Hope leaped in Amelia’s heart. Embry was leaving. He would be thousands of miles away. “Congratulations.”
Embry looked surprised. “I’m pleased to hear you’re not opposed to it.”
“Why would I be?” She wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore and there would be plenty of time to find a way out of her engagement.
“It’s somewhat sudden. I expected you to object.”
“If you must go to Canada, then you must.”
“Not just me, Amelia.”
Who else would be going? No. Oh no.
“We’ll be married at sea once we leave port.” Embry was staring at her with an unnerving intensity. “I won’t dishonor you by coming to your bed before I become your husband, but it’s obvious that a lover is required to quiet your wilder nature. I am prepared to do what must be done.”
“I won’t go.”
“You will, even if I have to carry you up the gangplank over my shoulder. I will not lose another fiancée. I will not start over again.”
It was too much. It was too far. “This engagement is over, Embry. Sue my father for breach of promise if you like, but I will not marry you.”
“It’s too late for that, Amelia. Your mother and I have made all the arrangements. For your own good, you’ll be locked in your room until it’s time to leave for the harbor. Once you’re away from here and properly bedded, you’ll see sense.”
Nicholas was making a spectacle of himself on the doorstep of Amelia’s house, but propriety could go straight to hell. Someone was going to give him some answers or he was going to stay there all night.
“I know she’s here. You have to let me speak to her.”
“My lord, you must leave. We will be forced to call the constable.”
“Call him! A woman is being held against her will in this house. You cannot kidnap someone in this day and age!”
There was a commotion behind the butler and he stepped aside.
Lady Bishop presented herself with folded arms. “Mr. Wakefield, go home.”
“I demand to speak with Lord Bishop.”
“He’s gone to Manchester. He won’t be back anytime soon.”
So that was how they’d managed it. Amelia’s father would never have allowed something like this to happen. “You can’t do this to her.”
“I can and I will. It’s for her own good.”
“No. No, call the constable,” he told the butler. “We’ll let him get to the bottom of this.”
“The bottom of what, exactly?” Lady Bishop asked. “My daughter is not of age. I am her parent and it is my legal right and duty to decide what is best for her.”
“You cannot force her to marry him.”
“And I won’t,” Lady Bishop said with alarming cheerfulness. “But I can force her to get on that ship. After that, convincing her is up to Lord Montrose, but I am certain he is up to the task.”
Nicholas was stricken speechless. Lady Bishop took his silence as defeat and closed the door in his face. The bolt clicked audibly on the other side.
There would be no satisfaction through the front door, but Nicholas was all too aware that was not the only way into the house. He took the alley entrance around the back, only to find a footman posted at the back door. She truly was a hostage in her own home. There was no way to slip past him to her window, and no trees or moldings to climb if he could.
He tried to think of a way to get her out, but short of setting the building on fire, he was at a loss. It was time for Nicholas to admit he needed help. Not the Jasper sort of help, either. They really would end up setting the building on fire if he left it up to Jasper. No, he needed the rational help of someone who commanded respect and authority.
He just hoped Philip would agree.
Amelia could hear Nicholas yelling. Then she heard her mother, the slamming door, and nothing. Had he given up? The situation was too ludicrous to be imagined, except that she was living it.
There were footmen posted at both doors and one by her bedroom. Her room had been stripped of everything, including the sheets. Under different circumstances, she’d appreciate the lengths her mother had gone to. It showed a healthy respect for Amelia’s ingenuity. Unfortunately, since that respect was being shown as utter disregard for Amelia’s wishes, the compliment was negated.
The door creaked open. Amelia jumped up, ready to fight her way free.
Julia slipped in, looking behind her. “Well, she’s officially lost her mind.”
“You don’t say.” Amelia tried the door, but it was locked again from the outside.
“I begged visitation. I told her I thought I could talk you around so you’d fight it less.”
“You what?” If Julia had changed her mind about Embry again, Amelia would lose hers.
Julia rolled her eyes. “It was a lie, silly goose. I needed to talk to you.”
“Oh.” Amelia slumped back down on the bare mattress. “Please tell me you have a plan.”
“Not yet, but that’s why I’m here. We think better together.”
Amelia was having a hard time thinking at all. She was in dire peril and the situation was quite daunting. “I am open to any and all suggestions.”
Julia sat down next to her, tapping her finger against her chin. “What we need is to remove the possibility of you marrying Embry. Then there’d be nothing in it for Mother. He’d lose his most powerful ally.”
“It’s a shame convents have fallen out of style.” Hopelessness was making her delirious.
“You could marry someone else,” Julia said. “And by someone else, I mean Nicholas.”
She loved Julia for suggesting it, but it was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. Any marriage at all would take her away from her sister. “Surely there’s another way.”
“Circumstances have become somewhat more dire than we originally anticipated.”
“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
“And I appreciate that.” Julia turned, forcing her to meet her eyes. “But I think it’s time, Amelia. I can’t hold you back forever.”
“You don’t hold me back,” Amelia insisted.
“I do. Look at you—two marriage proposals from eligible men, even though we’re disgraced and disreputable. Think what you could pull off with a decent start.”
“Julia.”
“I know. You don’t care about all that because you’re a lunatic—I suspect you get it from Mother—but you do care about Nicholas. I dare you to tell me you don’t.”
She couldn’t. They both knew it would be a lie.
“It’s Nicholas!” Julia threw her hands up. “He’s my friend, too. He’s the perfect husband for us.”
Us. God. She could just imagine it. Julia mediating their arguments. Julia deciding where they should send their children to school. Julia sticking her nose into every aspect of their relationship.
“I don’t know, Jules.”
“I do. He’s the best man we know—of two, one of whom is blackmailing you, but I like to think he’d hold up favorably in a larger contest—and he’s in love with you. What choice do you have?”
Amelia had made a promise. Julia needed her, and they needed each other. That hadn’t changed. “I don’t want to live away from you. What if something happens? What if you get sick?”
“You mean what if I die.” Julia squeezed her hand. “Nothing is going to make that easy, Mia, but having Nicholas to get you through it will help. Marry him. He won’t keep us apart, and you need him as just much as you need me.”
Amelia couldn’t wrap her mind around a world without Julia in it, but she knew Nick. He would hold her. He would help her through it. He would be the only person who could truly understand what she would have lost. She’d been thinking marriage would keep her away from Julia, but marriage with Nick would be different. She could see that now.
She should think of another way. Her heart shouldn’t be leaping at the thought of keeping Nicholas forever, but it was thudding like it wanted to burst from her
chest and run to him. She could actually have this. “You’re going to miss me dreadfully if I marry.”
“Of course, but think of all the lovemaking you and Nick will be doing. You can visit once a week to tell me all about it.”
Amelia let out a hysterical laugh. “Oh, God. All right. But it’s all a moot point because I’m stuck in this house.”
“All we have to do is get you out of this room. My room still has sheets and basic necessities. I know what I can do. I’ll be right back.” Julia knocked on the door, asking permission to leave.
“Wait!”
But it was too late. She was gone and Amelia was alone in her barren prison once again. Not a long time passed before the door swung open again, though. Julia came back through carrying an armload of books and Amelia’s keepsake box. Once the door was closed, she dropped them all on the floor.
“Why are all of your favorite books so heavy?”
“I like long stories. Thank you for bringing them. It will make the time go much faster.”
“Don’t be a ninny. It was a diversion.” Julia pulled her skirts up to her waist and started pulling sheets and table cloths from where they were tucked in to the waistband of her drawers.
“You replaced your petticoats with linens?”
“It was Nora’s idea. She’s rather genius in a pinch.” Julia held out a steak knife to Amelia. “Pretend you’re reading aloud. We need to cover the sound while we cut these into strips.”
“To what end?”
“We’re going to throw you out the window,” Julia announced.
Amelia fished out a book for inspiration. “What’s the box for?”
“You’ll need things,” Julia said, getting to work ripping strips off her sheets. “For your wedding. There’s a pair of my slippers for you to borrow. I want them back. The blue hair ribbon you put away after Nick took you to the county fair. The rest of your mementos.”
Sweet as the gesture was, it wasn’t the most practical list of items for Amelia to be hauling around while she was fleeing the city. “I think I can probably manage without those.”
Julia stopped cutting and stared at her. “You’re getting married and I won’t be there. You’re going to need the things that mean the most to you.”
Amelia was getting married, alone and on the run.
“Cut! We don’t have all night.”
“I told you not to involve me in Amelia Bishop’s engagement, Nicholas.”
Nicholas paced the study. He’d explained the situation, but his brother was being remarkably stubborn. “Does it not matter to you that she’s being wrongfully imprisoned?”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“How about the fact that I love her?”
“That’s not new information.”
He slammed his hand down on the desk. “Philip, I need you on this.”
The butler knocked on the study door. “My lord. Lady Melton requests both of your presences in the parlor.”
“We’re a bit busy. Please tell her it will have to wait.” Nicholas radiated tension.
The butler was clearly struggling with decorum, clearing his throat and shifting on his feet. “I think it might be pertinent to your current discussion.”
Philip’s eyebrows rose. “We’d better go and see.”
The trip to the parlor was silent. Nicholas was livid. This meant more to him than anything else. More than any endorsement or confidence or—his brain stopped short.
Amelia was sitting on the settee with Philip’s wife with a box on her lap.
She was safe. She was here. Why was she here? It didn’t matter. She was within arm’s reach, and the weight that lifted from his shoulders at the sight of her was a glorious gift.
Caroline’s expression was bemused. “Amelia has been telling me the most scintillating story.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, mostly to Philip. “I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t important.”
Philip’s head tilted to the side. “My brother was under the impression you were a hostage.”
“He was correct, Lord Melton.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“My sister made me an escape rope out of sheets. I climbed out the window.”
Nicholas couldn’t have stopped the smile spreading across his face if he’d tried.
“How intrepid,” Caroline murmured.
Amelia grinned. She sent a sideways glance at Nick, blushing. “Would it be all right if I spoke with Nicholas alone?”
“I doubt we could stop you.” Philip held out his hand to his wife, who was staring at Amelia like a newly discovered exotic bird.
As soon as they were gone, Nick rushed to her side. “You’re all right?”
“I’ve had an unusual evening.”
“So I gather. I tried to break you out.”
“I know, I heard. I love that you tried.”
“I love you.” He wanted to spend hours soaking up the sight of her glowing cheeks and windblown hair. He pulled a leaf from the silky strands resting on her shoulder.
“About that.” Amelia looked down at her hands. “You wouldn’t still want to marry me, would you?”
Nick’s heart actually skipped a beat. She couldn’t be serious. After everything they’d been through the last few weeks. How could she ask that, like she didn’t know the answer? Of course he did. More than anything. More than ever. The thought of her sailing away out of his life had driven him mad with the need to find a way to make her want to be his wife.
Still, she’d been so adamant about not marrying. What could possibly have changed?
“I could probably drum up some enthusiasm for it,” he joked. “Are you certain you want to?”
“I think it’s the best way to be rid of Embry once and for all.”
Ouch. Not exactly the romantic declaration he’d been hoping for. Still, she needed him. What did it matter why, as long as they were…no. No. He wouldn’t do that to himself. “I can’t marry you, Mia.”
Amelia stilled. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll help you—we’ll run away. Somewhere far where Embry won’t be able to find you. But I won’t marry you as a contingency plan. I’m more than that.” He was more than that, no matter what his parents or the rest of the world thought, and his life was his own.
She frowned. “Nick. We love each other.”
Nicholas took her hands. “I know you don’t think I’m not worthy of it. But I also know you don’t want this. It’s all right. We’ll find another way.”
She yanked her hands away from his, taking the lid off the box and riffling through it like a mad woman.
He saw the little book of sonnets he’d given her and one of his old handkerchiefs. “Amelia, what—”
“Shh!” She pulled out another small book and flipped rapidly through the pages. “September seventeenth, year of our Lord eighteen hundred and thirty-two. Dear Diary, Nicholas has been gone for a fortnight and I’m not sure I can take it. Every time I walk past our tree I burst into tears. I miss him so much.”
He would have been away at Eton when she wrote that. “I’m not questioning your feelings for me.”
She flipped forward, interrupting him. “February second, year of our Lord eighteen hundred and thirty-six. Dear Diary, Why am I so selfish? I shouldn’t want Nicholas for myself. If he could marry one of us—which he can’t—it should be Julia, but I can’t stop imagining it. I think of him always.”
Nicholas couldn’t breathe. She’d written that about him when she was fourteen? She had felt that way about him then?
More furious page flipping. “June twentieth, year of our Lord eighteen hundred and thirty-six. Dear Diary, I hate the Wakefield’s new dairy maid. She seems quite boring, and Nicholas pays her far more attention than she deserves. I also hate Nicholas. He is stupid.”
He couldn’t help it—he laughed. All this trouble over a ridiculous comment about a dairy maid’s eyes.
“I have loved you for a very long time,�
� Amelia told him. “But first I didn’t think you wanted me, and then—I can’t lose Julia, Nick. I can’t have a marriage that takes me away from her. You know how important we are to each other. But I do want to marry you. Since long before I ever heard Lord Montrose’s name.”
For a moment, Nick didn’t say anything. He just wanted to sit in the feeling for a moment. She loved him—possibly as long as he’d loved her. She wanted to marry him.
They were going to be married. Imminently, if they could manage it. The corners of his mouth crept up on their own, impossible to repress.
“I would never dream of trying to separate you from Julia.” He reached for her hand, running his thumb across the lines of her palm. “So since I don’t have a special license to marry you here, I guess we should go to Scotland.”
Amelia grinned, nodding. “The first train leaves at nine in the morning.”
He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her. Soon, he’d be able to do it as often as he liked. Amelia was going to be his wife.
“The thing is,” she said, kissing him back between words. “We can’t stay here. Embry knows about us and once they realize I’m gone it’s the first place they’ll look.”
Right. They had to keep her out of Montrose’s clutches until they could get on the train.
“Jasper’s isn’t safe, either. That will be the second place he’ll look. And I don’t know who else I could call on.”
Nicholas had a sudden bolt of inspiration. If he was right, it was guaranteed to keep Amelia safe. If he was wrong, they’d throw him in the tower for sure. “I have an idea.”
“Are you going to share it?”
“I think you’d rather I didn’t.”
Amelia looked up at the towering facade. “Who lives here?”
“Jasper’s grandparents.”
She reached up into her hairline, but the familiar bump of his seal wasn’t there. She’d given it back to Nicholas. This was exactly how Amelia imagined a duke’s house would look. The Bishops had never been invited to visit a duke, so she had only her imagination to go on.
Now she was knocking on one’s door in the middle of the night. She tried not to faint on the spot.
When the door opened, Nicholas did the talking. “I apologize for the late hour. Is Lady Ruby at home?”
The Importance of Being Scandalous Page 24