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Authors: Morgan King

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It
was James that had just given her
her
first taste of
passion, though. She couldn't imagine him not being in her life. She had
pleaded with him not to go into the army, and she'd known part of her was
missing with him. Life had been so serious without him around. It would have
been anyway, with Francine's failing health and death placing a toll on
everyone, but when she thought of James she felt happy.

How
could she know what she wanted when she wanted conflicting things?

“I
want to marry you, and I want James never to leave.”

James
clearly couldn't stay if there was an attraction between them.

Amelia
felt herself flushing. “I want us to grow to love each other as husband and
wife.”

“So
you
aren't just marrying
me
because of a contract?” Arthur asked.

Amelia
shook her head.

“As
for growing to love each other I can't imagine that I could possibly love you
more, but if anything could make it happen I am sure it is marriage.” There was
an unmistakable heat in Arthur's eyes. Was it new, or had she never noticed his
fire for her?

“I
don't need the marriage to make it happen either,” Amelia said. It was a confession
straight from her heart.

Arthur
cleared his throat. “You love me?”

Yes.
Whatever her feelings for James, Amelia knew she loved Arthur.

With
her nod, she found herself suddenly experiencing her second kiss. Arthur's lips
molded decisively and firmly
to her own
. Earlier she
had felt the flick of James's tongue just before he ended their kiss, and now
she could feel Arthur's tongue probing against her lips. The instant she tried
to draw breath his tongue moved forward into her mouth.

Was
this how people kissed? Surely not! Arthur's tongue was in her mouth, and he
was groaning, the sound rumbling from deep in his throat. Amelia had to admit
hearing Arthur groan was exciting. Normally so reserved, he now seemed lost in
passion, lost in her.

Always
the sort to push back if pushed, Amelia touched her tongue to his. The dueling
battle that commenced had her moans countering his before long.

Breathing
harshly, Arthur finally drew away. “Don't ever doubt that I want you. I want
all of you, not just your duty to me, or your body, but you heart as well. I
also don't want to lose James. Do you trust me?”

“Of
course,” she said with a tentative smile.

“Let
us be married tomorrow. I will do everything I can to convince James to stay,” Arthur
vowed in-between peppering her face with heartfelt kisses.

“How
can James possibly stay, if he feels as you say? He kissed me, in front of you.
We are to be married, and I don't want that jeopardized.”

“Nothing
is going to jeopardize our marriage. I will make this situation work. I want
James to stay, despite the difficulties, and so do you. James will do what's
best for the three of us. He has already assured me of that, for the best thing
is the three of us together.”

Amelia
knew it couldn't be as simple as Arthur wishing it so, although his
determination often made things happen
. There was little she
could do about it now. They would have to see what transpired once she and
Arthur were married.

“I'd
better take my leave. I only wanted to see you before tomorrow. I never
imagined James would be home.” Amelia felt slightly overwhelmed by it all.
 

“I
arranged it with his commanding officer. I guessed there might be problems, but
I wanted them out in the open before we were married. Besides, I couldn't
imagine getting married without James to stand witness. Now go, before I'm
tempted to steal another kiss—I don't think that wise before tomorrow night!”

Despite
her concerns Amelia left with a smile on her face.

 

Chapter Three

 

James
did better than order Amelia a
carriage,
he stood by
while Griggs harnessed the horses and followed as they were led from the stable
to the front of the house. In fact he lifted himself into the vehicle and made
himself
comfortable on the seat facing the driver so that
Amelia wouldn't see him the instant she entered the carriage.

He'd
already asked Griggs to see that Mary, Amelia's maid, was seated in the
driver's box, slipping him a guinea to ensure his compliance. Amelia being
attended in the carriage wasn't an option.

Griggs
may well be loyal to Arthur above James. All the servants treated both brothers
with respect, but they knew who their master was. Yet even if Griggs were to
report to Arthur it would be after the carriage ride had taken place so James
wasn't concerned.
 

The
interior of the carriage was dim, despite the light of day outside. James could
barely see the worn fabric of the seats. It was his fingertips alighting on tell-tale
rough patches that made him notice the age of the carriage, a timely reminder
of Arthur's financial difficulties and the reason for his marriage to Amelia.

What
might Arthur be saying to Amelia now? How would he justify James's kiss?
Whatever he said, or suggested, at least Amelia now knew that James wanted her
as well. Wanted and intended to have her. Nothing Arthur had said had changed
James's intentions. James felt a twinge of guilt as he thought of how honest
and open Arthur had been. In comparison he hadn't had the nerve to tell Arthur
he still planned to ask Amelia to marry him. It would hardly be a successful
elopement if the fiancé to be jilted knew in advance. This way Arthur could
rightly deny all knowledge, and Whitmore could hardly blame him.

Checking
his pocket watch James leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the front of the
house. It was a good twenty minutes since he'd left Amelia and Arthur alone in
the study, and still there was no sign of her.

It
was another five at least before he felt Griggs jump down and open the carriage
door for Amelia, supporting her gloved hand as she climbed inside. The sudden
switch from the brightness outside to the dim interior of the carriage affected
Amelia's eyesight. Her eyes widened, and she took a quickly indrawn breath the
moment she saw him.

James's
anxious gaze traveled from the furrows on her normally smooth brow, down her
small straight nose to the softly formed O of her mouth. She seemed surprised
to see him, but not angry or in shock.

“James.”
The slight tremor in her voice suggested she knew the situation was potentially
dangerous, not just to her reputation, but the future order of her life.

“Amelia,”
he said, enjoying the feel of his tongue shaping her name. Over the past four
years he'd had far more cause to think her name than say it.

“What
are you doing here?” Trust Amelia to get straight to the point.

“I
hoped we might talk, as we haven't seen each other in so long.”

Amelia
gave a hesitant smile. “We do have a lot to talk about. You hardly ever write
to tell us what you're doing.”

Uncertainty
rippled through James, followed closely by a sense of panic. Did Amelia already
see Arthur and herself as an “us”?

Pride
on the line he pressed on. “I was hoping we might talk about your marriage to
Arthur.”

Amelia
bit her lip and looked out the window. “You're unhappy about it. Arthur told me
of your feelings.” Her voice cracked with regret. “I didn't know.”

“I
hate to think of you being pressured by your father into accepting Arthur. He's
a good man, but you should have a free choice.”

Amelia
sighed. “I've always known I'd never have a completely free choice in
whom
I married. Even if Francine had married Arthur Father
would still have wanted to choose my husband for me. I've made the most of my
situation and the freedom I've been given until now, and even though Arthur is
my father's choice, he is my choice, too.”

Shaking
his head, James touched a gentle finger to Amelia's chin silently asking her to
turn towards him. “He's not your only choice. You have a real choice if you
want. Amelia, I love you. You can choose to marry me instead of Arthur.”

Amelia
frowned. Her light eyes normally filled with warmth now flashed with
condemnation as she sent him a grave stare. Sparks of alarm pricked his skin.

“Wait,
let me explain.” James pleaded with her. “I have a small property near Leeds,
left to me by my maternal grandfather. We could be married before anyone could
stop us. We could live far away where it would not matter what anyone else
thought.”

She
took his hands in hers. “James, you sound as if you're serious. You can't be
serious. Think of the position you'd leave Arthur in. He'd have to find a way
to pay Father back, all the while listening to people talk about how his
brother stole his fiancée from him.
And what about me?
You say you love me but you'd be abandoning me when you returned to the army.
I'd be all alone in a strange place with no friends or family.”

James
eased his hands from within her grasp to instead cup her hands then he leaned
close touching his forehead to hers. “None of it should matter if we love each
other.”

Pulling
back from his touch her eyes scanned his face with compassion. “No, it wouldn't
matter, but I don't believe love is just the feeling of a moment. It grows over
time with careful nurturing. I've grown to love Arthur.”

Despair
began to overtake James's heart. Actual tears pricked the back of his eyes. “What
of passion? My passion for you tells me I would never want another for my
wife.”

She
stared at him, her eyes projecting sincerity. “James, I don't want to hurt you,
but I do feel passion for Arthur. I...”

“And
what about me?” he interrupted. “Don't you feel passion for me? It felt like
you did when I kissed you earlier.”

Amelia
blinked, her eyelids lifting to reveal all trace of compassion gone, a shadow
of fear lingering in the copper depths. “Your kiss was
very
practiced, and I can't deny I responded to it. If things had been different who
knows?”

Her
words infuriated and dismayed James. Her response now wasn't enough not nearly
enough. “It was all instinct,” he whispered. “You drive me to follow my
instincts, against all loyalty to my brother. At least I have my answer. There is
no need to attempt going down on bended knee in a moving carriage.” If he could
mock himself he might get through this. He might manage to show no more outward
sign of the pain slicing though him before they reached their destination. He
could wait and go lick his wounds in private.

He
forced himself to look Amelia in the eye, and he noticed tears had gathered
there.

“Can
we still be friends, James?” she asked, her husky voice wavering.

Ah,
the knife slicing him had a wicked edge.

“I
don't know. I honestly don't know what happens next.” James dug his nails into
the palms of his hands to keep from pleading with her to reconsider his offer.

They
sat in silence for the remainder of the journey, the sound of the clip-clopping
of the horses’ hooves audible until they came to a standstill outside Amelia's
home.

He
let her alight from the carriage without uttering another word. Amelia didn't
even turn to look back at him as she stepped down carefully, paused to lift her
skirts, and darted into the house. It hurt that he didn't merit that second
look, that last-minute show of emotion.

He
watched the door where he'd seen the last flash of her skirts until it was a
blur as the carriage carried him farther and farther away.

A
sense of numbness pervaded his body. Scenery slipped past his window, his life
moving ever further from him. He wouldn't be able to return. All the places where
his childhood memories could be mapped out were here. The people he loved most
in the world would be here, and he wouldn't.

He
was glad there was numbness to take away the pain.

He'd
have to return to Portsmouth that very eve. Stay for the wedding? Not bloody
likely. He'd borrow a fresh horse. It was the least Arthur owed him. Although
thinking about it he'd have to stay sober to make the long ride back. Only then
could the drinking and the whoring begin. Technically he didn't have to report
back to his commanding officer for another three days.

That
definitely seemed like the easy option ... easier than apologizing to Arthur.

James
knew sometimes he was his own worst enemy, rushing into
things,
sure his way was the right way. He'd been so determined to get back to Amelia,
to try to convince her to elope. He hadn't really listened to Arthur, who'd
been considerate really.

James
wouldn't have offered to share Amelia is she'd been his; Arthur had offered!

It
was James’s last shot at Amelia, if he were willing to share
her,
that
was.

If they could convince Amelia.

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