Runaway Christmas Bride

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Runaway Christmas Bride Page 4

by Isabella Hargreaves


  Amelia looked from the Colonel to Adam. A crease blemished the space above the bridge of her nose. “How could that be?”

  Still unaware of his blunder, the Colonel smiled at them both. “I’ve had plenty of time to observe him. Wellworth spent last January and February in Bath.”

  Amelia turned her troubled eyes to Adam and asked in an aghast voice. “Is this true? Are you really Major Wellworth?”

  His throat constricted worse than on that harrowing day last June when he had stood with the rest of Wellington’s army, stoically enduring the relentless pounding of Napoleon’s cannon and the repeated charges of his cavalry. His world, his hopes, his dreams exploded with every word spoken. Adam’s sweaty hands clenched into fists. His eyes met the stricken ones of Amelia. His words pushed past unwilling lips. “Yes, I’m Wellworth.”

  “Amelia, I’m sure the Major had his reasons for not revealing himself,” her great-aunt said.

  Amelia’s gaze snapped to her relative. “You knew!” She shook her head. “Of course you did. Mr Wells, Major Wellworth, spent time in Bath last season.”

  Lady Lavinia leaned forward, her hand outstretched to tap her great-niece’s arm. “Consider, Amelia! The Major was put in a very untenable position when you criticised him to his face! And by your parents’ interfering ways. Surely you can understand why he might wish to disguise his identity until you had got to know him and his true nature?”

  Amelia’s flushed face reddened further. She swallowed. “His true nature? She shot the words back at her great-aunt. “Wouldn’t an honest man find the opportunity to reveal himself soon afterwards?”

  Adam interrupted the brewing argument. “You’re right. I ought to have told you.”

  She turned to him again. Her voice was a whisper of hurt, the pain of his deception palpable in her words. “How could you mislead me? An honourable man, a gentleman, would not have done so.”

  His heartbeat slowed to a sluggish ache. He looked deep into her eyes and saw bewilderment, hurt, and humiliation. What could he say to make her look at him again with admiration?

  Nothing.

  Aunt Lavinia’s voice broke into his pain. “We will leave you to decide how you will proceed.” He was vaguely aware of her grasping the Colonel’s arm and hauling him from the room.

  “But our dinner, Lavinia!” the Colonel said.

  “Come, Arthur. Symes will serve us in the parlour. I have a few words to say to you.” She turned to Adam. “Major Wellworth, I would be glad if you would join us for dinner tomorrow.”

  With his gaze still on Amelia’s face, he nodded.

  Amelia betrayed no response.

  Chapter 6

  As soon as the double doors closed behind her great-aunt and the Colonel, Amelia hissed, “How could you deceive me so?”

  Adam spread his hands in supplication. “I had no intention of doing so …”

  “How can I believe you?”

  “Until I discovered that you held me in such disgust because of my age and injury, I planned to tell you.”

  “But you didn’t!”

  “What would you have done if I’d told you that the man you were disparaging was the one who sat before you?”

  Heat burned her cheeks. “How could I have guessed the man I had heard of was you?”

  “From whom did you hear such things?”

  “My parents told me that you were too old to have joined the army and no longer engaged in sporting activities because of your terrible injury.”

  “And from that you construed that I was an aged invalid?”

  To my shame! “I now find it hard to believe that you are that person described to me, but yes, that was what I thought.”

  He raised his hands in exasperation.

  “Did you tell my parents I was at the inn?”

  “I did not! I had no time to do so and neither would I do such a thing. Just before I left the inn I scrawled a note to my father at Wellworth Park, telling him that I was unexpectedly required to escort you to your great-aunt in Bath, but your parents already knew you were missing.” He dragged a hand through his hair, spiking its cropped ends.

  “They watched me closely.”

  “It appears they were more desperate to snare me than I was to be ensnared.”

  “I had very little power to resist them, except by escape to my great-aunt.”

  “I understand that and do not condemn your actions at all.”

  “Tell me, why would you wish to become the son-in-law of a pair of members of the aristocracy who look down their rather long noses at your origins and that of your wealth, while being only too eager to obtain a considerable portion of that money?”

  “Miss Fortescue, you cannot know what it is to be despised by women in Society for my bourgeois background, yet be courted for my wealth. It seems that money will make any man marriageable, although the thought of my shop-soiled touch on their person fills them with revulsion.”

  Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down. “On the contrary, I know full well what it is to be sought only for my material worth—not money, in my case, but my family pedigree.” Bitterness tinged her words as she recalled all the newly moneyed men paraded before her by her parents, in the hope of netting one who would take on their enormous debts in return for connection with a titled family, albeit of minor rank.

  “I expect there are many ambitious men desperate for a path to social acceptance,” he said.

  “I’m that conduit. My father has no male heirs. His title is one of the very few that can pass to a daughter because our ancestor received his peerage when he was called to Parliament by a writ of summons to the House. I have no siblings and should there never be a son the title will pass to me.” She paced the floor from the fireplace to the window overlooking the darkened crescent. “Think what that means to an ambitious, wealthy man whose family has dragged itself up from obscurity through endless hard work. The last step is to gain a title, if not for themselves, then for their descendants. That’s the stuff of a self-made man’s dreams!” She stopped and turned, fixing him with a piercing stare. “Isn’t that your dream?”

  He shook his head. “I knew nothing of this. It’s fantastical.”

  “But true.” Her mouth formed a line of grim resignation to this fact of her life.

  “If we married, your son would become Baron Fortescue.”

  “Never has your father mentioned this to me. It surprises me that he didn’t!” He took a step towards her, his hand outstretched in supplication. “Trust that I’m telling the truth,” he pleaded.

  “No.” Amelia took a step back, waving him away. “It’s too much. This deception. I … I need time to think everything through.” She rushed past him to escape the room, his seductive words, and his still attractive person.

  She would be a fool to forgive him. Wouldn’t she?

  Chapter 7

  Christmas Day

  Amelia spent a restless night as her mind churned through the events of the last few days and every conversation she had had with Adam Wellworth. In the cold dawn, she realised she had jumped to conclusions about him. She admitted to herself that in his position, she might have behaved exactly as Adam had done. To blame him for his deception was so unjust of her.

  She should not blame her parents for their desperate money-hunger, but that was a little more difficult to forgive.

  She reproached herself for her uncharitable behaviour into the early hours of the morning. Finally, exhausted, she slept.

  ***

  Midday was approaching by the time Amelia compelled her weary body downstairs to greet her aunt in her bedchamber, where she spent most mornings.

  “How are you feeling today?” her great-aunt asked. “Any revelations in the night?”

  What a perceptive woman Aunt Lavinia was. “I feel I’ve come to understand Major Wellworth’s actions.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it. He is a good man, from all I can tell.”

  “Your support of him cou
nts for a great deal, Aunt Lavinia.”

  “And he also has the Colonel’s good opinion, I might add.”

  Yes, they were right. It behoved her to make amends.

  Shortly after luncheon, a rap sounded at the front door, followed by voices, and Symes announced that Major Wellworth had arrived and requested an audience with them.

  “Show him into the parlour, Symes. We shall be with him shortly,” Aunt Lavinia said.

  They joined the Major. Dark shadows underscored his eyes, evidence that he had spent as sleepless a night as Amelia. He faced her, his shoulders set in a stiff line, as though he fronted a court martial and expected a hanging judgement.

  Aunt Lavinia greeted him cordially, then said to Amelia, “I shall leave it to you to explain yourself to the Major. You have about ten minutes while I reply to some correspondence, then we must attend the Christmas service.”

  Guilt weighed heavy like a ship’s ballast in the tempest that raged in Amelia’s stomach. She turned to Adam. “I owe you an apology for my behaviour. I should never have made comment about your age and infirmity. It was rude and unladylike. I’ve concluded that had I been in the same situation of being roundly disparaged, I would not have admitted I was the so-named person.”

  Adam’s shoulders sagged, and for the first time since his arrival a smile tugged his lips out of their set line. In four brisk strides, he crossed the room to take her hand in his. “You have forgiven me for my cowardly deception?”

  “That is not how I view your actions, but I can forgive you ... if you overlook my behaviour?”

  He squeezed her hand and with emotion, said, “There is nothing to overlook.”

  She sighed with relief.

  His eyes were lit by some inner glow. “So, Miss Fortescue, have I overcome your conception of me as an old man? I confess to turning thirty on New Year’s Day. Not so old, I would have thought, although much older than your twenty years. As for being maimed—that is true. A musket ball broke my thigh bone and the sawbones had to do some digging to get it out. My leg still gives me hell, but it’s on the mend. Pardon my language.”

  Amelia’s cheeks flamed. He remembered everything she had said. “I was wrong, and I apologise for the insulting way in which I spoke of you. It was unworthy of me. You were injured in a noble cause.”

  “You are completely forgiven.” He raised her hand to his lips.

  Her heart melted at his tender touch. “What must you think of me … of my parents … of us?”

  “That you have quite typical parents who want a husband for their daughter. And need a financial boost for their reserves.”

  “I’m glad you can see their behaviour in such an understanding way.”

  “I do, and I wish you, and your great-aunt, would return with me to Wellworth Park to attend the New Year’s Eve ball.”

  Aunt Lavinia swept into the room. “Did I hear an invitation to a ball? I, for one, would love to attend, but I shall leave it to Amelia to decide.”

  It was so tempting. She glanced at her great-aunt before directing her answer to him. “We would be delighted.”

  “I hope you’ll both enjoy your stay at Wellworth Park. There are many activities for your amusement.” An open smile of encouragement lit his face.

  “I’m sure we shall,” Aunt Lavinia agreed.

  “When do we depart?” Amelia asked.

  “The morning of New Year’s Eve should be soon enough. My mother will have the organising well in hand.”

  Amelia drew a deep breath to quell the queasiness in her stomach. She had to be forthright with him from now on. “I have one more thing to ask, Major Wellworth.”

  “Of course, but aren’t we well enough acquainted for you to call me Adam?”

  They were inching closer with every minute they spent together. She nodded. “And you should call me Amelia.”

  He flashed a brief smile. “How may I be of service, Amelia?”

  “Can you assist me in making my parents understand my wishes?”

  “I am more than willing to do so.”

  “I will try to convince them to allow me to marry whom I choose. If I fail again, surely all you need to do is not offer for me.”

  He gave her a long look, then a resigned smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Of course. You can’t be forced to marry me unless I offer for you. Relax and enjoy the ball at Wellworth Park. There will be visitors from the neighbourhood, whom I’m sure you will find welcoming.” He hesitated, then said, “Should I propose at the New Year’s Eve ball, I would prefer you did not accept, if you were not fully committed to sharing your life with me.”

  She heard him with mixed emotions—gratitude that he wished only for her happiness, and that he was willing to assist her to defy her parents, and yet a contrary disappointment at the same time, in his willingness to assist her in escaping the alliance. She doubted now that a proposal would ever be made.

  “In the meantime, Miss Fortescue, let us start again. Over the next few days, would you show me all the sights of Bath, so I may enjoy them through the eyes of a long-term resident? I lacked that assistance when I last visited and fear I experienced only the most commonplace.”

  “Of course. But right now I want to know who you are, Major Wellworth—not what you own or your income. I want to know your interests, your hopes, and your dreams.” She took his hand and led him to the chaise longue angled towards the fireplace lit by a blazing Yule log.

  “Tell me of your past, starting with your time in the army and ending when we met. What have you learned during that time?”

  He studied her face, as though making a decision, then sucked in a breath as he briefly closed his eyes. “I served in Portugal and Spain with Wellington for four years, then sold out and returned to England to, I thought, my old life as a gentleman banker. I wanted a normal life, with a wife and a family. So, I began my campaign in Bath during its winter season. As you know, I met Lady Lavinia, and of course, I already knew the Colonel from my earliest years in the army. I found no-one to engage my interest here, so on I went to London for the Season.” He took her hand in his. “It was there that I saw you, Miss Fortescue—during the Little Season. You took my breath away.”

  That can’t possibly be true. An incredulous chuckle escaped her. “You’re exaggerating, Major. Do not try flattery on me.”

  A frown of confusion crinkled his brow. “I do not. Let me explain. I attended Lady Preston’s ball. It was a huge crush, even for so early in the Season. There was a row of debutants in their finest white gowns lined up with the chaperones around the room. They were the bespectacled, the plain, and the shy. I danced with one, Miss Anne Briggs. When I asked her how she was enjoying the evening, she said, ‘The highlights of this evening are dancing with you and the kindness of Miss Fortescue.’”

  “Curious to know more, I enquired what kindness you had effected. She said you had a special way of knowing when someone was shy and awkward, and that you drew them into a discussion and made them feel as though they were the most marvellous conversationalist. And that you introduced gentlemen to them and somehow compelled them to offer to dance.”

  “Those acts of kindness weren’t the usual ones of a debutant in competition for a husband. After that commendation, I was intrigued. I watched you for the remainder of the evening. And she was right. You spent all your time talking with the wallflowers and encouraging the young gentlemen who came to offer to dance with you, to instead dance with whichever young lady with whom you were currently conversing.”

  “That is an exaggeration! Of course I talked with my fellow debutants, and isn’t it the objective of a ball to introduce and be introduced to eligible parties?”

  He bowed in acknowledgement of the truth of her statement. “But not usually to the detriment of one’s own dance card, I would suggest, Miss Fortescue.”

  “Oh, I didn’t take during the season. My only real admirers were those wealthy cits seeking to improve their social standing through marriage, and none
of them impressed me. Why did you not ask me to dance, Major?”

  “I spent that first evening doing reconnaissance on you, Miss Fortescue. It was my plan to seek an introduction through your parents at the next event we attended, but alas, Bonaparte got in the way by escaping from Elba. It was all the news the next day. Knowing that most of Wellington’s Peninsular army was dispersed across the world, I joined another regiment and set sail for Belgium.”

  “You were willing to risk your life and your family’s future prospects again?”

  “Preventing Bonaparte retaking Europe was a far more important cause to me. It took so many years to overcome his rule. So many lives were lost and so much suffering created by him. I could not bear to think of that happening again.”

  Such a sense of duty and self-sacrifice was rare.

  “You know the rest of that story. I was injured at Waterloo and convalesced at Wellworth Park. The images of you that evening, and my thwarted wish to meet you, were my motivation to recover. When I did, I returned to London and immediately sought out your parents. Your father was adamant that only a very substantial settlement would induce him to consider my suit and even permit me, a banker’s son, to be introduced to you.”

  Oh, that is too cruel and mercenary, even for him! Amelia placed her hand on Adam’s arm in sympathy. “I apologise sincerely for my father’s behaviour.”

  “There is no need. He was only doing what was right for you and his family interests.”

  “Oh, do not excuse him! I’m mortified by his behaviour.”

  “It does not matter. In the end, we came to an agreement, that you and your parents were to come to Wellworth Park for the Christmas week so that we could be introduced and get to know each other. There was to be no talk of marriage at such an early stage in our acquaintance! I wanted you to meet my parents and see my home, as well as to get to know me, so that if I could engage your affections, then you could make an informed decision about what your future life with me would be like.”

 

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