The great house was still quiet and dark, with only a single footman on duty down in the entry hall two floors away. There was no noise and little light as she padded down the thickly carpeted hallway on bare feet.
Her room was on the same floor as Nate’s but in another hall, as dark and quiet as the rest of the house. She encountered no one as she made her way silently to her room. With her mind so full of love and loss, it was no wonder she didn’t hear anyone slipping up behind her until his hand had clamped over her mouth and he’d shoved her through the door into her bedchamber.
When she began to fight, he released her, and she stumbled, swinging around to face her attacker. It was Cheadle, leaning against her closed bedroom door, smirking at her in a way that chilled her to her toes. Despite the circumstances, her instincts told her he hadn’t come to accost her. He stayed where he was by the door, making no move toward her. He wanted something, but she didn’t think it was her body.
“A bit late to be wandering the halls, Miss Wheeler. Anything could happen to you.”
“I was going to find my maid and—”
“Come now, Amelia, let’s move past all the deceptions. I know you’ve just come from his bed.”
Her heart began to pound, and she felt sick with fear, but her voice remained steady as she raised her chin. “Whose bed do you mean?”
Cheadle sneered. “That dock rat you can’t seem to stay away from.”
“Mr. Cheadle, I don’t know what you mean. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
He abruptly pushed off the door and she took a step back, but he was too quick, his hand clamping down around her upper arm.
“Let me go and leave this instant or I’ll—”
He raised one thin eyebrow at her. “You’ll what? Scream? Bring the house running? So they can discover what you’ve been up to this evening? Because make no mistake, Miss Wheeler, I’ll tell them all. In lurid detail. I’ll tell them exactly how you were dressed when you went to his room, I’ll tell them how he let you in, I’ll tell them how many hours you spent there with him, and I’ll tell them the state you were in when you finally left him. And then what do you think will happen?”
Horror filled her, from her hair to her toes. She knew exactly what would happen. Ruination. She’d never be able to show her face in Society again. Which would be tolerable if only—
“Ah, I see you’re wondering if word of your shocking indiscretion might reach your parents. I can assure you, it will. Unless you do exactly as I say.”
She tugged the edges of her robe closed, feeling exposed and embarrassed in a way she never had with Nate, even when she’d been completely naked. “What do you want?”
He grinned and she felt sick with dread. “Get dressed, Miss Wheeler. We’re going on a little trip.”
Chapter Seventeen
In spite of the tangle of issues they had to face, Nate entered the breakfast room in high spirits, his body sated with carnal delights, his heart full of love for the woman he’d shared them with. He deflated somewhat on discovering Amelia hadn’t come down yet, but he nodded his greetings to the room and made his way to the sideboard, still consumed by her and everything that had happened. Kitty Ponsoy’s shrill voice cut through his thoughts.
“It’s the most shocking thing ever, although I confess, I’m not at all surprised Amelia would do such a scandalous thing.”
He spun around, a cold horror taking root in his gut. Had she been seen leaving his room? But that couldn’t be it. There hadn’t been a hint of judgment or condemnation from anyone when he’d come in.
Kitty was waving about a note, blathering to Tony Batchelder and her brother. Her mother, Lady Watting, was smiling smugly at her daughter’s side. Lord and Lady Tewsbury sat near the head of the table, heads together as they murmured in hushed, urgent tones. Lord Radwill stood across the room, his face somewhat stricken. Evelyn and Julia entered the room together, stopping when they sensed the tension in the air.
“What is it, Kitty?” Evelyn asked.
Kitty turned to them, her face alight with glee. “Amelia and Mr. Cheadle have run off together! She left this note in her room. Can you believe it? It’s utterly scandalous!”
Evelyn’s mouth fell open and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Nate stepped forward and snatched the note from Kitty’s hand. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Really!” she huffed. “There’s no need to be rude, Mr. Smythe.”
“How did you get this?”
“Her maid found it this morning and gave it to Lord and Lady Tewsbury, of course. It’s terribly rude of her to involve them in her scandal this way—”
Amelia’s note was short and to the point.
My dearest Fantine,
I have consented to marry Mr. Cheadle and don’t wish to wait another moment to make it so. We’ve left together to be married. I shall send word to my father shortly.
Sincerely,
Amelia
“What the bloody hell is this?” He was still rereading the note, trying to make sense of things, when he felt Julia touch his arm. She was looking at the note over his shoulder with Evelyn. Both looked horrified.
“This isn’t right,” Julia murmured. “That’s Amelia’s handwriting, but she didn’t write this of her own accord.”
“Of course she did,” Kitty said. “Why on earth would she write such a thing if it wasn’t true? Besides, Mr. Cheadle is gone, too. They left in the middle of the night, obviously together.”
Julia took the letter from Nate’s clenched fist and pointed to the salutation. “My dearest Fantine? She doesn’t even like her maid, she told me so herself. Mr. Cheadle made her write this.”
Nate shook his head, struggling to control his fury and fear. Amelia needed his actions, not his panic, and he could help her only if he kept his head clear. “Of course he did. It’s no secret he’s desperate for her fortune. He means to take it by any means necessary.”
“It’s not as if she was some sort of prized catch, fortune or no,” Kitty said mulishly. “Perhaps she thought marrying Cheadle was her best option.”
“No, she didn’t, because last night I asked her to marry me!” Nate shouted.
The room fell silent. Everyone looked from Nate to Julia and back. Julia smiled serenely, ready to put out the fire of speculation before it could start.
“What wonderful news, Mr. Smythe.”
Nate sought Radwill’s shocked eyes over the breakfast table. “I’m sorry, Radwill. I was going to speak to you privately today.”
Lord Radwill swallowed and nodded. “It’s all right. I sensed she had some affection for you, but since you seemed to be committed elsewhere...” He cast a quick glance at Julia. “I thought she and I might get on well. So you see, Miss Ponsoy, Mr. Cheadle was not her best option and she knew it, because I meant to propose to her today.”
“Well,” Lady Watting sniffed. “Miss Wheeler certainly has been busy.”
“Almost as busy as Kitty,” Evelyn snapped.
Lady Watting’s eyes went wide. “And what do you mean by that, Lady Evelyn?”
“You’d better ask Kitty. Or better yet, ask Will.”
Behind Kitty, Will Thistlethwaite quietly stood from the table and slipped from the room.
Kitty glared at Evelyn. “Well, Cheadle is Amelia’s only option now. She’s been out all night with him. She’ll have to marry him to save face.”
“Oh, do be quiet, Kitty,” Evelyn said. “You’re the last person to fuss about saving reputations.” Kitty gasped but Evelyn plowed over her. “This is serious. Amelia’s been taken by this man. We have to do something, Papa.”
Lord Tewsbury shifted in his seat. “I’m not sure it’s something we should get involved in, Evie. Her father—”
Evelyn stamped her foot, exhibi
ting every bit of her spoiled nature, but now on Amelia’s behalf. “Her father is in London! He left her here under your protection! And now one of your guests has...has...kidnapped her!”
“Kidnapping? That seems a bit extreme,” Tewsbury protested.
“Oh really?” Evelyn shrilled, working herself into a state of outrage. “He took her from this house against her will. That is kidnapping, and I, for one, won’t sit idly by and let it happen. Neither will you, Papa.”
The door to the breakfast room opened and a footman slipped in to whisper something in the butler’s ear. The butler, Marks, cleared his throat.
“I’ve been informed that Mr. Morley has also apparently departed during the night.”
Evelyn spun to face her father. “You see? A man doesn’t bring his friend along when he’s eloping. He does, however, if he’s kidnapping. I never did like that Morley. Odious man. I can’t believe you invite him to stay, Mama.”
“Evie, darling, you asked me to.”
“Well, you still shouldn’t have done it because now look what he’s done.”
Lord Tewsbury heaved a great sigh as his wife worried her handkerchief.
“This does look a bit unpleasant,” the countess said. “She was a respectable young woman—”
Kitty snorted and Evelyn reached out to pinch her hard.
The countess carried on. “—and our guests have done her a great wrong. My dear, we must lend our assistance at once.” She turned to Nate. “Mr. Smythe, it seems if Amelia is your fiancée, as you say, this concerns you most of all. What can we do to help?”
Nate struggled to think. She’d been with him in his bed until nearly four in the morning, when he’d fallen asleep. Cheadle must have accosted her on her way back to her room. And if he knew where she’d been... Well, exposing their secret would have been precisely the threat to force her cooperation. It was a little past eight. “They couldn’t have gotten far. Question the servants. They had to call for a coach to the train station. And someone needs to speak to the stationmaster. Surely someone noted the three of them leaving together at that early hour.”
“Yes, of course,” Julia said. “Those are all good ideas. I’ll speak to Fantine myself, to see what of Amelia’s things might be missing.”
Tewsbury hoisted himself out of his chair. “Marks, speak to Hill and see if they called for a carriage. Find out when they left and where they went.”
“Yes, Your Lordship.”
“I’ll go to the train station,” Nate said, desperately needing to be doing something. “And I’ll leave for London immediately, to tell her father.”
“I’ll join you, Mr. Smythe,” Lord Tewsbury said, patting Evelyn on the arm. “Evie’s right. The girl is our guest. It’s my responsibility to see to her safety.”
“Thank you, Lord Tewsbury,” Nate replied. He was prepared to move heaven and earth to get Amelia back safely, but there was no denying an earl could make the whole thing easier.
“Marks,” Evelyn barked. Marks flinched slightly. “Have Mr. Cheadle’s room thoroughly searched in case he left anything behind, something that might tell us where he’s taking her.”
“Yes, Lady Evelyn.”
“And Marks.” Evelyn raised her chin, eyeing every person in the room, servants and guests alike. “No word of this incident shall leave this house. Any servant caught spreading the story shall be summarily dismissed without a reference.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Marks left to carry out his orders.
“Evie,” Tony Batchelder laughed. “You can’t think to cover this up, can you? She’s been alone with Cheadle all night. Amelia Wheeler is ruined, whether you find her or not.”
“Every person here knows the truth of her disappearance. Anyone who spreads tales alluding to anything else is not someone I shall ever wish to know again.” Her tone was commanding, and the implication was clear. Protect Amelia’s reputation or be cut off by the Earl of Tewsbury and his family henceforth. Every older gentleman at the party was a political ally of the earl, and every younger gentleman was a dependent. No one present could afford to offend the earl or his family. Even Kitty had nothing to say. Evelyn glared at Tony Batchelder. “And I believe it’s ‘Lady Evelyn’ to you.”
“Tony, if you or any of your Cambridge cronies think to make sport at Amelia’s expense, you’ll be answering to me.” Nate stared Tony down, making sure the other man fully understood the threat.
“And me,” Evelyn said.
“And me,” Lord Radwill added. “Blasted unfair to blame this on Amelia when she’s the victim here.”
Nate gave Radwill a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m a bit disappointed, but I wish her no ill will.”
“We’ll find her, Mr. Smythe,” Evelyn assured him.
“We will,” Julia chimed in. “All will be well. I’m sure of it.”
Nate nodded. “I’ll find her. And when I do, I will kill Cheadle.”
“I’ll help you,” Evelyn growled.
Nate turned and headed out for the train station.
* * *
The countryside rolled by in a gently undulating green blur outside the train window. Amelia stared at it as if enthralled, but her eyes saw nothing.
“I do hope you plan on feeding me at some point,” she said without looking away from the window. “You rushed me out of the house before I could get a bite to eat and I’m famished.”
Cheadle sighed. “And where do you expect me to acquire food on a moving train?”
“We’re approaching Colchester. Surely someone at the station will be selling food.”
“I wasn’t planning on getting off.”
“You can’t starve me all the way to London, you know.”
“Oh, get the bitch a biscuit or two in Colchester if it’ll shut her up.”
She finally turned to her companions and smiled sunnily. “Why, thank you for your gracious consideration, Mr. Morley.”
He sneered at her and slouched in his seat, letting his hat slide forward to shield his eyes as he napped. When Cheadle had hustled her out of the house in the predawn gloom and into the carriage he’d had waiting, she’d almost put up a fight and decked him. But then Morley had opened the carriage door and ushered her in and she’d lost her nerve. Cheadle was a worm and she was fairly sure, with a little surprise on her side, she could take him, if necessary. Morley was another matter. Morley scared her a bit, and she could hardly handle them both at once. So she played along and got into the carriage, and then onto the train.
At any point she could raise an alarm and cry out for help. That thought kept fear at bay. Cheadle had made it clear he’d ruin her if she did so, although it was less of a threat than he supposed. Ruination had hovered over her since her coming out, a fate she seemed forever avoiding by the skin of her teeth. Now, when the reality of it was nearly upon her, she found it was almost freeing. There. Her reputation was in tatters. No more worrying about it. She didn’t care about it for herself. It was only the thought of her mother’s reaction that made her miserable. The embarrassment, the disappointment...it might kill her, quite literally.
She would destroy Cheadle for harming her mother’s peace of mind this way. She only needed to figure out how to do it. It suited her for now to let him think he’d triumphed, but Cheadle was a man with secrets and she meant to find them out. After all, blackmail went both ways.
“So what is your plan once we reach London?”
Cheadle grimaced and swiped at his damp forehead with his handkerchief. He’d looked nearly sick with nerves and fear since he’d dragged her out of Tewsmere. Apparently his constitution wasn’t up to villainy. “We’ll marry, of course, my dear.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “You might as well drop the endearments. We both know you can’t stand me. It
’s mutual, by the way, since we’re being so honest.”
“Dislike me all you want. I don’t want your regard, only your fortune.”
“How very flattering.”
“Why do you need my flattery? I won’t insult your intelligence by lying to you. After last night, your reputation is ruined, Amelia. Someday you might find some middling little tradesman willing to overlook your past to offer for you, but your hopes for a respectable marriage to someone like Radwill are gone. You can accept your social banishment and eventually marry down, or you can marry me, acquire a title and hang on to your place in Society. The choice is clear.”
Amelia tapped a gloved fingertip against her chin, pretending to consider his words. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I am. And it’s not as if I’ll expect an actual marriage from you. You’ll be free to live your own life, within reason.”
“You mean you won’t want to...”
Cheadle’s lip curled as his eyes traced over her. “I’m not especially keen to sample Smythe’s leavings.”
She didn’t have to fake the venom in her voice. “That suits me perfectly, as I can’t think of a worse fate than allowing you into my bed.”
“Then our marriage shall be founded on a mutual desire to avoid each other as much as possible.”
“Of course. I suppose many married couples dislike each other. This could be worse. You’ll be a viscount one day. The viscountess, Lady... What is the title again?”
Cheadle sighed wearily. “My father is Viscount Chiswick.”
“Viscountess Chiswick. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“You see? I knew I’d convince you to see reason.”
“Oh, you’ll find I’m reasonable enough when properly motivated. But, tell me, what are your plans once we reach London? Are you going to call on my father?”
“Good God, no! He might refuse his consent.”
“Oh, Father won’t care who I marry as long as there’s a title in it for me.”
A Common Scandal Page 22