of course. For old time’s sake.”

  “Naturally,” Cheadle snapped before making his way off the dance floor.

  Being in Nate’s arms was as different as it was possible for the experience to be and still be considered dancing. His hand fitted perfectly into the dip of her waist, the fingers of his other hand curling around hers, warm and familiar. When he pulled her in close, she only wanted to get closer, to nestle up against him and never move. When the quartet struck up the waltz and they began to move, she had an answer for Evelyn—Nate danced beautifully. It was hardly surprising, as athletic and agile as he was. Being swept around the room, secure in his arms, was almost like flying.

  “Your opium addict dancing instructor did quite a good job with you,” she observed.

  Nate laughed. “I can’t credit him with that much. I hired a proper dancing teacher a few years ago. It seemed a necessary skill in the social circles I’d ascended to.”

  “You’re quite good.”

  “I suppose it’s all in having the right partner.”

  Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and in other, less proper parts of her body.

  She cleared her throat. “It was very good of you to dance with Evelyn. She needed a bit of support today.”

  “Evelyn? That girl is fearless.”

  “Don’t let her fool you. She was distressed by Tony’s behavior last night. Then he ignored her from the moment he entered the room tonight. She’s mortified, poor thing. She’s probably more grateful to you than you realize.”

  “Amelia, don’t tell me you’ve developed a soft spot for Evelyn Sanbourne.”

  “What if I have? She’s not so bad when she’s away from Kitty’s influence. She needed someone to talk to and a bit of advice. I was glad I could help her.”

  “It was good of you to do it,” Nate said quietly.

  The waltz was nearly over, and it wouldn’t do to dance with Nate more than this once. This was likely the only chance she’d have her whole life to dance with him and it was almost past. She didn’t say anything more, focusing on the steps, on his hand holding hers, his palm pressed to the small of her back. The waltz would never be the same.

  “Another dance?” he murmured as the music ended.

  “We can’t. You know that.”

  She heard him sigh, felt his breath brush her temple, but she didn’t look at his face. “I know it.”

  “Go ask Julia. Everyone’s expecting it.”

  Nate was silent. He squeezed her fingers, clinging to her for a moment, before releasing her hand and turning away without another word. She stood at the side of the room, refusing to look for him, and in a moment, as she expected, Lord Radwill appeared at her side, asking for her hand in the next dance. She felt herself smiling, heard herself respond pleasantly, but she felt absolutely nothing as he led her to the floor.

  * * *

  Nate did seek out Julia for the next dance, but Evelyn informed him she had taken a breather in the parlor and he wasn’t at all sorry to hear it. He’d rather stand alone at the edge of the room and torment himself watching Amelia dance with Radwill than dance with the woman he intended to propose to tonight.

  Radwill was doing a passably decent job of steering Amelia about the dance floor, and Amelia was exhibiting all the superficial signs of interest in her partner, smiling and responding to his questions. But he knew those eyes and the fire had gone out in them. He could barely stand to look at her, the image of Amelia, but nothing of the vibrant woman inside. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to look away, either.

  “Just look at him. The bloody little bitch seems to have utterly ensnared Radwill.” Cheadle’s hissed whisper came from the other side of the column to Nate’s left. “It’s going to take some doing to turn her head from him. He’s the heir to an earl, and
already sitting on a pretty courtesy title.”

  Nate had already taken a step forward, hands fisted and ready to teach Cheadle a long overdue lesson in respecting a lady when Cheadle’s companion spoke. Morley.

  “Seems to me Radwill isn’t your biggest worry. He’s a bit smitten, but he’s not the one who makes her eyes light up. Your real problem, Cheadle, is Smythe.”

  Dread froze him in his tracks, unable to do anything more than listen to the rest of their whispered exchange.

  “Smythe? He’s a tradesman!”

  “I suspect Miss Wheeler don’t mind that so much. His business dealings aren’t where her interests lie, if you know what I mean.”

  Had they been found out? Had Morley seen them together?

  “What do you know?” Cheadle pressed. Nate strained to hear Morley’s answer.

  “Nothing, at present. But I got eyes and I seen the way they look at each other. You ask me, it’s only a matter of time. Move fast, Cheadle. She’s tired of waiting.”

  “Tell her she has to be patient! It’s a delicate negotiation and I’m bloody well doing my best.”

  “Tell her yourself,” Morley snapped. “Get it done or I’ll be telling everyone about it.”

  Footsteps retreated. Morley had left Cheadle alone. Nate exhaled slowly. Good Lord, they’d been wildly indiscreet if Morley, of all people, had noted their interactions. And what the bloody hell was Morley’s interest in any of this? Cheadle was pursuing Amelia for purely mercenary reasons, it was no great secret. But why was Morley so invested in his success? And who was this mysterious “she” they both referred to, who also seemed to have some interest in Cheadle’s pursuit of Amelia? It all hinted at something darker than Nate had originally suspected. Amelia had to take care. Cheadle seemed more than a little desperate, and desperate men did desperate things.

  But he was not the man to protect her. It was impossible. Perversely, he had to hope Radwill issued his proposal soon, for then she’d be out of Cheadle’s reach and under the protection of her fiancé. There was absolutely nothing Nate could do for her that wouldn’t make her situation worse.