Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (26 page)

Jake pasted a friendly yet slightly bored look on his face as he entered the Duke and Duchess of Foxhaven’s great hall for another ball in a lineup of endless societal events for the season.

He liked his sister’s in-laws, having furthered his acquaintance with them years earlier in Northumberland. Nonetheless, it wouldn’t do to appear too satisfied with life. Otherwise, the gossips would begin their wild speculations.

There were already many whispers about his association with Amelia, but after this evening, the
ton
would have the truth. He loved Amelia, planned to marry her, and he wasn’t interested in their eligible daughters.

Having gained the duke’s consent, Jake’s father would announce their engagement and subsequent wedding to be held in two days. He and Amelia had decided on a quiet ceremony at Hillary House with family and friends then making the announcement at dinner that evening. But he didn’t like anyone assuming the worst about his betrothed, even if it was for only two more days. He needed to inform Amelia of the slight change in plans, but she hadn’t arrived with Lady Kennell yet.

He ignored the quiet voice in the back of his mind that pointed out ulterior motives. Why should he fear her changing her mind? Amelia had demonstrated the constancy of her feelings for the past few weeks.

Across the room, Daniel was chatting with Lana’s attractive friend, Lady Phoebe, and earning dark looks from her husband. From the slight flush of Lady Phoebe’s cheeks, Jake guessed the nature of their discussion trod on dangerous ground. Before his brother developed lead poisoning from a well-placed ball to his person, Jake crossed the room to interrupt.

Lady Phoebe smiled gratefully as he neared. “Mr. Hillary, how nice to see you this evening. Your brother was just entertaining me with tales from America.”

“You mustn’t believe a word he says. Daniel has been known to exaggerate.”

Daniel clapped him on the back. “Finally, you make an appearance. I arrived thirty minutes ago.”

Lady Phoebe’s gaze flickered to her husband and her eyes lit with amusement. “I hope you gentlemen will excuse me. I must mingle. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel slighted. Enjoy your evening.”

Alone, Jake pulled Daniel toward a far corner. “You take your life into your hands if you consider dallying with Lady Phoebe.”

His brother chuckled. “I’m hurt by your harsh judgment of my character. I was simply complimenting her on her lovely gown.”

“Indeed? I hope your comments were limited to the
color
of her lovely gown.”

Daniel shrugged before taking two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing footman. He handed one to Jake and sipped from the other.

“Of course,” he said. “Why would I mention anything else, such as how the cut displays her assets to great advantage, or how magnificent it must be to place one’s lips against the pearly shimmer of her luscious skin?”

“You didn’t,” Jake whispered harshly, ready to throttle him.

Daniel winked. “No, but I thought it. I am aware of Lord Richard’s reputed bad temper, and I would like to avoid anything that might delay my departure for New Orleans.”

Relief washed over Jake. “I suppose death
would
be a nuisance.”

“For me, anyway. It is bad enough I must wait to witness your nuptials before sailing. I will be perturbed if the good weather doesn’t hold out for a couple more days.”

“You need not stay for the wedding. I know you are anxious to set off on your voyage.”

Daniel grinned. “I wouldn’t miss the blessed event. It’s about time.” He nodded toward the doorway. “Your betrothed arrives.”

Amelia had entered the room with Lady Kennell by her side, infusing Jake with a rush of ardor. “Good God, how I love her.”

“As if anyone cannot read it on your face, you must declare your devotion to the entire room?”

Jake cringed. Had he just spoken his feelings aloud?

“Don’t worry,” Daniel said. “No one overheard.”

Amelia glanced Jake’s way and smiled.

“I have more important things to do than listen to you blather on,” Daniel teased. “Go ask the lady to dance before her card is filled.”

***

Amelia’s stomach tumbled when Jake started in her direction. She wished she could forget her conversation with Mr. Tucker, but it preyed on her thoughts.

“Good evening, Lady Audley.”

Her heart expanded as she gazed into Jake’s tender eyes.
This
is
what
it
means
to
be
loved.

Bibi cleared her throat, a smirk twisting her full lips.

Jake winced. “
Oh
, and good evening, Lady Kennell.”

Flashing her famous smile, Bibi tapped her fan against his arm. “I see I am an afterthought this evening. I will leave you two lovesick fools alone to admire one another.”

“Forgive me, Lady Kennell, I didn’t intend—”

Bibi whipped around and stalked away from them.

Amelia chuckled at Jake’s stricken expression. “She is teasing. She spotted Lord Norwick a moment before you approached. I am afraid she is not above making you squirm on occasion.”

He fiddled with his cravat. “Are you certain I didn’t offend her?”

She threaded her arm through his and squeezed. “She is unoffended.”

His Grace, the Duke of Foxhaven, took center stage and waved over his wife to join him. “Ladies and gentleman, Her Grace and I extend our sincere gratitude for your presence this evening.” He lifted his flute. “May every left cross turn be performed with grace, and may all the ladies’ toes remain intact.”

“Hear, hear,” the crowd responded with enthusiasm, lifting their glasses as well.

Their hostess took position for the quadrille with the Duke of Sagehorn to begin the evening’s festivities.

After the first dance concluded, Jake led Amelia to the floor and bowed while she responded with a curtsy before they took their places for a minuet. The grand piano plunked out a lilting melody. Soon the cello and violin lent their voices, melding in harmony.

When Jake’s fingers touched hers, a thrill shot down Amelia’s arm straight to her heart. They drew close while their hands lifted above their heads then they pushed apart again. Jake’s gaze locked on her, hungry and possessive. They circled.

Repeating the pattern, Amelia’s body hummed in anticipation of him taking her in his arms. She longed for the warmth of his touch, the excitement he generated. When the time came, Jake was as light as the music on the air, swirling her around the space, intoxicating her with his nearness and light citrus scent. Amelia lost awareness of time and place, unaware of when the music ceased.

Jake grinned, breaking her from her trance. “Would you care for some refreshment, my lady?”

Her dry mouth made speaking difficult. She nodded.

Tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, he guided her toward the back of the room where Her Grace had set up the refreshment table. Handing her a glass of lemonade, he ushered her to a quiet corner housing several potted palms.

“You look stunning this evening,” he murmured. “Please dance every set with me.”

She laughed. “I am afraid everyone would notice you hold a
tendre
for me if I did.”

He returned her smile. “Let them notice. I am finished sharing you. Besides, in a few moments, it will no longer matter.”

Her brows lifted in question.

“I spoke with His Grace earlier. He has granted permission for Father to announce our impending nuptials.”

His revelation sent a frisson of fear rippling along her limbs. “Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

A horrible thought invaded her mind. What if someone else knew Audley was still alive? What if someone called her out, accusing her of bigamy? Her hand fluttered to her chest to calm her galloping heart.

Jake frowned. “What’s the matter, Amelia?”

“We agreed to wait until we had spoken our vows. There are only two days remaining. Why must we change course?”

“Our course is the same. We will still marry as planned. Father will simply announce our intentions before we join in matrimony.” He lowered his voice even more, his concern saddening her. “Sweetheart, what troubles you?”

He leaned closer, his hazel eyes cloudy.

How could she have considered risking his heart anymore than she had already done? If her husband ever returned, her marriage to Jake would be void. And if she spoke her vows to Jake knowing her husband was still alive, how could he ever forgive her? He wouldn’t. And she would never forgive herself.

“Call off the announcement,” she choked out.

“Pardon?”

Amelia caught sight of Mr. Hillary approaching the raised platform. “Please, there is no time to explain. You must stop him.” She shoved Jake toward the stage and prayed he would reach his father in time.

Jake shot across the ballroom, bumping into Lady Hollister on the way. Offering a hasty apology, he pushed through the crowd to capture his father’s arm as he stepped one foot onstage. They whispered together for several moments then parted. Jake turned back to her. Much to her alarm, Mr. Hillary proceeded onto the platform, drawing all eyes to him.

Jake wandered back to her side.

She hugged herself, her fingers digging into her upper arms. “What is he doing?”

Mr. Hillary bowed slightly to the duke and duchess before addressing the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to take this moment to thank our gracious host and hostess for what promises to be a lovely evening. To the Duke and Duchess of Foxhaven, may you enjoy many years of continued prosperity and good health.”

A polite smattering of “hear, hears” rippled around the room intermingled with whispers and curious stares aimed at Jake and Amelia.

Jake feigned a smile as he spoke between clenched teeth. “Do you care to explain yourself?”

She lifted her fan, waving it to cool her heated face. “Not here. Come to Verona House in an hour. I will tell you everything.”

***

Jake expected the usual disdainful looks from Amelia’s butler, not pity.

“Her ladyship awaits you in the blue drawing room, sir.” The sympathetic note in Bradford’s voice triggered a surge of frustration tearing through Jake. What did the servant know of Amelia’s thoughts while she kept him in the dark?

He held his temper in check and followed, fighting the urge to push past the man and burst into the drawing room. When they entered, Amelia glanced up. Her expression was neutral.

“You may leave us, Bradford.”

A quick bow and then the servant backed from the room.

The carpet muffled Jake’s footsteps as he strode to where she perched on a tufted chair. He extended his hand. “Come. Sit with me on the settee.”

She didn’t place her hand in his. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I must keep you at a distance. Otherwise I will never have the courage.”

Her answer was a punch in the gut, knocking the wind from him. He dropped onto an adjacent chair and rested his forearms on his knees.

Courage?
Why must Amelia have courage to speak with him?

“I would never hurt you,” he said.

“I know.” She didn’t look at him.

Jake examined the carpet below his boots and followed the intricate pattern of loops like a maze that could lead him out of his confusion.

“Jake, I am so sorry.” Amelia’s voice broke.

His gaze snapped to her face. Tears shimmered in her blue eyes. His heart felt a tug. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Whatever you say, we’ll figure out how to make it better.”

She shook her head and swiped at her tears. “There is nothing to be done. We cannot marry.”

He shot to his feet and crossed the space separating them. “Of course we can. We have a license. The vicar is coming Friday morning.” Jake pulled her up into his embrace. She wilted against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. His anxiety disappeared as she nestled closer. She just had a case of the nerves.

“You mustn’t tease me like that, Amelia.” He caressed his hands along the gentle curve of her back. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

With his finger, he gently lifted her chin and lowered his mouth to hers to kiss away whatever doubts she had about their suitability.

“No.” Turning her cheek, she shoved her palms against his chest. He released her immediately, caught by surprise.

She stumbled backward, recovered her footing, and fled behind her chair. Her hand rested on the barrier between them.

“Jake, please. Y-you cannot hold me like that, or… or kiss me… anymore.”

His irritation flared. “What nonsense is this? I cannot kiss you anymore? You are to be my wife.”

“No.” She gripped the seat back; the color drained from her face. “I can’t marry you. While you called on Lana, Mr. Tucker visited Verona House—”