Desire Me Always

For Scott

Highgate, London, 1881

T
his wedding was happening today.

The wedding of all weddings, even if it was planned in haste, Amelia Grant had managed to snag one of London's most sought-after bachelors.

Amelia screwed up her nose as she stared at the sad sight of her reflection in the dressing table mirror. It was a shame she looked the way she did, because it quelled some of her confidence on a day that was supposed to be special.

An abrasion—still raw and tender—ran three inches along her hairline and across her temple. There was a jagged, slightly swollen cut at the side of her mouth that hurt if she smiled too brightly. But her face was far from the only part of her body to have sustained injury.

The rope burns that wrapped around her wrists were a constant reminder of just how helpless she'd been at the hands of two madmen. Where her collarbone was bared above her chemise, deep purple bruises marred her pale skin.

Frustrated by the dreadful vision she made, Amelia looked down at the array of cosmetics Lady Burley had obtained for her, the sole woman to see the horrors of Amelia's physical appearance. Lord and Lady Burley had traveled to Highgate to negotiate the purchase of some of the properties Nick had taken over with the Caldon Manor acquisition. Amelia truly appreciated Lady Burley's kindness since the
incident
.

Amelia opened up jars of cream and powder; she wasn't sure where to begin, as she'd never worn cosmetics—that simply was not something a lady should wear.

Carefully—and a little skeptically—she dabbed some of the creamy concoction on her bruised cheek with the tip of her finger; she was surprised by how well it covered the unsightly mark. Having her injuries made invisible—or near to—had her lip curling up in a smile.

The day was already looking brighter, and for the first time this morning, fluttering of nervousness and excitement snaked through her body.

With her face looking somewhat normal, Amelia loosened her plaited hair and let it fall in dark waves around her face and shoulders. She was unsure how she should arrange it as her hands tired quickly—a result of being trussed up like a Christmas goose during her capture. Twirling the strands about her hand, she twisted it low at her nape.

A light tap sounded on Amelia's chamber door, startling her enough that she dropped her hair.

“It's Lady Burley.”

“Please come in,” Amelia called back.

Lady Burley walked into Amelia's room. The woman was beautiful and regal as ever.

“I came to see what assistance I might provide,” Lady Burley announced. “I even brought maids with me.”

It was a kind gesture that lifted Amelia's spirits greatly.

“How wonderful,” she said.

Lady Burley wore a genuine smile that was hard not to reciprocate as Amelia looked at her in the glass above her dressing table. With her dark hair and freckled complexion, Lady Burley looked more like a country girl who spent her days outdoors than the countess of a prominent—and very business-savvy—earl. Regardless, there was an air of elegance that swathed the woman and made Amelia slightly envious that she did not have the same refinement. Even though Amelia was the daughter of an impoverished earl and had a lady's upbringing, she had never had an opportunity to practice and perfect the social graces she'd learned as a child.

“Your kindness means a great deal to me, Lady Burley.”

“You are marrying my husband's dearest friend,” Lady Burley said. “It is only natural for friendship to blossom between us. And it's hard to resist some early celebration for the day.”

“And were I not marrying Nick?” Amelia didn't intend to sound quite so cynical, but she'd had few people she could rely on growing up and not one steady friend in the whole of her life.

“Impossible. It was only a matter of time before Nick walked you down the aisle. He's been besotted since he first introduced you at the Langtry dinner.”

The Langtry was London's finest hotel and owned by Hart, another of Nick's friends. Dining there had been the first social function she'd attended with Nick, and it had been a night never to forget.

It had been a night of firsts.

A jolt of shame and embarrassment flushed through Amelia for her indiscretions. “I hadn't realized we were so . . . obvious.”

“I doubt everyone present was as observant,” Lady Burley assured her. “You shouldn't let it worry you. You will be married by day's end.”

Still, she didn't want assumptions about their hasty marriage. Nick had obtained special permission and a permit to marry without the proper banns being read. Yet such a precipitous move would have members of society wondering whether or not she was with child, which she was not; Nick had a special tea made for her daily to ensure it. All assumptions aside, she hoped everyone saw how much she loved Nick and how much he loved her. She hated to be judged harshly.

Lady Burley reached for Amelia's brush and separated her hair in four parts before raking the bristles through it. “I meant what I said; you shouldn't worry what others believe. Who are they to judge Mrs. Riley? You'll be richer than most lords and ladies—they do despise when those they deem beneath them are more successful—and you are far kinder than the majority of them.” Lady Burley clucked her tongue as she ran her fingers through Amelia's hair, pulling out any knots that remained. “You know . . . this is the last thing you should be thinking about when today is meant for celebration.”

A maid entered carrying a silver tray with two glasses of champagne in perfect timing of Lady Burley's words. Lady Burley picked up both of the bubbling glasses, handing one to Amelia. They clinked their glasses together. Amelia set her glass down after the first sip. If she drank the whole glass, she doubted she'd be able to walk down the aisle straight.

“I never imagined I would marry for necessity,” Amelia admitted.

The necessity being that they were known to have shared a bed the night of her kidnapping.

“Or in haste.” Amelia didn't think that it would matter whether they waited a week or a month, as long as they married. Apparently to Nick, it did matter. Not that she was complaining.

She wanted Nick to be her husband. Wanted to be addressed as Mrs. Riley. She wanted the world to know how much she loved him.

“Nick is a determined man once his mind is made up,” Lady Burley said.

Which was true.

Amelia's lips tilted up in a careful smile. Nick would not take no for an answer once he'd asked for her hand in marriage. That determination was part of what she loved so much about him. But was that enough to bind them together for the rest of their lives? They had known each other for only a short time.

Surely all brides had these worries before making that final leap toward marriage.

Amelia held out some hairpins for Lady Burley. “I cannot express how grateful I am for all the help you have given me, but I can arrange my own hair,” Amelia said.

“Not on your own wedding day. Besides, I am only starting your hair.” Lady Burley plucked the pins from Amelia's hand. “Getting the front just perfect. One of the maids has gone in search of a few hairpieces to hold the veil in place.”

“There's a veil?”

This was . . . unexpected. Amelia eyed her blush-pink day dress spread out over her bed. A veil would not suit the sunny color she'd chosen for today.

“How can a wedding be complete without a veil? Nick commissioned the local milliner to make it. She said your husband was in luck that she had lace on hand. Victoria would have made it, had she had more time, but she did ensure your dress arrived this morning and in time for the big day.”

And
there was a dress?

Amelia's eyes filled with tears. All these people had come together to make this day perfect. They must love Nick a great deal. It was no surprise to her when his great accomplishments and successes were from lifting up people in dire circumstances and giving them a chance to prove their worth and ability—her included among those ranks.

Then it dawned on her who had made the dress, and her expression changed to one of suspicion.

“You said Victoria made the dress?”

Surely Lady Burley was mistaken about Nick's ex-lover wanting to help out in any way.

“She did. It was fortunate that she had your measurements on hand.”

This news stunned Amelia. While the woman had reluctantly made her dresses more suiting to her role as Nick's secretary and companion at dinner parties, it was with great
reluctance
and, Amelia was sure, Nick's insistence. While there was no love lost between her and Victoria, she couldn't refuse the gift. Not when she suspected that Nick pulled strings to make their wedding day special.

“And here I thought I would wear my best day dress for the occasion,” Amelia said. “What does it look like?”

“I know you will be pleased.” Lady Burley stuck another pin in Amelia's hair. “Victoria's done a wonderful job in such a short time.”

“Is she here?” The venom that filled Amelia's voice was undeniable. Lady Burley was either clueless to Amelia's feelings, or she gracefully chose to ignore the undertone of dislike Amelia had difficulty hiding.

“She couldn't leave the store today, and I guarantee you that she had no desire to see Nick married to another.”

A horrible thought struck Amelia.

“Does she still love him?” Amelia slapped her hand over her mouth. She couldn't believe she'd spoken without thought of what she was asking. One didn't fall easily out of love, so likely, Victoria loved and wanted Nick to herself.

“I forget how little experience you have with London's social politics. There is no doubt in my mind that there is love in the form of friendship between them, but Victoria . . . ” Lady Burley tapped her lips in thought. “How does one delicately say it?”

Amelia stared back at Lady Burley's reflection in the mirror, unsure of to what she was alluding.

“Victoria's one and only true love is power. She has to be in complete control in every situation. Actually, you could equate her to the feminine version of Nick. And we women well know that what is highly regarded in men going on about their business is not looked upon brightly when women take on those same characteristics, especially in the union of marriage.”

Amelia had to bite her tongue. Her main dislike for Victoria was rooted in jealousy, as Victoria had been Nick's lover at one time. But they had broken off before Amelia had ever met Nick. Being so different, as compared to Victoria, made her feel somewhat inferior. Hearing Lady Burley say Victoria was an equal to Nick made her cross. Amelia was an equal to Nick, and she would have it no other way.

Amelia's emotions got the better of her, and her eyes filled with tears. Those tears weren't for Victoria but for the fears that had been building up these past few days. A fear that the wedding was all a dream, that Nick was only an imagination, considering how fast everything had happened between them. And the biggest of the fears was that she'd wake up any moment and be back at home in Berwick with her brother lording over her, filling her life with the misery she'd grown used to while living under his heavy hand.

The brush stilled as Lady Burley met Amelia's gaze in the mirror. “Oh, Nick didn't tell you any of this. Forgive me for my forwardness.”

How Amelia kept her tears from falling was nothing short of a miracle. “It's not that. I truly appreciate your honesty. It's just that I have been the proverbial watering pot since . . . ”

She didn't want to discuss her kidnapping. Not now, not today. Maybe not ever.

“I'm not sure why Nick wants to marry me when it seems that bad luck has followed me from the onset of our first meeting.”

“The heart knows what it wants.”

“Does it?”

“You have been through more than most people could handle. Do not believe for one moment that you have to explain yourself to anyone. Nick wouldn't have offered marriage if he wasn't willing to make the commitment required for such a momentous promise. Now, let's focus on the day ahead and not the past that led you here.” Lady Burley pulled something from her pocket and revealed the prettiest hair combs Amelia had ever laid eyes upon. “Would you prefer the pearls for your hair or the gold studs?”

Lady Burley's lightened the mood with her good humor.

It wasn't that Amelia was having second thoughts of marrying Nick; far from it. She just hated the fact that his hand was forced and that he was marrying her out of necessity. Perhaps it was natural for doubts to linger after a life-changing event. Perhaps this was all part of marriage.

The only thing that should be occupying her thoughts was happiness. After today she would be Mrs. Nicholas Riley. She had wanted this from the beginning. Nick had been forthcoming in his desire to keep her as his own, and she was making the irrevocable step in making that happen. Who was she to refute his claim over her when his determination to possess her sent a thrill of giddiness through her?

Amelia picked up her champagne glass and took another sip, a smile lighting up her whole face. Mrs. Nicholas Riley indeed.

T
oday was the day.

The day Nick Riley would lay claim to his bride in front of his friends, in front of a God he had trouble believing in, considering the life he came from, and in front of all the eyes in the church that glanced at him with a gamut of emotions—from envy to fear . . . and respect.

Over the past few days, he'd heard the townsfolk's gossip. The talk had been all about Amelia's kidnapping, her injuries, and his inability to save her before she'd been harmed.

That failure was his alone.

One for which he would atone for the rest of his life. It was his fault he'd brought her to this godforsaken village, insisted on her attendance, insisted she sleep next to him in his bed. He'd sullied her reputation with his greed to have her at his side and his need to possess her.