The Matchmaker's Match (28 page)

Amelia shot the filthiest glare she could muster at Eversham while she dragged her hankie from her reticule. “I shall be gentle,” she murmured. She pressed the cloth to the gash, hoping to stem the flow.

This also gave her time to cool her temper. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to tackle her twin and grind his face in the dirt, just as she’d done when they were children. Gritting her teeth, she dabbed Ashwhite’s wound.

She would not think of anything else right now. Not the closeness of their hearts or the words he’d uttered in the carriage. Just the remembrance made her heart hurt.

Behind her, Ev gasped for air. He’d evidently fatigued himself attempting to fight. Too much time behind a desk, no doubt. She pressed her lips together. Well, it must be done. She must confront him in the heat of the day. Thankfully no one else traveled the road today.

The Scottish lowlands rose in splendor around her but offered little in the way of shade. The scent of flowers and blood intermingled to provide an odd dissonance. Her gaze roved her surroundings, taking in the varied colors. Sap green for the land, and a mix of Prussian blue with ultramarine for the sky. She wanted to memorize this for a future painting.

Ashwhite stirred. She became aware of her knee resting near his thigh. He watched her in his way that seemed to suggest he understood things about herself that she wanted to remain secret.

She squared her shoulders. Fiddle-faddle. All of it. She must get herself together and gain control of the situation. She brought the handkerchief down and pressed it into Ashwhite’s hand.

“Wipe your nose.” Brushing off her skirt, she stood to face her wayward and extremely irritating brother. He had not regained himself, evidenced by the high color in his face and the huffing noises he still made.

She raised her brow at him. “Do you plan to assault Ashwhite further, or are we finished with the theatrics?”

He started to speak, but she lifted her hand.

“I’ll not hear it, John. This is beyond the pale. Why, grabbing an unconscious man and beating him... I would not believe you capable of such a thing had I not seen it with my own eyes. Do you care to explain yourself? Here, in this hot and unrelenting Scottish sun? As you chose to stop our carriage in a most aggressive manner, thereby causing poor Ash—”

“I’m not poor,” he grumbled behind her, though she noted he had not moved from his position.

“As I was saying—” she lifted her nose a bit higher for emphasis “—you’ve caused Ash to suffer a concussion. Not only is my dress ruined by perspiration and dirt, but also I am in pain and quite miffed with you.” She put her hands on her hips. “I want an answer, and it had most certainly better be suitable, for I’ve had enough of your bullying tactics.”

She felt it, too, a hard knot of determination in her belly, steel in her spine. Why, a lady could take only so much ear pulling until she fought back, and this was definitely the time to give a piece of her mind. What did it matter anyhow? She’d lost everything.

The thought brought a lump to her throat.

Eversham sputtered, clearly at a loss for words. As well he should be. Her anger at him had not abated. It had merely coalesced into a seething resentment that curled up inside, waiting to be unleashed.

Perhaps she should not be this angry. Perhaps it was not pleasing to God. She didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure how to make the anger leave, anyhow.

Ashwhite stood slowly, his pained movements increasing her ire. He glanced at Ev before moving to Amelia’s side.

“Have you finished speaking, my dear?” The quiet intimacy of his words startled her.

“I did not give you leave to call me that,” she said beneath her breath.

Eversham scowled, arms crossing and feet planting apart. She knew that look. He wanted to hit Ashwhite.

“You’ve got him all upset, and now he wants to clock me again,” said Ashwhite. She heard a laugh in his voice but did not dare look at him for fear her heart would melt into a helpless puddle at his expensively shod feet.

“He arrived this way.” She shifted away. How had he recovered so quickly? “I have everything under control.”

“You always like to think that.”

Her nose wrinkled at Ashwhite’s ridiculous words.

“Would you two quit bickering? Amelia, get over here. We are going home.” Her brother’s tone made her want to pummel him.

“Not until I know what’s going on.”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Eversham pointed a finger at Ashwhite. “My so-called friend is a rake who has demeaned my sister in the lowest fashion.”

“Nonsense. Whatever are you talking about?”

“I came to his estate to get you. When I heard you were in an accident... That is beyond the point. I found out that you two were in his carriage, heading to Gretna Green. Really, Ash? You couldn’t even propose properly? You knew I’d say no, too, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. Eversham’s arms folded. “And so here I am, but too late to stop you, I suppose.”

His look moved to her, and an unexpected fear took root in her stomach at his expression. He almost appeared...sad. Why?

“I warned you,” said Ev. “I warned you to leave her alone, but you ignored me. You’ve sullied her reputation, and so help me, if you break her heart—”

“You are ahead of yourself, brother.” She laughed a hollow laugh. “Ashwhite and I are not married.”

Eversham’s face slacked.

“That’s right.” Her lips trembled, and all the fortitude she’d felt earlier fled beneath an excruciating wave of failure. It engulfed her as the enormity of her actions and how they’d affected her family slammed into her. Suddenly weary, body aching, she nodded. “Your sister has done it again.”

“What Amelia means to say—” Ashwhite’s arm slipped around her waist, a bulwark she didn’t pull away from “—is that we left in a hurry to see your cousin Lydia marry.”

Eversham gaped. “Lydia? But your note said you two were headed to Gretna Green.” Though he saw Ashwhite’s arm about Amelia, which was highly inappropriate, he said nothing.

“I apologize,” Ashwhite said. “We received the news of the marriage and hastily left with little thought to the consequences. It seems your cousin has fallen in love with a military man who leaves this week for parts unknown. She longs to go with him and so, with her family’s blessing, they decided to marry quickly.”

“Is this true?” Ev posed the question to her.

She nodded, knowing she should step away from Ashwhite’s support but unwilling to. Who knew when she’d ever feel this comfort again? And why had he come to her defense so brilliantly? All for love?

If only her brain would shut down. What she needed now was to paint, to escape, not to overthink.

“Your sister is exhausted. Shall we continue our journey?”

A grim expression crossed Ev’s face. “You may leave, but Amelia will be going with me.”

“Still doubt my honor?” Ashwhite’s chuckle was dry.

“I know you are honorable, but you are not a man content with one woman for the rest of your life, and that is the kind of man my sister deserves.”

Amelia blinked. Was there something she didn’t know? Though lassitude still draped her spirits, a tiny tendril of fear unfurled within her.

“I told you I’d changed.”

A hint of a smile tugged at Eversham’s cheeks. “God changed you. It is what you claim, and perhaps it’s true, but I’d rather not let my sister be your experiment.”

“I am no man’s experiment,” she said before she could stop herself. “And God can change a person. Furthermore, I shall decide what I deserve, not you.”

“Is our friendship done, then?” Ashwhite asked her brother quietly. A muscle flickered in his jaw. “I did not know you thought so low of me.”

Amelia winced at the pain in his voice, yet that small fear was blossoming within her, her brother’s words a fertilizer that brought forth fruit. She moved forward, realizing that Ashwhite’s arm had hugged her for the longest time, and that she’d been comfortable in his embrace. Safe, even.

But not now, because her brother’s accusations rang in her ears. “Why don’t you want me to marry Ashwhite?” she asked him. She dared not look at Ash behind her as she inched forward, closer to the man who had both protected her and betrayed her.

Ev’s jaw firmed in a signature look.

She pointed her finger at him. “You talk of what I deserve? A forthright answer on why a good man would get such words from you—I deserve that, Ev, and you know so.”

His eyes flickered past her. She turned. Ashwhite dragged his fingers through his hair, rumpling it. The look of despair on his face brought her fears to full bloom.

“What did you do?” she whispered. Her mind raced, envisioning his winning smile, his charming personality. She’d never met him before this year. Never seen him at Almack’s or soirees. Not even balls. Yet he’d been an eligible son of a marquis...

He raised his eyes to meet hers, and in their depths she saw a truth she hadn’t expected.

“You might have called me a rake once upon a time, my lady.”

Her jaw dropped. She snapped it closed as a thousand tiny explosions sparked within. “I don’t believe it.”

His smile was self-deprecating. He shrugged and his lips curled. “Perhaps once a rake, always a rake, eh, Ev? Probably good he stopped me now before I ruined your life. After all, infatuation fades and then insufferable boredom sets in. You wouldn’t have been happy with me, Lady Amelia.”

She could not speak past the pain billowing up inside her. This made no sense. At no time had she sensed anything disingenuous in the man before her. Nothing to give her pause... Her mind stuttered. The first time she’d met him, that woman... The pieces clicked, and she remembered why his
lady friend
had appeared familiar.

She was an actress.

He kept company with actresses! It appalled her, though not for their profession, but for the reasons he would get slapped by one. What had he done? Who had he been?

Who was he now? The way he stood, languid and defiant, more handsome than anyone she’d ever seen, spoke of a past she knew nothing of. A past she could not begin to fathom.

Her heart split within her chest. She used resolve to pull herself together, to regard him calmly when she wanted to scream with frustration and confusion.

“Thank you for the use of your carriage, Lord Ashwhite.” She patted at an invisible spot of dirt on her skirt, gathering her composure. There was but one way to exit this situation.

With breeding and excellent manners.

“Take care and good day.”

* * *

The ride to Ashwhite was torturously slow. Finally Spencer arrived. He entered the house. Though the floor glowed with polish and fresh flowers had been set out, he had never felt more lonely or disgusted with himself. Had Ev spent the entire ride home regaling Amelia with tales of Spencer’s past decadence, inebriation and gambling? That had been his life for too many years. And there were worse things he was sure Ev would not sully a lady’s ears with. How he bitterly regretted those years! Trying to prove himself capable of making his own choices. Foolish with his money, time and affections.

He trudged to his room, not bothering to see Cook or nip a few cookies.

His stomach would not tolerate anything tonight. Not food, leastwise. The temptation to head to the nearest pub prickled through him, growing in intensity.

He’d almost made it to his room when his mother called his name. Reluctantly he turned around. She came up the stairs, concern etched across her brow. “Where is Lady Amelia?”

“She went home.”

“Oh.” His mother’s hand went to her throat. “I had thought, or hoped...”

“That we’d run off to marry?”

The look on her face confirmed his suspicion. He’d never felt worse. Sourness coated his stomach. “Nay, the lady refused my offer of marriage.” He dug deep for the carefree, mocking smile he’d worn during his youth. It came back naturally, and he flashed it at his mother. “It seems that the combination of my rakish ways and her lack of affection toward me will conspire to cause us to lose Ashwhite. That and the ridiculous stipulation you and your husband put together.” To call such a man
Father
went against all that felt right at this moment.

No, nothing felt right.

Maybe never again.

He bowed to the waist, feeling the mockery twisting through him in poisonous vines, choking any semblance of morality he might have discovered this past year. Despite the Spirit’s nudging, despite his intention to go to bed, some other part of him prodded him back down the stairs, past the shocked expression on his mother’s face. One thing might comfort him tonight, and it would be exactly what everyone expected from him.

Exactly what he really was.

Chapter Twenty-Three

A
melia finished her final letter to the patrons of the Prison Reform Society and put it on her stack of teetering mail. Between writing invitations, preparing for the upcoming soiree and dodging her brother and sister-in-law, she was exhausted.

She tried to avoid that ever-present memory as well, though it came to her in her dreams.

Lord Ashwhite and the way he’d said he was in love with her... Would a rake sound so sincere? She tried to remember Lord Markham, but his memory had faded so that she could not even recall the sound of his voice, let alone the color of his eyes. She seemed to think he’d sounded honest, but what had she known? They’d danced a trifle of dances. Their carriage rides had been chaperoned, and all had been proper.

Lord Ashwhite had never pretended to be anything other than himself.

Shoving her chair back, she shook her head. No, she refused to think of him. The entire trip home had been silence between her and Ev. She’d felt his regard, his questions, but they knew each other well enough to know that no civil words could be passed. As soon as they arrived home, he’d been called to London for his duties in the House of Lords, leaving her with Harriet this past week.

Thankfully her sister-in-law still hid in her bedchamber.

Amelia winced at the unkind thought. She stood, swiped the letters from the desk and proceeded to leave the study. Today marked one more day of political shenanigans, albeit from the countryside. After delivering the letters to a servant to be mailed later, she went up the stairs.