Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (31 page)

“Huh…” Was it just him, or was Amelia speaking nonsense?

“I want everything settled first. I want Audley to agree to the divorce. I want it all behind us, so everything is right.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Are you saying if we had never become intimate, Audley would still be dead?”

“Yes. No, not really. But”—she scooted around the table—“how can we ever know?”

Applying
reason
and
logic
might
be
the
first
step
.

“I don’t wish to take any chances,” she said. “It may sound like superstitious foolishness, but we can’t be too careful. Our child’s future is more important than anything, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Well, yes—”

“Thank goodness.” She collapsed onto the vacant chair. “I feared you might think me mad. Then we agree. Until everything has been put back to rights, we must remain celibate.”

Celibate?
Hellfire
and
damnation!
When had he agreed to such an arrangement? “Isn’t it a bit late at this point?”

She crossed her arms and her jaw jutted forward. “We must do what is best for our future
now
. You know I’m right.”

Jake sighed and shoved his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t good, not good at all. She obviously had a case of female hysteria. Thankfully, he retained sense enough to keep his observations to himself. Pressing the issue seemed unwise at the moment, but tomorrow was another day.

He offered a smile so as not to give himself away. “So, you play hazard?”

Bibi cuddled against Jasper and sighed with contentment as the Berlin carriage carried them back to Kennell House. She still missed Amelia, but she had done the right thing in encouraging her to travel with Mr. Hillary.

Amelia had an opportunity for love and marriage, something Bibi would never have. And never realized she had desired until recently. Instead, she had settled into a pleasing coexistence with her lover, trying not to think overmuch on the inevitable ending of their affair.

If anyone had asked her at the start of the season if she could imagine embracing a domesticated life, she would have laughed. Yet here she was living as one half of a couple deep into their dotage.

She and Jasper ventured out every evening, attending balls, dinner parties, or the theatre, but they also returned home early. Of course, their entertainments behind closed doors couldn’t remotely resemble those pursued in old age.

Jasper drew her closer against his side. “Did you enjoy yourself this evening, B?”

“Oddly, yes.”

“Oddly?”

“I hadn’t expected Forest and his wife to be so amiable, although Amelia had warned me that I might like Lady Lana if I gave her a chance.”

His body shook with a throaty chuckle. “As long as you were duly warned.”

“Indeed. I believe Lady Lana and I could become friendly given time.”

“Excellent.”

Jasper sounded pleased by her admission. In fact, he had been rather enthusiastic about her forming new associations over these past few weeks. He often encouraged her to extend invitations to his cousins, Lady Eleanor and Lady Lydia, practically penning the notes on her behalf. His eagerness in arranging her social life gave her pause. One might think he wished to have her out from underfoot.

The carriage eased through the iron gates of her town house and rumbled to a stop.

“Ah, we return,” Jasper said, his voice taking on a strained quality.

When he didn’t make a move to exit the carriage when the door opened, Bibi glanced up. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

“Do you not wish to come inside?” she asked.

“Yes, I do wish it, but…”

Bibi’s eyes rounded a fraction before she could school her features. “But what, sir?”

“We cannot go to the bedchamber,” he mumbled. “I have a matter I must address with you, and I cannot be distracted from my purpose.”

Her heart paused for one horrible moment. This was it, the end of their lovely association. He had reached the conclusion it was time to take a wife. The season would end soon, and he needed to make an offer before the available young women returned to the country. Perhaps playing house with
her
had eased him into the idea of matrimony more quickly than she had hoped.

Her eyes narrowed. Was this the reason he had encouraged her to go on so many outings? Had he been courting his future bride while Bibi had traipsed all over Bond Street spending blunt like a fool?

“Speak your mind here, my lord,” she said with a definite chill to her voice. “Then you may be on your way.”

Jasper shifted his weight and climbed from the carriage. “I am afraid there is not enough privacy in the carriage, nor enough room.”

Bibi hesitated to take his hand, but did so out of necessity. Had she not donned the most treacherously high heels in order to appear taller in his presence, she would have shunned his offer of assistance. Once safely on the ground, Jasper didn’t release her hand, but pulled her close to his side and escorted her through the double doors.

He had been attentive, loving, and solicitous the entire evening, which irritated her to no end. If he had exhibited any aloofness, she would have known to steel her heart against this moment. As it was, she felt as vulnerable as a newborn kitten.

“Shall we retire to the violet drawing room, my dear?”

“The location makes no difference,” she snapped.

Jasper gazed at her in surprise. “Indeed? I wish I had realized as much earlier. Perhaps on Forest’s veranda would have been preferable.”

Now he really had her back up. “In a place where we might be overheard? Are you mad?”

He released her hand and stepped back to rub his chin thoughtfully. “No, I suppose you’re correct. This matter is best discussed without potential eavesdroppers or untimely interruptions.”

With a spine fashioned of iron, Bibi walked to a lavender wing armchair and perched on the edge. “Do get on with it, Norwick.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his gaze shot to the crystal decanter sitting on the sideboard. “Might I partake of a brandy first?”

She crossed her arms and glowered. “Do you require spirits for courage?”

“Well, this is new to me, Bianca.”

That admission didn’t buoy her morale in the least. A man who had likely always been on the receiving end of the disappointing news a relationship had run its course endeavored to end his association with her.

“It is novel to me as well,” she said.

A bewildered look crossed his features. “Really? How peculiar,” he mumbled to himself before looking up.

“For heaven’s sake, Jasper. Spit it out.”

“Have I angered you in some way?”

Bibi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was undignified. She had always known their association would end, and she had imagined it as a friendly parting. She had promised herself she would respond with something witty, such as… Maybe something like… Oh, for the love of God, how was one supposed to be clever at a time such as this?

“Pay me no mind, Jasper. I am simply caught unawares, but I am not angry.”

He eyed her warily.

“Please, help yourself to a brandy,” she said, waving a hand toward the decanter.

He didn’t move. He stared in puzzlement, his face darkening to that pleasant red color it always did when he was emotional. Straightening his waistcoat, he stepped forward.

“No, you are correct. I don’t require libations for what I am about to do. I have never been as confident in my decision as I am at this moment.”

A choking lump formed in her throat. Her surliness had solidified his decision. He would toss her aside with no regrets.

“Bianca, it should come as no secret that I must—”

“Take a wife,” she said on a wail. “Yes, I know.”

“Mercy! Will you allow me to finish?” Jasper jerked on his waistcoat and stretched his neck. “This is
my
moment. Please, wait for your lines.”

She procured a handkerchief from her reticule and blotted her tears. “Sorry.”

“Yes, well. Allow me to try again.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a most uncouth behavior that made him all that dearer to her. “As you have stated, I must take a wife. I have considered it a distasteful duty until recently but now find my attitude toward matrimony has come more in line with what is expected of me as the seventh Earl of Norwick. Do you understand?”

Bibi nodded miserably.

“Brilliant. Then we understand one another.” He beamed. “I must warn you, I not only
require
children, I find myself unexpectedly desiring them.”

Warn
me?
What a bizarre choice of words. Of course, she knew he would require issue, but how would that affect her in any way? It wasn’t as if she would be taking tea in his nursery, being forced to look into their chubby faces and large, obsidian eyes. Imagining tiny versions of Jasper toddling about choked her up again.

“Do you agree to children?” he asked.

Bibi’s gaze snapped to his face. “Whatever are you saying, Norwick? Why would you seek my approval? I have no say in the matter. This is a question best posed to your future wife.”

“My future wife?” He blinked. “Oh, bloody hell. I mucked it up, didn’t I?”

Before Bibi could respond, he knelt before her and pulled his hand from his pocket. The glint from what appeared to be a million diamonds encircling a ring band with an obscenely larger diamond in the middle stole her breath.

“What is this?”

“A token of my affection. It worked well enough for Hillary,” he said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into his words.

Bibi placed her hand over his. “It is beautiful, darling. You did well.”

“My dearest, Bianca. I would be greatly honored and pleased if you would consent to be my wife.”

“Me?”

Jasper frowned. “Who else would I wish to marry? We have been inseparable for weeks.”

“But I thought you considered me your lover, not a candidate for a wife.”

“Can you not be both?”

Bibi chuckled as tears slid down her cheeks. “Yes, Jasper Hainsworth. I can indeed be both a lover and wife to you.”

“Then we have reached an understanding?”

She captured his face between her palms and kissed him soundly. “We have reached an understanding.”

His smile left her legs weak. He slipped the ring on her finger, stood, and whisked her up into his arms. “By George, I
can
lift you without throwing out my back.”

She swatted his shoulder. “Jasper!”

“Not now, my dear. I must concentrate if I am to navigate the stairs without killing us both.”

He hurried from the drawing room and carried her to the bedchamber without the slightest threat of injury to either of them. He laid her on the bed and climbed up beside her. His eyes glittered in the candlelight as he gazed at her, caressing his thumb over her bottom lip.

“There is one more thing I neglected to tell you, Bianca.”

“What might that be?” Her voice sounded airy.

“I love you.”

Thank heavens Bibi had stolen to the balcony that night at the masked ball. Otherwise, she might have missed the greatest gift of all: a bumbling yet endearing man who challenged her false notions that love was simply a myth.

“I love you, too, Jasper.”

Amelia gaped at the surroundings marking the entrance to the Mississippi River. She supposed some might describe it as desolate with the banks of almost black mud, but there was an odd beauty to the area. The saturated earth shimmered in the sunlight, and the smooth texture from water having washed over it reminded her of a looking glass.

The place where no life should exist teemed with groups of pelicans. They huddled together as if gathered for a crude ball, issuing deep grunts that sounded like a cross between a swine’s snort and an old man’s snoring.

Jake leaned on the railing beside her and pointed at another bird wading along the shore. “It’s a white ibis. See the black wingtips?”

The long-legged bird dipped his hooked beak into the shallow waters.

“How are you familiar with the bird species?”

Jake twisted his upper body toward her. His dazzling smile turned her insides to mush.

“I thought you knew I had sailed as part of Daniel’s crew a few times,” he said. “Grandfather considered it part of our education. Benjamin had his stint as well, but Daniel was the only one to fall in love with the sea.”

“What an unorthodox education.”

“Agreed, but there was some logic involved. To protect one’s investments.”

She tipped her head to the side and glanced up at him. “Why must one know about sailing to protect one’s investments?”

“There are many factors involved with a ship making her destination. To run a successful shipping business, it helps to be familiar with those factors. You want to hire the most qualified shipmaster, the one with the best chance of arriving with the shipment. Knowing what it takes to accomplish this task will guide you in choosing the best man.”

“Oh.”

She had never considered what a son might require as he grew into a man. A son needed a father to guide him, and Jake was the best man for the task. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she turned away before he noticed.

What if Jake was wrong about the laws governing New Orleans? Even he had admitted they would require counsel from a solicitor familiar with the divorce laws. What if the laws didn’t apply to her? She was English, after all, and so was her husband. If that were the case, Audley would have to return to England, or she would never be free to marry again. And what if her husband refused, or demanded she stay with him?

Jake’s hand grazed her elbow. “You’re worrying again.”

She tried to smile, but it felt tight and false. “I never expected to see my husband again. What will I say when I see him?”

Jake placed his hand over hers where it rested on the railing. His fingers fit snugly in the spaces between hers. “When I woke this morning, my first thought was of Mr. Canaan.” He frowned slightly and shook his head. “Not true, he was second. You were first. You always are.”

She laid her head against his shoulder for an instant, unable to resist touching him.

“If Mr. Canaan is not Audley, will you consider the matter settled?”

“Of course.” A lump formed in her throat. She wanted to believe they had made a mistake more than anything, but she couldn’t. Her instincts told her Mr. Canaan was a fraud.

“Are you tired, sweetheart? Do you want to go below deck?”

She shook her head. “I’ve missed civilization.”

He chuckled. “I’m uncertain I would deem this area civilized, but I understand your meaning. Here comes the pilot.”

Amelia craned her neck to view the longboat rowing in their direction. The man would help guide their ship over the sandbar, or so Jake had explained earlier.

“I never realized how difficult it would be to reach New Orleans,” she said.

“Only the more daring attempt it.”

Progress through the shallow, muddy waters was arduous, but Amelia stayed by the railing, unwilling to miss any sight. The beds of mud eventually gave way to lush vegetation, untamed and mysterious. Ahead, a smattering of huts huddled together as if grouping the fragile domiciles might lend protection against Mother Nature.

She pointed. “Who lives there?”

“Fishermen, pilots, and their families. We’ve reached Balize Island. We will wait here until permission is granted to proceed.”

“How long?”

He offered that heart-stopping grin again. “Don’t worry. You’ll eat well tonight. Are you hungry?”

“A little.”
Blasted
ravenous
is
more
like
it.

“Splendid.” His eye twinkled as if he knew she misrepresented her true state. Her appetite had become a demanding beast over the last couple of weeks, and much to her embarrassment, Jake appeared to have noticed.

She cleared her throat, ready to deflect attention from her expanding figure. “I want to accompany you to the bookshop when we dock. Perhaps if I speak with him—”

“Not until I’ve had a chance to see him.”

“Why not? He’s my husband.”

Jake’s jaw twitched. “Because I’m going to beat the gentleman senseless if he’s truly David Caine. No man worth a shilling would leave you, Amelia.”

She smiled despite her worries and the seriousness of his threat. “I promise to step outside if a thrashing becomes necessary.”

***

Once the
Cecily
reached the mouth of the Mississippi, Amelia had thought their journey at an end, but they’d still had a difficult leg ahead. Uncooperative winds left them sitting for more than half the day at times, making her question if they would ever reach their destination. Yet, now that they had arrived in New Orleans, and Amelia left the Dauphine Orleans on Jake’s arm en route to Mr. Canaan’s bookshop, she wished they were back on ship.

The harsh New Orleans sun seared her skin, and she raised her parasol in search of a reprieve. Whoever said ladies did not sweat had never worn the ridiculous layers favored by her contemporaries in a place where clothing should be banned all together. As they hurried along the walkway, there was little time to appreciate the charming ironwork balconies, not that she was in any state to enjoy the sights. All she could think on was the coming confrontation with her husband.

Her stomach whipped itself into a frenzy when Jake led her down a narrow passageway between two buildings. A wooden sign swung in the slight breeze, the metal links creaking with the effort of holding its weight. Black scrolled letters announced their location.

“Carlyle Book Shoppe,” she whispered. Her legs trembled as they neared the entrance. Carlyle Manor had been in the Audley family for four generations, the home where her husband had reportedly lost his life.

She froze at the large shop window, fighting the urge to run away.

Jake looked to her, his brows drew together in concern. “Do you want to return to the hotel?”

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding, and then she saw him. His hair was darker and longer, and held back with a tie. A tailored coat skimmed his narrow shoulders, and his breeches fit to perfection. Her husband was nothing if not immaculate in his grooming.

Audley conversed with a patron, his back to the window. Fury flared inside her, and she broke away from Jake to confront the horrid man she had been fool enough to marry.

“Amelia, wait.”

She pushed through the door, setting off a jingling of bells.

Audley didn’t turn to investigate. He spoke softly to the exotic young man in front of him.

“Mr. Canaan,” she called, her voice reminiscent of a cracking whip.

“Yes?” He spun around and gasped. “Lady Audley?”

All her pluck and anger slipped. It wasn’t her husband.

Thank
God.
Jake wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her from sliding to the floor. A small smile played about his lips.

“Lord Patterson, I can’t tell you how happy I am to find
you
here,” Jake said.

The gentleman snarled. “Sorry I cannot say the same,
Hillary
.”

Amelia drew back. Jake’s smile slid from his face. She sensed his hesitation, the stiffening of his limbs.

“M-my lord, what are you doing in New Orleans?” she asked.

Patterson turned back to the gentleman aiming curious looks their direction and whispered something in his ear.

“Why must I leave?”

The men argued back and forth in a flurry of hissed words.

“As you wish.” The man brushed past Patterson and bumped hard against his shoulder before stalking from the shop. The door slammed behind him.

“I take it he didn’t find the book he wanted,” Jake mumbled.

With a sigh, Patterson rubbed his temple. “Who sent you? My father? No, he can’t wish to see me again.”

“No one sent us,” Amelia said. “We came here seeking my husband.”

Patterson’s hand fell to his side, and he scrutinized her with eyes narrowed. “Your husband is dead.”

A flash of heat burnt her cheeks. “Well, yes. I can see how that might sound a bit peculiar, but we thought there might have been some mistake.”

Jake offered his arm. “And now that we see there has been no mistake, we won’t take up any more of your time.” He directed her toward the door.

“You are seeking answers, Amelia. Not your husband.”

Jake spun on his heel and thrust a finger at him. “Don’t you dare address her by her Christian name. Have you any idea the suffering your little charade has brought us?”

Patterson frowned. “I shouldn’t think any more than Audley’s did.”