His Jilted Bride (Historical Regency Romance) (4 page)

“
Amelia,” he said, uncertain if his word was a question or a
statement as his eyes fell over her quiet form.

She half sat, half lay on a floral
settee that blended into the equally flowery wallpaper, wearing one
of the fluffiest dresses he'd ever seen. Her shawl lay in a little
pile of white silk next to her, which was exactly where it should
be, not draped around her, covering up her delicate shoulders or
the tops of her luscious breasts. He swallowed. She'd always been a
beautiful young lady, but just now she was absolutely breathtaking
as she sat there and idly twirled a fallen lock of her silky, dark
brown hair.

He found an empty chair from across
the room and pulled it over to her so he could sit beside her. At
least when they were both sitting, the height difference between
her petite five foot frame and his towering five foot-eleven didn't
seem so noticeable; and that was much the way he preferred it:
equal.

“
I should have known he'd do something like this,” she
whispered.

“
I'm sorry,” Elijah whispered just as softly as she'd
spoken.

“
Don't be. It's not your fault he jilted me at the
altar.”

No, but it is my good
fortune, because now I won't even have to halt a wedding and pray
your answer will be yes.
He shoved the
thought from his mind. If she truly wanted to marry Lord Friar,
he'd have stepped aside and blamed himself for taking too long to
tell her how he felt. But since he knew as well as she did that a
match between Amelia and Lord Friar would be the equivalent of a
death sentence, he'd come today to make one last appeal. Not to her
father, to
her
.
Fortunately, Lord Friar's absence had afforded him an opportunity
to offer her marriage without the same risk of scandal or
rejection.

He hated the bitter taste that word
put in his mouth, but it didn't change the truth of it. Amelia was
no longer the simpering miss she'd once been around him, talking of
love and marriage to him. Instead, she seemed guarded around him
and spoke as if those sorts of feelings no longer
existed.

“
Nobody has to know he jilted you,” he said, reaching forward
to push the hair sweeping across her forehead behind her
ear.

She shook her head; her grey eyes
shining with unshed tears. “They already do.”

“
No,” he corrected. “All they know for sure is a wedding is
not currently taking place. What they don't know is if it was the
groom who jilted the bride or the bride who jilted the
groom.”

Amelia eyed him curiously. “No, I'm
fairly certain they all know it was the groom who jilted the bride.
My mother and father are both out there.”

“
Yes, and they are doing a wonderful job acting as if they're
waiting for their daughter's wedding to take place.”

“
Acting?” she said, her eyes narrowing in on him.

“
Acting,” he confirmed. “See, your mother is sitting in her
pew, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief while your father is
pacing a hole in the wooden platform just outside the front door of
the church. Both are playing their roles perfectly, giving off the
illusion to the rest of the guests that they are just waiting for
the wedding to begin any moment.”

“
Which seems to be less likely to happen as the minutes
pass.”

“
Exactly,” Elijah agreed. “Which is why you need to act now
before someone discovers your game.”

“
My game?”

He nodded once. “Yes, madam, your
game.” He picked up her petite hand and wrapped his fingers around
it. “I'm not as dimwitted as the rest of them. I see what's really
going on here.”

“
At least you do, because I have no idea what you're talking
about.”

He ignored her. “I almost fell for it,
too.”

“
Fell for what?” she burst out in hysteria, presumably due to
her current situation, lacing her voice.

“
You're jilting your groom,” he said evenly, meeting her
eyes.

A shadow crossed her face and she
cleared her throat. Twice. “What are you suggesting?”

“
I'm not suggesting anything. I'm just merely making mention
of the fact that the wedding has yet to begin, and both the bride
and the groom have yet to be seen. How does a guest such as myself
truly know whether it was the bride or the groom who didn't come
today? How do I—a random guest—know that the bride and groom were
not so in love with the other they could hardly wait another day
and decided to elope?”

She snorted.

“
All right, well, perhaps
that
scenario isn't very believable, but the other
very well could be possible.” He took a deep breath. “Amelia,
listen to me, I know you're a very strong young lady and you come
from a very important family; but none of that will matter come
tomorrow when this is all over the scandal sheets.”

“
I know,” she said with a swallow.

“
Then see the sense in what I'm saying and marry
me.”

***

Amelia's jaw would have hit the end
table next to the settee had she had the mouth of an ostrich.
Elijah Banks was offering her marriage as a way to escape a
scandal?

“
Elijah, you don't have to do this.”

He laughed at her weak protest. “I
know I don't have to. I want to.”

“
Why? To make amends for dumping a bucket of cold water on me
after I told your father that you wouldn't let me ride your
mare?”

“
No, nor is it because I feel bad about volunteering you to
sing during the reception at Edwina's wedding.”

“
I knew it was you, you scoundrel!” She clapped a hand over
her mouth.

He grinned at her outburst. “What do
you say, Amelia? Will you be my wife?”

Had his question been asked because he
loved her, she'd have dissolved into a watering pot on the spot.
But it wasn't. Well, perhaps it was, but not love born of a
romantic feeling; but rather that of a friend. A pang of sadness
pierced her heart. Elijah was the only gentleman she'd ever wanted
to marry. Since she was a young girl running around his parents'
estate when spending summers with her aunt and uncle, she'd fancied
herself in love with Elijah. He was the reason she'd turned away
any gentlemen who wished to court her, hoping one day he'd see her
as more than a friend. How unfortunate he never saw fit to feel the
same for her.

She bit her lip. Hard. She
needed to put that thought out of her mind immediately. If she let
emotions get in the way and didn't take him up on his offer, she'd
forever face a life of shame. But what of her other problem? The
one that made
this
hasty marriage necessary. It had only been two weeks and she
still didn't know whether she carried a life inside of her yet. A
lump formed in her throat. “I can't.”

“
Can't what?”

Amelia blinked back her tears.
“Elijah, I cannot marry you and condemn you to—”

“
Nonsense,” he cut in. “Amelia, if I didn't want to be here
right now, I wouldn't be. You know that. No amount of goading and
threatening can make me do something I don't want to do. I want to
help you. You're my friend.”

She inwardly flinched at his
confirmation: she was just a friend. She knew that of course, he'd
told her for years he was only her friend and had even gone so far
as to help her find another gentleman to give her attentions to.
Gently, of course. He'd never been cruel about her feelings or
dismissive of her as a person, just the sincerity of a young girl's
feelings. But try as she might, she couldn't fall out of love as
easily as she'd fallen in. Only now, she didn't dare let him or
anyone know the truth. He wanted to be her friend and that'd have
to be good enough. “But what if I have a secret?” she
challenged.

He pulled a face that reminded her of
his late father. “It's not that you're genuinely in love with Lord
Friar, is it?”

“
Most certainly not! It has nothing to do with him.” At least
it had better not. She'd still yet to determine the identity of the
masked stranger, and for all she knew it
could
have been Lord Friar. Her
stomach lurched at the wretched thought. “It's something
else.”

Elijah's gloved fingers tilted her
face up toward his. “As long as it's not that, I don't care what it
is. Now, what do you say?”

A lead weight lowered on her chest. He
might say he didn't care about her secret, but how would he feel in
nine months when she presented him with a child that wasn't his? Or
even sooner when he went to take her innocence only to discover it
was already gone?

His deep sigh pulled her from her
thoughts. “You'd be doing me a favor, wouldn't you
know?”

How could
she
be doing
him
a favor? “How
so?”

“
Now that Weenie and Alex have both married, Mother has nobody
to play matchmaker for except me and Henry, and if I'm
married...that only leaves Henry.”

Amelia nearly laughed. “Your mother
doesn't play matchmaker, Elijah.” She played the role of confidant
and voice of sanity to perfection, but never once had Amelia caught
Regina Banks, the dowager baroness, playing matchmaker.

“
Just because she hasn't yet, doesn't mean she doesn't intend
to,” Elijah pointed out. “She and my Aunt Carolina have been
spending
a lot
of
time together recently. And there is nothing that can stop
that
woman
when she takes a notion into her mind. So what do
you say? Will you spare me the unpleasant fate that would befall me
otherwise?”

“
All right, but only if you promise me something.”

“
Anything.”

“
No matter what happens, you won't regret this?”

Elijah grinned and shook his head. “I
accept your condition. Now we just have to sneak you out of here.”
He walked over to a window and opened it just far enough to poke
his head out. “Perfect.” He pushed open the window as far as it
would go and motioned for her to come over. “All right, I'll climb
out first and then help pull you through.”

She cast him a tentative glance. “Is
that really necessary?”

He stared at her as if she'd just
asked the stupidest question ever. “Do you know another way to get
out of here without being seen?”

“
No.” But that still didn't mean she wanted to climb out a
window.

“
Don't worry, Amelia. I'll be right there to help
you.”

“
Wonderful,” she muttered as he threw his left leg over the
window sill, then his right.

He jumped down and took a step back.
“All right, Amelia, let's see those superb leaping skills you used
to boast about having.”

Had she a heavy object at her
disposal—and not been in the middle of escaping what was sure to be
the scandal of the season—she'd have brained him right then and
there. With as much grace as her heavy satin gown would allow, she
made her way to the window, pulled her skirt up as far as she
could, and then threw one stocking-clad leg over the
windowsill.

And that's as far as she
got.

Between the heavy skirts and the
voluminous petticoats underneath them, she couldn't
move.

“
Elijah, help me. I think my skirt is stuck.”

He grinned at her.

“
Elijah, why are you just standing there?”

“
Just admiring the view,” he said with a wink.

“
Elijah!”
She gave her dress a hearty
yank, but it would seem her iron hoop stays were too wide to go
through the window. “You can gawk all you want later. Just help me
out.”

“
Promises, promises,” he muttered, coming up to
her.

If she honestly thought he was
genuinely interested in seeing her naked body, she'd be flattered
by his staring and excited by his statement. But she knew better.
He was just enjoying the fact she was stuck in the
window!

He walked over toward her and reached
his hands up inside her skirt to find the ties that would release
her stays. The bare skin of her thighs burned at the feeling of his
gloved hands brushing them.

“
Just cut them,” she blurted.

“
Are you sure?”

She'd never been more sure of anything
in her life. “Yes. I have no idea why my mother insisted I wear
these hoops anyway, they're nearly twenty years past
fashion.”

“
All right, I'll cut them. Step back into the room and lift
your skirt.”