“Will you consider William for me?” she ventured, knowing full well what her brother’s answer would be.
“No.”
Amelia blinked her eyes before she rested them on her brother’s handsome face, a face so like Sebastian’s and Bella’s and Papa’s. She was the only one who resembled their mother. It could not be easy being Wentworth after all the scandal surrounding their father––his gambling, his mistresses, and his drunken death. Wentworth took over a financially doomed Seabrook family and worked diligently to bring respectability back into the family. Even if he hadn’t come into the Hamilton fortune by marrying Emma, Amelia knew he would have prevailed against adversity. He had selflessly given his family everything he had to give.
She understood that Wentworth had her best interests at heart. And if marrying Yarmouth would give her back her daughter, then perhaps she should consent.
“Send word to Yarmouth that he may ask for my hand. And Wentworth, there is nothing to forgive. You are doing what any good brother would do. I will do my family duty and commit myself to being the best wife ever.” Amelia forced a smile. “You could wish me to marry Lord Rockport or Lord Eastham.”
Wentworth laughed. “I would never. But I thank you for consenting to marry the duke. I have complete faith in him—that he is worthy and will make you happy.”
***
Later that afternoon, while lounging on a chaise in her room, Amelia contemplated her future as the Duchess of Yarmouth. Soon after her nuptials, she could fake her maid’s death and beg to adopt Olivia as their own. How hard could that be? Would not the duke do anything for his new bride?
Dear God, could she let herself believe it could be that easy?
Then she thought of William. Sobs painfully escaped from deep inside her chest as she envisioned his eyes laced with pain and sadness at the news of her impending marriage to Yarmouth. She did not want to cause him pain. He of all people deserved happiness and love.
***
“Welcome,” Mr. Smythe said to William and Spencer as they entered the small, windowless, cluttered office of the Bow Street Runner. “What can I do for you?”
“I am Lord Bridgeton, and this is my cousin, Mr. Spencer. We’ve come to hire you to look into several murders.”
Smythe put out his hand, indicating two wooden chairs across from his desk. “Please sit and tell me about these murders.”
William and Spencer explained everything they knew about Katherine’s parents’ carriage accident and Geoffrey’s and Katherine’s murders. They waited patiently for the Runner to decide whether to take their case.
“Before you decide,” William said, “you should know that most people believe I killed my brother and his wife. As for Katherine’s parents, it was deemed an accident. Katherine disagreed. She suspected foul play.” William rubbed his chin. “I realize years have gone by, but I believe Baron Trenton is responsible, either directly or indirectly. You should also be aware, Trenton has been blackmailing me with family secrets ever since my brother’s death. Before that, he blackmailed Geoffrey for the same secrets only the three of us knew. At least that’s what we thought.” He glanced at Spencer. Spencer nodded his head. “Spencer knows as well. But that is all. No one else knows. There had been rumors when my brother was alive, but that was all. Rumors, nothing more.”
“How did Sir Phillip Trenton come to know of this secret?” Smythe asked.
“I don’t know,” William answered.
“If I take the case, I need to know the secret.”
“That is not an option,” William said quietly. “My brother’s secret is his and his alone. He and I spent years and thousands of pounds keeping it secret. I will not have it made public and ruin my dead brother’s reputation.”
“His secret will not leave this room. I will never speak of it to another.” Smythe leaned forward in his chair and tilted his head as if waiting. He could wait until hell froze over. William would not divulge his brother’s secret.
“I realize, Lord Bridgeton, that you have kept this secret for many years. But if I am to take on your case, I need to know everything down to the smallest detail.”
William closed his eyes and groaned. “He preferred men.”
To his credit, Smythe did not blink. “Now the blackmailing makes sense. But if what you say is the truth, how is it your sister-in-law came to be pregnant?”
One brow rose as William stared at the Runner. If he could not understand the gesture then he didn’t deserve to be hired.
“I understand.” Smythe pushed some papers aside. “I’ll take the case. But I cannot guarantee that your brother’s secret will not come out. Sir Phillip Trenton knows it, and there is nothing to stop him from announcing it to anyone who will listen when he finds out he is under investigation.” Smythe held up his hand as William began to interrupt. “I will do everything in my power to keep Sir Phillip from knowing he is being investigated and followed. But sometimes, even I cannot prevent truths from being exposed.”
William did not like this one bit. But the time had come to have his brother’s murderer revealed and punished. If Trenton had arranged for Katherine’s death, he had also killed William’s own child. Pain radiated in his heart for that child and for Katherine. Katherine’s brother Trenton needed to pay for all for he had done. Would a scandal, if Geoffrey’s preferences toward males became known, be worth it? He had to believe it would be. No shame could affect Geoffrey now. The dead did not feel shame, only the living and William knew he could live with it.
Even if they couldn’t prove Trenton murdered them, at least William could hold his head high because he had finally tried to get justice. He would go to his grave knowing he tried. “Will you take the case?”
“I will. I need a sizable sum up front as I will be hiring other runners. We will keep Trenton within our sights at all times. Meanwhile, I will personally look into the deaths you mentioned.” Smythe looked at William. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No. If I think of something I’ll send a message. Meanwhile, send word to my residence here in London if you find out anything. If I’m not in residence there, send it to my country estate,” William replied.
Back in the carriage, William rubbed his aching temples with his index fingers. “This has turned into a terrible day. I’ll give the Runner a week before I head back to the country. If there’s no news, there will be nothing here for me.”
“Nothing?” Spencer asked, his brows raised.
“You know what I mean.” He leaned back into the squabs, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Nothing I can have, anyway.”
***
Amelia and her family were attending a small, formal gathering a week later when she spotted Mr. Spencer and his two sisters across the large salon. Before she knew it, her feet were moving at a quick pace, eating up the distance between them. Tamping down her excitement at the thought that William might have attended as well, she slowed her steps and nodded her head.
“Mr. Spencer, Mary, Elizabeth, how nice to see you again.” Her eyes darted around, looking for him. “Is Bridgeton in attendance this evening?” Subtle, very subtle, Amelia.
The three Spencer’s glanced at one another before all six eyes fell on her. Pity stared back at her. Understanding dawned. They need not say the words. William had left. Unshed tears pooled in her eyes.
Amelia’s throat burned and her body trembled. Thank goodness Mr. Spencer noticed when she started to sway. Grabbing her elbow tightly, he escorted her outside into the cool night air to the nearest bench, where she sat and filled her lungs with much needed air. Soon her head stopped spinning, and she clasped her hands in her lap.
“Thank you,” Amelia murmured.
“For what?” Spencer asked.
“For not letting me make a fool of myself,” she replied with a hiccup.
“You could never do that.” Spencer’s low voice soothed her as much as someone with a broken heart could be soothed.
Now she force
d out the question for which she really didn’t want the answer. “Did he leave?”
“It’s what he does best.”
“I realize I have no right to ask, but why?” she asked.
“Lady Amelia…” Spencer placed one hand over hers. “I’m sure William had his reasons.”
“Is it because he heard of my betrothal to the Duke of Yarmouth?”
Mr. Spencer cleared his throat, squeezing her hands tightly before he removed his hands from hers. “No. Even I did not know that. Are congratulations in order?”
Amelia covered her face with her hands and cried. “The banns will be posted tomorrow.” She raised her head and grasped one of Mr. Spencer’s hands. “Tell William I’m sorry. I had no choice in the matter. Please tell him I wish him all the happiness in the world. ”
“I will, Lady Amelia.”
With all the poise and grace she could muster, she stood up and ran her hands down her skirts to smooth out any wrinkles. “Excuse me, Mr. Spencer. My family must be wondering where I’ve gone.”
When Amelia stepped into the salon, dinner was announced and couples lined up to file into the dining room.
“Amelia, there you are.” Sebastian held his arm out for her. “I was beginning to think you had deserted me.” He leaned down and whispered, “By the way, when you were gone, Lord Yarmouth arrived. I’m quite sure he was put out when he could not find you.”
“Oh, Sebastian, I know I am committed to the duke, but how does a woman marry a man she hardly knows?”
“My dear sister, after all the adversity you have faced in your young life, marrying the duke should be easy.”
“But…”
“But nothing,” Sebastian interrupted. “You told our brother you would wed the duke. You cannot change your mind now. The banns are being posted tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“Besides, the duke is young, wealthy, and handsome. All the debutantes and their mothers will cry in their pillows at night once they know that he is spoken for.”
She eyed the place cards on the table as Sebastian escorted her to her seat. After Amelia sat down, she found herself staring across the table at the young duke, her intended. Mr. Spencer sat to her left, and Bella to her right. Thank God she had her sister for support and, of course, Mr. Spencer.
The first course arrived, and Amelia continually brought the spoon to her mouth and returned it to the bowl un-sampled. The seafood stew smelled divine, but her stomach coiled in revolt. Every time she looked across the table the duke was staring at her intently. She could do worse, couldn’t she? She did have another problem, aside from not loving him. He made her feel old, even though he was six years her senior. With all she had experienced in her short life, she felt years older. Yarmouth appeared, at times, very young and untested in life experiences.
Occasionally he spoke to her from across the table and she nodded, pretending to listen when she heard nothing but voices pummeling her from the multiple conversations going on around her.
The duke appeared genial. Gentle even. Her guilty conscience plagued her. He deserved a wife who loved him. Or at least one who wanted to marry him.
Why had she let Wentworth make her believe all would be well if she married the duke? Because he said she would have her daughter if she did. That was the solitary reason she agreed to this marriage. Her daughter meant more to her than her own happiness. She would do anything to have Olivia close.
Course after course came, and she did nothing but push her food around. Even Mr. Spencer tried to engage her in conversation. She did nothing but nod her head and pretend to listen.
“Amelia?” Bella leaned close to her and spoke for her ears only. “What is wrong with you? The duke has been trying to speak to you, and you have ignored him.”
“I do not feel well. Perhaps Sebastian could take me home and send the carriage back.”
“No, no, once dinner is over, if you’re still feeling unwell, we will all go home. Myles is not here, and I fear I will become bored to tears once dinner is over.” Bella paused and smiled. “I could flirt with Mr. Spencer, do something shocking so Myles will hear about it and be at our door first thing tomorrow, begging me to marry him.”
“Bella!” Amelia gasped. “You jest.”
“A girl can dream, can’t she?” Bella sighed. “Besides, I can’t wait forever for Myles. I’m practically on the shelf. This is my third Season, and nobody has a fourth Season without being considered a wallflower. Wilted and past her prime, sitting on the sidelines with not an interested gentleman admirer in sight.”
“Stop. You will never be a wallflower. And many men would be interested, but you wear your heart on your sleeve for all to see.”
“You’re right. If I have to I will sneak into Myles’s bedchamber in the middle of the night, strip naked, and force his hand. Once the servants and his family find me there he will have to marry me.”
“Bella,” Amelia admonished, “you wouldn’t do such a scandalous thing.”
“No…” She frowned. “I have thought about it. But you’re right, I wouldn’t do it. I want Myles to love me, not hate me.”
“Myles does love you,” Amelia whispered. “He just needs a little push. Maybe you should…”
“He would hate me.”
“Not that. Perhaps you should sit down with him next time he visits and tell him how you feel.”
Myles would have to be stupid to not know already that Bella loved him. Maybe he hesitated because he needed proof of her love. Amelia believed there must be something in Myles’s past that was holding him back from professing his love to Bella. And if there were, did their brother Wentworth know about it?
Amelia was so engrossed in their private conversation that she did not notice dinner being cleared. Usually the men retired for port and cigars, but obviously they would not tonight as the duke stood behind her chair. “May I escort you into the salon for sherry?”
Once in the room, Amelia carried on a mindless conversation with Yarmouth while sipping more than her share of sherry. If she had to get a little tipsy to get through the evening, what harm was there in that? In the morning her head would ache, but at the moment she did not care. The duke seemed kind, but she found him rather boring. Oh, how she missed her conversations with Bridgeton.
If Yarmouth mentioned the weather one more time, she would scream. Didn’t he have anything worthwhile to say to her? And if she screamed, that would give the gossipmongers more fuel for the fire! Could the young duke be shy or nervous? That must be it. Hopefully when they married he would loosen up. If he didn’t, her future looked bleak.
What would their marriage bed be like? Would he do his thing and leave, or would he insist they share a bed? Would he give her children? She so wanted to have more. The love she had for Olivia started in her womb and continued growing after she gave birth until it encompassed her whole world. She had more love to give. Much more love to give to other children.
Yarmouth suddenly gave her a questionable look, and she feared she had missed part of the conversation. “Pardon me, Your Grace, were you speaking to me?” Of course he was. They sat alone in a private corner.
“Yes, Lady Amelia. Pardon my forwardness, but are you feeling ill?”
“Yes, I feel a slight headache coming on.” How had she forgotten about wanting to ask her brother to leave right after dinner? Amelia rose and Yarmouth came to his feet as well. “If you will excuse me,” she said as she curtsied, “I will speak to my brother.”
Yarmouth bowed. “May I call on you tomorrow?” His eyes were filled with excitement and desire. “After all, it is the day our banns will be posted.”
Oh, dear, how could she have forgotten? “Yes, I would enjoy that.” If she had glimpsed desire just now in his eyes, wouldn’t that be a good thing? It meant he did desire her. Unfortunately, Amelia did not desire him. She trembled with revulsion. She could do her wifely duty, give him an heir, and then encourage him to take a mistress. Yes, that is what she woul
d do.
Making her way across the crowded room, she spotted Emma speaking to Lady Beth who used to be engaged to Amesbury. Would she ever know the truth to that unhappy story? They were betrothed for nearly a year, with the wedding approaching, when Amesbury became deathly sick with a mysterious illness. After he recovered, Lady Beth had broken off the engagement. Rumors encircled the couple for months, but Amelia never did know the real reasons behind the breakup. As far as she could see, they both still had feelings for each other.
“Lady Beth, how nice to see you,” Amelia greeted her.
“Lady Amelia, it’s lovely to see you,” Lady Beth said with a smile. “It has been too long. How were your travels to America?”
“Different, but in a good way. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there, although I’m delighted to be home,” Amelia said as sadness descended over her. Her time in America would always have a special place in her heart. Memories of her pregnancy with Olivia, the delivery and then her time spent with her daughter were precious. Those times would be treasured until the end of Amelia’s days.
“Her Grace just told me congratulations are in order,” Lady Beth said. “You are marrying Yarmouth. How wonderful for you.”
“Yes. Thank you, Lady Beth.” It tortured Amelia to admit she planned to marry him. She prayed daily it didn’t come to fruition. Turning to Emma, she asked, “Where is my brother?”
“Playing cards. Is something wrong?” The concern in Emma’s voice was touching.
“To tell the truth, I’m not feeling well. Do you think he will let Sebastian escort me home?”
***
“Are you truly feeling unwell, or did you get bored with the duke?” Sebastian asked with a smirk.
“Bored,” Amelia admitted.
Masculine laughter rang out in the coach.
“Don’t laugh. It’s not funny,” Amelia chided him. “He is the dullest man I’ve ever met. Seriously, how do people in arranged marriages manage to live day to day with someone they do not love? Oh, I know, according to Mother, love will come. But I don’t believe that to be the truth for all marriages.”
The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga) Page 10