by Tuft, Karen
“You were with me,” she said when their lips eventually parted. “I saw you, I think. I know I heard you.”
“As much as I could, I stayed by your side.” He held out his arm for her. “The family is waiting for you to join us for luncheon. Shall we?”
“Yes, please. I am starving!”
Anthony laughed. “That is the best thing I have heard in days.”
Amelia slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, relishing his steadiness and support since she was a bit shaky on her legs. When they reached the dining room, the entire family was there. Lord Farleigh and Lucas rose from their seats, and Lady Ashworth and Louisa beamed at her. Lady Walmsley was there as well, seated near Lord Ashworth, who was at the head of the table.
Lord Ashworth rose and came forward to greet her. “My dear Miss Clarke, how pleased we are to see you looking so well.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Or may I call you Amelia since you are to be my daughter soon?”
“I should like that very much,” she said, touched by his words. “Thank you.”
Anthony shot a grateful look to his father and led Amelia to an empty seat next to Farleigh, who reseated himself, and then Anthony took the vacant seat on the other side of her.
“Did Anthony tell you?” Louisa asked. “About the duel?”
Amelia turned to look at Anthony in alarm.
“Louisa, please,” Lady Ashworth said. “Such topics should not be discussed at table. A person would think I did not teach you better manners!”
“But, Mama, what Anthony did was ever so dashing and romantic!”
“Young women’s fancies were ever thus,” Lady Walmsley said, a faraway look in her eye. “I remember a few times when men came to blows over me.”
“Did you marry one of them?” Louisa asked.
“Heavens, no, child!” Lady Walmsley exclaimed. “It is one thing to have young men fall at one’s feet with ardor, but one simply does not marry them.”
Amelia heard a choked sound from Farleigh, which he nearly successfully hid behind his napkin.
“Although,” the old lady added wistfully, “Walmsley was a passionate man—quite exciting, really . . . and we grew very fond of each other in time.”
“Duel?” Amelia asked a bit more shrilly. She had a fuzzy memory of Anthony talking about justice, but nothing more, and the idea of Anthony fighting a duel was terrifying. Besides, she already knew more than she truly needed to know about Lord and Lady Walmsley’s marriage.
“Oh dear,” Lady Ashworth said. “Poor Amelia will not be able to eat in peace now, thanks to you, Louisa. You may as well tell her, Anthony.”
He reached for her hand under the table. “There is nothing to say,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “The duke has been dealt with adequately to meet the demands of honor and justice, my dear. If you wish to know more, I will tell you when we have a little more privacy.”
“I do not wish to wait, Anthony,” Amelia said, raising her chin indignantly. “Apparently I slept through some fairly important events. I believe I have the right to know what everyone else at the table knows. Especially when the word duel is used in context with your name.”
“I do believe our Miss Clarke is going to make a fine countess, Lady Ashworth,” Lord Ashworth observed to his wife. “See how she is already taking our son in hand.”
“I believe you are right, husband,” Lady Ashworth said.
“As she should.” Lady Walmsley nodded. “I shudder to think what Walmsley would have got up to had I not put the fear of God into him.”
“The lady is a terror,” Lucas said.
“I know when I am beaten,” Anthony said, a twinkle in his eye. “Very well, Amelia. Yes, I challenged the duke to a duel. I had to do something, you see. I was not given the chance to prevail in Spain. But you, even in your drugged and wounded state, would not let me seek vengeance and made me promise I would not. The duke, therefore, is only wounded, not dead. And you are magnificent, my dear, down to your very core.
“But that will have to suffice as an explanation, for right now I would have you eat and build up your strength. My priority is to see you returned to full health so I may use the special license that has been burning a hole in my pocket for the last few weeks. What do you say, my love?” He gazed into her eyes, and Amelia saw the same expression there that she was certain was on her own face.
“I say yes,” she replied, her heart full.
“I say hear, hear!” Farleigh cried, raising his glass. “Here’s to Tony and his lovely bride-to-be!”
They all happily joined in the toast.
Chapter 20
It was Amelia’s wedding day. She still had trouble believing Anthony Hargreaves, Earl of Halford, had chosen her as his bride. He was everything she could have hoped for in a husband: a man of strength and character, like her father had been.
Anthony had cared about the citizens of Badajoz, caught between two armies, and had done what he could to protect them—with much personal cost to himself. And he had defended Amelia against one of the highest peers of the land.
He had chosen her.
And she had chosen him, she told herself as she dressed, and she would spend the rest of her life as his companion, striving to be his support and doing what she could to make him happy. She would gladly give him heirs—and daughters too—and together make life better for those around them.
As her parents had done before her.
“Oh, miss,” Jane said. “You look pretty as a picture. Lord Halford won’t be able to take his eyes off you, and that’s a fact.”
“Thank you, Jane. Once again, you have outdone yourself.” Jane had styled her hair into a work of art, as far as Amelia was concerned, viewing it with the help of a second mirror.
She removed the beautiful emerald earrings Anthony had given her the day before from her treasure box and put them on.
Her eyes lingered on the watch and brooch. Oh, but she wished her parents could be here on her special day! Oh, how she missed them!
She took out the pocket watch. Her wedding gown, a delicate muslin with a floral pattern embroidered along the hem and across the bodice, was too delicate to hide a man’s watch in a pocket beneath it. She replaced it in the box. She would wear the brooch though. Her father would understand.
Removing the brooch from the box, she pinned it in the center of her bodice, where the fabric gathered under her breasts and attached to the skirt. The ornate jewels sparkled brightly and matched her new earrings surprisingly well.
It was the perfect finishing touch.
Lady Ashworth and Louisa bustled into the room, Louisa’s expectant belly protruding more each day.
Perhaps someday soon Amelia would look like that, she thought. The idea of carrying Anthony’s child gave her great pleasure.
“We had to see you before we left for the church,” Lady Ashworth said. She reached out and took both of Amelia’s hands in her own, inspecting her from head to foot. “You look gorgeous, my dear. Oh, Amelia!” The marchioness kissed first one cheek and then the other. “You are to be my daughter! I am thrilled. You have been like a daughter since the first day you arrived at Ashworth Park.”
“Indeed I cannot think of anyone I would rather have as a sister,” Louisa said. “You look stunning. I am quite jealous, you know, considering my waistline has abandoned me completely these days.”
“You look beautiful,” Amelia said. “Radiant in anticipation of a blessed event.”
“And it cannot come soon enough for me,” Louisa said.
“But not today!” her mother exclaimed.
They all laughed, and the two ladies left for the church, as did Jane. The Ashworths had given the staff time to attend the wedding, although they would be bustling back afterward to finish preparations for the wedding feast that was to follow. Amelia had wanted them at the
ceremony.
She wished the servants at Ashworth Park, whom she had worked alongside for so long, could be here today as well. But she would see them soon enough. After their honeymoon, Anthony and she would return to Ashworth Park and hold a celebration there. A celebration that would be for the returning heir, healthy and whole of heart this time, and his new wife.
She took a last glance in the mirror, patted a stray hair into place, and went to meet the Marquess of Ashworth, whom she had asked to give her away.
He stood at the bottom of the stairway now, looking every bit the aristocrat, tall and elegant in his formal wear. He, like his son, was much healthier now. Amelia was glad. She hoped her new father-in-law would be around for years to come, bouncing grandchildren on his knee, enjoying them and the prospect of his posterity and family name continuing.
He watched her descend the staircase, smiling at her like a proud father, and made her want to weep.
“Are you ready?” he asked when she reached him.
“I am,” she said.
* * *
Anthony sat on the front pew of the church, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his father and his bride. Lucas, serving as best man, sat next to him. His mother, along with Farleigh and Louisa and little Will and Penny, sat together in the pew across the aisle, Lady Walmsley with them.
The church was filled to capacity. Friends of the family had come out in great numbers to support them. Kit and Phillip were there, as were Hugh and Sir Richard. So were the curious onlookers, of course, those who wanted to see the man who had challenged a duke to a duel, the news of which was still making the rounds in the gossip sheets and being whispered about at ladies’ teas and in the gentlemen’s clubs.
No one had seen the Duke of Marwood since the duel, and it had been reported that he had fled the country to avoid his many creditors. The Duchess of Marwood and Lady Elizabeth had quit London for their country estate as a result. Anthony truly felt sorry for Lady Elizabeth, who had done nothing except be true to herself. He was less sympathetic toward the duchess, considering the slanders she had spread at the ball about Amelia. As for the duke himself, Anthony prayed the man would never show his face in England again.
He would not dwell on the matter any further, however, for today was his wedding day, a day that allowed for only the best of thoughts and hope for a bright future. A day that during his darkest hours in Spain he could never have imagined would occur.
A murmur began to make its way forward from the back of the church, and Anthony turned to look.
What he saw took his breath away.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood at the back, dressed from head to toe in an exquisite pale gown and accompanied by his father.
Anthony could not look away. He stood and moved into place by the altar, Lucas at his side.
The organ music began, and Amelia began her walk up the aisle, her eyes only for Anthony. But when she was nearly to him, he heard a gasp and broke his gaze long enough to see that Lady Walmsley was in some sort of distress, her face pale, looking as though she had seen a ghost.
Amelia stopped. Anthony waited, his heart in his throat. Please do not let something happen to stop the marriage from occurring, he prayed. Not now. Not after all that has happened.
Louisa turned to attend to Lady Walmsley, who then seemed to assure Louisa that she was fine. Amelia’s gaze returned to Anthony’s.
Anthony smiled and nodded slightly, encouraging her in the only way he could to continue toward him. She took a deep breath—so did Anthony, in relief—and made her way up the rest of the aisle with Lord Ashworth, who kissed her hand and left to sit beside his wife.
Anthony took Amelia’s hands in his, and the vicar began.
* * *
They had spoken the words, made the vows, and dutifully signed the register, and now Amelia, the new Mrs. Anthony Hargreaves, was in a gaily decorated open carriage, waving farewell to the wedding guests who had poured out of the church doors. Anthony was tossing coins to the laughing children racing along beside them.
She was Mrs. Anthony Hargreaves. She was also the Countess of Halford. Both new titles were full of challenges and responsibilities, and she found herself looking forward to it all.
“I wonder what was wrong with Lady Walmsley?” Anthony said when the last coins had been tossed and they were finally out of sight of the well-wishers.
“I do not know,” Amelia said. “I smiled at her when I reached her pew—then it happened. I am anxious to speak to her when we get back to the house.”
“In the meantime,” Anthony said, shifting closer to her. “I believe I would like to kiss my wife.”
Amelia looked around her. They were in an open carriage, and while they had left everyone behind, they were still out in public.
“You look terrified,” he said, chuckling and sliding his arm around her to bring her closer to him. “But you see, I ended up leg-shackled due to a public display of affection. I think it only appropriate that the behavior that brought me such good fortune be allowed to continue.” He removed his hat with one hand and used it to block the view from behind while he placed his other hand under Amelia’s chin, bringing her face forward to receive his kiss.
She closed her eyes, and soon she was lost in the feel of his lips, his smooth, warm skin, and the blended scents of shaving soap and cologne.
Much too soon, in Amelia’s opinion, they arrived at Ashworth House.
“Welcome home, my lord, my lady,” Gibbs said when they descended from the carriage. How odd it was to Amelia to be referred to that way.
“After you, my lady,” Anthony said, winking roguishly at her as he handed Gibbs his hat.
“That sounds so strange,” she said. “I think I prefer Amelia to such nonsense.”
“And that is precisely why I love you,” Anthony said. “Although you will have to grow used to the title, as it has its place in Society and our lives.”
“I understand that, and I shall endeavor to do so,” she said.
He wrapped her in his arms. “Know this too,” he whispered, his warm breath teasing her ear. “You will always be my lady. My heart.” He pressed his lips to her throat. “My wife. Would that I could make you entirely mine right now, but there is a wedding feast to be had first. I desire you intensely, Lady Halford.”
“And I you,” she told him. “My heart. My husband.”
The rest of the family arrived in short order, along with all those who had been invited to celebrate the day with them.
“Oh, my dears,” Lady Ashworth said, kissing them both on the cheeks. “It is done! And how happy I am for you both!”
“Welcome to the family, Lady Halford,” Farleigh said, jostling a wriggly Penny on his hip while Will danced merrily at his side.
“You are my Aunt Amelia now,” Will said emphatically. “It is what my papa said, so it must be true.”
“Meela!” Penny shouted gleefully. “Meela! Meela!”
“I simply must work to expand her vocabulary,” Anthony said with a grin. “I have yet to hear her say Uncle Tony.”
“It is because I am her favorite,” Amelia replied archly.
“Undoubtedly that is true,” Anthony said. “I know for a fact you are mine.”
“I am so happy for you both, I shall cry!” Louisa said, throwing herself into Anthony’s arms and then hugging Amelia. “Where is my handkerchief when I need it?”
Farleigh managed to extricate his own handkerchief and hand it to her while still keeping control of little Penny.
Perhaps one day Anthony would cultivate such a useful skill, Amelia thought wistfully.
The banquet had been set up in the music room, a fairly large space intended to accommodate recitals or amateur theatrical productions; it was the perfect size to hold everyone who would be in attendance. As the guests arrived, they were direct
ed there, where she and Anthony waited together to greet them.
Amelia could not get the picture of Lady Walmsley’s stricken face out of her mind, and it troubled her. She knew she would not be able to fully enjoy herself until she was certain her friend was all right. When Lady Walmsley arrived, Amelia separated herself from Anthony and went directly over to her.
“I must speak to you,” Lady Walmsley said, staring at the brooch on Amelia’s bodice. “Somewhere private, please.”
“Of course.” Amelia shot a worried glance at Anthony, and he hurried over.
“We need a private place to talk,” Amelia said.
“Certainly, my dear,” he said. He left briefly to whisper their whereabouts in his mother’s ear and then returned to them. “Follow me.”
He led them down the hall to a small room and assisted Lady Walmsley to a chair there. When she was settled, Amelia and Anthony sat across from her and waited until she was ready to speak.
“I must know,” Lady Walmsley said, her voice quivering, “where you got that brooch.”
Amelia’s hand immediately rose to cover it protectively. “It was my mother’s. It is the only thing I have left of hers of any value. Why?”
“May I see it? Hold it?”
Amelia clutched the brooch, for some reason reluctant to let it leave her possession. Lady Walmsley’s face was so contorted with pain, however, that Amelia unpinned it and handed it to her.
The woman studied it closely, bringing it near her face and looking at it through her quizzing glass. She traced the colorful design created artfully by the gems with her finger.
“It is rare, you know,” Lady Walmsley said. “And I never thought to see it again.”
Amelia began to tremble.
“What are you talking about, Lady Walmsley?” Anthony asked. “Where could you have seen this before? It was Amelia’s mother’s, as she said, undoubtedly given to her by her father and most likely one of the Clarke-Hammond jewels. You could not possibly have encountered it anywhere.”