The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga)

by Donovan, Christine

  His smiled faltered. “Do not think such things. Would you do me the honor of the first dance?” Myles’s quintessential grin was back.

  Amelia glanced alongside her to Bella, who waited to greet Myles. “I thank you, but I believe my sister would be much better company for you on the dance floor.”

  Myles nodded to Amelia before turning to greet Bella. And there was no mistaking the emotions she glimpsed in their eyes. They cared about each other. It made her wonder why Myles waited to suggest a match. Could it be Wentworth did not want such a match?

  No, that could not be right. Their brother wanted them all to marry for love, as he and Emma had. And tonight she could tell Myles and Bella were in love. So what stopped Myles from asking for her sister’s hand in marriage? Did Myles possess a deep, dark secret?

  To Amelia’s utter surprise, she danced every set once the music began. And she had to admit she enjoyed herself. It had been a long time since she’d danced. And she so loved to dance. It did not matter that her partners were her brothers and their family friends, Myles and Lord Amesbury. She danced and danced until she was lightheaded.

  Needing to catch her breath and moisten her parched throat, Amelia paused from dancing. She was standing at the refreshment table sipping punch with Emma and Bella when a hush suddenly fell over the room. Whispers traveled from one person to another akin to thunder rumbling in the distance. What had caused all the fuss?

  And then she overheard two older matrons. “The nerve of him, showing up after all these years. Doesn’t he realize he’s not welcome amongst the ton any longer? Such a dreadful scandal. One simply does not forget that people said he murdered his brother and sister-in-law. The passing of time doesn’t change the facts.”

  Amelia gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. They could only be talking about one person. William. She stood on tiptoe and twisted her head from side to side, trying to glimpse him.

  “Amelia, who are you looking for?” Emma asked as she looked around as well.

  “Lord Bridgeton.”

  “Our neighbor in Dover? That Lord Bridgeton? But I thought Wentworth said he never came to London.”

  “He doesn’t,” Amelia replied as her heart pounded against her ribs. Indeed, what brought him here? Did she dare hope he had come the distance because he wanted to see her?

  Finally her eyes fell on him. Her breath stopped. She’d never seen him dressed in formal attire. It suited him. William wore a black frock coat over a silver embroidered waistcoat that highlighted the several gray streaks threading his dark, thick, wavy hair. His white shirt and cravat were impeccably ironed, and he wore black Hessians instead of the heeled dress shoes worn by most gentlemen present. The boots made it hard to tell where his black trousers ended and his boots began. Then she noticed he was not alone.

  Beside William stood a handsome gentleman of similar height and build. Those were not the only similarities. The resemblance was close enough that they could be brothers. Except they could not be, as William’s brother was dead. They each had a beautiful young lady draped on their arms. These women also resembled the two men, but were beautiful rather than handsome. Leading the group was a proud old matron walking with a cane. Amelia did not think she had ever seen any of them before. Who were the people that accompanied William?

  Since the receiving line had ended long ago, Myles and his parents approached the newcomers with welcome smiles. Clearly Myles’s family knew them and expected them. After a time, William looked across the room directly at her. His expression was guarded, though he did nod his head.

  “Did you see that?” she asked Bella and Emma, her voice breathless.

  “See what?” Bella asked.

  “Lord Bridgeton. He looked directly at me.”

  “Oh, is that him? He is handsome. Resembles his cousin, Mr. Stuart Spencer,” Bella remarked.

  “That’s his cousin?” Amelia gasped. No wonder they looked alike. “Who are the two young ladies present?”

  “Mr. Spencer’s younger sisters,” Bella answered. “And the other woman with them is their grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Bridgeton.”

  “Bella,” Amelia murmured, “how do you know them?”

  “Oh, one sister came out last year. And I’ve danced several times with Mr. Spencer the past two Seasons. You were too wrapped up with Captain Rycroft your first Season to notice anyone else. I believe I caught Mr. Spencer’s eye my first Season. But as you both know, only Myles will do for me.”

  “Bella, to say such things, when anyone could hear,” Emma chastised.

  ***

  William didn’t think he could stand there another minute while Amelia, looking breathtaking, stood across the room staring at him. However, he forced himself to stay put. Both Amelia’s brothers were present. William noticed Sebastian standing across the way, and he did not look pleased to see him. The older brother, the duke, stared at him with intelligent and knowing blue eyes. If William had the slightest chance of courting Amelia, he needed to take his time and plan a course of action. He needed the duke’s respect and permission.

  Before William could formulate a plan, both of Amelia’s brothers were by his side.

  “Lord Bridgeton, what brings you to London this Season?” Wentworth asked, his eyes alight with knowledge. William got the feeling the duke had been informed that he and Amelia had spent time together.

  “Spencer finally convinced me to come out of hiding, as I’ve nothing to hide.” He paused and looked at the other brother. “Lord Sebastian, it’s good to see you again.”

  “I wish I could say the same,” Sebastian mumbled.

  “Please excuse my brother’s poor manners,” Wentworth apologized stiffly. “He’s been in America too long.”

  “I prefer gentlemen who speak their minds.” William grinned at Sebastian, showing he did not take the insult to heart. Then he bowed courteously.

  “If you gentlemen will excuse me, there is someone I wish to speak with.”

  He pivoted around, paused, and turned back. “Wentworth, would you be kind enough to formally introduce me to your sister?” William had almost forgotten he could not traipse across the room and engage Amelia in conversation without a formal introduction. While he waited for Wentworth to speak, his breath suspended in his throat.

  “Indeed,” Wentworth replied. “Come with me. I’ll also introduce you to my wife—and both my sisters.”

  William followed Wentworth across the ballroom, ignoring the stares and whispers meant to torment him. People could say what they wanted; he did not have plans to run back to Dover anytime soon. Also, as an earl, he deserved the respect due anyone of his station. He made a conscious decision not to hide anymore or feel sorry for himself. He’d continue to miss his brother and his brother’s wife, but no matter what people thought, he now realized he deserved a life––and a happy one. He sensed only one person could make him happy and he’d followed her here, to God-forsaken London in the height of the Season.

  “Lord Bridgeton,” Wentworth began once they reached the three ladies, stepping up beside the woman who, he assumed, from the affection in her eyes, must be his wife. “May I introduce you to Her Grace, the Duchess of Wentworth?”

  “Your Grace, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” William said as he bowed over the hand she proffered.

  “The honor is mine, Lord Bridgeton. I believe my husband mentioned you’re our neighbor in the country?” Her Grace’s American accent was charming. The smile she gave William appeared genuine, and her sparkling, blue eyes didn’t miss a thing.

  “Yes, we’re neighbors. When next you are in residence, I hope you’ll call on me for tea.”

  “Thank you, I’d enjoy that immensely,” the young and beautiful duchess replied.

  “Lady Amelia, Lady Isabella,” Wentworth continued the introductions, gesturing to each in turn. “May I present Lord Bridgeton?”

  The blonde, Lady Isabella, spoke up first. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Bridgeton.”
She curtsied, smiled, and offered her white-gloved hand.

  Taking it, he brought it briefly to his lips and bowed. “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Isabella.”

  He turned and met Amelia’s soft brown eyes, took the hand she extended to his lips, and bowed. “Lady Amelia, it is an honor to make your acquaintance at last.”

  She curtsied daintily, full of grace as usual “Likewise, my lord.”

  “Would you do me the honor of the next dance, Lady Amelia?” He turned to Wentworth. “Do I have your permission to dance with Lady Amelia?”

  Did William hear incorrectly, or did Wentworth growl? The duchess placed a warning hand on her husband’s arm and squeezed, causing Wentworth to wince. “Very well, you have my permission to dance with my sister.”

  Amelia bowed and mouthed a silent Thank you to her brother. She placed her hand on William’s forearm. As they walked onto the dance floor, every eye in the room rested upon them. And the rumbling whispers were deafening. William could just imagine the things being said. What is that murderer doing in this very ballroom? The nerve of him, showing his face in polite Society after killing both his brother and his brother’s loving wife. Has the duke finally gone mad, like his father before him, to allow such a creature to dance with his sister?

  And there were others, not so hurtful. How nice to see the earl back in London getting on with his life––such tragedy to befall one good family. What a lovely couple he and Lady Amelia make. He could dream, could he not?

  Somehow the orchestra read William’s mind and began to play a waltz. He almost didn’t trust himself to touch Amelia as he led her to an open spot on the floor. Memories of the last time he held her made his lust flare, and he consciously had to tamp it down. Amelia smiled shyly up at him as she placed her quivering hand in his and rested her other lightly on his hip. His skin burned where they touched. His hand, resting at the small of her back, wanted so badly to pull her close. He ached to bring her closer to his heart.

  “Are you surprised to see me?” he murmured close to her ear, loving the fact that he could see her face blush a becoming shade of pink as he drew back.

  “Very surprised,” Amelia replied as her full lips curled up into a smile, causing William’s heart to melt down around them. He knew nothing would probably come of their relationship other than friendship. Wentworth would never consider him worthy enough to court his sister. So he would take what little she could offer and be content with that. He did not blame Wentworth. William had a tarnished reputation, even though he had once stood among the most honorable of them all.

  “Oh, look.” She turned her head to the left. “Myles is dancing with Bella. Do they not make a lovely couple? And look…” Her voice rose with excitement once again. “Sebastian is dancing with Marissa. She was devastated when he moved to America.”

  Laughter bubbled out of William, causing the gazes of onlookers to fall upon the couple once again. “Are you matchmaking?”

  “Anyone can see Myles and Bella belong together,” Amelia said. “As for Sebastian and Marissa, only time will tell.”

  “My cousin, Spencer, will be disappointed to hear about Myles and Bella. I believe Spencer mentioned something about Isabella, and finding her…breathtaking. Although I might steal his words and use them to describe you.”

  Bloody hell, did she have any idea how beautiful she looked? Or what she did to him? All he wanted to do was escape to some secluded place with her and make passionate love to her. He wondered if she knew she too had a passion inside her waiting to be brought to life again. Their one encounter had proven that.

  He wondered briefly about the gossip surrounding her missing time in America. The reality was that he was falling in love with her, despite all her baggage and secrets. Maybe even a bit because of them…

  ***

  They swirled around the dance floor, and Amelia felt like a fairytale princess. Never in her wildest imagination had she expected to see William in London or to dance with him like this. Did he have business here, or could she let herself believe he had come to London because of her? Dancing within the confines of his strong, muscular arms gave her courage to believe the latter. And when William spoke, his voice wrapped around Amelia like a warm cocoon. She could never forget his voice and the effect it had on her.

  When the waltz ended, he escorted her over to the elderly lady he had arrived with this evening. She sat in a chair along the wall, surrounded by married ladies, mothers, and older family members. Amelia’s heart fluttered as William leaned close to her. His words convinced her that he had sensed her hesitation.

  “Don’t be frightened,” he whispered into her ear. “My grandmother does not bite.”

  The other ladies leaned closer hoping to hear. He turned his back to them and faced his grandmother.

  “Lady Amelia Seabrook,” he began in his smooth voice. “May I introduce you to my grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Bridgeton.”

  “My lady,” Amelia said as she curtsied, praying her trembling knees did not give way and land her in the dowager’s lap.

  “Lady Amelia, how nice it is to meet you,” William’s grandmother said softly, greeting Amelia with a smile. “I’ve known your family for many years. Your mother’s a lovely woman. I hope you’ll both call on me for tea sometime soon.”

  Then she winked. The Dowager Countess of Bridgeton had winked at Amelia.

  Amelia nodded her head. “Thank you, my lady, we would love to.”

  The dowager countess delicately waved her hand, shooing them away. “Now go on. Enjoy yourselves while you are young, and leave an old woman in peace.”

  Amelia rested her hand on William’s arm as they strolled over to meet more of his family. Oh, dear, could she handle more introductions?

  “Relax, they won’t bite either,” William said as though he could read her mind, again.

  “If you say so,” Amelia said as her body trembled, her imagination getting the better of her. Had she heard someone just whisper something about her and a child? Now she wanted to flee, her mind spinning in wild directions. It’s Lady Amelia, back from America. Does her waist look thicker? What do you suppose they did with the baby? How sad and tragic, the death of her captain only weeks before their nuptials. Do you suppose the baby was stillborn?

  “Lady Amelia?” William’s voice snapped her out of her imaginings. “May I present my cousin, Mr. Stuart Spencer. Spencer, Lady Amelia Seabrook.”

  Mr. Spencer grinned and winked at her as he bowed over her hand. “Lady Amelia. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, although I must ask why you are with my cousin, when there are so many gentlemen in attendance here this evening just waiting for him to leave your side.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again.

  “Spencer, how could you say such a thing?” scolded one of the young women.

  Both men burst out laughing, once again causing people to glance their way.

  “Easy, little sister, easy.” Spencer cleared his throat. “Lady Amelia, may I introduce you to my sisters, Mary and Elizabeth Spencer?”

  Once the introductions were over, Amelia found herself being escorted to the dance floor by Mr. Spencer.

  “I hope it’s a waltz so we may talk,” Spencer said as the musicians began the next piece. “Just my luck, a minuet. What a shame. I’ll be too busy concentrating on my steps to speak.”

  “We may sit this one out if you prefer.” Amelia hoped he would consent. She hadn’t danced a minuet in years. She worried about embarrassing both of them with a misstep during the slow, complicated dance.

  “And miss all the fun? I would not dream of it.” Mr. Spencer bowed and she responded by curtsying, taking his arm, and beginning the first of many three-quarter turns around the room.

  When the music finally struck its last chord, Amelia sighed with relief. “That went well. I only stepped on your foot twice and turned the wrong way once.”

  Mr. Spencer laughed. “And I turned the wrong way twice and s
tepped on your foot three times. I’m dreadfully sorry. My dancing master said I was hopeless dancing anything but a waltz. I’m afraid he was right.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I enjoyed myself immensely. I’m afraid several of the couples near us cannot say the same. Did you see the Marquess and Marchioness of Roxbury look down their noses at us when we accidentally bumped into them?”

  Spencer leaned close to her ear. “Yes, and I had a hard time apologizing when I really wanted to say, ‘Stay on your own side of the ballroom.’”

  Covering her mouth with her hand, Amelia smothered a giggle. “Oh, dear, my mother is looking none too happy with me.” She curtsied. “I must see to her. Thank you for the dance.”

  As she settled into the vacant seat beside her mother, Amelia sighed and tried to catch her breath after all the dancing. The night had not turned out so badly after all. “I’m sorry, Mama. I could not concentrate on the dance with Mr. Spencer making jokes the whole time.”

  Her mother patted her hand. “That’s not why I frowned at you. I had just heard such vile things being said about Lord Bridgeton by that dreadful gossip, Mrs. Henderson. The gall of her when her own brood of sons goes about carousing, gambling, and spending nights with loose women. She should mind her tongue lest it come back on her.”

  “Mother,” Amelia warned, “please keep your voice down. Someone might hear you.”

  “Let them overhear, because it’s true. And you know how I hate gossip. It ruined your father and nearly ruined our whole family.”

  This time Amelia patted her mother’s hand, “I know. People can be cruel.” Did she dare ask? “What do you think of Lord Bridgeton?”

  “Amelia dear, all past tragedies and gossip aside, I sense he is a nice gentleman.” She waited for the rest. Amelia could hear there was more to come, by the tone of her mother’s voice. “However, you cannot attach your name to his. There is enough talk about you and your time in America. Your reputation cannot take on the association with him.” Her mother’s hand rose in the air as Amelia began to protest. “Please let me finish. I can see you’re taken with him, and he with you. But for both your sakes, end this now. In a perfect world, the fact that you are the sister of a duke and he is an earl should warrant nothing but respect. I wish for both your sakes that we lived in a perfect world.”