Now that you have compromised me. Lord, how could she have been so foolish? What if he insisted she marry him? No, she would not consider the possibility. She shook her head. He would not make such a demand.
She gazed at her image in the looking glass. “Amelia Cosgrove, you will marry Lord Roseington. There is not a thing his grace, the insufferable Duke of Goldstone, can do about it.” She grinned at her reflection. After all, she remained determined. And with Grace, as well as Sarah, on her side she did not see how she could fail. Surely by this time next week she would be engaged to Lord Roseington. Richard would become nothing more than an unpleasant memory. Amelia nibbled her lower lip. Richard.
SCANDALOUS ENDEAVORS
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amelia set her cross-stitching aside, stood, and stretched her fingers. She could not tolerate much more of this isolation. Thank God Sarah planned to come for tea today; she needed human interaction. Glancing out the window, nature’s awe-inspiring display tugged at her heart. She retrieved her shawl and parasol, then wandered out into the magnificent sunshine.
The fresh morning air wrapped her in its divine warmth. Breathing deeply, she allowed it to wash over her. Being out in nature liberated her spirit. She felt lighthearted and hopeful as she traipsed merrily along the path. Her eyes landed on the ornate stone fountain and traveled up to the lover’s embrace. Memories of the duke flooded her mind, causing tingles to radiate through her core. Closing her eyes, she relived the moment their lips touched for the first time. His pressed gently against hers...scandalous sensations coursed through her body...then, nothing. He pulled away, leaving her embarrassed.
Startled by the sound of footsteps, she opened her eyes and spun to gaze over her shoulder. “Duchess.” Amelia smiled with both pleasure and relief at the sight of her friend. A sigh of respite escaped her lips. She was grateful it was not the duke standing before her.
“My apologies, dear. It was not my intention to sneak up on you.” Grace twirled her parasol. “We have not had much time to visit these last several days. When I saw you head out, it seemed the perfect opportunity to join you.”
Amelia smiled. “I am pleased you did. I have missed your companionship.” She nodded at the path. “Shall we walk? And do tell me what you have been up to these last few days.” They turned and followed the path to their left.
“Yes indeed. It is a perfect day for walking, and I have much to relay.”
Amelia nodded. “I want to hear every morsel. Do not exclude a thing. The tiniest detail is exciting to one who has not experienced it.”
Amelia took in the scenery as they continued along the path. Her gaze roomed over the statues and fountains they passed.
“Well, as you know, I attended the Marchioness’s soirée and a ball at the royal court. Then there was a dinner at the Duke of Hallow’s.”
“What did the queen wear? Was she draped in jewels?” Amelia’s cheeks warmed at her own forwardness.
“Indeed, pearls and rubies both. Her gown was gold brocade and ruby silk. She appeared every inch a royal, as she rightly must.”
“I know it is wrong of me to say, but I wish I had been present. I am weary of being excluded in the name of propriety. Do forgive my wickedness.” She sighed.
“You are not wicked, Amelia, just young and wild-natured.” The duchess winked at her. “I would not see you changed. As for propriety, you must adhere to society’s rules, or you would be excluded all the same.”
Amelia slanted her gaze toward the duchess. “All the same, I will be elated when these drab gowns meet the fire burning in my hearth.”
Grace placed her hand gently on Amelia’s shoulder. “In due time, dear.”
“It is true, I miss Papa terribly. I just do not believe I must wear these awful gowns to show it,” Amelia replied.
“Of course not, dear. Why, I still mourn my late husband, but am happy not to be in widow’s weeds. Do not feel bad for wanting to live.” Grace removed her hand from Amelia’s shoulder.
Amelia allowed the scenery and sounds of nature to consume her as they continued along.
They veered onto a new path, and Grace said, “Are you ready to try your plan again at tomorrow’s dinner party?”
“Yes, and I am certain it will lead to an engagement this time.” Amelia scowled. “So long as the Duke of Goldstone stays out of my way.”
“Please do not be cross with him. I am sure he intended to protect you.” The duchess grinned.
“Of course he did. How could he have thought otherwise? I will not mention it again.”
She would never forgive the blackguard for what he had done. Not only did he ruin her plan, but more important, he had cast her aside.
Grace stopped suddenly, “Do you hear that?”
“Yes indeed. It is beautiful.”
“That is the song of a meadow pipit.” She turned her head and searched the surrounding landscape, and then pointed her finger toward the left. “See, there it is.”
Amelia’s eyes followed her direction. “What a marvelous creature.”
“Meadow pipits are my favorite. That one appears to be searching for lunch.” Grace dropped her arm to her side.
“Speaking of such, we had better be getting back. Lady Sarah will be arriving for tea shortly.”
“You are quite right. We must not linger.”
Amelia enjoyed the fresh air and scenery as they made their way back to the house. Memories the kiss she shared with the duke, and the pressing need to trap Lord Roseington, consumed her. She hated that the duke remained on her mind.
Amelia handed her parasol to the butler when she entered. Grace did the same. “Your Grace, Lady Sarah’s waiting in the drawing room.”
“Thank you, Desmond. That’ll be all.” Grace dismissed him with the wave of a hand.
Amelia entered the room and seated herself across from Sarah. “I am so glad to see you; you look wonderful. Has it truly only been four days? It seems like forever.”
Amelia missed her daily teas with Sarah. Their families’ country estates were situated in close proximity, and their townhouses directly across from one another.
“It certainly does seem as though it has been a long time,” Sarah replied.
Grace chuckled. “Welcome, Lady Sarah. I am pleased you could join us.”
“I would be hard-pressed to turn down the invitation of a duchess.” Sarah smirked mischievously.
“Indeed you would; though I hope you are fonder of me than of my title,” Grace said, taking the winged chair next to Amelia. She reached out to the teacart and retrieved a cup, then motioned for Sarah and Amelia to do the same.
“Titles mean little if the people behind them are not worthy,” Sarah admonished as she lifted her cup.
“This tea is divine,” Amelia said.
Grace smiled. “It came from the Orient. A gift from my nephew. He is always so thoughtful.”
Amelia set her cup back on the silver tray and directed her gaze toward Sarah. “What kept you away so long?” She tilted her head and awaited Sarah’s response, desperately needing to change the subject of their conversation.
“Nothing too important, just meeting my social obligations. You understand.” Her eyes sparkled and the corners of her lips curled up. “The season has been busy thus far.”
Grace agreed. “Indeed it has. Last night’s ball...”
Amelia sank back in her chair feeling invisible. She wanted to throw propriety out the window, burn her mourning garb, and don an elegant gown. Why must she continue to mourn when she no longer wished to? It would not bring Papa back, nor was it what he had wanted for her.
* * * *
Richard’s heart squeezed at the sight of Lady Amelia halfway up the library ladder with her arms outstretched. She wobbled unsteadily and he rushed to her side as she lost her footing. Her hands flailed wildly as she descended toward the ground. Heart pounding, he reached out his arms in hopes of catching her. With a light thud, her soft body came to a rest cradled
close to his chest, her head resting against his forearm. “Open your eyes, Amelia. Are you hurt?”
She inhaled deeply, and opened her eyes on exhale.
His blood heated with desire when their gazes met.
“Please, do put me down. I am perfectly fine.”
He held her tighter. “What were you doing up there like that? And all alone?” She could have broken her leg, or worse, her neck.
“It is none of your concern. Put me down.”
Did she not see how foolish her actions were? “As long as we are under the same roof, you are my concern.”
Her eye-color seemed to deepen as his pulse sped up. He brought his lips down on hers, firm and demanding. Amelia returned the kiss fervently, draping her arms over his muscular shoulders. He laid her upon the nearby chaise before meeting her gaze again. The desire reflecting back at him stole any resolve he had. He entwined his fingers in her hair at the base of her neck as he lowered his head to her flesh. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He trailed kisses across her silky skin, down her neck and toward the mound of her breasts.
Her body moved with a heathen rhythm beneath him, sending his blood straight to his groin as he came over her. He moved to cup her full breast, kneading it in his palm. She whimpered, and pulled him still closer.
“Do not stop,” Amelia begged breathlessly.
Her words shot through him and he pulled away. What was he doing? For all he knew she was an innocent. Or she could be out to trap a duke. He had yet to discover her game. His heart squeezed at the notion. He could easily lose his heart to her. He already cared for her despite his desire not to. What if she was no different from Lady Ophelia? She reached for him and he stormed out of the library, leaving her to stare after him with confusion filling her eyes.
SCANDALOUS ENDEAVORS
CHAPTER NINE
Amelia stood by the entrance to the duchess’s townhouse, prepared to help receive guests. Being included in the ton once again was splendid, even if it was only due to her circumstances. Society rules allowed for her to attend the dinner party since she remained in residence and under the duchess’s chaperonage. Unfortunately, the Duke of Goldstone was also part of the receiving line. Knowing he stood so close caused a strange flutter in her belly. She pushed the thoughts away. Tonight she had more important things to occupy her mind.
Carriage wheels ground to a stop in front of Abernathy House, announcing the first guest’s arrival. She fixed a pleasant smile upon her lips and smoothed her skirts one more time.
“Are you ready for this, dear?” Grace asked.
“It seems I have to be.”
“And you, Richard?” Grace beamed at her nephew.
Amelia glanced in his direction before she could stop herself, and their gazes locked.
“There is nowhere I would rather be.”
He said it as though the words were meant only for her. Heat rose across Amelia’s chest and inched up onto her cheeks. The dastardly duke grinned charmingly, then winked before she tore her stare from his.
The Marquess and Marchioness of Havenshire entered the townhouse, followed by Lady Sarah and Lord Roseington. Several other fashionable lords and ladies filed in behind the Marquess’s family. She could not help thinking she must appear positively frightful to them clad in her mourning garb, like an apparition here to suck all the life from the party. Forcing a weak smile back onto her face, she curtsied, greeting the guests one by one, but her heart was not in it.
With all of the guests properly received, Grace and the duke joined them in the parlor. Amelia desired to get away from his grace and the other guests so she could regain her focus. She could not afford to be distracted tonight. The plan must be her top priority. With Grace’s permission, she returned to her room with a feigned headache. She needed to regroup before mealtime.
Headache indeed, more like body ache. She had to find a way to avoid the duke. How could her body want a man whom her mind despised? It made no sense at all. Perhaps she was fooling herself. What if she did fancy him? It mattered not--he was from Scotland, and she was in need of an English husband. Besides, he made it clear he did not care for her. Not in a romantic way. If he did, he would not have cast her aside so easily. He would not have left her wanting more without so much as a word spoken from his rakish mouth.
Lying back on her bed, she closed her eyes. Lord please let everything work out. Soon, it would be time to rejoin the party, and shortly thereafter she would again attempt to compromise herself with Lord Roseington.
She got out of bed and sauntered to the vanity. The soft carpet padded her steps. Sitting down, Amelia studied her reflection. She had become ghastly pale and strands of hair dangled out of her chignon. Masterfully, she tucked the tresses back into place and pinched some color into her cheeks.
If not for the dreadful mourning garb, she would be attractive. Perhaps the drab gowns were what sent the duke running from her? She moved her hand to her chest and danced her fingers across the crape lining her collar. The dress would be more bearable to wear without the depressing embellishment. With a tight grasp she pulled until it ripped free from the gown. Her door opened and she jumped from the seat, dropping the crape in the process.
“My Lady, her grace sent me to retrieve you for meal time,” Edna said, eyeing her in a suspicious way. “What folly have you engaged in?”
“Nothing is amiss, Edna. I simply fixed my hair after taking a little rest. I am ready now.”
“Good heavens child, what happened to your gown?”
Amelia drew her brows together as she studied her ladies maid. “I have removed the crape is all. It’s time I go without it.”
“You will do no such thing. It is not proper. You have not been in mourning long enough to remove it.” Edna pulled a fresh gown from her wardrobe. “Come, let’s get you changed.”
Amelia’s face flushed. “I will do no such thing.” She fled the room, leaving Edna to stare after her. She did not care what anyone thought. Another crape-trimmed gown would not grace her body for as long as she lived. It proved to be as uncomfortable as it was hideous, and made everyone gaze at her with expectant stares. They all waited for her to come apart and make a spectacle. Just as they had at Papa’s funeral. She would stand for it no longer. Her grief belonged to her, not the ton.
She sailed into the dining hall without pause, and took her seat to the right of Grace. Exhaling a deep breath, her gaze caught the dukes. Of course, he would be seated across from her on Grace’s left; she should have foreseen it. Could this night get any more difficult? She forced a mask of delight onto her face and nodded a greeting. He winked, sending her body into turmoil. Heat crept across her face as she tore her eyes from his. Why did he keep doing such salacious things when he clearly did not want her?
“Have you recovered, dear?” Grace asked.
“Indeed I have, thank you, Duchess.” Amelia smiled at her. “It is a small blessing as I would have detested missing such a sumptuous meal.”
A chorus of laughter filled the room as servers set out the first course. She hadn’t embellished. The food did appear splendid. Unfortunately, she could hardly stomach a bite. If the duke’s scandalous staring were not unsettling enough, she also had the knowledge and all that came with it of what she would soon be doing.
The meal passed by, and despite her discomfort, she managed to find some enjoyment in small talk. All the same, she took delight in seeing it end. She wished to get on with her plan. Failure was not an option. She needed to get Lord Roseington alone and place herself within his arms for the guests to see.
Amelia went with the ladies into the drawing room while the duke took the men to the smoking room for drinks and cigars. She had no desire to waste precious time listening to the ladies exchange gossip. Alas, she plastered on a fake smile and nodded politely as the conversation ensued.
“Amelia, you look positively exhausted.” Lady Sarah smirked mischievously.
“I am afraid t
he party has been a mite too exciting for me.” She glanced at the ladies near them. “Perhaps I should bid my adieu.”
“Indeed you should. The last thing any of us wants is to have you fall ill from exhaustion.”
Lady Beatrice added, “You poor dear, it is no wonder you would be worn down. Why just to think about what you have been through these last months. It is a wonder you are holding up so well.”
“It has been a trial. Please excuse me, ladies.” Amelia curtsied before she took her leave.
* * * *
Crouching behind an ornate hand-carved bench in the entryway, Amelia watched for Lord Roseington to exit the smoking room. She had to steer him into a vacant room, throw herself into his arms, and make a great racket.
What if he did not come out alone? She had not considered the possibility. Her heart rate soared. She was running out of time. Failing again was not an option.
Raised voices attracted her scrutiny. They carried to her from the smoking room, but she could not make out what was being said. Then the door swung open and Lord Roseington exited the room. Alone.
She held her breath as she watched to make sure no one followed him. After a moment confidence swelled within her and she emerged from her hiding place. She straightened to her full height, and stretched her stiff muscles. With a shudder of anxiety she stepped out into the hall, and crept stealthily after Lord Roseington.
Near enough to touch him, she reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him into the library.
“What are you doing, Amelia?”
Good question. How should she answer it? Think, think, think!
“I simply must talk to you, Lord Roseington.” She bowed her head and hoped the correct words would come to her.
“Well, you have my attention, please go on.” He gazed at her encouragingly.
She turned, walking toward the hearth, trying to find her words. The fire dancing within it sparked an idea. She turned back to him with forced tears in her eyes.
Scandalous Endeavors (Ladies and Scoundrels Book 1) Page 6