A Secret Proposal (5 page)

As usual, Amelia wasn’t able to nap. Today she couldn’t even seem to pretend. She tossed and turned for an uncomfortable half hour before she threw back the sheets and summoned Hannah to help her dress again. Then she stole downstairs in the express hope of finding Thaddeus Hammond.

She watched to see where the male members of the parties who arrived were headed, then she made her way quickly down the corridor to Lord Lexington’s study.

She lingered outside a bit, feeling like a complete fool and wondering whether she should ask a footman to go inside and inquire as to whether Mr. Hammond were there. She was still weighing the benefits of such a maneuver when the door opened and Thaddeus came strolling out.

Thank heavens.

“Thaddeus,” she called from her place in the shadowed side of the corridor behind a potted palm.

Thaddeus’s head snapped up. “Amelia?” He met her in two long strides.

“I’m so glad you’ve come,” she said, relief pouring through her. “I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind.”

He smiled at that. “I told you I would be here. I never break a promise.” He reached out and tilted up her chin. A surge of something electric shot through Amelia’s veins.

“Have you seen Stanford?” Thaddeus asked, his jaw clenching.

“The duke? Yes. Why?”

“I mean have you
seen
him? I ran into him earlier. He looks positively decrepit.”

Amelia smiled. “Yes. It’s perfect, actually.”

The look Thaddeus gave her indicated he was convinced she’d lost her mind. “Perfect? What are you talking about? You’d really choose that bag of bones to marry? Think what you’re doing, Amelia. Who cares about his title? He’s hateful.”

She shrugged. “He’s always been pleasant enough to me.”

Thaddeus let out his breath in a rush. “You cannot tell me you’re attracted to him.”

A laugh escaped Amelia’s lips. “Attracted? What does attraction have to do with marriage?”

His voice was tight. “A great deal, I thought.”

She shook her head slowly back and forth. “No. Titles, alliances, and money changing hands are the hallmarks of marriage. Attraction, when it happens—if it happens—is purely a coincidence. A happy one, I grant you.”

Thaddeus put his hands on his hips. “Amy, you know Paul truly cared for his fiancée, Lady Evelyn.”

Amelia glanced down at her hands. It was jarring to hear Paul’s name. “Yes, he did. He was in love.”

“He’d want that for you. You know he would.”

Amelia shook her head and turned away so Thaddeus wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “That was a long time ago. None of that matters anymore. I’ve made my choice.”

“But there are plenty of younger, handsome men who have titles. Choose one of them.”

“Oh really, young, handsome, titled gentlemen? Such as?”

Thaddeus tossed a hand in the air. “Jordan Holloway, the Earl of Ashbourne. He’s a bachelor.”

Amelia snorted. “And Lord Colton’s closest friend. No thank you. Besides, Ashbourne’s a
confirmed
bachelor. I’m looking for a man who wants a wife. Right away.”

Thaddeus paced away from her. “What about Viscount Medford? He seems like a good chap.”

“Medford is thick as thieves with Lily Andrews, er, Morgan. And another confirmed bachelor.”

Thaddeus paced away from her. “Regardless, there must be
someone
better than an old man crouching on death’s door.”

She whirled to face him and her skirts billowed out, making an arc around her ankles. “But that’s just it. If I marry someone old, I’ll be a widow sooner.”

He pressed his lips together. “And you don’t see anything wrong with that?”

“What’s the alternative?”

His voice dripped sarcasm. “I don’t know…a long and happy marriage?”

She let out a short bark of laughter. “You don’t really believe in those things, do you, Thaddeus?”

Thaddeus pressed a palm against the wall near her head. He was so close his breath ruffled the curls by her ear. “Are you truly that jaded, Amy?”

“I call it sensible.” She breathed.

He shook his head, paused. “We are not so different after all, you and I.”

Amelia took a step away and straightened her shoulders, shaking off the intensity of their exchange. “You’re fortunate, Thaddeus. You don’t have to marry. Your entire family isn’t depending on you for it. But don’t worry about me. I know what I’m getting into.” She smiled. “Well, I will…once you help me.”

His teeth tugged at his bottom lip as if he didn’t want to allow his answering smile. “Amy, you must listen to me. I cannot bear to see you throw yourself away on—”

“Step away from her!” A loud female voice reverberated down the corridor.

Amelia’s heart catapulted into her throat. Mama glared at them from about twenty paces away.

Thaddeus spun on his heel and stood up straight. “Mrs. Templeton.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

Mama walked toward them. Stalking them. Amelia forced her hands to her sides, her
fingers grappling with the gown. No wringing. No wringing.

Mama came to stand directly between Amelia and Thaddeus as if to block her daughter from his gaze. Her voice came through tightly clenched teeth. “Mr. Hammond. I had no idea the Lexingtons would invite you to such an event. Had I known, I daresay I wouldn’t have come. But you have no right, no right whatsoever, to speak to my daughter and if I ever see you doing so again, you will
not
like the consequences. Do you understand me?”

Amelia was too frightened to speak. She stood there, frozen to her spot, her heart beating a crazy staccato rhythm in her tightening chest. And she hated herself for it. She should say something, something about how she’d engaged Thaddeus in conversation. Something about how it wasn’t his fault. But she couldn’t. There was no reasoning with Mama when she was like this and if Mama got too angry, she might decide to drag Amelia home and then all of her planning would be for naught. No, better to keep her mouth shut and hope Mama’s anger passed.

Thaddeus stared at Amelia. He was waiting for her to say something. She glanced away and closed her eyes briefly, guilt washing over her in cold waves.

Thaddeus turned back to Mama. “As you wish, Mrs. Templeton,” was all he said. He bowed to both ladies, turned on his heel, and strode away down the corridor.

After suffering through an interminable dinner that night in which Lord Bartholomew talked about himself nonstop, Amelia was finally, blissfully able to retire to her rooms.

Thaddeus hadn’t been in the dining room. Had he skipped dinner in an attempt to placate Mama? Had he changed his mind about helping her? Amelia had to speak with him.

She waited a sufficient amount of time to ensure Mama was asleep, then Amelia tossed on a robe and tied it snuggly around her waist. She quietly opened the door to her room and tiptoed into the corridor, down the darkened hallway, and into the opposite wing where the bachelor guests were housed. The noise from the continuing party downstairs floated up. She could only hope Thaddeus wasn’t downstairs with the men.

Hannah had done some snooping earlier and they’d determined the location of Thaddeus’s room. Now Amelia paused outside his door and took a deep breath. Slowly, she reached out and pushed open the door.

The large room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, coming from a brace of candles sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. Decorated in hues of browns and blues, the room was
empty. Amelia held her breath. Should she stay or go? Could she risk waiting for Thaddeus? What if his valet appeared first and found her there? Mama would murder her if she ruined her reputation.

Amelia turned to go just as she heard a noise coming from the adjoining dressing room. She sucked in her breath.
Please don’t let it be the valet
.

Trembling, she glanced over her shoulder.

Thad strolled out of the dressing room…shirtless.

Amelia turned around to face him. She pressed her hand to her middle. Oh my, the man looked positively indecent with his shirtsleeves stretched across his taut abdomen and his wide, broad shoulders. But it should be absolutely illegal to see him without a shirt at all.

His muscled skin looked like steel, the firelight playing across it, giving it shadows and drawing her attention to the flat plane of his belly and the line of hair that disappeared down below his breeches. Thank God he was wearing his breeches. She may have fainted otherwise. Hmm. Still entirely possible.

She ran her tongue across her dry lips. “Th-Thad.”

It was the first time she’d called him that. But somehow seeing the man half naked called for a less formal name.

He glanced up, his eyes riveting to hers. She was wearing more than he was, but they both knew she shouldn’t be in his room wearing her night rail and a robe.

“Amelia.”

And he usually called her Amy. Strange.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She clenched and unclenched her fist. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He stayed right where he was, didn’t even make a move to don a shirt. “It wasn’t a good idea for you to come here. Not tonight.”

“Because of Mama?” She couldn’t look at him. Instead, she studiously regarded the painting of a hunting scene that hung over the mantel. “Is that why you didn’t come to dinner?” Drat. Her voice was too high.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his nod. “Yes. I suppose I thought I could avoid her, but that was an unreasonable notion.”

Amelia’s fist clenched convulsively. “She has nothing to do with this…with us.”

He took a step toward her. “Damn it, Amy. That morning…with Paul.”

Her gaze snapped to his. She put up a hand, closed her eyes. “Don’t. Paul has nothing to do with this. Neither does Mama.”

Thad let out a ragged breath. “I cannot blame your mother for hating me. She’d have me drawn and quartered if she knew what you’ve asked me to do.”

Amelia crossed over to him and laid her hand on his sleeve. “Don’t torture yourself, Thad. I asked you to do this. It’s my fault.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I lost Lord Colton.” She hung her head.

“So what?” His voice held an edge.

“So, the only way Mama will forgive me is if I—”

He pounded the wall with the side of his balled fist. “If you what? Marry someone you don’t even care about who will make you miserable?”

Amelia smoothed her hands down the front of her robe. “I told you, a title—”

He reached her in three wide steps, whirled her around to face him head-on, and grasped both her arms, pulling her close. Her head fell back, their breath comingled, their eyes met. “Think about what you want, Amy. Think about it. Hard.”

“I have,” she whispered breathlessly.

“And?”

She wet her bottom lip. Some devil on her shoulder was prompting her. Thad was so close and he smelled so good. “I want you to kiss me.”

Thad crushed her into his arms, his mouth swooped down to capture hers, and a jolt of pure sensation rocked through Amelia’s entire body. His mouth owned hers, warm, hard, demanding. It made her feel things she didn’t even know existed.

His mouth was insistent and hot. His tongue pushed inside and demanded things. Things she wanted to give. Amelia whimpered. Her whole body came alive as if for the first time. What was he doing to her? And oh God, why didn’t she want him to stop?

Pushing her hands up his muscled arms, she feathered them through his hair, and pulled him even closer. He groaned. With one strong arm, he reached behind her and in one movement,
tugged her hard against his body. She shuddered. He pushed against her most private place. His rock-hard body searching, demanding. She kissed him back with all the burgeoning passion she felt.

She let her hands descend, allowed them to roam across the solid plains of his naked chest. Up over his shoulders, to wrap around his neck. His skin was hot to the touch and ooh, it felt good. She strained up on her tiptoes to fully meet his mouth. His firmly molded sensual lips and his unrelenting tongue were driving her mad. Her breasts rubbed against his chest and even through her night rail and robe, it made them ache.

She let her hands drop away from his shoulders just long enough to untie the belt around her robe and shrug off the garment. It fell in a soft heap at her feet. Thad glanced down at her body in the diaphanous night rail. This time, he shuddered.

“Amy,” he whispered, crushing her against his chest. Her nipples rubbed against his hard muscles with barely any material separating them. Amelia groaned.

She wrapped her arms around his trim waist and pulled him closer. She let her head fall back and Thad kissed her cheeks, her earlobe, her neck. His mouth nuzzled at the bodice of her night rail and he buried his face between her breasts. “Oh, Amy. God, Amy.”

“Make love to me, Thad,” she whispered. “Please.”

He picked her up, scooped her just like she was a doll, and carried her over to the bed. He laid her there and stared down at her, so reverently. He pushed away a curl from her cheek. Then he lowered himself atop her and Amy closed her eyes. This is what she wanted. She felt no fear
with this man, only longing. Desire. Need.

He slipped her night rail over her shoulders and tugged it down far enough to expose both breasts. She shivered when the chill of the room touched her skin but soon his hand was there, on one of her breasts and his mouth—she gasped—covered the other. She tangled her fingers in his dark hair and closed her eyes. Letting herself just feel.

Feel everything.

His thumb and forefinger tortured one nipple while his mouth sucked and bit at the other. She arched her back, wanting to get closer, closer to his maddening mouth. He licked her nipple, bit it, kissed it. She moaned and ran her fingers over his broad shoulders and down his taut arms.

“What happens next?” she whispered. “Show me, please.”

Thad’s body tensed and he shuddered violently. He pushed himself up on his elbows and stared down at her reverently. He gave her one last chaste kiss before he gently pulled her night rail back up to cover her. Then he sat up and moved away from her. Stood, and took two steps away from the bed, not facing her.

“Thad?” She shook her head helplessly though he couldn’t see. What was he doing? Why did he stop?

“No, Amy. Not tonight.”

Amy wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly bereft. It was as if all the heat and oxygen in the room had just been sucked away and she was left to shiver alone in her flimsy night rail. She was thankful he wasn’t looking at her.

“Is it because you don’t want me that you won’t?” she asked brokenly.

He braced one hand against the wall and breathed raggedly. His profile cast a shadow on the wall in the flickering candlelight. A muscle ticked furiously in his jaw. “God no, Amy. It’s because I want you so badly, that I can’t.”