Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (5 page)

Captain Hillary smirked. “Might I offer you an escort home?”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed on Bibi. Was this a ploy to leave the party with the gentleman?

Her friend shook her head. “Thank you for the kind offer, sir, but I imagine Lady Audley would allow me the use of her carriage. Perhaps the footman could call for it now?” She held her ankle and winced.

Oh, dear. Bibi must have truly suffered an injury to compel her to rebuff Captain Hillary’s offer. Amelia’s annoyance evaporated.

Mrs. Hillary looked to Jake. He nodded and slipped from the room.

“I should collect my shawl,” Amelia said and started for the door.

“You needn’t leave the party on my account,” Bibi said.

Amelia stopped to study her friend’s pallor. Her cheeks boasted lots of color and pain no longer clouded her eyes. She couldn’t be recovering already, could she?

“Don’t be silly,” Amelia said. “I would not feel right about staying without you.”

“But you haven’t spoken with Lady Eldridge or the duchess yet.”

Nor did she expect either lady would deign to speak with her now. It was disappointing that she had been unable to secure more support this evening, but Bibi’s welfare must be considered at the moment. “I will call on Lady Eldridge and Her Grace another day. There is still time to garner support before the board makes a decision.”

Mrs. Hillary stepped forward. “Allow me to call for your shawl, dear. It was the beautiful gold embroidered one, was it not?”

Amelia nodded.

Mrs. Hillary and Jake met at the double-hung oak doors. Moving aside, he allowed his mother to pass.

“The carriage is driving up the street,” Jake announced.

Captain Hillary swept Bibi into his arms again and carried her toward the entrance, taking care not to hit her foot on the door frame.

Amelia followed to wait in the spacious foyer for Mrs. Hillary to return with her shawl. “I will be along in a moment,” she called after Bibi.

Jake halted on the fringes of the room and crossed his arms, assuming a brooding silence. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, increasingly uncomfortable with his change in demeanor. What had happened between their waltz and now to make him so surly?

“You are leaving,” he said at last. A simple enough statement. So why did it sound like an accusation?

She inhaled sharply, preparing to give him a piece of her mind, to declare
he
was the one to leave first, but Mrs. Hillary bustled in with an expensive emerald green shawl belonging to someone else.

“Lady Audley, please accept my apologies. It seems your shawl has been misplaced. Please, take mine, and I’ll have yours brought around when it is found.”

Amelia restrained herself from snatching the offering and dashing out the door. “Good evening, Mr. Hillary.”

“My lady,” he said with an incline of his head.

Mrs. Hillary escorted her outside. “Now do not fret, dear. I have already spoken with Lady Eldridge and Her Grace. They are enamored with your project and will lend their full support.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hillary. You have been a godsend to the children.”

Amelia didn’t glance back to see if Jake watched her leave, but he hadn’t followed them to the door. She did her best to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach.

Outside, Captain Hillary assisted her into the carriage and bowed. “Until we meet again, ladies.”

He closed the door and secured the handle before the conveyance pulled away from Hillary House.

“Oh, thank heavens.” Amelia sighed and sank into the cushions.

Bibi glared across the carriage; the shadows created by the light glow of the lamp made her features more severe. “I hand you Mr. Hillary on a platter and
you
leave the party?”

Amelia blinked. “Pardon?”

“I intended to strand you at Hillary House.” Bibi tossed her head. “Honestly, Amelia. Mr. Hillary is too gallant to ignore a lady in need, especially one he desires. He would have escorted you home, and must I enlighten you on the rest?”

Amelia held up a palm. “Please, say no more.” She leaned forward. “Are you deranged?”

With a huff, Bibi slumped on the carriage bench. “I’m beginning to question my sanity for giving up Mr. Hillary. Lucky for you, he has an equally handsome brother rendezvousing with me in an hour.”

“And your ankle?”

Her friend threw her arms wide. “Amelia, have you not been listening? I have no injury.” She chuckled in response to Amelia’s jaw dropping. “I know. I should have been an actress. Bloody shame it’s not a profession open to aristocracy.”

Only Bibi would concoct such a harebrained scheme. “Perhaps you should share your brilliant plans before launching into theatrics next time, dearest.”

With a smile, her friend shrugged. “How was I to know you were such a noddy? I always thought you clever. I will do you no more favors.”

“I’ll thank you to keep your word.”

“If you desire a tumble with that gorgeous man, you must do the work yourself.”

Blessed
be.
Amelia closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “And what makes you certain Mr. Hillary desires a tumble?”

“What else could he possibly want? He’s a man.”

A man who blew hot and cold with no predictability. Amelia would be a noddy indeed to hope for anything from Jake.

Jake was sore, glum, and foul-tempered the morning after Daniel’s party, proving unfulfilled desires made for poor bedfellows. They created the perfect frame of mind for boxing, however.

Daniel’s pained grunt was the sweetest sound he’d heard all week. Jake repeated a jab to his brother’s kidney to hear it again. The bones in his forearm shuddered with the impact. Daniel was massive and built like a bull. One solid hit from him could knock Jake into the afterlife. Fortunately, Daniel had sluggish feet, and Jake had no qualms about using his speed and agility to trounce his brother.

Jake leapt back when Daniel swung a clunky fist for his midsection, missing his tender parts by a fraction of an inch. He took advantage of his brother’s unprotected jaw to nail him with a left hammer.

“Hellfire!” Jake’s fist burned something terrible in spite of the protection of a muffler. He retreated, bouncing around the ring as he shook out his hand. “Your head is harder than a damned boulder.”

“Not hard enough,” Daniel said with a groan as he slumped to the ground. He rested his forearms on his knees and panted. “Couldn’t you allow me one hit today?”

“Not and live to speak of it. Do you yield?”

“Until next time, pup.”

Jake tugged off his gloves and walked to where his brother sat bested. His mood had improved with the exercise more so than defeating his opponent. Despite Daniel’s ability to aggravate, he was his brother, and on most days Jake was fond of him. Tucking one of the gloves under his arm, he offered Daniel a hand up.

“Much appreciated.”

Jake accepted congratulations from the other gents en route to the dressing room.

“Did you mar my face?” Daniel tipped his jaw up to reveal the beginnings of a bluish bruise.

“Anything is an improvement to that ugly mug,” he teased.

Daniel smirked. “The ladies rarely complain.”

Jake shrugged on his shirt. “I would hardly classify them as ladies, and I don’t believe it is your face that impresses them.”

His brother snorted with laughter and snatched his own shirt from a chair.

Jake chuckled as well. “I meant they are attracted to your large purse.”

“It’s not only my purse the ladies enjoy.”

Jake threw his discarded shirt at his head, but Daniel caught it.

They dressed in companionable silence then decided to walk back to Hillary House for further exercise. Jake adjusted his hat as they stepped into the bright sunlight. “You do realize,” his brother said, “I’m not required to pay for my pleasure. In fact, I tumbled a proper lady last night.”

Jake lifted an eyebrow. “A
proper
lady allowed you in her bed?”

Daniel shrugged. “I suppose I may have overstated the quality of the lady involved, but she is a lady in the strictest sense so I had to slip into her house undetected.”

The clomping of their boots echoed in the ensuing silence. Daniel couldn’t mean he had bedded Amelia, could he? She
had
been his intended bed partner last night. A tight twisting began in Jake’s gut, moved into his chest, up his neck, and into his jaw until he felt fashioned of stone. It didn’t stop with his body but invaded his mind to twist his thoughts. If Daniel had gotten to her…

Jake halted in the middle of the walkway. “Who the bloody hell was it?”

Daniel stopped as well. The corner of his lip inched up. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to say.”

Jake’s fingers curled into fists. Perhaps they had ended their session at the saloon too soon.

“Let’s just say she wasn’t the one I truly wanted.” Daniel winked. “Yet.” He dashed ahead, laughing.

Jake’s tension melted away. With a shake of his head, he followed at a stroll, recognizing that his brother teased him. Nevertheless, he would remind Daniel once they reached the town house that he lost the bet last night. Amelia was no longer an option, and though she didn’t want Jake, Daniel couldn’t have her either. That seemed a fair arrangement.

Lying in bed last night, Jake hadn’t been able to shake the memory of holding Amelia in his arms while they danced. She felt right with him, but he seemed to be the only one to recognize how they suited.

Just as he had gathered the wherewithal to ask her about his unanswered letters, she had dashed away. He couldn’t help but to feel discouraged by her lack of curiosity over his desire to speak with her even as he admired her loyalty to her friend.

Never once had Amelia acknowledged his declarations of love or offer for her hand, which spoke of her feelings about him. She cared nothing for him. Selecting a wife from among the debutantes would serve him better. Unfortunately, they all possessed one fatal flaw.

None of them was Amelia.

On the day he had spied her shopping on Bond Street in preparation for her debut five years earlier, he had been struck mute in the middle of a sentence. David Audley had teased him without mercy, but he hadn’t cared.

Jake’s desire for her had only grown stronger as the season progressed. A generous heart resided beneath her ethereal beauty, and he had known with certainty she was the one for him.

And while he had attempted to work out the best way to court Amelia, for he had wanted everything to be perfect, his best friend played him false and wooed her in secret.

Shaking off his familiar anger, he entered Hillary House. The butler stepped forward to take his hat and gloves. “Captain Hillary awaits you in the blue drawing room.”

“Thank you, Hogan.” Jake headed for the drawing room to join his brother for a drink.

Daniel had already helped himself to a brandy and lounged in a chair with his foot propped over his knee. “What took you so long?”

Jake’s brows rose. “Perhaps I was not eager for more of your company.” Despite his words, he had missed his brother while he was at sea. The only true source of conflict between them was Daniel’s cool treatment of their mother—that, and his brother’s insistence on behaving like a first-rate scoundrel. He should show more respect for himself.

Crossing to the sideboard, Jake poured a brandy before assuming the adjacent chair. “Daniel, I’m curious. Why is it you rent that rat’s nest when you have a perfectly good home on Curzon Street?” His brother’s glass paused midair. He took his time contemplating an answer, and Jake sipped his drink while he waited.

“I don’t entertain lightskirts at my residence.”

The brandy went down the wrong way, causing Jake to sputter and spew his drink, sparking a string of curses from his brother.

“Sorry,” Jake mumbled once he recovered.

Daniel jerked a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and blotted his face. “This whole sharing among siblings is overprized. I have my own spirits, thank you.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“And as I was saying, I confine certain activities to the appropriate settings. I don’t wish to cause an uproar with the servants.”

“I see.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Before Daniel could launch into his usual tirade about Jake’s tendency to adhere too closely to societal expectations, their mother glided into the room.

“Excellent. You have returned.” She shook a fist of sheer fabric with gold edging at Jake. “The servants located Lady Audley’s shawl. She may need it, so be quick about it.”

Jake frowned. “Be quick about it? What is your meaning?”

She shook the shawl again. “The phaeton is prepared. I want you to deliver this to the lady.”

“Send one of the footmen.”

Her hands landed on her hips, the shawl cascading almost to the ground. “Send a footman? Darling, they are much too busy with their duties.” She thrust the shimmering material at him again. “I ask very little of you, Jake.”

“I would be happy to assist, Mother.” Daniel set his glass on a side table and prepared to push himself from his chair.

Jake bolted from his seat and grabbed the fabric before his brother could stand. “She asked me.”

If Daniel thought Jake would allow him to call on Amelia, he was deluding himself.

***

Amelia spread orange marmalade on her toast and scanned the pages of
The
Morning
Times
as she ate breakfast alone. She had been following the same routine since moving to the Park Street town house after her husband’s death. In fact, her routine dated back to the early days of her marriage.

Had Audley ever shared breakfast with her? Often he had remained in bed after a late night out, or he never made it home. Whatever entertainments he sought outside their marriage bed left her engaged in solitary pursuits, much like her childhood. After her mother’s death, her father had become like an apparition floating in and out of her life as it suited him.

She frowned and turned the page, smoothing the wrinkles with her hand. Why Audley had bothered marrying her was still a mystery to her. She hadn’t carried a large dowry, and there were more accomplished young ladies presented that season. Of course, he
had
professed to love her, which seemed a nice sentiment, one that had piqued Amelia’s interest at the time. Yet, oddly, a man’s love felt similar to his indifference.

Her butler entered the breakfast room, impatience flashing in his eyes. “Lady Kennell has come to call.”

Amelia suspected Bradford found Bibi’s early hours for visits improper, but she didn’t mind. Her friend made certain she was never alone for long, and Amelia loved her for her efforts.

“Please, show her in.”

Bibi burst through the doorway. “I
told
you she would see me, Bradford.” Obviously, she had eavesdropped outside the breakfast room.

Strolling in, she took a seat as if she resided at Verona House, which she should, considering she spent most of her time there. “And I’ll take eggs and toast with honey, crusts cut off.”

“Yes, milady.” Bradford’s tone left little doubt her demands irritated him.

Bibi winked at Amelia. “Oh, and Bradford?” Sweetness dripped from her words like the honey she had requested.

He halted with a sigh. “Yes, Lady Kennell?”

She flashed her white teeth in response to his dour expression. “I would appreciate a smile when
you
serve my tea.”

“Thank you, Bradford,” Amelia added, “but it won’t be necessary for you to serve Lady Kennell. One of the footmen will do.”

Poor Bradford. Bibi took pleasure in tormenting Amelia’s servant.

After a stiff bow, he swept from the room.

“When he serves notice, you are finding his replacement,” Amelia warned.

Bibi leaned against the white velvet seat cushion. “He’ll never leave. He secretly loves me.”

Amelia shook her head and chuckled. “As do all men, or so you continuously inform me. I didn’t expect to see you here this early.”

Bibi’s gaze meandered around the room. “I have always adored the quaintness of Verona House.”

Amelia loved her cozy home, too. After the move, she had thrown herself into redecorating every room in the house. The project had helped to keep her agonizing thoughts at bay after Audley’s death, such as how repulsive must one be to drive a husband away?

A footman ambled into the room with Bibi’s breakfast but left upon a single glance from Amelia.

Slumping against the chair, Bibi gave a heavy sigh.

Amelia suppressed a smile. She wouldn’t be an easy quarry. If her friend wished to discuss whatever woe plagued her today, she would have to be forthcoming.

Arching her eyebrows, she made a show of studying Bibi’s plate. “Has something gone awry with your breakfast, dearest? Cook trimmed the crusts.”

Her friend wrinkled her nose. “There’s nothing wrong with my toast.”

“Your eggs are not to your liking?”

Bibi slapped the table. “Again, you toy with me. There is nothing wrong with my breakfast. Ask me what troubles me before I burst.”

Amelia chuckled. “Or you
could
simply tell me.”

“Where’s the fun in that? I much prefer having you coax confessions from me.”

Folding her arms, Amelia leaned on the table, attempting to hide her amusement, and suspecting she did so poorly. “Very well. Darling Bibi, you seem out of sorts this morning. Please, oh, please tell me what tragedy has befallen you.”

Now Bibi laughed. “You mustn’t be so dramatic.” She took a bite of toast, her expression sobering as she chewed. “I have come to believe all men are the same. None cares a whit about pleasing a woman. They all do the same tired things, no creativity whatsoever. And
then
they only do it for a minute before they’re ready for the main event.”

Amelia sipped her tea. Assuming Bibi spoke of Captain Hillary, she experienced more than a little discomfort.

“I wish to find a man who takes his time. One who really cares if I enjoy myself, too,” Bibi said. “Do you think a man like that exists?”

Her chocolate eyes searched Amelia’s as if she had answers when it came to gentlemen.