The Importance of Being Scandalous

by Kimberly Bell

  “We’ve made amends,” Amelia said, perking up. “Julia no longer wants me to marry Embry, and I couldn’t be happier to be in accord, even though the circumstances that brought it about were terrifying.”

  He couldn’t help stiffening a little. “I heard Lord Montrose came to visit you. Did he have anything to say?”

  “He only left an hour ago. How did you—don’t tell me. The all-knowing Lady Wakefield.” Amelia shook her head. “Yes. He had plenty to say, unfortunately.”

  “Was any of it about me?”

  Amelia’s eyes went wide. “How could your mother possibly know we talked about you?”

  Damn, damn, damn. Montrose had told her. “This wasn’t how I wanted to do this, but please hear me out.”

  “Nicholas.”

  He slid off the couch and onto one knee. Nick took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Amelia Bishop, will you marry me?”

  She blinked. Amelia looked down at him. Her brown eyes were full of surprise but still warm. Still—dare he hope—loving? “Nick, you know I can’t.”

  It stung, but he’d been prepared for her objection. He pulled the little book of sonnets and the letters that had best expressed his love from the inside pocket of his jacket. “You have known me almost your entire life, and I have not changed. I am still the boy who wrote you letters every day I was away—I just lost the courage to send them, because they would reveal how much I care for you.”

  “Nick.”

  “And this book. I bought it for you in Paris. It speaks my heart better than I can.”

  She put the letters aside, holding the book gently, running her thumb down the spine and turning the pages. He watched her lips move faintly as she read the first sonnet.

  “Please, Mia. Say you care for me, too.”

  She looked at him again. There was a sheen of tears making the perfect brown of her eyes sparkle. “Of course I care for you.”

  A giant weight lifted from Nicholas and he felt like he would float up through the ceiling. He pulled her to him and kissed her.

  It was like touching lightning. All the tingles on earth, concentrated on one tiny point of contact. It hurt a little, feeling so much all at once. Amelia leaned into him, trying to spread it out across more of their bodies. Nicholas pressed against her, giving her the contact she craved. His tongue touched hers but it wasn’t a conquest, it was a question. She answered it with enthusiasm.

  She slid her hands inside his jacket, feeling the warmth of his skin and solid strength of his muscles through the linen. Her hands ran across the planes of his chest, up to his shoulders. She heard him groan in response and it called to something within her that demanded she answer. Abandoning her exploration of his chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Nicholas seemed to know what she was asking. He pulled her forward across the cushions, his thigh shifting to a position between her own and his mouth moved over hers in a more calculated fashion. Amelia lost track of everything except the feel of his lips against hers and the delicious pressure of him all over. She was so far gone, she didn’t understand when he lifted his head and pulled back.

  Amelia looked up at him, finding adoration mixed with intensity and…Nick. Only Nick. The same Nick who’d tended orphan kittens with her in the barn and argued continental politics with her until they were both red in the face.

  “Oh my,” she said quietly.

  He smiled. His eyes memorized her face and hers did the same to his as his fingers came to rest against the side of her neck. He stroked, ever so softly.

  Amelia’s lips parted of their own accord. There was still only a whisper’s distance between them.

  “We’d better not.” His eyes traced the curve of her lips, undermining his words.

  She couldn’t quite get her thoughts to order. It felt like they were the only two people in the universe. “Why?”

  “It’s not proper.”

  “I should hope not,” she said. “If there are proper things that feel like that and I’ve been missing them this entire time…”

  Nick laughed. “We’ll want to think about the proper way to tell everyone, instead of letting ourselves be discovered.”

  Tell everyone? Had he gone completely mad? Oh. Oh no. “I told you, Nick. I can’t marry you.”

  He froze. “But you kissed me back.”

  “I did.” Amelia smiled. And this was the part that hurt. “I like kissing you. I like you and I would like to do a great deal more than kiss you. But I can’t marry you.”

  “Then what—”

  She could almost feel the pain radiating off him. Amelia took a deep breath. The scandals of the past few weeks couldn’t hold a candle to what she was about to say. Even thinking it was exhilarating. “I think we should have an affair.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Of course I am. It’s the perfect solution. I can stay here with Julia, and you and I can—”

  “Can what? Live in sin? Disgrace our families?” Nick set her away from him, standing up to pace the room. “This is ludicrous.”

  The anger in his voice hurt. Amelia had expected him to take some convincing, but she’d thought he would at least consider it. She tried to explain. “Nicholas, think how nice it could be. We care for each other. We’re attracted to each other.”

  “Then marry me.”

  “No!” Amelia regretted raising her voice, but he wasn’t listening. “I don’t want to marry. I don’t—”

  “Do you think you don’t know me?” Nicholas challenged. “Do you think I’m going to change suddenly?”

  The answer to that was complicated. He was Nick—he was always Nick. But these feelings she had for him were so new, and for him to suddenly declare feelings for her after years of saying nothing... He was the same, but their relationship had changed. “Of course I know you, but—”

  His face clouded over. His entire posture went stiff. “But you can’t marry me. So it’s not a matter of knowing me.”

  “Nick.” Amelia ached to see him shut her out.

  His movements were jerky, like he wasn’t entirely aware of himself. “You accepted Montrose’s proposal and he was a complete stranger to you. But he was a titled stranger.” He picked up the packet of letters and tucked them back into his jacket. He refused to look at her while he prepared to leave. “He wasn’t a second son, stupid enough to silently devote himself to you for twelve years, hoping you might someday see his value.”

  Twelve years. What did he mean? Amelia went to him, reaching for him. He had it all wrong. If he would only listen, she could explain. “That’s not it at all. I just… I do see your value, Nick.”

  “As a contingency plan. As a pale replacement for a husband,” he spat out. He pulled her hand from his chest, setting it back at her side as he stepped around her.

  “Nick!” She moved to stop him but he shook her off. “Don’t you dare leave. I know you’re upset, but we’re not done discussing this.”

  He kept his back turned to her. The rigid line of his shoulders was formidable. “No, thank you. I think I’ve played the fool long enough.”

  And then he was gone.

  Amelia sat down hard on the settee. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears, shaking her head. This was not happening. She had not reunited with Julia only to lose Nick moments later.

  And how could he be so stupid? How could he think so little of her, that she of all people would give two damns about a bloody title? His pride might be hurt, but she expected better from him. He was supposed to be her friend. If he truly meant the things he’d said, then he didn’t know her at all. They had no business in a marriage or an affair if that was what he thought of her.

  She was well rid of him.

  Amelia told herself she meant it. She ignored how much it hurt to watch him walk away from her. Ignored that she was still clasping the cushions in a death-grip to keep from chasing after him and telling him how sorry she was.

  Good riddance, Nicholas Wakefield.
>
  Chapter Twelve

  “You’re packing,” Jasper said, standing in Nicholas’s doorway.

  “I am.”

  “Which fact should we address first, that you’re robbing poor Bertram of his livelihood, or that you said you’d be staying a few more days at least?”

  Nicholas continued to stuff items haphazardly into a bag. “There’s nothing I need to do here that can’t be done from London.”

  “Is Amelia going back?”

  At the mention of her name, Nicholas gave up packing. Bertram could follow him later with his belongings. “Why don’t you go ask her?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know.” He picked up a book, only to slam it down on his dressing table. “Apparently, I don’t know a lot of things.”

  “She refused you,” Jasper said gently.

  “She didn’t just refuse me. She kissed me, like we were the only two people on earth and the world was unraveling around us, and then she refused me.”

  “Well done, Amelia.”

  “Well done?” Nicholas shouted. “Well done? This is the worst day of my life and you’re taking her side?”

  “Lord Nicholas,” Smithson interrupted, frowning at his raised voice. “Your mother needs to speak with you at once.”

  “Fine. I’m on my way.”

  Anything to get away from Jasper or how miserable he felt. He’d finally declared himself and she turned him down. Not because she wasn’t attracted to him. Not because she didn’t care for him. Because she only saw him as being suitable for an affair, not for being her husband.

  “I say ‘well done’ because it’s an excellent opening volley,” Jasper said, following him and speaking quietly over his shoulder.

  “It’s not a volley. It was a finality. She doesn’t want to marry me.”

  “She kissed you.”

  “Yes.” She’d kissed Montrose, too. How foolish Nicholas had been.

  “Did she enjoy it?”

  “That is not the problem.” Nicholas didn’t want to think about it anymore.

  “So she likes you and she likes your kisses. She just doesn’t want to marry you?”

  Why did he have to keep repeating it? “Apparently.”

  “Does she want to marry anyone?”

  Nicholas stopped mid-step. “She says not, which is ludicrous. Which means that I have been under the tragic misapprehension—”

  Jasper started laughing, loudly and with an extreme lack of consideration for anyone around him. At one point he bent over, holding himself up with a hand on his knee. When he was finished, his eyes were watering and he was fanning his face to help with the redness.

  “What on earth is so amusing?”

  “You don’t know a thing about women. Not your fault, really.” Jasper clapped him on the back. “You’ve dedicated your entire life to knowing this one woman and she’s gone and confounded you. This is where some diversity of experience would come in handy.”

  “I know plenty about women. I do not need your help.”

  “You do, desperately. Go and see your mother.” Jasper took a seat on a chair outside the study. “And when you’re done, we’ll go to London and I’ll take you to see the expert on women who do not wish to marry. She’ll know what to do to convince Amelia to change her mind.”

  Nicholas wanted to ignore him. He wanted to stay angry, but if there was a chance, he had to take it. “Who’s this expert?”

  Jasper’s grin was triumphant. “Lady Ruby De Vere.”

  “Your sister?” It served him right for believing a single word that came out of Jasper’s mouth. Nicholas continued his path to the study.

  “The legendary breaker of hearts who has turned down no less than three dukes and a crown prince. Who, yes, also happens to be my sister.”

  He was an idiot. He was a fool. He turned around. “You think she can really help?”

  “Obviously. She’s a De Vere.”

  Nicholas wanted to marry her.

  She hadn’t asked him for help with the next stage of her and Julia’s plan. How could she, with the way he’d stormed out? It was a good thing she didn’t want to marry, because her history with proposals was proving dismally unexceptional.

  “Did you ask him? Will he do it?” Julia was waiting impatiently.

  “No,” Amelia said, still in a haze. She sat down in the chair next to the bed, rubbing her fingers over the cover of the book of sonnets he’d left behind.

  Julia followed her. “No, you didn’t ask him? Or no, he won’t do it?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Because he asked me to marry him.”

  Julia was stricken silent for perhaps the first time in her life. Amelia stared at the wall, not actually seeing it.

  “Nicholas asked you to marry him just now?”

  Amelia shook herself, sighing. “Yes. I said no, and then he kissed me, and then I said no again. He stormed out.”

  “Oh, Mia.” Julia climbed out of bed and wrapped her arms around Amelia’s shoulders. “Why did you refuse him?”

  “I told you; I don’t want to marry. I want to stay here with you. I thought, of all people, Nick would understand but he thinks it’s because he doesn’t have a title. I’ve never seen him so hurt.”

  Julia hummed her sympathy. “Men and their pride. Unfortunately, that puts a damper on our plans for your next big scandal.”

  It put a damper on more than that. Nicholas was her best friend, next to Julia, and in some ways more than Julia. He was the person she turned to when she couldn’t see her way clear of something. She’d never seen him so upset.

  Well, so be it. He’d misjudged her as badly as he thought she’d misjudged him. If he expected to hold the monopoly on hurt feelings, he was in for a surprise. “I think I know someone else I can ask. Lord Bellamy. I think he’ll help.”

  “The man who punched Lord Montrose?”

  “Yes.”

  “You hardly know him.”

  “We’ve become good friends. If there’s mischief involved, he’ll help if he can.” Unless he’d decided to take Nicholas’s side. But there would be no knowing until she spoke to him.

  “He sounds intriguing.”

  It was Amelia’s turn to wrap her sister in an exuberant hug. “I can’t wait for you to meet him. I’m certain you two will get on.”

  Julia’s whole body stiffened. “Mia, no.”

  “Julia, he’s not like that.”

  “He’s the heir to a dukedom! I’m not meeting him.”

  Amelia scowled at her sister. “Why am I the only one who has to take risks and expand my horizons?”

  “Because you’re not a black mark on the family name, inveterately shunned by society.”

  Amelia wasn’t done with that line of discussion, but she was prepared to leave it for now. “Well, give it a moment. If I do half the things we’ve planned, I’ll have earned my place right next to you.”

  “Goodness. Poor Mother and Papa.”

  “I know. They’ll start to wonder if our bloodline really is morally corrupt.”

  “I think we can safely say it is,” Julia said with a grin.

  Amelia jumped up, putting Nicholas out of her mind. “All right, then. We must make haste. I wish to be rid of Embry as soon as possible and get this whole mess behind us. How do we convince Papa to let you come to London?”

  Based on the coldness of his mother’s greeting and the rigidness of her posture, Nicholas was about to be treated to an encounter with yet another woman who didn’t think he amounted to much.

  “What did you need to speak with me about?” he asked, willing the encounter to end quickly.

  “Smithson tells me you’ve called for the carriage. You’re leaving again?”

  “Yes.”

  Lady Wakefield’s eyes narrowed. “What happened at the Bishops’?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Do not lie to me, Nicholas. You were going to stay all wee
k, and then you went over to that…that…” She was incapable of vulgarity even in her anger. “And now you’re leaving. Your father received a very distressing letter from Lord Montrose, so don’t pretend not to know what I mean.”

  “It’s none of your business, Mother.”

  “It is every bit of my business! Do you think it’s easy, being here alone with your father? Watching him fade? Watching him become violent?” Her hand flew up, hovering near her mouth. “You were supposed to be here with me, helping. Instead, nothing has changed. Wherever Amelia Bishop is, that’s where you can be found.”

  It was the wrong day for her to challenge him on this. Any other day, he wouldn’t have argued with her. “Has it ever mattered to you in the slightest that I am in love with her?”

  Her face shuttered into stubborn denial. “Don’t say that.”

  “We both know it’s the truth. That’s why you sent me away. She’s the one person who makes me truly happy, but you care more about reputation than whether I’m happy.” He’d gone too far to stop now. He’d broached the unbroachable subject. And he should have done this a long time ago. “That’s why you’re alone. You could be surrounded by friends and family to help you through this, but you can’t dare to let anyone think the Wakefield bloodline might be as fallible as the Bishops’. Not after all the venom you’ve spewed.”

  His mother went pale. She was shaking from the strain of not shouting at him. Nicholas wished she would. He wished she’d give up appearances once and for all and be his mother.

  Instead she said, “You’re clearly overwrought. We’ll discuss this another time.”

  “We won’t, actually. The issue of Amelia Bishop is closed.” God, it hurt to say it. “I offered her our name, but she didn’t want it.”

  Lady Wakefield gasped. “You what?”

  “I’m not good enough for her.” And honestly, could he blame her? Why on earth would she want to join a family that despised her when she could stay with her own? “So now you can rest easy. Amelia Bishop has refused the opportunity to become a Wakefield. Twice.”

  “Thank God for that,” she breathed.

  “No, Mother, not thank God. I shall spend the rest of my days miserable without her. I doubt God wants much to do with any of that.”