Authors: Amanda Weaver
Chapter Twenty-One
Nate came to sit with Beatrice and Amelia again the next day, reading aloud to Mrs. Wheeler as she rested on her couch. She was still unfailingly polite to him, and Amelia suspected in time she might resign herself to their marriage, but she’d always see it as a failure instead of something glorious to celebrate. Wanting everyone to be as happy as she was might be selfish, reaching for too much, but she still held out hope she could make it happen somehow.
Roberts, their butler, cleared his throat quietly at the door.
“What is it, Roberts?” Beatrice asked.
“A Lady Leath has come to see you, madam. I told her you were not receiving guests today but she insisted you be notified of her presence.”
Her mother went still. Like her sister yesterday, she seemed unable to speak or move. Amelia flashed a glance at Nate, who gave her an encouraging smile and nodded.
“Mama? Shall I have Roberts show her up?”
“Oh...” Beatrice gave a small, nervous gasp.
“Roberts,” Amelia said. “Explain to Lady Leath that Mother is unable to receive her downstairs in the parlor, but if she wishes to visit her sitting room, you may show her in.”
Nate unfolded himself from the armchair situated next to Beatrice’s couch. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see myself out.”
Amelia stood and followed him to the door. “Don’t go. I’ll be down in a little while.”
He smiled. “This is promising.”
“Don’t get too excited. She didn’t say a word when I called on her yesterday so I have no idea what she’s come here for today. If she’s only come to be rude, I’ll have to toss her out on her ear.”
Nate glanced over her shoulder at Beatrice, who was anxiously working her handkerchief through her trembling fingers. “Somehow I doubt that’s why she’s come.” He ducked to kiss her cheek and left. Amelia returned to her mother’s side, perching on the edge of her couch and taking one of her hands in hers.
“Lady Leath,” Roberts said from the doorway. He stepped aside and ushered the woman in. She was as well dressed as she’d always been when Amelia had seen her, today in a sleek, pale gray wool walking suit edged with darker gray braid. She’d left her hat and gloves downstairs. Her blond hair was artfully arranged around her pale face.
Her mother stared at her, apparently still speechless. Amelia stood. “Lady Leath, this is a surprise,” she said, with a slight edge to her voice. “Do come in.”
She indicated the armchair Nate had vacated.
“I apologize for not receiving you downstairs. Mother isn’t feeling well.”
“Yes, I heard,” Lady Leath murmured, taking in Beatrice’s appearance with a shocked expression. It had been years since her mother had been out socially at all, so she’d never moved in Lady Leath’s circles the way Amelia did. The viscountess hadn’t seen her sister since she’d eloped.
Beatrice cleared her throat and finally managed to speak.
“Lady Leath, what brings you here?”
Amelia silently applauded her mother. She knew how much she wanted this reunion, but she wasn’t going to throw herself at her sister and beg for it.
Lady Leath glanced at Amelia. “I had a visit from your daughter yesterday to inform me of her upcoming marriage.”
Beatrice looked up at Amelia in shock. She shrugged. “I was going to tell you about it later.”
“Was that the gentleman I met coming down the stairs?” Lady Leath asked.
“Yes,” Amelia replied. “That’s Mr. Smythe.” She said his name—a mere ‘mister’—as a challenge to her aunt, but Lady Leath only smiled tremulously.
“He’s quite handsome.”
“I think so.” Amelia wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. Perhaps confronting the issue head-on was best. That always got the job done. “Lady Leath, I confess I’m surprised to see you here today. Lord Leath’s reaction to my visit yesterday was rather unpleasant.”
Lady Leath’s eyes dropped to her lap and she suddenly looked much younger than her years. “Yes, I have to apologize for Lord Leath. There was no call for him to treat you in such a way.”
“Well, I did hurl some rather insulting accusations at both of you. I suppose I had it coming.”
“What did you say that wasn’t true?” Her voice had dropped to nearly a whisper and when she looked up again, there were tears in her pale blue eyes. “Oh, Bea, can you ever forgive me?”
“Forgive you?” Beatrice asked.
“I was horrible to you, and then I stayed away all this time. I have a niece fully grown and about to marry and I hadn’t exchanged a word with her until she came and confronted me. I’m so ashamed.”
“Bertha—”
“No, please let me finish. My actions are unforgivable, but I feel like I should explain myself all the same. I was only sixteen when you eloped with Mr. Wheeler. I was young, impressionable and I’ve always been the sort to wish for approval. Our father was so angry. You weren’t there to see it, Bea, but his temper was terrifying. He ranted for days about the disgrace you’d brought down on us all.” Lady Leath paused long enough to draw in a shaking breath before continuing. “You remember what he was like. So stern and severe. It never occurred to me to question him. He said you’d done wrong, so I thought it must be so. The next year he brought around Lord Leath. He was a great deal older than me and just as proud, just as judgmental as Father. I was quite afraid of him. But Father said we were lucky he was willing to marry me after your scandal. I did as I was told. I married him at seventeen. At the time I was proud of myself. I felt as if I’d saved our family’s good name. They both told me I had.
“I confess, I agreed with them. I didn’t know any better and that was before I was acquainted with the difficulties of life as Lord Leath’s wife. It was many years before I began to question things. Father had assured me you’d end in ruin, but you didn’t, did you? I kept track of you, even though we didn’t speak. Your handsome Mr. Wheeler married you. You had a little girl.”
Lady Leath threw a tentative smile at Amelia. “I heard you were very happy together in Portsmouth. I began to suspect Father and Lord Leath were being too stubborn about things. I might—”
She broke off, closing her eyes and raising her handkerchief to her mouth. Beatrice had reached for her, almost subconsciously, and now she held her hand in hers.
“I might have been able to work on Father. As the years went on, he missed you, I’m convinced of it. He knew of your daughter, too, his only grandchild, and he’d never seen her. He never spoke of his regrets, but I thought he had some. In time, I might have convinced him to relent. I suspect he wanted to, only he didn’t know how to climb down from his imperious position.
“But when he died so suddenly, nothing was resolved, nothing even spoken of. I made the mistake of saying to Lord Leath it was a shame he wasn’t reconciled with you before his death. In retaliation, Leath took me to our estate in Yorkshire and left me alone there for a full year.”
“Bertha.” Beatrice finally spoke. “Did he hurt you?”
“He never struck me. A gentleman would never resort to violence.” There was a subtle, sarcastic twist to her mouth. “But there are many ways to hurt a person. When it became clear I would never bear a child, he hardened toward me even more. He can be so, so cruel.” She paused again and shook her head. “I should have stood up to him. I should have asserted myself. I can only blame too many years under Father’s thumb and too many years under Leath’s. At some point I became convinced I wasn’t strong enough.
“Then your daughter came to visit and didn’t even blink at his rages, while I couldn’t manage to speak a word. In the face of her bravery, he looked like nothing but a blustering old man.”
“Oh Bertha, my poor dear,” Beatrice sighed.
“No, you mustn’t pity me, Bea. It’s nothing I didn’t bring on myself with my own arrogance and pride. I thought I’d done better than you.” Tears leaked from under her lashes. “But you married a man who loves you. I married a man who sees me as little more than a piece of furniture.”
“You were young,” Beatrice murmured. “You didn’t understand.”
Bertha shook her head. “No, I didn’t. But I do now and I’m sorry, Bea. I should have been here. You’ve been ill...”
“Shh, you’re here now, that’s what counts.”
The sisters fell into a tearful embrace Amelia was loath to interrupt, but she had a concern.
“What did you tell him?” she asked.
Lady Leath looked up at her in confusion. “Pardon?”
“What did you tell Lord Leath when you came here today?”
“Oh...I didn’t. I left a note.”
“Oh dear!” Beatrice exclaimed. “He’ll be angry with you. Perhaps you shouldn’t have come.”
Lady Leath gave a firm shake of her head. “Whatever he does, it’s worth it to me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Amelia interjected.
Her mother looked up at her. “What do you mean to do, Amelia?”
“Me? I don’t intend to do anything except pay a quick call on Genevieve.”
“What’s Lady Grantham got to do with Lord Leath?” Beatrice asked.
“Nothing. But she’ll know exactly who does have something to do with Lord Leath. Everyone has secrets. Let’s see what Leath’s are.”
“Amelia!” Beatrice exclaimed. “You’re talking about blackmail.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s only blackmail if you demand money. I’m simply going to convince Lord Leath that it’s to his advantage to allow his wife to visit her sister.”
“You are brave, Amelia,” Lady Leath said.
“So are you.” Her aunt clearly needed all the encouragement she could get on that front. “You came here today with no guarantees. I’ll do what I can to make sure you don’t pay dearly for it.”
Lady Leath teared again. “I already have paid. So many wasted years.”
Amelia touched her hand briefly. “I’ll let you and Mother start catching up. I’ve got a visit to make, if you’ll excuse me.”
She was nearly to the door when her mother called her name. When she turned back, her breath caught at the sight of her mother and aunt, sitting close together, clasping hands. Her mother was still pale, still gaunt, but her eyes were alight with happiness. She smiled at Amelia. “Thank you, my darling.”
Finally, for the first time in her wild life, she’d made her parents proud.
* * *
Nate had been pacing the length of the parlor, too anxious to hope Lady Leath’s appearance might change his situation at all. But if she was reconciled with Beatrice... Perhaps having her sister restored to her might make her less anxious about Amelia’s future. He was fairly certain Beatrice liked him well enough on his own merits. The rest of her reservation was her fear and that he had no control over.
The door opened and Amelia entered the room.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, it is. For the first time in many years, everything is all right.”
“I take it you paid Lord and Lady Leath a visit yesterday.” Amelia was unstoppable. Fresh from her scrape with Cheadle, she was marching alone into Lord Leath’s town house, facing yet another dragon. He’d never stop being amazed by her.
“Mother is deathly afraid I’ll be left with no family. I thought if I could restore hers to her, she might relent on that point.”
“And have you?” Seeing the way Lady Leath and Mrs. Wheeler had stared at each other—the pain and longing—he suspected she had.
“I think I might have. I didn’t think anything would come of the visit yesterday. She never said a word the whole time I was there. Now I understand why.”
“And why was that?”
She filled him in briefly on Lord Leath, his controlling ways and terrible temper, Lady Leath’s fear of him.
“She’s in a bit of danger now, isn’t she? Defying him and coming here?”
Amelia smiled. “I’m about to fix it. Pay a quick call with me? It’s time you met Genevieve anyway.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Several hours later, they were in the carriage, returning from a most enlightening visit with Amelia’s old tutor and friend, Genevieve Grantham. Amelia had been right—everyone had a secret, and if Lord Leath didn’t want his batted about London Society, he would step aside and let his wife reestablish a relationship with her sister.
“Amelia, the way your mind works is practically diabolical,” Nate observed, curling his hand around hers. “Remind me to never make an enemy of you.”
“Let that be a lesson to you. You’d better be nice to me.” She nudged him gently in the ribs.
“It was a good thing you did, facing down Leath. I know you did it for your mother, but you’ve improved Lady Leath’s situation, too. Although I wish you’d asked me to come with you. I don’t like the idea of you facing a tyrant like Leath on your own.” Frankly, it terrified him, but he knew better than to try holding her back. He could only convince her to let him stand at her side.
“Bah, he’s nothing but a bully. All pride and bluster. With a peculiar fondness for visiting a house of ill repute that specializes in spanking.”
“The things you know would make any other young lady faint in shock.”
“You should know by now, I’m nothing like the other young ladies.”
He chuckled and stretched out his legs. “Indeed, you prove it to me almost daily. Still, we’re a team now, yes? Let me help you when I can.” He suspected he’d spend his life barely keeping up with Amelia, and that suited him fine.
She smiled at him. “A team. Speaking of... How would you feel about getting married right away? Within a few weeks, if possible, so Mother can attend before she gets any worse.”
“Of course. I’d marry you tomorrow if we could manage it. But that would set the gossips on fire.” In truth, he wanted Amelia now, and every night into the future. He wanted to take her home right now, take her to his bed and never let her out of it. But he was trying to make her his wife and keep her family intact at the same time, and he wouldn’t jeopardize it now. Not when it seemed they might have managed it at last.
“I would say let them talk, but I’ve subjected poor Mother to enough. I mean to do this properly for her. A church, a new dress, plenty of guests, loads of flowers and a man of the cloth.”
“We’ll make it the wedding of the Season. They’ll talk about it in all the papers. So very proper we won’t be able to sit down for all the starch.”
Amelia sighed, going all melted inside over Nate once again. He really was the most perfect man she’d ever met, going through all this effort and bother just to make her mother happy. His kindnesses touched her heart, even as his other, more physical attributes touched other parts of her. Lord, but it felt an age since she’d been with him, when it had been only three days. Would it always be like this, a need never quite sated?
Well, she was finally alone with him, closed up in the carriage, a typical London fall afternoon cloaking them in drizzling rain, and she meant to get at least a bit of satisfaction out of him.
“I’ll make a good showing one last time, because after that, Nate, I plan on being very, very improper with you for the rest of our lives.”
“Why, whatever do you mean, Miss Wheeler?” he teased, his voice rough with desire. Need sparked and caught fire, the way it did every time he touched her, or even looked at her with those gorgeous eyes of his. There wasn’t nearly enough room in this carriage and her voluminous skirts and petticoats would be a challenge, but she thought she might be able to manage it if he helped. She shifted up and swung a leg over his, settling herself on his lap. Nate let loose a ragged sound in the back of his throat, setting her blood on fire.
“Amelia,” he groaned. “We’re in a carriage.”
“Indeed we are. The rocking should make for an interesting experience.”
“It’s entirely improper,” Nate tried again, even though his hand was already pushing aside the hem of her skirt and making its way up her bare leg.
She grasped the back of his neck with both hands, drawing him in until his lips were a breath away from hers. “When have either of us been proper? You should know, Nate, I’ll probably never be proper.”
He smirked and pressed a brief kiss to her lips. “I should hope not.”
When he pulled back, he paused long enough to bang on the roof and call to the coachman to take them for a long turn around Hyde Park.
“Well done,” Amelia said as he checked to make sure the blinds were drawn. “Now where were we? Ah...” She pressed her hand firmly against the fly of his trousers. “Right here, I believe.”
“Amelia...”
“Don’t you want me to touch you, Nate? No matter what your mouth says, I believe your body is telling me otherwise.” She rubbed her palm down the hard ridge of him and he hissed through his teeth.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he muttered, shifting his weight to give her access to him.
Nimbly, she undid the buttons, reaching in and finding him. Her gloves were off—just her warm palm against his bare flesh. Nate groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as she stroked him.
“What do you call it?”
He opened his eyes again and blinked in lust-filled confusion. “Call what?”
“This.” She squeezed him. He gasped. “Your...member.”
He chuckled. “You want to know what I
call
it?”
“I’m about to spend my life intimately acquainted with it. I’d like to refer to it as something other than ‘that bit there.’”
He smirked, a knowing slanted curl of his lips. Amelia felt his smirk in her cheeks and her toes and everyplace in between. Nate’s hand wrapped around hers, tightening her grip on him, and stroked it with her. “I call it my cock.”
She tried the word out, stroking again, firmly. “Cock.” Just saying it made her feel warm and liquid with desire.
Her eyes were lowered, watching their hands working him in tandem. “It’s not a proper word,” he muttered. “No nice girl would say it.”
“Lucky for you I’m no nice girl.” Amelia squeezed again, loving that she could make him come undone this way. She’d never tire of him, not ever.
“Lucky for me, indeed,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “Amelia...” The low, animal sound of her name on his lips made something hot pool low in her stomach. Her breasts, her thighs, every inch of her seemed to be drawing in, tense and ready for his touch.
“Perhaps you should help me with my skirts now.”
“I do love a woman who knows what she wants.”
“You,” she said. “I want you. I always shall.”
Tenderness momentarily replaced the lust in his eyes. He helped her drag her skirts and petticoats free as she shifted onto her knees. When she settled onto his lap again, his cock—what a glorious word—nestled right between her thighs, against her sex. She sighed and shifted against him. He slipped into the slick warmth of her, teasing her entrance but not quite there yet.
Suddenly Nate stilled, reaching up to capture her face in his hands. “Amelia, our first time together, while sublimely pleasurable, skipped over quite a few important steps, and I don’t want this to go by before I’ve had a chance to do it right.”
“Oh?” she panted. He was nearly inside of her and she ached with wanting him, but he seemed set on
talking
. “We seemed to accomplish quite a bit, but you’re the expert. You’ll have to tell me what we left out.”
He nudged her chin up until her eyes met his, sea-colored and so brimming with emotion that her voice caught in her throat.
“I never told you I love you.”
“Oh.”
“And I believe I ordered you to marry me, rather than asking you properly.”
“Well...”
“I love you.” He leaned in and kissed her lips, softly and gently, drawing back enough to see her eyes. “Will you marry me?”
Nate was shockingly efficient at drawing her emotions out of her. Here she was, made too tearful to speak by his words, by the earnest, gentle expression in his eyes. She nodded instead, and made some vague sound of assent. It might have been enough for him, except years of Genevieve’s training chose that moment to assert themselves. When accepting a proposal of marriage, a young lady should make a firm and enthusiastic reply, so the gentleman is left in no doubt of her wishes. She was fairly certain when accepting a proposal of marriage, a young lady ought not to be straddling the gentleman in a carriage. She was also fairly certain her skirts should not be rucked up around her thighs, with the gentleman’s cock poised to enter her. But it was the spirit of the thing that mattered, not the niggling details.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I will,” she said firmly and enthusiastically, before pulling him in and kissing him. As his tongue pushed into her mouth, he shifted his hips up and he slid into her, forcing a moan from her that he swallowed down. “And I love you, too.” He kissed her again, sweet and lingering, even as their bodies were locked together so intimately.
For a moment, she held still, uncertain what to do, how to move. The first time, she’d been underneath him and he did all the work.
“I’m not sure how...”
Nate’s hands closed over her hips, dragging her up his length and pulling her back down. “Like that. And let the carriage help.”
“Oh...” She moved over him experimentally a few times before finding the way of it. And the rocking of the carriage most definitely helped. Every sway and bump seemed to vibrate along her sensitive flesh, a sensual counterpoint to Nate’s movements under her. She wove her fingers behind his neck, bracing herself against him as her body began to spiral tighter, quite beyond her control.
“Amelia,” Nate whispered. “You feel amazing. It’s about to take you, isn’t it?”
She whimpered, grinding herself against him. “Yes, nearly.”
He slipped a hand between them, touching her right above where they were joined. She gasped. “There?”
“God, yes, just there.”
“You’ll have to be quiet, Amelia,” he said with a grin. “Or else the coachman will hear you. Can you be quiet?”
“Please...”
“Remember, darling, quiet.” He pressed harder, as the carriage hit a bump, and she fractured around him. She wasn’t quiet, not at all, but Nate kissed her as she cried out, muffling the sounds she made.
When she fell limply against him, he gripped the back of her neck and buried his face in her shoulder as he thrust up into her. His own growl of pleasure was lost in the fabric of her sleeve.
They swayed against each other for several long moments. “Well,” Amelia finally murmured. “That was the most enjoyable carriage ride I’ve ever taken.” She eased up enough to separate from him. He reached between them to tuck himself back into his trousers. When she settled back down on his lap, all the improper bits were put away. For now. He handed her his handkerchief, that she might put herself to rights.
“We have to get married right away.” Nate sighed, dropping his head back to look at her. “Or else I’m liable to take you on the parlor floor in the middle of tea, or something equally scandalous.”
She smiled, playing with the hair behind his ear. “I wouldn’t stop you, you know.”
“Yes, I know. That’s the problem.”
“You should know by now, Nate, I’m a walking scandal. I always will be.”
“And God, do I love you for it.”
She ran a finger along his jaw and began to toy with his collar. “What do you say to a long walk through the park?”
“You want to take a walk? Now? It’s starting to rain.”
“There’s a lovely path along the Serpentine.”
“The Serpentine.”
“And a clump of bushes that are nearly impenetrable. Especially in the rain.”
“Impenetrable.”
“Nearly. Unless you know the way to get behind them.”
“And I take it you do?”
She raised her eyes to his and nodded, biting her lip. Nate’s eyes darkened with lust. “You’ll get wet.”
“Do you promise?”
He chuckled. “What will we tell your parents when we turn up back home looking like bedraggled wanderers?”
“Tell them I dragged you into some dreadful adventure.”
“They’d believe that, most certainly.”
She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “What do you say, Nate? Shall we go find another adventure?”
Nate reached up to bang on the roof of the carriage. “Stop here. Miss Wheeler prefers to walk the rest of the way home.”
They were laughing, hand in hand, as they tumbled out of the carriage and disappeared into the park.