The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga)

by Donovan, Christine

  The anguish in her mother’s voice startled Amelia. She did not believe those words were for her and William alone. Things had been said over the years that had hurt her mother deeply. Everyone knew Amelia’s father drank himself to death and that he squandered the family fortune in the gaming halls and on his numerous mistresses.

  Thank God for Emma’s father’s fortune. Without it, their family would be poverty stricken. Even though some people might gossip about their family behind their backs, they would never shun them in public. Invitations to every ball and social event still arrived at their door. Nobody would dare go against the Duke of Wentworth, one of the Prince Regent’s favorites. So why could she not be with William? Surely Wentworth could take care of any gossip.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “She’s lovely,” Spencer remarked when he returned to William and his sisters after his minuet with Amelia. “Not at all a frivolous debutante. How refreshing, and her laugh…” He laid his hand over his heart dramatically. “It made my heart sing.”

  “Yes, I agree, she’s lovely,” Mary interjected. “And young. Why, she must be my age. I heard she lived in America for a time.” She sighed wistfully. “How exciting.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth added. “How exciting. Do you suppose she met any natives? Can you imagine how thrilling to have one ride up on horseback and steal you away into the wilderness and have his…” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Never mind.”

  The men exchanged worried looks. “You must keep a watchful eye on Lizzie at all times, cousin. I fear she’s a romantic and a dreamer,” William said.

  “What’s wrong with that?’ Lizzie asked, her chin tilting up a tad in defiance.

  “Nothing, sister, nothing,” Mary soothed, trying to keep the peace.

  “Spencer?” William cocked a brow. “I believe you’ll lose many a night’s sleep over Lizzie. Not to mention eye strain trying to keep her in your sights at all times. She’s liable to run off to Gretna Green with the first handsome devil that comes along.”

  “I will not,” Lizzie said as her eyes narrowed on William. “I’ll have you know Mr. Neville wanted to do just that last year, and I refused.”

  “He did? How dare he?” Spencer muttered as he turned around in a circle. “Where is he? Is he in attendance? Why, that little sniveling…”

  William placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Easy. The important thing is she didn’t go with him. She’s just trying to give you more gray hair, cousin. Relax.”

  “Easy for you to say––she’s not your sister. And I don’t need any more gray in my hair. If I get any more, I’ll resemble you even more.” Spencer shivered, “How truly horrifying.”

  This time William smacked Spencer on the back, causing him to grunt.

  “Stop,” Mary said as she looked around, “people are staring. Please don’t ruin my chances of finding a husband before my first Season has even begun.”

  “Don’t fret, little sister,” Spencer said. “With your generous dowry, there’ll be many a gentleman needing to fill his family’s pockets, vying for your hand. You’ll have your husband, if they can convince me they’re worthy of you.”

  Mary’s eyes widened, and she looked around. “Do you see anyone worthy of me now?”

  William sighed. Poor Mary, willing to marry the first gentleman who came along. Did she not want love? What was he saying? Love, bloody hell. He’d had that once and look what it had done to him. No, Mary would be better off marrying a poor titled gentleman and leave the love to Lizzie, who, he had the feeling, would hold out for that ever-mystifying emotion. Spencer had his hands full with them. It almost made William wish he had a younger sister to take care of. Almost. He smiled.

  “I, for one, wish to talk about Lady Amelia again,” Spencer said, clearly not comfortable with Mary’s question. “Don’t you think she might be a tad too young for you, cousin?”

  William did not mistake the challenge in Spencer’s eyes.

  “Well, I do need an heir,” William replied.

  “You do not.” Spencer grinned. “You have me.”

  William smothered a cough. “That’s true. I’ll tell you three this, and keep it to yourselves. There can be nothing but friendship between Lady Amelia and me. She will never be allowed anything more.” He ignored the three sets of eyes focused on him. “If and when I do marry, the woman I choose will be a widow or someone on the shelf, but still young enough to produce an heir.”

  William rubbed his chin but shook his head. Did he really want that? His eyes fell on Amelia across the crowded ballroom, and his heart stopped. Why couldn’t his heart listen to his head? Amelia was not the one for him. She needed and deserved someone without scandal attached to him.

  She needed a man without demons chasing him on a daily basis.

  She deserved a man without dark secrets.

  “Excuse me,” Spencer said, pulling William out of his unpleasant musings. “I believe this is my turn to dance with Lady Isabella.”

  ***

  As Spencer wove his way across the overly warm ballroom he wondered, not for the first time, why he bothered with Lady Isabella. Any fool could see she fancied herself in love with Norwich. He always seemed to go after the unattainable. Spencer prided himself in believing he was nobody’s fool. Perhaps he could be of use to the lady another way. He smiled and bowed before his dance partner and ignored his sudden lightheadedness at glimpsing her beauty up close.

  He could not kid himself. Spencer truly wanted to drown himself in the deep blue of her eyes, and his hands itched to pull the pins from her light blond hair and bury his face in the silky tresses. Never mind what he wanted to do with the rest of her lush body… Get a grip on your lust, he admonished himself.

  “I believe this is my waltz, Lady Isabella,” Spencer said, his calm voice contradicting his excitement.

  He ignored the momentary flicker of annoyance in her eyes. When she nodded and smiled, he almost stumbled.

  The feel of her hand lightly resting on his forearm sent waves of heat crashing through his body. If he could just convince her she loved him instead of Norwich, he would consider himself the luckiest gentleman alive.

  Once he held Isabella in his arms, he forgot to breathe.

  “Are you unwell, Mr. Spencer?” she inquired, looking at him solicitously.

  “No. I’m perfectly fine. I’ve not seen you for some time, Lady Isabella. Are you and your family well?” He knew he sounded like a tongue-tied youngster dancing for the first time.

  “My family’s well. Thank you for asking. How is yours?” Isabella asked.

  “Everyone is fine, except Mother. She didn’t quite feel herself and stayed home this evening.” He still sounded like a young buck. “You must be delighted that your brother and sister are back from America.”

  Finally, he had a smile from her and her face lit up causing his pulse to speed up.

  “Yes, I missed them terribly. They are both back to stay. Sebastian sold all Wentworth’s holdings in America. There is no reason for anyone to go back there.”

  Isabella’s soft, sing-song voice pulled Spencer in as surely as the rest of her did. “I’m also thrilled to have my cousin back, even if he was only in Dover. I’ve not seen him since his sister-in-law died.”

  “Yes, how sad and tragic for Bridgeton, losing his brother then his sister-in-law.” She paused. “My sister seems quite taken with him.”

  Then Lady Isabella seemed to lose her train of thought. Although she spoke to Spencer, her eyes were on a couple dancing across the way. Norwich and a young widow––one with a reputation for entertaining many of the young gentlemen in attendance––laughed while dancing. The passing of her ancient husband had left her a wealthy widow.

  Lady Isabella’s body tensed and her eyes dimmed at the sight of them together.

  “She means nothing to him,” Spencer found himself saying. The look on her face splintered his heart.

  “This is my third Season. If I don’t find a husband soon, I’
ll be considered a spinster.”

  Were those tears pooling in her eyes? “Lady Isabella, you’ll never be a spinster.”

  Isabella sighed deeply. “It’s no use. I’ve wasted two years waiting for Norwich. I will not wait any longer.”

  Before Spencer could prevent himself he began, “I don’t know what’s stopping Norwich from declaring himself. Even I can see he has feelings for you. I have an idea. What if you were to make him jealous?”

  “Jealous. Oh, I could never contrive to do such a thing.”

  Spencer lowered his head. “You would be surprised what one is capable of doing.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As Amelia skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs she mumbled, “Here we go again.”

  Every hothouse in London must have delivered flowers to their door that morning. Oh, how she dreaded going through this draining experience again. At exactly two that afternoon, eligible gentlemen would swarm their drawing room, vying for Bella’s and her affections. Who made up this ridiculous thing called tea time? Some old married lady, no doubt. One who did not have to entertain half the gentlemen of the ton.

  Upon entering the morning room, she found her two brothers alone. Where were Bella and Mama? Emma must be with little Hamilton. How she envied Emma’s time with her son. What she would give to be in the nursery with Olivia right now. She pushed those thoughts aside along with the tightness in her throat and said, “Good morning, Wentworth. Sebastian.”

  Wentworth replied with a grunt. “Look at all those damn flowers. I’ve been sneezing all morning and my head’s throbbing from the pungent stench. Why can’t the florists come up with flowers that look good but have no scent whatsoever?”

  “In a bad mood, brother? Did your lovely wife Emma ban you from her bed last night?” Sebastian said with a devilish grin. “We find you’re positively miserable this morning.”

  Wentworth glared at Sebastian. “Keep Emma out of this. I hate this time of year where I have to open my door to every gentleman who comes around hoping to marry one of our sisters.” Wentworth waved his arm impatiently. “If Myles would get off his ass and propose to Bella…” His eyes came Amelia’s way, and he added, “That would leave only you to worry over.”

  “Wentworth, it’s time I confided in you,” Amelia said, her stomach knotting up tight. “I do not plan to marry. I want to live in Dover with Olivia.”

  “You cannot be serious.” Wentworth turned to her. “You are twenty. Give it some time, Amelia.”

  “I don’t want to give it time. If I marry I’d never be able to acknowledge…” She shook her head, then clarified, “Never mind. You would not understand.”

  “Oh, I understand more than you think. That’s why the choosing of your husband will be done with great thought and care. I know you don’t wish to marry, but I must insist. I won’t have you living out your days in the country alone without someone besides your daughter for companionship.”

  But––”

  “Do not interrupt. I’ve thought long and hard about this situation, and I think it can be resolved with a strong man and title behind him. Even if you have to tell everyone Amelia is your deceased maid’s child and you and your new husband are adopting her. People will talk, and some people will guess the truth. But they will not dare do it to your face or shun you. The invitations will continue to come to your door, and the talk will die down eventually.”

  Her heart did a little flip. “Do you believe it could work out that way?”

  “I do. And with the right gentleman, you’ll be able to tell him the truth.”

  Now her heart stopped. “I’m not sure about that. But if he does not want me after learning the truth, then he’s not worthy of my love.”

  “What about the Duke of Yarmouth who called on you during your first Season? He’s young, still unmarried, and a duke,” Sebastian added.

  Wentworth raked his fingers through his hair. “He might do. I’ve been impressed with his work in Parliament. I believe I spotted him last evening. Did you see him, Amelia?”

  Last night she had noticed no other gentlemen besides her brothers, their friends and William and Mr. Spencer. And with William present, her eyes had followed him wherever he went and every other gentleman had faded into the background. Which gave her the courage to ask, “What about Lord Bridgeton?”

  “What about him?” Sebastian asked.

  “Yes, what about him?” Wentworth added in a condescending tone.

  They were ganging up on her. “I’m fond of him,” Amelia said bravely. “Lord Bridgeton is kind and considerate. Besides, we never run out of things to say when we’re together.” Amelia’s cheeks heated and she tried to think of something cold. It would not be wise to show what she really thought and felt when around the earl. Or what she had let him do. Her brothers would be shocked.

  “I’m sorry, Amelia.” Wentworth looked at her and sighed. “He’ll not do. Too much scandal attached to his name. You need to marry someone with an impeccable reputation, for your daughter as well as for you.”

  True. She had to consider the welfare of her child above all else. “Is there such a man?” she asked. To her way of thinking one did not exist.

  “If there is, we’ll find him,” Wentworth assured her.

  Amelia left the morning room with her breakfast heavy in her stomach, angry at being treated like a horse for sale to the highest bidder. Even though she had met the Duke of Yarmouth, she did not remember him. She’d had eyes only for Captain Rycroft during her first Season. Fighting tears, she hurried up the stairs as fast as she could and went in search of Emma in the nursery. Hamilton was sitting on the floor playing with wooden blocks. As Emma stacked them, Hamilton knocked them over with laughter. The scene brought an ache to Amelia’s chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  A few moments later, Emma noticed her and smiled. “Hello, I’m trying to build a castle and Hamilton keeps knocking it over.” She rose, picked up her son, and swung him onto her hip. “Cecilia, would you take Lord Hamilton? Amelia, it’s beautiful out. We should find Bella and take a walk in the park?”

  That sounded splendid to Amelia. There was nothing like fresh air and sunshine on such a lovely, sunny day, which did not happen that often in London. It didn’t take much to convince Bella to come along.

  ***

  The three of them walked the several blocks to Hyde Park, warm beneath their pelisses, matching bonnets and bright sunshine. At this early hour Amelia was surprised at the numbers of women of the ton who were present, parading around in their spring-colored day dresses. The gentlemen walked and rode on the Serpentine, wearing frock coats in every color of the rainbow. Personally, she preferred gentlemen who dressed in dark or muted shades.

  “Look at all the strutting peacocks in their mauve, aquamarine, and chartreuse frock coats. Do they honestly think they look attractive?” She could never see either of her brothers wearing those shades. Occasionally Myles did, but usually he wore them to annoy Wentworth or Amesbury and to make fun of the other dandies. Somehow she could not see William dressed in anything but brown, black, tan, or gray as that was all she had seen him wear.

  Emma laughed. “I’ve been contemplating purchasing a frock coat in salmon for my husband.”

  “You’re not serious?” Bella asked, laughing.

  “No, probably not. My husband loves his dark, moody colors.” Emma slipped her arm through Bella’s and Amelia’s arms. “Do you see Lord Eastham? He resembles a wilted pink rose. How ridiculous to wear such a color. Why, he must be sixty, if a day.”

  “I heard he’s looking for a young wife since his only son died last year, leaving him without an heir,” Bella chimed in.

  “A wife?” Why Amelia should be surprised at that she could not say. She had met Lord Eastham briefly during her first Season, and that one time seemed enough in her mind. If she recalled correctly, he spoke loudly, had foul-smelling breath, and looked at her inappropriately. She shivered. “The poor girl who marries him. I
don’t care that he’s richer than King George. How could any lady let his hands . . .?” She shivered. “Dear God, the poor girl, whoever she will be.”

  “With his title and wealth, I’m quite sure there’s a father out there all too willing to betrothe his young daughter to the marquess.” Bella paused briefly. “Thank the Lord our brother believes in love. Can you imagine if he decided to marry one us of to that wrinkled old dandy?”

  “Your brother would never do such a thing,” Emma spoke up in support of her husband. “Now what I want to know is this…Tell me about Lord Bridgeton. He’s quite charming and handsome.” She led them over to a bench shaded by several oak trees. “How did you meet him, Amelia?”

  Once all three of them were settled on the bench, their pelisses and skirts smoothed and straightened, Amelia smiled and tried to ignore the fluttering of her heart inside her chest. She knew she could tell Bella and Emma anything and they would keep it confidential. But still, so much had happened since their last sister talk. Even so, it did feel good to be back with them. How she had missed both of them over the past year and a half.

  After a brief pause Amelia proceeded to tell the story of how and where she first met William. She even told them about how she cried and how he comforted her in his arms. She sighed. How she wanted to feel those strong arms around her again. Would it ever happen? Of course, Amelia left out the details of their last encounter.

  “Amelia, shame on you for spending time alone with him.” Bella’s words contradicted her wide smile. “Do you believe he murdered his brother and sister-in-law?”

  “Bella how can you ask such a question?” Emma scolded before turning back to Amelia. “Yet—do you believe the gossip?”