A Common Scandal (18 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Amelia had saved her favorite new gown for tonight. It was cream taffeta, printed all over with pink roses. A frothy lace underskirt matched the deep lace ruffles at her shoulders. She loved the way she felt in it and resolved to enjoy the evening as much as she possibly could, despite the circumstances.

The moment Amelia stepped foot in the Tewsmere ballroom, Cheadle was upon her, begging for the first dance. And with no other offers to forestall him, she was forced to grant it. She reluctantly placed her gloved fingers in his hand and let him lead her to the floor. The ballroom was not particularly large or luxurious but it was full of people ready to enjoy themselves. Everybody from the house party was in attendance, as well as a number of local families, and Lord Tewsbury had brought a string quartet in for the evening.

Finding herself immediately paired with Mr. Cheadle for the quadrille threatened to ruin her evening entirely. Nate was in the grouping, too, and partnering Evelyn, which cheered her up a bit, but not enough to make up for Cheadle’s obsequious smiles and overly familiar hands. Julia was there, too, partnered with Radwill, along with Will Thistlethwaite and a girl from the neighboring estate.

It was only one dance. She’d endure it and endeavor to avoid him for the rest of the evening. As he swung her into the steps with enthusiasm but very little grace, she thought it might be harder to manage than she thought.

“It was thoughtful of Lord Tewsbury to arrange this little entertainment for his guests,” Cheadle said as he rubbed his thumb across the palm of her hand slowly.

“Yes, it was.”

“The guests seem delighted.”

“They do.” Amelia kept her answers as short as possible.

“You look exquisite this evening, Miss Wheeler.”

“Thank you.”

“That dress is quite flattering on you.”

“It’s new.”

“I see...” He stammered, finally at a loss. She had no intention of helping him out.

The quadrille slogged along. They separated and she momentarily held Nate’s hands as they made their turn. He gave her a conspiratorial smile before sending her back across to Cheadle. Beastly man.

“Will your father travel back on Saturday to escort you home?” Cheadle tried again.

“I’m to travel home with Lord Hyde and Lady Julia.”

“How delightful.”

“Hmm.” Now she wasn’t even bothering to respond with words and still he persisted.

“Are you still as unsettled as you were last night?”

Her thoughts wheeled wildly. Had he seen her with Nate? Without meaning to, her eyes frantically sought Nate across the set, but he was turned away, talking to Evelyn. “Last night?” she whispered weakly.

“When you left the garden so abruptly, I assumed you were unwell.”

“Left.” He must have thought she went back inside when she ran away from him. “Oh yes. I had a little headache. Too much sun, I suppose.”

“Are you recovered?”

“Quite.”

The quadrille drew to a welcome conclusion and Amelia made to turn away, but Cheadle tightened his grip on her hand. “Miss Wheeler, please allow me the waltz, as well.”

“I’m afraid Miss Wheeler has promised
me
the waltz,” Nate said, plucking Amelia’s hand from Cheadle’s grasp and smoothly inserting himself between them. “For old time’s sake.”

He smiled down at her and winked. Amelia smiled back. “Yes, of course. For old time’s sake.”

“Naturally,” Cheadle snapped before making his way off the dance floor.

Being in Nate’s arms was as different as it was possible for the experience to be and still be considered dancing. His hand fitted perfectly into the dip of her waist, the fingers of his other hand curling around hers, warm and familiar. When he pulled her in close, she only wanted to get closer, to nestle up against him and never move. When the quartet struck up the waltz and they began to move, she had an answer for Evelyn—Nate danced beautifully. It was hardly surprising, as athletic and agile as he was. Being swept around the room, secure in his arms, was almost like flying.

“Your opium addict dancing instructor did quite a good job with you,” she observed.

Nate laughed. “I can’t credit him with that much. I hired a proper dancing teacher a few years ago. It seemed a necessary skill in the social circles I’d ascended to.”

“You’re quite good.”

“I suppose it’s all in having the right partner.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and in other, less proper parts of her body.

She cleared her throat. “It was very good of you to dance with Evelyn. She needed a bit of support today.”

“Evelyn? That girl is fearless.”

“Don’t let her fool you. She was distressed by Tony’s behavior last night. Then he ignored her from the moment he entered the room tonight. She’s mortified, poor thing. She’s probably more grateful to you than you realize.”

“Amelia, don’t tell me you’ve developed a soft spot for Evelyn Sanbourne.”

“What if I have? She’s not so bad when she’s away from Kitty’s influence. She needed someone to talk to and a bit of advice. I was glad I could help her.”

“It was good of you to do it,” Nate said quietly.

The waltz was nearly over, and it wouldn’t do to dance with Nate more than this once. This was likely the only chance she’d have her whole life to dance with him and it was almost past. She didn’t say anything more, focusing on the steps, on his hand holding hers, his palm pressed to the small of her back. The waltz would never be the same.

“Another dance?” he murmured as the music ended.

“We can’t. You know that.”

She heard him sigh, felt his breath brush her temple, but she didn’t look at his face. “I know it.”

“Go ask Julia. Everyone’s expecting it.”

Nate was silent. He squeezed her fingers, clinging to her for a moment, before releasing her hand and turning away without another word. She stood at the side of the room, refusing to look for him, and in a moment, as she expected, Lord Radwill appeared at her side, asking for her hand in the next dance. She felt herself smiling, heard herself respond pleasantly, but she felt absolutely nothing as he led her to the floor.

* * *

Nate did seek out Julia for the next dance, but Evelyn informed him she had taken a breather in the parlor and he wasn’t at all sorry to hear it. He’d rather stand alone at the edge of the room and torment himself watching Amelia dance with Radwill than dance with the woman he intended to propose to tonight.

Radwill was doing a passably decent job of steering Amelia about the dance floor, and Amelia was exhibiting all the superficial signs of interest in her partner, smiling and responding to his questions. But he knew those eyes and the fire had gone out in them. He could barely stand to look at her, the image of Amelia, but nothing of the vibrant woman inside. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to look away, either.

“Just look at him. The bloody little bitch seems to have utterly ensnared Radwill.” Cheadle’s hissed whisper came from the other side of the column to Nate’s left. “It’s going to take some doing to turn her head from him. He’s the heir to an earl, and already sitting on a pretty courtesy title.”

Nate had already taken a step forward, hands fisted and ready to teach Cheadle a long overdue lesson in respecting a lady when Cheadle’s companion spoke. Morley.

“Seems to me Radwill isn’t your biggest worry. He’s a bit smitten, but he’s not the one who makes her eyes light up. Your real problem, Cheadle, is Smythe.”

Dread froze him in his tracks, unable to do anything more than listen to the rest of their whispered exchange.

“
Smythe?
He’s a tradesman!”

“I suspect Miss Wheeler don’t mind that so much. His business dealings aren’t where her interests lie, if you know what I mean.”

Had they been found out? Had Morley seen them together?

“What do you know?” Cheadle pressed. Nate strained to hear Morley’s answer.

“Nothing, at present. But I got eyes and I seen the way they look at each other. You ask me, it’s only a matter of time. Move fast, Cheadle. She’s tired of waiting.”

“Tell her she has to be patient! It’s a delicate negotiation and I’m bloody well doing my best.”

“Tell her yourself,” Morley snapped. “Get it done or I’ll be telling everyone about it.”

Footsteps retreated. Morley had left Cheadle alone. Nate exhaled slowly. Good Lord, they’d been wildly indiscreet if
Morley
, of all people, had noted their interactions. And what the bloody hell was Morley’s interest in any of this? Cheadle was pursuing Amelia for purely mercenary reasons, it was no great secret. But why was Morley so invested in his success? And who was this mysterious “she” they both referred to, who also seemed to have some interest in Cheadle’s pursuit of Amelia? It all hinted at something darker than Nate had originally suspected. Amelia had to take care. Cheadle seemed more than a little desperate, and desperate men did desperate things.

But he was not the man to protect her. It was impossible. Perversely, he had to hope Radwill issued his proposal soon, for then she’d be out of Cheadle’s reach and under the protection of her fiancé. There was absolutely nothing Nate could do for her that wouldn’t make her situation worse.

No, that wasn’t quite true. His interest in Amelia had raised dangerous suspicions. Those suspicions could be swiftly laid to rest with one action from him. He knew he had to do it, but he’d been stalling, unwilling to separate himself from Amelia once and for all. But now it was the one thing he could do to protect her reputation, to leave the path clear for Radwill to offer his hand and protect her from Cheadle’s machinations. He had to ask Julia to marry him tonight. There wasn’t another moment to spare.

He found Julia talking with Lady Tewsbury, Lady Spalding and Lady Watting. She was remarkably good at making idle chitchat about things she held no interest in. If Amelia was trapped in conversation with that bunch, she’d look positively mutinous. Julia chattered away about Lady Tewsbury’s new ballroom draperies as if she had no other interests on earth. She’d make a good wife, smoothing his way into the upper reaches of Society, her breeding and manners washing over whatever social deficiencies his money didn’t make up for. He couldn’t make a better, more logical choice, and yet his heart felt heavier with every step he took in her direction.

When he joined them, Lady Tewsbury attempted to draw him into the conversation, but Nate resisted with a smile.

“I only came to see if I might escort Lady Julia to the punch bowl for a refreshment.”

Julia brightened and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “How kind of you, Mr. Smythe. I was feeling rather parched.”

“Don’t let us keep you, my dear,” Lady Tewsbury said, her eyes flashing with glee. A proposal occurring at her house party would surely be a feather in her cap, the sort of thing she could gossip about for months to come.

Nate made his bows to the company and led Julia across the ballroom. All eyes were upon them, and he could feel the expectations rise around him. After the week he’d spent in her company, singling Julia out, escorting her about the room like this, was tantamount to a declaration. All he had to do was actually make it.

He retrieved her punch and spent a few moments as she sipped it trying to marshal his courage. “Julia, if you’re not too fatigued, I thought we might take a brief turn around the garden.”

“Oh. All right. If you’d like.”

He scowled. Surely she knew what was coming. He thought she’d express a bit more enthusiasm, perhaps shoot him a knowing smile...
something
.

“After you.” He motioned her through the open French doors and out onto the terrace. There were a few shallow steps leading down into the garden, which had seen such heated activity the night before. Resolutely, Nate thrust the memory of it away. That was all over with now. Julia was his future, and Amelia’s security.

They walked a little way down a path in silence, Nate grasping for the right words to speak to get things underway.

“Would you like to sit?” He motioned to a stone bench under a wooden arbor draped in wisteria vines. What a very romantic setting.

“If you would.”

He couldn’t sit. There was too much panic and anxiety rampaging through his limbs. Instead, he paced back and forth across the small, leafy alcove. Julia looked up at him, waiting for him to say something. He swallowed hard and came to stand before her.

“Julia, you must know what I mean to say.”

“I have some idea.”

Nate closed his eyes, and banished every thought of shining black curls and flashing dark eyes. On an exhale, he shoved the words out in a jumble. “Would you do me the great honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

He opened his eyes. Julia was staring up at him, her fine golden eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pardon?” she said.

“Will you marry me?” he said, clearer this time, leaving no room for confusion.

“But... I mean...” Julia stood up abruptly, clutching her hands together at her waist. “I don’t understand. You want to
marry
me?”

“Well...” He couldn’t very well tell her marrying her was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. “Yes?”

“Oh, no,” Julia said, shaking her head vigorously. “I can’t marry you. I don’t intend to marry
anyone
.”

Now Nate was the one who was confused. “I don’t understand. I thought you admired me. You said you did.”

“I
do
admire you. You have the finest understanding of the shipping business in the whole of Britain.”

“You’re right. I do.”

“I know it well. And if you’ve done so well with fifteen ships, imagine what you could do with another thirty.”

“I have imagined it,” Nate confessed. “I’ve imagined managing those ships for some time.”

“So have I,” Julia said, raising her chin in challenge. There was something steely and calculating in her voice, a businesslike tone Nate had previously attributed to some quirk of her personality. But something was rapidly becoming clear to him. She didn’t
sound
businesslike. She was
conducting
business.