“Please.”
His sister-in-law came back with Philip in tow, and Nicholas handed him the letter.
Philip read it over and nodded with pride. “Well done, little brother.”
“You’re sure the timing is all right?”
“Couldn’t be better. I’m relinquishing the last of my committee seats at the end of Hilary term.”
Caroline squeezed his arm. “I’m so happy for you, Nicholas. You’re going to make a wonderful barrister.”
“And an even better representative in Commons!” Philip insisted.
“One step at a time, I think.” There was so much that could go wrong between now and then. Right this instant, Nicholas just wanted to celebrate.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Embry said, once they’d been left alone.
She was unstoppable, Amelia reminded herself. Unstoppable women didn’t waste time being polite. “The last time I saw you, you accused me of having an affair with Lord Bellamy.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Was wrong. You’re wrong about a lot of things, like wanting to marry me.”
“Amelia, please.” Embry cast his eyes toward the ceiling. “I only came to find out why you haven’t accepted Charlotte’s invitation to her coming out ball tonight.”
“Because we hate each other and I don’t want to go?”
Embry pulled at his cravat, loosening it due to some imaginary warmth. The shadows under his eyes stood out in the bright light coming through the window. At least she was making him as exhausted as he was making her.
“She’s my family, Amelia. You two are going to have to learn to rub along together amiably. For what it’s worth, she’s promised to behave.”
“Has she?” Amelia laughed. “Well, I make no such promises. In fact, I’ve become rather good at misbehaving lately.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Perhaps, just perhaps, she could end this here and now. He couldn’t possibly want her if she told him.
She hoped Nick would forgive her. “I made love to Nicholas Wakefield last night. Many times.”
Embry recoiled from her. The lines of his face constricted into a mask of revulsion—of pain. “You’re lying.”
“I don’t love you,” she said, enunciating each word so he couldn’t mistake her. “I love him.”
Embry put a hand up, trying to physically stop the words from reaching his ears. He shook his head. “You’re young and inexperienced. You only think you love him because you don’t know any better.”
Disbelief pushed a choked laugh from her throat. Recklessness spurred her further. All or nothing. “I’ve had his cock in my mouth, Embry, and I liked it.”
Emotions flashed across his face too quickly to identify. The last one had Amelia backing toward the door.
“Is that what it takes to get your attention?” he asked, stalking toward her. “To earn your loyalty? Have I been mistaken in behaving like a gentleman?”
“Embry, stop.”
It seemed for a moment like he might do something drastic, but he regained his composure. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and controlled. “I will consider your confession and decide what to do with it. In the meantime, be ready when I come back this evening.”
Amelia listened to him storm out; his heavy footfalls in the hall, Lady Bishop begging him to stay a little longer. She went upstairs to Julia’s room to avoid the lecture she knew would be coming.
“What was all that about?” Julia asked when the door slammed downstairs.
“I told Embry I made love to Nicholas.”
Julia eyes flew wide. “Did you say it, or did you actually do it?”
“I did it.” Amelia nodded, rushing past that confession. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and shock was setting in. “I was quite graphic when I told him. I said cock.”
“Well,” Julia said. “If that doesn’t do it.”
I will consider your confession. “Jules, if I have to marry him, I think I might die.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It will not come to that.”
“It might. He should have thrown me over right then and there, but he didn’t. You know I can’t let…”
Julia finished what Amelia wouldn’t say. “Let me suffer through life without a fortune to insulate me from people’s disgust?”
The matter of fact way her sister spoke about being reviled broke Amelia’s heart. “You’re not disgusting.”
“Obviously not,” Julia said imperiously. “But it doesn’t stop people from thinking it.”
“It’s not only you. Mother and Papa would suffer as well.”
“But me most.” Julia refused to let it go. “Admit it. If it were just Mother and Papa, you would have called the engagement off weeks ago.”
Amelia couldn’t deny it.
“Promise me, Mia. Promise you won’t marry him, no matter what happens.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. It’s time for you to be selfish.”
As if it were that easy, to suddenly decide to become selfish. “Maybe it won’t come to that.”
“Perhaps,” Julia agreed. “We do have other options. For instance, we could drug Montrose and have him shipped off somewhere awful.”
The corners of Amelia’s mouth turned up.
“Or we could have him killed,” Julia suggested.
“Julia.” Her sister’s tone was a little too earnest for Amelia’s comfort.
Her sister’s enthusiasm rose. “Better yet, marry him and then we’ll have him killed. Then you’ll be a widowed countess and you can do whatever you like.”
Amelia shook her head. “All of your solutions sound like something a villain in a play would do.”
“Then let’s be villains,” Julia said seriously. “Honestly. Montrose is using the fact that no one likes us to blackmail you, so to hell with it. Let’s be unlikeable.”
It probably wouldn’t take much more before Amelia agreed to something of this sort. She was tired and she was frightened. “If it comes to that, I’ll think about it.”
“If it comes to that, you won’t have to. I’ll see to it.”
“Julia!”
“Don’t.” Julia took Amelia’s hands in hers. “I won’t be used to hold you hostage much longer, Mia. I am not some helpless pawn.”
She certainly wasn’t. Amelia envied that. She’d spent more time feeling helpless in the last few weeks than she’d ever thought possible.
Flopping back onto the bed, Amelia asked, “How did we go from racing horses through the meadow to pondering the murder of my fiancé?”
Julia fell back beside her. “You tried to get married before me.”
“How foolish of me.”
Getting dressed to go out took longer than it should have. Her every movement weighed with dread. Her life was closing in around her, a noose ready to strangle her.
“Honestly, Amelia.” Lady Bishop sailed into the room without knocking. “Why aren’t you dressed? Embry will be here any minute.”
Embry might be the one holding the rope, but her mother was certainly cheering him on.
“Mother.” Amelia watched her mother in the mirror’s reflection. “I need to ask something of you.”
“Of course, dear. Anything.”
“Stop conspiring with Embry.”
Lady Bishop’s features masked themselves in neutrality. “I haven’t been doing anything of the sort.”
“You have. You are. Please stop.”
Her mother’s nose tilted slightly into the air. “I’m only trying to keep you from making a grievous mistake.”
Amelia turned to her mother. “So you know I don’t want to marry him?”
“You’ve just got a case of nerves, darling.”
“Does Papa know?” Amelia asked. “That I don’t intend to marry Embry?”
“Of course not.” Lady Bishop’s affront was evident. “And he doesn’t need to, because you’re going to give up t
his foolishness.”
“I will not. I don’t love him.”
Her mother’s expression turned mulish. “Well, you should have thought of that before you accepted his proposal. But I’m sure you’ll change your mind once you…”
She would not be changing her mind, but her mother’s sudden trailing off drove another spike of apprehension through Amelia. “Once I what?”
“Nothing. Marry. Once you marry, you’ll grow used to him.”
She didn’t care that Amelia would be trapped in a loveless marriage. “Please leave my room, Mother.”
“Embry is almost here.”
“Leave. Now!” This new habit she was developing of shouting at people was strangely satisfying.
At the door, Lady Bishop turned back to her daughter. “Being an outcast was never difficult for you, but going back will be agony now that you know what you’re missing.”
“You mean it will be agony for you. You’re the only one of us who ever cared.” And you’re willing to sacrifice me to get it back. Betrayal sluiced under Amelia’s skin like hot water. It rushed past her eardrums and left splotchy patches of crimson on her skin. It reached her eyes, leaking out in tears of accusation.
Her own mother.
“Mia?” Julia came in.
Amelia tried to wipe them away before Julia could notice. It was hopeless.
“What’s she done now?” Julia tipped Amelia’s chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.
“She doesn’t care that I’m unhappy. She wants me to marry him anyway, so she can keep going to parties.”
Julia’s eyes narrowed. Her head tilted the way it did when she was plotting one of her elaborate revenges, but she smiled reassuringly. “She can want all she likes. We make our own decisions. Haven’t we always?”
Amelia nodded. Since the very first, from their earliest moments. She dried her eyes, standing up. “I’m all right now.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am. I should get ready. Embry is probably here by now.”
Frown lines creased Julia’s brow. “You don’t have to go, Mia. We can say you’re ill.”
Amelia shook her head. “No, It’s all right. I’ll be all right.”
“Do you want me to go with you? I will.”
The feeling of betrayal disappeared, replaced by a new ache. Julia, who hadn’t set foot outside of the townhouse since she’d arrived, who hid upstairs when anyone visited, was offering to go to a ball. Just to make Amelia feel better. Any other day, Amelia would have jumped on the opportunity, but she knew now that it wasn’t because Julia wanted to. It was because she loved Amelia that much.
“I’m really all right. If you want to come anyway, of course, you may.”
“No, thank you,” Julia said, relief evident.
Someday. Someday Julia would be ready, for her own reasons. For now, Amelia would be strong enough to face her problems on her own.
“So what do you think?” Amelia asked, turning to the ballgowns laid out on the bed. “Which one of these is more suited to evading one’s fiancé? Amethyst with seed pearls, or peach chiffon?”
Jasper’s summons came with a request that Nicholas dress for dinner. As usual, no explanation was included. Honestly, the man ought to write penny dreadfuls for all his love of mystery and cloak-and-dagger communications.
When he arrived, Jasper was already seated in the dining room with a course in front of him.
“It is customary, when one invites someone over for a meal, that one wait until that person has arrived to begin eating it.”
“Customary is for the boring. Sit down.”
A place setting appeared, and a chair was pulled out for Nicholas. The footman and Jasper stared at him expectantly.
Nicholas sighed and sat down. “Your message said you had news.”
“It’s bad manners to discuss business during dinner.” Jasper tasted what looked to be pea soup.
“Sod off.”
Jasper grinned. “The boy I have following Montrose sent some interesting information today.”
“Amelia loves me. Montrose and his movements can go hang.”
“What a lovely picture, but I think you want to hear what he had to say.”
“Fine.” Nicholas waited in vain. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Not yet. If I tell you, you’ll rush off and I would like to enjoy a meal with you.”
“Jasper, if it’s important, just tell me.”
“I will tell you, if you give me your word that you won’t do anything rash until after we finish our meal.”
Nicholas looked at the table. “What course are we on?”
“The third.”
“Of?”
“Eight. I assure you, there will be plenty of time. The information pertains to something happening tomorrow.”
Not even Jasper’s mysterious ridiculousness could ruin his mood today. “You’d better get me some wine, then.”
Jasper grinned in triumph. The footman jumped to attention, filling his glass with a rich gold chardonnay. Nicholas tested his soup. Cucumber and mint, served chilled. “This is delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Jasper beamed. “I think Montrose is planning something.”
“Beyond blackmailing Amelia?”
Jasper swirled his wine in its glass. “He has booked passage for Upper Canada, leaving tomorrow.”
Nicholas set down his glass, daring to hope. “That sounds like he’s finally given up.”
“He booked passage for two. Himself and his wife.”
The hope evaporated. “Amelia wouldn’t have changed her mind.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Jasper agreed. “I entertained the idea that you were a terrible lover and you’d horrified her back into his arms, but I taught you everything you know, so that can’t be it.”
He ignored Jasper’s Jasper-isms and sifted through to the heart of the words. “You think Montrose means to kidnap her.” His stomach was already churning.
“I think he might.”
He had to get to her. If Montrose managed to get her on that ship, Nick might never see her again. He stood up.
Jasper waved him back into his chair. “The ship doesn’t leave until tomorrow, and you promised you’d stay until the end.”
How was he supposed to eat when the love of his life could be in the midst of a kidnap attempt? “Amelia is in danger.”
Jasper gestured his fork. “My messengers assure me she is at home, right where she ought to be.”
“I thought I told you to stop spying on her.”
“Aren’t you glad I never listen to you?”
“Not particularly.” Nick looked down at his bowl. The soup had suddenly lost all flavor. “If you expect me to stay, you’d better serve the fish early.”
Montrose would not win.
Chapter Eighteen
“Are you listening, Amelia?”
“Hmm?” Amelia abandoned her introspection. She had a great deal to think about and the last place she wanted to be was in the middle of a crowded ballroom with Embry watching her like a hawk.
“Charlotte complimented you on your dress.”
“I adore seed pearls,” Embry’s younger cousin repeated with a sneer at Amelia’s dress.
Amelia blinked at her. Montrose might think he’d tamed his cousins, but Amelia did not share his faith. They would continue to be wretched, horrible creatures whenever the opportunity presented itself.
“Amelia,” Montrose said through clenched teeth. “You’re being rude.”
“Am I? I can’t imagine why.”
Embry looked like he wanted to drag her off and strangle her. Charlotte put her hand on his arm. “It’s quite all right, Embry. Besides, I’m sure the Canadians won’t mind her manners as much.”
Canadians? What the devil? “Excuse me?”
“Charlotte.” Embry changed the focus of his ire.
“The Canadians,” she said, ignoring him with vicious delight. “Embry swears it’s q
uite civilized, but it’s basically a frontier. I doubt they have enough society to care about your lack of social graces, or your atrocious family.”
Amelia still didn’t understand. “I’m not going to Canada.”
“Aren’t you?” Charlotte’s smirk was unbearable.
“Charlotte.” Embry glared at his cousin.
Amelia turned to Embry. “What is she talking about?”
“It’s nothing.” Montrose scanned the crowd over her head.
“I doubt that. Tell me.”
“Not now, Amelia.”
The youngest Miss Chisholm giggled maliciously, curls bobbing in her mirth.
“Yes, now Embry.” Amelia shot his cousin a glare. “You will tell me, or I will cause a scene that London will talk about for the next ten seasons.”
Embry ignored them both.
Right, then. There was only one scandal left on Julia’s list, and Amelia had to admit it was the only one that she thought she might actually enjoy.
She turned to Charlotte Chisholm. “Charlotte, I have a gift for you.”
The girl’s eyes lit with avarice. “Have you? How wonderful.”
Amelia nodded. Her hand whipped out, landing a slap that echoed throughout the ballroom. The entire party went silent.
Miss Charlotte stared in shock with her mouth gaping wide and a pink handprint on her cheek.
“Amelia!” Embry shouted. His knuckles were white on his champagne glass and a fascinating shade of crimson was climbing up his neck.
“I warned you,” she said.
Before anyone else had time to react, he was hauling her by her arm out of the house and calling for his carriage.
“Of all the unmannered, ungrateful behaviors.” He stomped around the driveway. “It’s her coming out ball!”
Amelia didn’t have any sympathy to spare either of them. “And now it will be remembered for years. Tell me what she was talking about.”
The carriage arrived, interrupting his answer. He told the driver to take them back to the Bishop townhouse and sat glaring at her across the cab.
“Embry.”
In the straightforward fashion she used to admire, Embry delivered his news. “I’ve taken a position representing the crown in Upper Canada.”
“When?”
“Effective immediately.”
The Importance of Being Scandalous Page 23