The Importance of Being Scandalous

by Kimberly Bell

  Meanwhile, Lord Bishop pulled Amelia to the side. “Montrose and your mother said you’d been taken.”

  Amelia shook her head. The creases in his brow choked her up. He must have been so worried.

  “Was it like Julia said? Did your mother lock you up?”

  “Yes.” She hated to tell him the truth, because of the way his face fell when she said it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have done more when you told me.”

  “It’s all right. Everything has turned out for the best.”

  “You’re happy, then?” he asked.

  “I truly am.”

  “Then so am I.” Lord Bishop turned to the crowd in his driveway, bellowing for everyone to kindly shut the hell up. When it had been accomplished, he sent everyone back inside.

  Everyone except for Montrose.

  “It appears you attempted to abscond with my daughter,” Lord Bishop accused.

  “For her own good,” Montrose argued. He looked weak to her now, grasping at justifications for his behavior.

  “Well, for your own good, kindly remove yourself from my property and see that you don’t find your way back.”

  “You’ll be receiving my breech of promise suit post haste,” Embry promised.

  “When you do,” Nicholas interjected, “please let me know. Lord Melton, Viscount Bellamy, and the Duke of Albemarle would all like to contribute statements regarding Lord Montrose’s reprehensible behavior and potentially unstable mental state.”

  Amelia loved him more than ever just then. Friends. She—and by extension, her family—had friends. Powerful ones. They would not be bullied by the likes of Embry.

  The front door opened again, and Julia stepped out holding the pink sapphire necklace Embry had given Amelia.

  “Lord Montrose. Before you go.” She flung it at his chest. “I believe that belongs to you. Next time, find a woman more suited to it.”

  Her ex-fiancé left in an indignant huff and his constable followed him with a much more dignified apology.

  That left only herself, Nicholas, Julia, and Lord Bishop in the drive.

  Her father nodded. “All right. Now that’s settled, I’d like to speak with Lady Bishop and Amelia in private, if you don’t mind me stealing my daughter back for a moment, Wakefield.”

  “Amelia?” Nick looked to her, asking what she wanted.

  How could she ever have doubted Nicholas would make a perfect husband for her? She kissed his cheek and nodded her assent.

  “Take all the time you need,” Julia said. “Nicholas and I have a great deal to catch up on.”

  “She looked like an angel. Her hair was up and she had this crooked little smile.” Nick sat on the parlor settee, recounting his wedding to Julia. He had always taken criticism for his romantic notions, especially from the eldest Bishop daughter, but for once they were not at odds. She wanted to hear every sappy, sentimental detail as much as Nicholas was bursting to share them with someone.

  “Up how?”

  “Like a loose bouquet of flowers collected at her neck.”

  Julia sighed, flinging herself across the arm of the settee in dramatic bliss. “Was she carrying flowers?”

  “Heather and thistle.”

  Her mouth pursed in distaste. Nicholas lobbed an embroidered pillow at her. “We were making do with what we had, and it actually looked quite lovely with the ivory.”

  “I suppose. Purples do suit her,” Julia conceded.

  “How kind of you to say so,” Amelia interrupted from the doorway.

  His wife looked decidedly un-distressed—calm, even. Nick gave an internal sigh of relief. He knew how much it meant for her to be in accord with her family.

  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Never.” Amelia turned to him with a glittering smile. “Papa would like to speak to you.”

  “Am I to be drawn and quartered?” Nick was only half joking. Amelia might be in accord with her parents, but Nicholas was the man who had spirited her off to the border without any word and married her without Lord Bishop’s blessing.

  “I think he’d like to offer you thanks and congratulations, and since you are men, it obviously must be done over whiskey.”

  “Obviously,” Julia echoed.

  Well, that was the sort of speaking to Nicholas could get behind. He stood up. “You’re all right?”

  “Better than.” Amelia stretched up to kiss his cheek.

  Nicholas left the room with a grin on his face. He could definitely get used to being kissed by her in public.

  The door to the study was open, so Nicholas let himself in. He’d only ever been in this room once, when he and the girls had snuck in to go through the desk drawers as part of an imaginary treasure hunt. It was an altogether different feeling entering it now as Amelia’s husband, although he still had the lingering fear that he was going to be shouted at and told he wasn’t allowed.

  Instead Lord Bishop greeted him with three fingers of amber whiskey, exactly as his daughters had predicted.

  “Lord Bishop.”

  “Nicholas. I understand congratulations are in order.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” Nicholas said, clinking glasses with his father-in-law.

  “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve always thought of you as part of the family.”

  He’d known that, but it warmed him to have it said under these circumstances. “I know I’ve caused you trouble, with the lawsuit and Montrose.”

  Lord Bishop waved the thought away like so much dust in the air. “My daughters are happy. That means I am happy.”

  Nicholas smiled. It seemed he was forever smiling now. When he and Amelia had children of their own, he intended to adopt the same philosophy.

  “Well, enough about the past,” the older man said. “Let’s talk about the future.”

  Dread welled up in Nicholas. This was the part where he had to admit to a man he respected that he’d married his daughter with the barest ability to provide for her.

  “Mia tells me you’re planning to become a barrister?”

  “I am. It will take some time, but my brother has hopes of a seat in Commons for me.”

  Lord Bishop nodded in agreement. “I bought an estate near ours for Amelia and Montrose so the girls could still see each other. It was supposed to be a wedding gift. That will obviously go to you instead.”

  An estate? Nick wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

  “And Amelia said she means to stay in London with you while you study, so I’m sure we can find something for you close to your Inn that will please her.”

  “Sir, that’s…”

  “Then, of course, there’s her bride settlement. With no sons, Amelia and Julia are each entitled to half of everything I have.”

  “Sir.” Nicholas held up a hand. He had to slow the barrage of gifts long enough to think straight. “That’s extremely generous. Too generous.”

  “Wakefield.” Lord Bishop stared at him across the table and for the first time, Nick saw a hint of the steel that had served the man so well in business. “When my daughter is happy, I am happy.”

  “But—”

  “If I cannot make my daughters happy, what is the point of it all?”

  Apparently, there were more than a few philosophies to be gained from Lord Bishop.

  Amelia was in her room—maybe for the last time. Lady Bishop was being sent to stay in a cottage they owned in Wales, far away from anything even closely resembling society. In time, Amelia hoped her parents would reconcile, but her father was not currently in the mood to be forgiving. The staff would pack up Amelia’s belongings and send them to the new house once they’d seen Lady Bishop on her way, but for now Amelia was deciding what she would need in the short-term. Papa had suggested they stay with him and Julia, but Amelia had declined. If she’d learned anything over the last few days, it was that she was not a quiet lover. She didn’t feel compelled to share that revelation with her father, nor did she intend to keep her
hands off Nick for a moment longer than necessary.

  “If you could see your face right now.” Julia lounged on Amelia’s bed, nosy as ever.

  Amelia was going to miss that most of all. “I don’t need to, thank you.”

  “I take it Nick is riddling you with tingly feelings.”

  Her face flamed pink. “He is.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m glad. One of us ought to be having tingles.”

  “You’ll have them, too, someday soon.”

  Julia rolled her eyes.

  “You will,” Amelia insisted. “I intend to see to it.”

  “Rubbish. You’re going to be quite busy discovering what it’s like to be a wife. You won’t have time to try to achieve impossible miracles.”

  “Nicholas is shaping up to be a very accommodating husband. I expect I’ll have plenty of time.”

  “I hope so.” Julia’s tone turned serious. “I’m still not ready to lose you, Mia.”

  Amelia brought the case she was sorting through with her when she joined Julia on the bed. “You’re not losing me.”

  “I am a little.”

  “Just a little, though. Did Papa tell you he gave us an estate?”

  “Of course,” Julia scoffed. “Who do you think picked it out?”

  “I suppose you already have a room for yourself.”

  “My summer palace. It’s already been decorated.”

  Amelia laughed, falling back on the pillows. “I should have known. So much for having a home of my own.”

  “Silly Mia. Thinking a measly marriage could set you free of me.” Julia fell back with her.

  Amelia wrapped her arms around her sister. “Silly me.”

  Nicholas arrived in the doorway and gasped. “I’m being replaced already.”

  “I was here first,” Julia announced imperiously.

  “As if I could forget.” Nicholas flopped down next to Amelia.

  “Do you remember these?” Amelia asked, lifting a handful of marbles out of the case.

  “Of course I do.”

  “I knew he was in love with you the moment he gave you those,” Julia said. “They were his favorite thing in all the world.”

  “Not quite.” The look he gave Amelia was not subtle.

  Julia snorted. “And I knew you were in love with him when you kept those grubby things.”

  Amelia blushed. “They’re delightful!”

  “They’re not. They’re ridiculous. You’re both ridiculous.” Julia sighed. “Someone say something nice about me so I don’t suffer a crisis of confidence in the face of all this newlywed bliss.”

  It was exactly like when they were children, sprawled out, talking about their dreams in the hayloft. Amelia felt overwhelmingly blessed. She turned to her sister. “We did it, Jules. I’m so happy.”

  Next to her, Nick grumbled. “I don’t suppose I get credit for any of that.”

  Amelia turned back to him, threading her fingers through his. “Maybe just a little.”

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my agent Rachel Brooks for snatching me out of the crowd and believing in me. Thank you to my editor Kate Brauning for making this book so much better than when I handed it to her. Thank you to Entangled Publishing for believing this story ought to be told.

  Thank you to my brother, Mark, who supported me both morally and financially when I quit my self-sustaining job to pursue a career without pants. Thank you to the rest of my family for reading every book with enthusiasm and telling me they’re good (and even meaning it). Thank you to Lindsay, for doing more things than I could possibly list on this page.

  Thank you to the members of #RWCHAT for injecting me with sanity and a much needed laugh every Sunday afternoon. Thank you to Chelsea, Robin, and Alexis for being the best writing partners I could ever ask for.

  Thank you to Sebastian, Henry, Jason, and both Jameses. You fed me. You encouraged me. And you watched me pace around with mad scientist hair without any discernible judgment.

  Oh, and thank you to the lemur.

  About the Author

  Kimberly Bell is a historical romance author and the cofounder of #RWCHAT, a twitter chat for romance writers. Kimberly splits her time between the mountains of South Lake Tahoe and the coastal paradise of San Luis Obispo, California—tromping around with her dogs through forests and beaches without favoritism. She loves cheeseburgers, spreadsheets, and apparently being wildly inappropriate at exactly the wrong time.

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