“The duke did offer to apprise you of his return.”
“As if I’d trust him to tell me anything. The first thing he’ll do is warn Jack off, and he’ll be gone again.”
“But what if Jack doesn’t want to avoid you?” Amelia asked slowly. “Mayhap he doesn’t know what happened, and will be just as surprised as everyone else because you have reappeared.”
Marcus didn’t reply and Amelia carried on speaking. “The duchess spoke very highly of him.”
At this, Marcus did glance down at her. “Are you trying to make excuses for Jack now?”
“I’m just asking you to be cautious about how you proceed.”
Marcus stopped walking and turned to face her. “I deserve an explanation, Amelia.”
She touched his sleeve. “I know, but—”
“I’ve lost years of my life because of what happened that day. Years that I can never get back or even damn well
remember
.”
“From the sound of it, Jack hasn’t exactly been living the high life himself. Court marshaled, thrown out by his family, estranged from his wife…”
“Perhaps he deserved it.” There was a hard look to Marcus’s mouth that didn’t bode well for Jack’s future.
“Perhaps he does,” Amelia agreed.
He slowly exhaled. “I’m sorry, Amelia. It’s just that I’ve spent years thinking about this moment—of seeing Jack again, and simply wrapping my hands around his throat and choking the life out of him. It’s the only constant I have from the time I was captured until I woke up in Dove Cottage. It
consumed
me and kept me alive. It’s hard to step back and consider all this new evidence.”
“If he admits what he did, I won’t stop you exacting any revenge you think necessary on him. I’ll even hold your coat while you fight.”
She held his gaze and watched the strain disappear from his blue eyes. One side of his mouth kicked up.
“Bloodthirsty wench, aren’t you?”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “That’s because I grew up in the tail of an army.”
“Sometimes I miss that life. At least I understood it.”
“I can’t say that I do—although not always having to act like a simpleton at a debut ball
was
rather refreshing. I discovered I was capable of many things.”
He took her hand, placed it on his sleeve and they started walking again.
“I’ll give him the opportunity to explain himself.”
“Before you strangle him.”
He glanced down at her, his blue eyes full of wry amusement. “That, my dear is a given. One cannot confess if one is dead.”
She was laughing up at him when a movement to her left caught her eye. She turned to see the startled face of a woman passing by in an open carriage. Ducking her head, she increased her pace, her heart thumping.
“Are you quite well, Amelia?” Marcus inquired as he attempted to keep up with her.
She kept moving. “I think it is going to rain. I don’t want to get my new pelisse wet.”
“You can always buy another one.”
They turned a corner out of the square and she forced herself to look up at him and smile. “You are becoming a wastrel, sir. What will Charles think if you bankrupt the earldom buying coats for me?”
“Hang the earldom.” He cupped her chin, halting their progress again. “I’d rather you were warm and not chilled by the rain.”
“As if I haven’t been both many times before and survived perfectly well.”
“I don’t want you to have to survive. I want you to
thrive
. I want you never to have to worry about being safe and warm ever again.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Marcus…”
“I mean it, my lady. Whatever happens between me and Jack, you will never want for anything.”
She nodded, and he started walking again.
“So who was the woman in the carriage?”
Amelia sighed. “I was hoping you hadn’t noticed. She was… someone I once knew.”
“She certainly looked surprised to see you.”
“I haven’t been in London for almost nine years. I’m hoping she’ll think she made a mistake and will forget all about me.”
“Is she the kind of person who would keep such information to herself?”
“No,” Amelia said ruefully. “She is a terrible gossip.”
He patted her gloved hand. “Then perhaps we should expect a call from her.”
“Only if she can work out where I am staying and who you are. Even then she probably won’t dare to call without permission.”
“Knowing the size of London society and its propensity for gossip, I doubt it will take her long. I’ve already received several invitations from various hostesses. I suspect my grandmother and cousin Felicity have been busy writing letters to ease our passage back into society.”
“Oh, drat.”
Stortford House came in sight, and they walked up the steps to the black paneled front door.
Marcus paused to look down at her. “Are you worried about this woman? Would it help to tell me who she is?”
Amelia let out her breath. “I suppose you’ll find out anyway. That was my mother.”
The door opened, and she swept past the butler, leaving Marcus stranded on the step. He caught up with her at her bedroom door.
“Your
mother
?”
“We all have one, you know.” She went in and he followed her, waiting silently as she took off her bonnet and pelisse.
“But—”
“You said you didn’t need to know about my family.”
“Before I married you.” He nodded. “Now we are a couple. I would like to think you could trust me with the facts of the matter.”
She sat down at her dressing table and patted her hair, watching his reflection in the mirror. “It must be fairly obvious to you what happened. My parents didn’t approve of Matthew as a potential husband. I disagreed, and I ran away with him to France.”
“When did you meet him?”
“During my first Season.” Amelia picked up her hairbrush. “At an afternoon picnic at his commanding officer’s house. He’d been brought in to ensure the house and grounds were secure. I met him in one of the gardens and liked him immediately.”
“But your parents didn’t approve.”
“How could they? He was of a far lower social class
and
half American.”
“Almost a foreigner.”
“Exactly.”
Marcus crossed over to the bed and sat on the side of it. “How old were you?”
“Seventeen, why?”
“Did you know what you wanted at that age?”
“Yes.” She held his gaze. “I wanted to marry someone I could love and not someone my parents chose for me because of their wealth or position. I fell in love with Matthew the moment I saw him.”
“Did you ever doubt that choice?”
She considered his question for a few moments, reviewing her marriage in her head as a series of pictures. “We argued, we disagreed and I made many mistakes. I think Matthew was shocked to discover just how ignorant of real life his new wife was, but we muddled through and we loved each other.”
Marcus nodded and smoothed a hand over the silk counterpane.
“After he died. Did you inform your parents?”
“I wrote to them, yes.”
“And?”
“They didn’t contact me.”
His hand stilled. “I’m sorry, Amelia.”
“Why? I was almost glad that they didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I would’ve hated having to go back and beg for forgiveness. And they would have insisted that I begged, and even then, they might still have turned me away.”
“And you think I am stubborn.”
She sighed. “I’m not the same girl anymore, Marcus. I’ve seen and done things that would be beyond my parent’s comprehension. I couldn’t return to being that innocent, docile child they’d expect. I’d suffocate.”
“Come here.”
He patted the bed, and she walked over to stand in front of him. He put his hands on her waist and drew her between his thighs.
“I understand.”
She raised a wary eyebrow at him.
“I, too, feel like something of an imposter. I’m not the idealistic fool who left home despite his father’s warnings to defend his country. I lost that man—that overgrown
boy
—somewhere in France, and I’ll never find him or be him again.” His smile was sad. “The difference between us is that you like the person you have become and I…” He grimaced. “I still don’t know who I am, or what I intend to do next.”
She stroked his cheek. “You have survived things that would’ve broken most men and still returned home. You have barely rediscovered your identity. I fear you are being too hard on yourself.”
“You think things will get better?” He raised his dark blue gaze to hers.
“I am quite certain they will. Your health will improve, your memory will return and—”
“I’m not sure I want to remember all of it.” He blinked and looked away. “I think I might go mad.”
She kissed his unsmiling mouth. “I am here. I will not allow you to drown in your memories. What happened to you was horrible, but you have the chance to forge a new path for yourself.”
“After I’ve dealt with Jack.”
She searched his face. “You won’t kill him.”
“I’ve had enough of killing to last me five lifetimes. But what Jack did?” His hands tightened at her waist. “What’s one more life when he took so many?”
Amelia sighed. “
Try
not to kill him.”
His slow smile was something of a surprise and a relief. “I promised you I wouldn’t.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” He leaned forward and captured her mouth, and she surrendered to his kiss. Within seconds, he sat her on his lap and his hands delved beneath her petticoats to cup her buttocks.
“Marcus…”
“Yes, my dear?”
“It is still daylight.”
“And we are an old married couple in our own house who have nothing else to do with our time except be waited upon by servants.” He kissed her more thoroughly, molding her flesh against the rise of his breeches-covered cock. “Neither of us have a single duty to perform except this. In fact, it is our first duty to the family to procreate. It’s quite freeing, isn’t it?”
With a sigh, she pushed his coat off, unpinned his cravat and started on the buttons of his waistcoat. “I am not used to being idle.”
“Then concentrate on entertaining your husband.”
She undid the fall of his breeches and pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his scarred skin to the light. Kissing his shoulder, she breathed in his unique scent.
“You promise to keep me busy?”
His fingers worked on the back of her gown, loosening it from her shoulders. “Yes, my lady. As busy and fulfilled as I can.”
From across the crowded room, the Duchess of Diable Delamere beckoned graciously to Amelia who nudged her husband.
“Marcus, we are being summoned.”
They had decided to accept an invitation to a picnic at the home of one of Marcus’s grandmother’s best friends. The Marchioness of Evesham also happened to be one of the most foremost hostesses of the London Season. Everyone who aspired to be anyone was at the gathering. Amelia was pleased that she was wearing one of her new gowns and that she didn’t look too out of place.
She’d recognized a few of the faces she’d come out with all those years ago. Most of them looked the same; some of them—especially the men—seemed to have gone to rack and ruin. None of them spoke to her or acknowledged her openly, although she was aware of the whispering that followed her and Marcus as they had progressed through the rooms and onto the verandah where a sumptuous repast had been laid out.
“Ah, there you are, Lady Havering,” the duchess called as Amelia and Marcus approached her. Thank goodness there was no sign of her enigmatic spouse. “Are you enjoying the party?”
Amelia curtsied, and Marcus bowed over the duchess’s hand. “Duchess. Lady Evesham was kind enough to invite two nonentities to her event. We are quite overwhelmed.”
The duchess raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. Hardly nonentities. The whole of society is buzzing about your return from the dead, my lord. The Marchioness has pulled off a rare coup in coaxing you to attend her event.”
“We had noticed we were causing a stir,” Marcus said. “But luckily, this is such a large gathering that we have been able to enjoy ourselves remarkably well despite that.”
Amelia noted that Marcus was perfectly capable of being polite when he wanted to be. His years away had left no mark on his company manners, which were probably so engrained in him that he probably wasn’t even aware of having them.
The duchess nodded. “Personally, I prefer smaller events where I can talk sense to people without constantly being interrupted.” She plied her fan. “The duke insisted I must put in an appearance here today. I suspect he does it to keep me busy and from prying into his business.”
Amelia hid a smile at the duchess’s frankness. She suspected that beneath her competent social appearance, the duchess was a very interesting woman and one she would like to call friend if the situation hadn’t been so complex.
“I must admit that social events such as these haven’t featured in my daily life for many years, Your Grace.”
The duchess drew Amelia’s arm through hers and started to promenade around the perimeter of the room. Amelia looked back helplessly at Marcus, who shrugged his shoulders.
“Where were you living before your marriage, my lady?” the duchess asked.
“In a small village on the coast with my aunt by marriage.”
“Ah, that’s right. The duke did tell me. Your first husband was also a military man, wasn’t he?”
“The duke seems to know a lot about me, Your Grace. I have no idea why.”
“Because you are now married to Major Stortford—a man my husband is very interested in indeed.” She glanced at Amelia. “The duke has written to Jack.”
“We assumed he would do so. Marcus is very keen on seeing Jack again.”
The duchess patted her hand. “So I gathered from the duke. I do hope he will give Jack a chance to explain himself. His life has not been easy since his return from Spain.”
“You mentioned that you held Jack in high regard, Your Grace.” Amelia took a quick breath. “May I ask what you want me to do about this matter? You do want something from me, do you not?”
“You are as intelligent as I thought, my lady, and loyal to your husband. Both qualities I value highly in a woman and potential friend.”