Lord Sinister (Secrets & Scandals Book 3) (16 page)

Amelia tightened her grip on the large black bag she held in her hands and watched Nicholas turn to the barren fireplace and bow his head.  The woman standing beside him, obviously his mother, placed a hand on his back and spoke softly into his ear.

“But Megan is going to be all right, isn’t she?” Margaret asked, her voice strained.

Kenbrook gathered her in his arms.  “Of course she’ll be all right, Maggie, my love.  You forget how strong our little girl is.”  He grazed his lips across her forehead, his hand sliding up and down her back.

Amelia turned away, lest she get caught gaping.  Nobles didn’t fall in love, much less show it.  But Julian’s parents obviously loved each other deeply.  She studied the little mauve rosebuds embroidered along the hem of her dress, puzzled.  A pressure of some sort continued to build in the center of her chest.  Then the strange sensation dawned on her, and she closed her eyes.

Yearning.  A yearning so intense, it nearly took her breath away, but it could not be denied.  She wanted Julian’s love.

She wanted to howl.  She wanted to throw herself onto the ground and bawl like a babe.  How could she have let this happen?  She could no longer deny that she was desperately in love with Julian and wanted his love in return.  But oh, what a fool she was!  Wasn’t being ripped apart once by this man enough?

“Are you all right?”

Startled, Amelia lifted her head and found Julian standing before her, his warm palms burning into her upper arms.  How had he gotten so close?  She stiffened, about to take a step back, when he pulled her against him.

As the heat of Julian’s body engulfed her, all of the chaos swirling within her calmed in that instant.  She melted against him, powerless to halt her reaction.  She had no control over her body whenever Julian stood near.  She was the puppet, and he the puppet master.  Where he led, she followed blindly.

When Julian pulled away and turned, Amelia opened her eyes, blinking as though she had been asleep.  Then she noticed Dr. Kellerman walking into the room, and everything rushed back into her mind, making her feel ashamed for forgetting about Megan even for a brief moment.

Nicholas sprang from his chair.  “How is she?”

The sadness in the doctor’s eyes and the slump of his shoulders attested that the news would be grim.  Amelia held her breath, waiting for the answer.

“The babe will not turn,” Dr. Kellerman said in a hoarse voice.

Amelia felt Julian stiffen at the same time the Duke of Kenbrook walked up to the doctor, making the poor man pale.  “And what does that mean, exactly?  Is my little girl going to die?”

Dr. Kellerman removed a handkerchief and swiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with a trembling hand.  “U-Unless the babe turns, th-there is not much I can do.”

The room went silent for a heartbeat, then erupted.  Nicholas, Julian, and Joseph surrounded the poor man, demanding he not let Megan die, while Nicholas’s mother and Margaret embraced each other and began to sob.

Amelia took a deep breath, her hands tightening on the handle of the black satchel she still carried, and marched up to Nicholas.  “Your Grace.”  When he didn’t respond, she tapped his shoulder.  “I can help Megan.”

Nicholas spun around.  His pain-wracked eyes searched hers, then lowered to the bag in her hands.  After a moment of indecision, he nodded.  “Come,” he said with a tinge of desperation, “this way.”

Amelia began following Nicholas across the room until Julian’s father held up his hand.  “Nicholas, what are you doing?”

Cringing inwardly, she halted.  Nicholas, however, took her arm and gently led her past.  “She can help, Joseph,” he said, opening the door to the bedroom.

Amelia breathed a sigh when they entered the room and Nicholas closed the door behind them.  It came open a moment later.  “Your Grace!” Dr. Kellerman hastened forward.

“Amelia can help.”  Nicholas shook his head.  “Amelia will help.”

Amelia didn’t know whether Nicholas had that much faith in her, or if it had merely been wishful thinking, but at the moment, she didn’t care.  Her eyes had traveled to Megan’s small form lying still beneath a mass of blankets.  She also wanted to pass out from the room’s heat.  Her clothes already felt sticky against her skin.

Turning to the fireplace, Amelia found a roaring fire and bit back a curse.  Instead, she moved toward the bed.  “Nicholas, put out that fire,” she said over her shoulder; “lest I swoon from the heat.”

Hearing the doctor sputter almost made her smile.  Then she reached the bed and all mirth vanished.  Megan’s face had no color, her dark hair had plastered to her forehead and cheeks, and beads of wetness dotted her upper lip.

Amelia shook her head, then stripped away every last blanket.

“Now see here,” Dr. Kellerman said, marching forward.  “You can’t—”

Amelia gritted her teeth.  “The heat is draining her energy.”

The doctor shook his head.  “That—”

“Dr. Kellerman,” Nicholas said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Wasting no more time, Amelia headed to the nearby washbowl to cleanse her hands.  “Now give me a clean piece of linen, doctor.  And hurry.”

After scrubbing her hands clean, she hurried back to the bed.  “Megan?” She pressed a damp cloth over the duchess’ sweaty face.  “Can you hear me?”

Megan stirred and opened her eyes.  “Amelia?” she whispered, her voice very weak.

Nicholas turned from the fire and started forward.

Amelia held up her hand, staying him.  She glanced back down to Megan.  “I’ve come to help.  Do you understand?”

Feebly, Megan nodded.  Then her eyes grew fearful.  “The baby?  Is the baby going to die?”

When Nicholas took a step, Amelia lifted her hand again, but kept her eyes on Megan.  “You’re not going to lose the baby.  Not if I can help it,” she said.  “But you must not give up.  Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Megan groaned, her face etched in pain.

Amelia glanced at the doctor.  “My bag now, if you please.” She nodded to where she had placed it before washing her hands.

With a sigh, he complied

Murmuring her thanks, she removed several items, then opened a vial and began rubbing the oil onto her hands.

The doctor’s breath caught.  “Mrs. Wesson, what are you doing?”

Ignoring Dr. Kellerman, Amelia called to Nicholas.  He turned from the fire and hurried to her side.  “Do you wish to stay?” she asked.

Both ignored the doctor’s affronted humph.

“Yes.”

“Then go sit beside Megan.  Hold her hand, talk to her.  Keep her mind from the pain.”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering to her small hands.  “What are you going to do?”

She looked steadily into Nicholas’s troubled gaze.  “I’m going to turn the baby.”

His face drained of all color.  “Have you done this before?” He looked ready to swoon.

“Yes, I have.”

Satisfied, Nicholas gave a nod and turned to his wife.

Half an hour later, Amelia breathed a sigh of relief when the baby slid into her hands.  Thank the good Lord above it hadn’t been a full breech.  She smiled as the wizened little face scrunched up, releasing an indignant wail.

The door crashed open.

After wrapping the babe in a soft cloth, Amelia turned.  Julian and his father entered the room, scowling at her, followed by Margaret and Nicholas’s mother.

The doctor rushed toward the group, his face as red as a cherry.  “Please, you cannot enter yet.”

“Is my little girl all right?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Dr. Kellerman sighed.  “Thanks to Mrs. Wesson.”

Julian stepped forward.  “Lady Amersleigh,” he said, scowling at the poor man.

Amelia’s heart flipped over.  Hearing Julian admit she was his wife out loud did funny things to her insides.  Her entire body tingled and grew warm.  She wanted to be his wife.  Yet, she wanted so much more than that.  She also wanted Julian’s love.

Realizing she still stared at her husband, Amelia glanced over at the Duke of Kenbrook, who stood there watching her.  Her breath hitched when she noted the twinkle of gratitude flicker in his eyes before he ushered everyone out of the room.

Releasing the breath trapped in her lungs, she smiled and turned to Nicholas.  “Your son, Your Grace.”

CHAPTER 16

Julian walked into Nick’s study, surprised to find Jeremy seated at one of the chairs before the desk, puffing on a thin brown cigar.

“Julian,” Nick said, rising from his chair.  “Come join us.  I was just telling Jeremy about my son.”

“Yes, although you haven’t given me his name,” Jeremy stated as he came to his feet.

Nick’s smile grew.  “Jordan Alistair Christopher William.”

“A notable name,” Jeremy said as everyone took his seat, surprising Julian.  The man openly abhorred the thought of marriage and having a family, often scoffing at the very idea.

Jeremy turned.  “Heard you got leg-shackled, old man.”

He cleared his throat.  “Yes, well, it had to happen sooner or later.”

“Later sounds much more appealing than sooner, does it not?”

“Ah, Jeremy, you just haven’t found the right lady yet,” Nick said.

“And therein lies the problem.” Jeremy expelled a puff of blue-gray smoke up into the air.  “The right lady for me doesn’t exist.”

Nicholas shook his head.  “One of these days, you’re going to meet someone who will liquefy your insides every time she glances in your direction.  Your thoughts will be haunted by her, damn near driving you to distraction.  When you do finally make her yours, you’ll think the craze has passed.  Instead it gets worse.  And no one else will do.  It has to be
her
.”

Julian clutched the arms of his chair, listening to Nick describe the exact things he’d been feeling.  Since he found Amelia aboard his ship, he wanted her.  Before then, even.  When they first met years ago, he’d wanted her.  He’d planned carefully for Amelia’s seduction, more carefully than any other.  And the more she resisted, the more determined he’d been to have her.

Just like now.

When Amelia told him they wouldn’t have a physical relationship, Julian knew he’d do everything within his power to see that they did.  Then it happened, and he experienced heaven on earth.  But the bloody rub of it was he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.  He wanted more.

“I’m certain no one will ever cause me to behave in such a ridiculous fashion,” Jeremy stated with confidence, gaining Julian’s attention.

“Ah, Jeremy.” Nick released a rumble of laughter from deep in his throat. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”

Looking unconvinced, Jeremy extinguished his cigar.  Then he turned and asked, “How ever did you manage to meet Amelia Jamison again?  I heard she was a widow, by the by.”

“As you’ve undoubtedly heard already, we ran into each other in America.” He told the fabricated story with ease, although he couldn’t quite keep the irritation from his voice.  For some reason, he didn’t like people gossiping about his wife.  It made him angry as hell.  However, for her reputation’s sake, the lie had been necessary.  Everyone now believed she had gone to America to be with her father those years ago, then married a man named Wesson soon after.

More curiosity filled Jeremy’s hazel eyes.  “I’m told her son looks remarkably like you.”

Julian gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles going white.  “What are you saying?”

“Just repeating what I’ve heard, old man, nothing more.”

Instead of commenting on that, Julian stood and walked to the liquor cabinet.  Splashing two fingers of whiskey in his glass, he gulped it down, then turned.  “Alexander is my son,” he said, “although that knowledge cannot leave this room since it would damage Amelia’s reputation.”  He knew both men would adhere to his wishes.  Even Jeremy.  For all his faults, the man could keep a secret.  “And, as you’re soon to learn anyway, I’ve adopted Alexander and have put him in my will.”

“You didn’t have to marry Amelia in order to take care of Alex—”

“Yes, I did.”

A storm gathered in Jeremy’s eyes.  “You mean she demanded marriage?”

He turned back to the whiskey decanter.  “No.  Marriage was my idea.” He poured more of the pungent amber liquid into his tumbler.

“Be damned, Julian, your idea?  Are you mad?” Jeremy asked.

With a sigh, he swiveled around to face his friends.  Although Nicholas looked pleased, Jeremy did not.  And if Jeremy didn’t support his decision, if he snubbed Amelia, it would not bode well for her amongst the
ton
.  He opened his mouth to inform his friend that he didn’t at all mind having Amelia as his wife, but stopped.  That would not do.  Jeremy wouldn’t understand.  “I’m not mad, Jeremy, but practical,” he stated as an idea sprang into his mind.

“Practical?”

“Yes.”  Julian shrugged.  “Not only did I manage to secure my son’s future, but I escaped the torture of courting all those simpering debutantes.” He ignored Nicholas’ scowl, deciding to explain the subterfuge as soon as they were alone.

Jeremy leaned back in his chair, his expression clearing.  “That’s quite ingenious, old man.”

Even though a large smile spread across his lips, Julian felt anything but pleased.  In fact, he felt as though he’d committed an act of betrayal.  Those words had not been at all true.  But they had been necessary.  To keep Jeremy—a most popular pink—from shunning Amelia.  He didn’t want her suffering from wagging tongues and acrid stares from anyone.

“You know, I almost felt guilty,” Jeremy stated, crossing his arms.

Julian lifted a brow.  “Guilty?”

“Yes.  You recall our wager ten years ago that you couldn’t seduce Amelia?  I thought you were feeling obligated to wed her because of that.  Especially after learning she had a child as a result of that night.”

Clutching the book she’d retrieved for Megan tightly against her chest, Amelia slowly backed away from the doorway.  The library was adjacent to Nicholas’ study, the joining door slightly open, and the men’s voices had drifted to her as she entered the room.  She hadn’t meant to listen, but hearing her name had caught her attention.

And now, knowing Alex had been conceived because of some cursed wager and the truth behind Julian’s marriage proposal made her sick to her stomach.

What a fool she’d been, believing her husband had started to care for her.  He never had, and he never would.  No doubt, he had just been using her to quench his desires between women.  She was just a…a bookmark.

Spinning on her heel, Amelia fled the library.  In her haste, she almost collided with a passing maid.

“Oh, do forgive me, my lady,” the young woman stated contritely, her freckled cheeks going pink.

Amelia shook her head.  “The fault is mine.  I wasn’t watching where I was going.”  Then, realizing she still held the book to her breast, she gave it to the maid.  “Please, take this to the duchess and tell her I had to leave.  I-I’m not feeling well.”

The maid curtseyed.  “Yes, my lady.”

Knowing that Alex would be occupied for a while out in the stables visiting a new foal, Amelia turned to the front door.  A brisk walk would help, she decided, and exited the mansion.

Without a destination in mind, she turned to her right and began walking.  The sun blazed bright and clear overhead.  She should be warm, but the coldness within her wouldn’t allow it.  She increased her pace, her arms pumping back and forth, her hands balled.  She’d forgotten her gloves, she noticed, then shrugged.  At the moment, she could care less.

How dare that man make such exquisite love to her when he truly felt nothing for her!  It had led her to believe…to hope…  Amelia shook her head, not wishing to finish the thought.

“Amy?”

Knowing that voice, Amelia stopped and spun around.  Seeing Jack standing there bold as you please, grinning like a simpleton, she wanted to smack him.  “What are you doing here?”  She glanced around to see if anyone watched them.

Jack took her arm and led her toward the park.  “I needed to know how you’re faring.”  He halted before a marble bench and they sat.

When Amelia realized no one had screamed for the watch, she relaxed.  Sliding her gaze sideways, she noted Jack’s fashionable attire.  Bright gold silk pantaloons that fit like second skin, a gold and green plaid waistcoat, and a gauche green hat with a fluffy gold feather sticking out the back, curling around his right ear.  No one would recognize Jackson Townsend in those ridiculous clothes and powdered face, she decided, and wanted to laugh.  “You look rather dandy.”  Keeping a straight face proved hard to manage.

His painted lips twitched.  “I thought so, too.” 

“Is that mole painted on?” she asked, reaching up to his chin.

He batted her hand away.  “Yes and don’t smudge it.  It took me too long to get it just right.”  Then he turned serious, the humor in his eyes diminishing.  “How are you, Amy?  Really?”

Hoping she looked sincere, Amelia forced her lips to remain curved up.  “Very well,” she lied, grateful the words hadn’t stuck in her throat.  She turned away from his probing gaze.  “It’s a shame most everyone leaves for Brighton or Bath for the summer.  The park is so lovely this time of year.”

When Jack didn’t comment, Amelia turned and found him staring off into the distance.  “Is something wrong?”

He blinked several times then glanced over at her, revealing sadness in his dark eyes.  “How is Megan?”

That stunned Amelia.  “You know Megan?”

Jack nodded then explained how Megan had been abducted last year and his assistance in her rescue.  “Is she well?” he asked again, his face tight with worry.

“Yes,” she said, feeling as though she wanted to cry.  The thought of this gentle, caring man being accused of murder was beyond incomprehensible.

“I heard she had her baby last week.”  His voice turned gruff.  “A son.”

“That’s right.”  Amelia studied Jack’s profile, recognizing that he had fallen in love with Megan.  How unfair.  If the murder hadn’t happened or the true murderer had been caught, Jack would probably be married by now with children of his own.  Instead, he had to remain alone for who knows how long.  “Oh, Jack,” she whispered, feeling those dreaded tears threatening.

“What’s this?” He tipped her chin up with his hand.  “Why are you crying, Amy?”

The warm drops gliding one after another down her face startled her.  She shook her head, trying to cease the foolish display, but couldn’t.

“Oh, the devil,” Jack said under his breath and gathered her in his arms, allowing her to sob against his chest.

“Unless you wish to lose those arms, sir, I suggest you remove them from my wife.”

Amelia started at the sound of Julian’s low, venomous voice and pulled away from Jack.  She glanced up just in time to see Julian’s feral expression alter into surprise.  “You!”

“Julian,” Jack said calmly, rising to his feet.

As Amelia rose, her husband stabbed her with a hot, piercing glare.  “Just what in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing with this pirate?”

She had to get Jack away before Julian drew any more attention to them.  Thankfully, her husband had become too enraged at the moment to think to call out for the authorities.  With a deep breath, she forced herself to calm.  “Jack and I were friends as children,” she said steadily.  “Our fathers’ estates were separated by only two miles.”

At the mention of their fathers, Amelia realized her blunder.  She watched Julian’s eyes narrow.  Oh, no, he’s going to have Jack captured!  Quickly, she stepped close to her husband and placed her hand on his arm.  “Julian, don’t.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, then he shifted his attention to Jack.  “I’ll give you five minutes before summoning a constable.”

She gasped.  “Julian, that’s—”

“That’s all the time I need, Amy,” Jack said.  She turned as he reached out and lifted her hand to his painted lips.  “Farewell, dear friend.”  He faced Julian, his expression hardening.  “Hurt her and I’ll see that you pay dearly for it.”  Then he swiveled on his heel and marched away, the fluffy gold feather fluttering merrily in the wind.

As Jack disappeared around a corner, Amelia turned to her husband.  “Summon the constable and I’ll never forgive you for it.”  She started to move away but Julian’s hand shot out and gripped her arm.

“That man murdered his father.”

“Jackson Townsend is no more a murderer than you are,” she said, trying to pull her arm free.

Julian’s hold tightened.  “He was caught in the act.”

She shook her head.  “No.  He had just found his father.”  Tears pooled in her eyes.  “My God, Julian, what was he to do?  Just turn and walk away?”  The salty drops slid down her face and dripped from her chin.  “He pulled the dagger out, trying to save his father’s life.”

Julian released a long sigh.  He let go of her arm.  “Jack had just returned from the war, Amelia.” He pressed a pristine square of linen into her hands.

After wiping the tears from her cheeks, she glanced up.  “What has that got to do with anything?”

“War can change a man.”

She shook her head.  “You’re wrong, Julian.”

And no sooner were the words out of her mouth, the shot exploded in her ears.