“It is just...”
Frowning, he moved closer to her. She lowered her head, focusing on sad things--visions flooded her mind, causing the tears to flow more freely. Lord Roseington reached out, placing his hand under her chin and guided her head up. They stared into each other’s eyes. She found herself wishing she gazed into the Duke of Goldstone’s sapphire ones instead.
“My dear, Lady Amelia, please do not cry. I have little idea what to do with a weeping woman.” The corner of his lips tilted up in a lopsided grin.
She directed her gaze toward the floor and wept more loudly. “I am so lonely and scared. I do not know what to do anymore. I feel so lost. How will I go on without Papa? What will become of me? I have no one.” She got the words out in between sobs. The honesty behind them increased her sobs and a lump formed in her throat.
“Surely it is not as bad as all that. You have your uncle, the duchess, and Lady Sarah, as well as countless other friends.” He smiled and removed his hand from under her chin. “Let me go fetch the duchess or Lady Sarah for you. It is not proper for me to be alone with you, and I truly am not equipped to assist you.”
She panicked as he turned to leave and did the only thing that came to mind, backing close enough to the fireplace for the flames to catch her skirts. “I am on fire!” she yelled as she spun around.
Lord Roseington rushed to her side, grabbing a pillow from the chaise as he ran past it. He dropped to his knees, and began swatting at the flames as she feigned panic in hopes of drawing a crowd. When she saw the last bit of flame disappear, she crumpled, landing solidly on his bent knees, sending them both to the floor. She flung her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. “You saved me. I was so frightened. Thank you.” She enunciated every word in as loud a tone as she could muster.
Lord Roseington wrapped his arms around her and stood up, setting her on her feet. “Everything is okay now.” He reached up and removed her arms from around him, then took a step back. “We must stop winding up in these situations before we cause a scandal.”
She looked at him through hooded eyes. “It is a wonder we have not already.”
A man cleared his voice behind her, causing her heart to skip a bet. The duke! “Your Grace, you must not trouble yourself with keeping our secret.”
“What she means to say is there is no secret to be kept. She carelessly got close enough to the hearth to catch her skirts ablaze. I could not very well let her burn.”
“No, Roseington, you were obliged to help. I am glad to know you were not taking advantage of our dear Lady Amelia.” He glanced at her and flashed a rakish smirk. “Indeed, you are a hero. Let us go share the story while she changes her charred gown.”
She peered at him as she fought the urge to strike him. His grin only deepened, increasing her ire. “Don’t you dare tell a soul. I would most definitely perish from the embarrassment.” Amelia spat the words out with anger and annoyance. How dare he ruin everything for a second time, and then jest about sharing her humiliation. If he were not Scottish, she would trap him instead. That would teach him a lesson.
“Do not worry your head over it, Lady Amelia. We will not breathe a word of this little mishap. Right, Goldstone?” Lord Roseington said.
“Of course not. All of your secrets are safe with me.” The duke winked.
She blushed at what he implied. “Thank you. Now that it is settled I am going to retire for the evening. Enjoy the rest of the party. Lord Roseington, Your Grace.” She inclined her head to them before speeding from the room. The duke’s laughter chased her down the hall as she fled. So glad to have amused you, Your Grace!
* * * *
After leaving Roseington in the gaming room, Richard sought out his aunt. He failed to find her in the parlor, or anywhere else that guests roamed. She must have gone to check on Lady Amelia. He turned toward the stairs leading to the bedchambers above.
The idea of Lady Amelia and Roseington being lovers nagged at the back of his mind as he climbed them, his hand skimming the banister. Her reaction to him in the library played through his thoughts. She had behaved like an experienced woman, but her gaze held the look of an innocent.
Perhaps if she were involved in a romantic assignation with Roseington he could get her off his mind. The last thing he desired was the complications brought by a woman. All the same he longed to make her his. Her behavior intrigued him as much as her beautiful face. One moment she was offering herself up to him, and the next ordering him away or peering at him in anger. He still believed her to be playing some sort of game. She had to be, nothing else made sense. But what was it and why? He had to know.
Before he could announce his presence outside of Lady Amelia’s room her sweet voice drifted into the hall.
“He ruined my plan again. What am I to do now?”
“There is nothing for it but to try again or give into your uncle’s wishes.” Aunt Grace answered her.
“I will never go to America. I cannot.”
His gut knotted. He had heard enough to know she was attempting to snare Roseington. He fought the urge to enter her room as he listed to the ladies.
“Perhaps the plan keeps failing because you are meant for another.”
Disdain dripped from Lady Amelia’s voice. “I would never marry an American. Only an English lord will do for me.”
He left the way he had come with a new found heaviness to his heart. Lady Amelia was no better than all those husband hunting mamas and scheming debutante’s back in Scotland. It was for the best he found out. Now he could be done with her for he would never become involved with another lady like Ophelia.
SCANDALOUS ENDEAVORS
CHAPTER TEN
Amelia turned down her lantern and settled onto her down mattress. Closing her eyes, she prayed for sleep to rescue her from the reality she found herself trapped in. When she dreamed, the mourning garb disappeared, she no longer required a fast wedding, and most importantly, Papa often appeared there with her. Amelia’s gowns draped her in color, and the weeping veil remained ever absent as she interacted with her peers. Last night, she dreamed she danced at a ball in the arms of a masculine stranger. His face stayed a mystery, but she felt safe in his arms. She hoped the dream would return to comfort her this eve.
A creak sounded outside of the bedroom door and she turned her head toward the noise. Who could be out there? Her heart skipped a beat as the door opened to reveal the Duke of Goldstone filling the entry. His features appeared stern in the illumination from the hearth’s fire. She slammed her eyes shut and hoped he would just leave. What in Hades was he doing coming into her room? Why was he not at the ball? She closed her eyes and remained still, hoping he would think she slept.
“Amelia, open your eyes.” His voice vibrated through her, smooth and strong.
She fought the urge to comply with his demand.
“If you do not open your eyes this minute, I swear I will pull you right out of that bed, lass.”
Lord, help her, but a shiver of excitement raced clear through to her toes. Powerless to stop herself, she opened her eyes. He stood over her, a deep scowl ensconced upon his face. What reason did he have to be cross with her? After all it was he who had miss treated her, not the other way around. “What are you doing in my room?”
“I know all about your scheme.”
She sat up, anger heating her blood. “What I choose to do is none of your business. You have no right to trifle in my affairs. Get out of my room.”
“I will go, but you had better get dressed and make your appearance downstairs. You have five minutes to show yourself before I come back to retrieve you.” He turned and stomped out of her room; the door slammed behind him, its sound reverberating through her.
What in Heaven’s name would she do now? She did not even know for sure what he alluded to knowing. It must be her plans to wed, but how could he have discovered them? She pushed the blankets down and started to get up before her mind changed, and she lay back
down. He would not dare come back. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it back over herself. He could not know anything. Suspect, perhaps, but he had no evidence. He just wanted to trick her into admitting her plans. She would not play his game.
Her hands shook as she turned onto her left side and tucked the blanket under her cheek. What if he did know? Had he told Lord Roseington of her intentions at tonight’s ball? Her life would be in shambles. All of her planning would have been for naught. As it stood, she had little idea how she would ensnare Lord Roseington, or any English lord for that matter. She would not worry over it now. Drawing in a deep breath, she snuggled back against her mattress.
The only thing she knew for certain was that she would not get out of the bed and go downstairs. She would not give His Grace the pleasure of bossing her around, nor would she tell him her plan. It did not concern him. She was going back to sleep, and he could rot for all she cared. Reaching out to the bedside table, she retrieved the novel resting there and placed it next to her on the bed. If he dared to return, she would have a surprise for him.
Just as the fringes of sleep tickled her, the door swung open. Grabbing the novel, she flung it with all her might in the duke’s direction. “I told you to stay out!”
He sidestepped the attack, continuing to head straight toward her. “And I told you to show yourself downstairs.” He reached for the lantern, and in a moment’s time, it illuminated the room casting shadows on the walls. “Get out of that bed and put on your wrapper.”
“I will do no such thing. If you do not leave this instant, I am going to scream.” She clutched the blanket to her chest.
“You can scream all you want, lass. I am not leaving. Get out of that bed, or I am getting in.” His lips curved into a devilish grin.
He ran from her every time they touched. There was no way he would get in her bed. “I am done entertaining you. Get in or get out.” She enunciated the words with added force as she pulled back the blanket in a false invitation.
He advanced. “As you wish, my dear Amelia.”
Oh Lord! He crossed what remained of the chamber and climbed into the bed. Lying on his side, he propped himself up on one elbow. His muscles clearly visible through his thin white shirt begged her to touch them. She bit her lower lip as she felt a blush engulf her cheeks. Why did she blush so easily around him? The now-familiar throbbing at the apex of her thighs took hold, and she admitted to herself that Richard was most welcome in her bed.
“My eyes are up here.”
His voice sounded different, deeper, gravelly. Her body pulsated at the unexpected sound. A shiver of delight over took her as she directed her gaze up to meet his, admiring every muscled inch of him along the way. When at last their gazes locked, she offered a grin. “I know perfectly well where your eyes are.”
His gaze softened as he reached out to her, pulling her into his embrace. Amelia angled her head in preparation for his kiss as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Their lips connected with fervor and passion, as if neither of them could get enough, each starved for the other.
Her hand slid down his chest toward his navel. His muscles tensed below her touch, and his breathing deepened as she brazenly continued lower. Richard broke away from her lips and began trailing kisses across her cheek, then down her neck. Warm sensations tickled her skin with his touch.
A murmur escaped his lips as her hand rubbed over his engorged shaft. Amelia curled her fingers around its contour. Wickedness took hold, all things proper fleeing her mind. “I want you.” Her words were soft and pleading. She did not even quite know what she wanted, but she knew he did. He must know how to satisfy her body’s needs. After all, it was he who created them.
He pushed her away and jumped from the bed. “You have no idea what you ask for.” He turned his back to her and ran a hand through his disheveled onyx locks.
“I know I want you to finish what you started when you climbed into my bed.” The husky sound of her voice surprised her. She sat up, allowing the blanket to drape around her waist. “Look at me, Richard.”
He stopped at her door, but did not turn around to face her. “Lord Roseington announced his engagement tonight.”
Ice formed in her veins. She leaped from the bed with fisted hands. “You are lying. Get out of my room this instant,” she screamed. “Stay away from me and mind your own affairs.”
“You are my affair, lass, and you will explain,” he yelled as he turned to face her.
“Get out, get out. I will not tell you anything, so just get out!” She reached for the vase near her bed. With all of her fury she flung it at the wall.
He walked out of her room, slamming the door in his wake.
* * * *
Richard paced the length of the balcony, his head pounding. The woman had bewitched him. There could be no other explanation for his behavior. When he entered Amelia’s chamber he wanted to throttle her. Yet, when she challenged him, he forgot his purpose entirely. Her touch muddled his mind. The urge to hold her, touch her, went against all reason. Why was he so powerless to resist?
He had lusted after many women in his lifetime, but none had captivated him so completely. Never had he found one he could not turn away from. Hell, before her, he never had turned away. He took what he wanted and when the affairs grew tedious, he broke the arrangements. “Bloody hell.” Amelia was no affair, she was an innocent. He could not give into his desire for her, even if she wanted him too. Lord knew he wanted to, but he crossed the line at virgins.
The flicker of a lantern drew his attention, and he turned toward it.
“Your Grace, an urgent correspondence.” The footman held out a tray.
“Very well.” Richard took the envelope and entered the house in search of a letter opener. Having found one, he unfolded the letter and read its words. His heart clenched as he crumbled the letter in his fist. There had been an accident at his shipping yard. Several of his workers were injured or killed. He needed to return to Scotland post haste.
Aunt Grace would understand the necessity. He mounted the stairs intent on preparing for his journey. What of Lady Amelia? He wanted to protect her from her own foolish schemes. The woman had no clue how dangerous her game could be. He raked his fingers through his hair. How would he be able to save her from herself while he was in Scotland? By the time he returned to London her reputation would be in ruins, and she would be shackled in an ill-gained marriage sure to make her miserable. He would have to speak with Aunt Grace before taking his leave.
* * * *
“What is the matter?” Edna stared at Amelia, concern reflected in her gaze.
Amelia clutched the letter Edna had brought her. “All is as it should be. Why do you ask?”
Edna shifted on her feet, appearing uncomfortable. “You have gone pale, and your hands are shaking. I will get the smelling salts.”
“That is not necessary.” Amelia waved the letter through the air. “I assure you, I am well.”
Edna studied her for a moment. “Very well, if there is nothing else--”
Amelia nodded her head, cutting off her maid’s words.
Once Edna left the room, Amelia reached into the desk drawer and retrieved a letter opener. She knew that nothing from Uncle Lewis would be well received. He had likely written to remind her she had but a fortnight left in England. She filled her lungs with air as she studied the letter resting in her hand. It was posted from Scotland. His ship must have made a stop there. With a lack of enthusiasm, she sliced the envelope open and pulled out the contents.
Dearest Amelia,
I trust that my letter will find you well, and enjoying your added time in London. I hope this time allows you to properly see to your responsibilities and arrange the necessary preparations. I do not doubt that the duchess is taking exemplary care of you, so on that topic I will say no more.
I have sent orders for my servants to prepare a suite of rooms for you on the south side of the plantation. The rooms I selected have an impressiv
e view of the gardens, for which I know you will be pleased. I have also ordered a room prepared for your maid. Passage has been arranged on the Acacia, which sails Thursday, the eighteenth of May.
Less than a fortnight! Blast it, everything seemed to be unraveling, and there was naught she could do about it. She crumpled the letter in her hand without finishing it as tears gathered in her eyes. The desire to run away from her problems overtook her sensibilities. The note slipped from her hand as she left the room and headed for the stables. Between Lord Roseington’s engagement and Uncle Lewis’s letter, all of her plans seemed to turn to dust. Not to mention the further complications added by the duke.
She traversed to the stable and ordered Ruby saddled at once. Amelia slid onto her sidesaddle and dug her heel into the horse’s sides causing it to take off at a fast canter. With no clear direction, she steered Ruby onto Piccadilly Street and raced toward the edge of London. In her wake, she could hear outraged Londoners yelling for her to slow down. Her mourning veil came loose and dropped to the dirty street. A cloud of dust trailed behind her as she raced on. The need to escape drove her on.
After reaching the edge of London, she pulled the reins, slowing Ruby. If she rode straight, she could go home to Everthorne. No one would think to search for her there, at least not until they exhausted themselves searching London. That would give her at least a day to be alone and think things through. The crunching sound of carriage wheels startled her out of her thoughts and she gathered the leather reins tighter. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she darted into the forest upon Ruby’s back. She could not chance being spotted this far from London. And without a chaperone at that.
The woods opened into a clearing with one grand tree in the center. Its thick trunk gave way to a snarl of low branches and bright green leaves. Dismounting, she dropped to the ground, then led Ruby to the majestic tree. She tied the reins about one of the thicker branches to secure the horse in place. Exhaustion swept over her as she lowered herself to the ground using the tree’s trunk for support. Ruby happily chomped the tall grass while Amelia tried to gather her energy and courage. Her heart cried out for home, making it easy for her to determine a destination.
Scandalous Endeavors (Ladies and Scoundrels Book 1) Page 7