Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (9 page)

She flicked her hand. “Off with you. I don’t require an escort.”

Now
she didn’t need an escort. She could have told him that an hour ago.

***

Amelia danced the minuet with Jake. This was their second dance in a row, but with identities hidden, rules mattered less. Of course, in the light of day, she must be more cautious due to the foundling house renovation. She couldn’t allow anything to destroy the support she had thus far received from the reputable ladies of the
ton.

Her fondness for Jake would set tongues to wagging, and everyone would think she had become his mistress. After all, that was the only role fit for widows.

When the quartet stopped playing, Jake seemed reluctant to release her hands. Perhaps they could chance one more dance. The crowd seemed absorbed by their own machinations this evening.

“I suppose I shouldn’t monopolize your time,” he said, showing no signs of leaving her despite his words.

A caped figure appeared beside them. “No, you shouldn’t, little brother.”

Captain Hillary’s crooked grin set her teeth on edge.

“Freya promised me a waltz, and I would be foolish not to hold her to her word.”

Amelia forced a tense smile for the odious man. Very well. She would take the opportunity to set him straight and end this silly flirtation.

“Of course, Captain Hillary. I would be honored.”

Jake’s jaw tightened when she took his brother’s hand. Her gaze followed Jake as he moved to the sidelines of the ballroom floor. She and Captain Hillary took position, waiting for the music to begin.

“Your costume is divine, Lady Audley.”

Amelia’s eyes flicked over him. He hadn’t bothered with a costume, omitting even a mask. His only concession was the black cape, buff trousers, and open collared shirt. The dark bruise at his jawline lent a touch of realism to his rakish attire.

“Do you come as a pillager, Captain?”

“I take nothing by force, my dear.” He winked, his cheek riling her temper.

When the music carried on the air, he led her into a turn.

She pressed her lips together in a thin line. “About that, Captain. I hope you will not take offense, but I’m afraid I have nothing to offer you.”

His eyes hardened as his hand gripped hers tighter. “None taken, my lady. And may I express my wish not to offend you either. Nevertheless, I insist on knowing what game it is you play with my brother.”

Amelia gasped, missed a step, and came down hard on his toe.

Her misstep barely registered on his face. “I will assume that was an accident, although I am beginning to suspect you are not as docile as you appear.”

Now that she was recovering from shock, a hot flush inflamed her body. “How dare you,” she whispered furiously.

The captain clamped her upper arm and dragged her toward the outer doors in the middle of the dance. She threw a desperate look over her shoulder for Jake, but she couldn’t see him through the jumbled bodies.

Captain Hillary didn’t pause as he marched across the veranda, down the stairs, and into the darkened garden. A scream bubbled up in her throat, but he released her before she let loose a howl.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Amelia.”

She shrank back, trembling. Men didn’t drag women to darkened gardens to play a friendly game of whist. “Please, let me go.”

Captain Hillary exhaled loudly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I promise you are safe. I only wanted to speak to you where Jake cannot overhear.” He took a step forward but didn’t touch her.

Amelia darted her eyes, searching for an escape, but he stood too close. He would grab her again before she moved.

“Speak to me about what, exactly?” she asked. “I’m not playing any games with your brother. I apologize, Captain Hillary, but I prefer him over you.”

He scoffed. “I realize you care nothing for me, nor I for you. You passed my test.”

“Your test?”

She sidestepped, but he matched her movement. His smug grin made her want to slap him.

“This afternoon you declared your interests. You chose Jake, so I feel confident you hold him in some esteem. However, if your interest is fleeting, I demand that you end your association now.”

“My feelings for Jake are none of your concern.”

Captain Hillary took a threatening step forward and Amelia backed into a shrub. “I will not see him suffer again. When you didn’t answer his letters, it crushed him. And then taking up with that rake. Have you no sense of decency?”

“I know nothing about any letters. You are insane.”

“That may be, but I’m certain you know the letters to which I am referring.”

Amelia had had quite enough of his accusations. She could scream and bring a host of gentlemen to her rescue. “When were these supposed letters to have arrived?”

He crossed his arms, his eyes boring in to hers. A shiver ran up her spine. Her scream might not deter him in the least.

“Jake wrote to you from Sussex. Don’t pretend with me.”

Her heart skipped a beat before accelerating to a rapid pace. Jake had written to her? “But I thought…”

She swallowed. She had never received any letters from Jake, but Captain Hillary didn’t seem amenable to believing her.

“Of course, you’re correct, Captain. I should seek him out at once.” She reached out a tentative hand to plead with him to believe her, but she jerked it back when he snarled. “I have no intentions of ever hurting Jake. My feelings for him are heartfelt.”

“See that they are. Don’t disappoint him again.”

His threat hung between them. She had no way to determine if he would truly hurt a lady, but he seemed sincere enough to set off another round of tremors.

Captain Hillary didn’t try to stop her when she slipped by him to hurry along the gravel path toward the house. Through the lighted windows, she could see guests dancing a quadrille. The lively music drifted through the open doors. She dashed up the stairs and into the crush to search for Jake.

Jasper downed two tumblers of brandy in preparation to approach a woman. Yet, the moment he took a step toward the ballroom, he questioned the wisdom of indulging in spirits. He wasn’t foxed, but his eyesight blurred a bit, which wouldn’t help him separate out the married from widowed ladies.

Although plenty of married women engaged in trysts, the idea of an affair with another man’s wife soured his stomach. Aside from the risks of getting oneself shot, Jasper didn’t believe in being a party to cuckolding a fellow gent. Just because he had no desire to become leg-shackled yet didn’t mean he disrespected the sanctity of marriage.

Circling the great hall, he nodded to those he thought were acquaintances. It was too blasted hard to tell with all those masks and billowy capes. Speaking of billowy articles of clothing, the fur-lined robe he wore was going to kill him if he didn’t catch a breeze soon.

Again, he cursed himself for listening to Fiona.
Henry
VIII
? No wonder the ladies kept their distance. Having a reputation for liberating others’ heads from their necks tended to breed mistrust.

Beads of sweat formed on his brow, and he dabbed at them with the sleeve of his robe.

Jasper sighed. He needed a reprieve from the heat. Spotting a door opening onto a balcony, he hurried toward it and slipped outside. He closed the door behind him and welcomed the cool breeze on his damp skin. Still, the night was too warm for a fur-trimmed anything. He swirled the velvet cloak through the air as he removed it, tempted to toss it to the ground below. Instead, he draped it over the railing.

As if the robe wasn’t bad enough, the revolting codpiece under his jerkin squeezed his shaft. Jasper lifted his skirts and jiggled to readjust himself.

“Ah, much better.”

A chuckle startled him, and he spun around to locate the source.

“I thought to scold you for blocking my view, but then you are so very entertaining.” The smoky female voice sent a jolt through his limbs. “What are you, the court jester?”

“Damned Fiona,” he mumbled under his breath. “I’m King Henry the Eighth.” He held his head high as if he were truly royalty, which was absurd given the lady had caught him with his breeches down. Or would that be skirts up? Blast! Either scenario was humiliating.

“You’re not here to find wife number seven, are you?”

Jasper drew back. “Egads! No.”

“Then you mustn’t run off.” The lady stepped from the shadows, her mask held in her hand.

He’d always been the luckiest bugger. Jasper Hainsworth, Earl of Norwick, shared a balcony with the most notoriously libidinous widow in all of London. His gaze shot around the balcony. Where was her ubiquitous companion, Lady Audley?

“Lady Kennell, what brings you outside with all the activity in the ballroom tonight?”

“Likely the same as you, Lord Norwick. It’s hotter than Hades inside. It was either step outside or shuck my dress.”

Her lack of decorum delighted him. He’d heard rumors. “I suppose it was a difficult choice to make. Do you believe you followed the correct path?”

“Now, Lord Norwick, it is no secret I rarely follow the straight and narrow path.”

Her melodious laughter made him tingle in the most wonderful places, naughty places that hadn’t been entertained for several days.

“In fact,” she said, “I haven’t ruled out the complete removal of my attire.”

Jasper’s hand slapped over his hammering heart. “Indeed? Yet, you have no lady’s maid to assist you.”

A slight breeze carried a whiff of vanilla to his nose. Bianca Kennell smelled delicious. A ray of light shone through the glass doors, illuminating her midnight black curls and reflecting off the gold necklace around her neck.

“Hmm,” she purred. “Yes, that is a dilemma.”

A tremor of pleasure raced through him. Lady Kennell responded to him. She didn’t run from the balcony or push him over the edge. What was the world coming to?

He attempted to clear his constricted throat. “M-might I offer my assistance?”

“I never would have mistaken you for a lady’s attendant, my lord.”

“I’m always willing to help a lady in distress.”

Lady Kennell laughed again. “Chivalry is a wonderful thing, Lord Norwick. Perhaps I will require assistance later, but now, I desire refreshment. Will you escort me inside?”

Jasper sprang forward to open the double door for her, allowing her to precede him into the brighter ballroom. Without darkness blurring her features, her appearance struck him dumb.

He had never realized how delicate Lady Kennell was. And he was a large man, towering above her by a foot at least. She reminded him of a fragile porcelain doll. He shuddered at the thought of breaking her.

She pointed an elegant finger in the direction of the refreshment room. “I will join you in a moment, but first I must see to my dear friend. We became separated earlier, and I’ve been unable to locate her.”

He nodded, trying his best to veil his disappointment. “Very well.”

She was deserting him now that she had gotten a good look at him, and Jasper couldn’t blame her. “It was nice conversing with you, Lady Kennell.”

Her arched brows shot upward. “I’ll see you in but a few short moments. Wait for me by the refreshment table.”

“Of course.” Jasper moved toward the adjacent room to seek out refreshments, the smile never leaving his lips. He joined the long queue waiting for the lemonade and hummed a happy tune under his breath. But after waiting an eternity without making any progress toward the punch bowl, his good mood began to fade. He stepped out of place.

Lady Kennell hadn’t joined him yet either. He glanced toward the refreshment room entrance, but she wasn’t anywhere in sight. The lady had probably run as soon as he turned his back. She was a clever one to use implied promises to send him away.

Grumbling, he returned to the ballroom to see if she came his way but couldn’t locate her there either.

Jasper’s shoulders drooped on a sigh. He might be lucky at the gaming tables, but he never won the lady of his choice. How could he have forgotten?

There was no point in staying. He would search for Fiona then leave, whether she cared to join him or not.

***

Jake darted through the crowd, searching for Amelia and his brother. One minute they had been dancing and the next they had disappeared. Knowing Daniel, Jake had checked the veranda first. Relief washed over him upon the fortuitous discovery they were not there.

Thank goodness Jake hadn’t found them outside. He generally frowned upon fratricide.

He considered searching the gardens but dismissed the idea. Amelia wouldn’t slip away with Daniel as she had done with him. She wasn’t that type of woman, unlike her friend, Lady Kennell. In addition, he and Amelia shared a closeness she didn’t have with Daniel.

Nevertheless, as Jake rounded the great hall and refreshment room for the fourth time without spotting Amelia or Daniel, doubts began to niggle at the back of his consciousness. He returned to the French doors opening onto the veranda. Standing in the doorway, half in, half out, he wrestled with whether to scour the gardens. His insides knotted.

Amelia wouldn’t slip away with Daniel. Jake’s weight shifted to his toes as if he prepared to plunge headlong into a canyon. His breaths came hard. But Daniel had no honor. He
would
slip away with Amelia.

Oh, blast and damn!
Jake shot into the heavy night.

***

Amelia hadn’t located Jake in her search of the great hall or refreshment room. The foyer was the last place to look. She lifted to her toes and tried to peer over the guests’ heads. She didn’t see Jake anywhere, but Bibi’s golden asp jutted above the crowd, headed her way.

Amelia pushed through the bodies to reach her friend.

“Have you seen Mr. Hillary?” she asked as soon as she and Bibi met.

“No, but I have been looking for you for the better part of half an hour. Where were you?”

Amelia shook her head. “It’s an involved accounting. I shall tell you later, but I must find Mr. Hillary now. I haven’t searched the foyer.”

“Allow me to assist.”

Together, they foraged forward, making slow progress. A group of ladies blocked their path from the great hall.

“Featherbrains,” Bibi muttered.

Amelia cleared her throat. Lady Banner lowered her mask and turned a cold eye on them before resuming the conversation with her companions.

Bibi stiffened in response to the obvious cut, and Amelia felt her pain. These petty women were no better than her friend was. In fact, Bibi outranked Lady Banner, but the baroness cowed her companions, Ladies Davenport and Clevedon.

Of course, Lord Banner was to blame for his wife’s animosity. Months past, he had boasted to the gentlemen at White’s that he and Bibi had become lovers. And like most gossip, the story had spread to the drawing rooms before the day ended. The baron was a liar, plain and simple. Bibi avoided him like the Black Death. His sojourn to Wales had been a welcome reprieve these past few weeks for it had afforded her friend a moment to relax her guard.

Amelia opened her mouth to confront the women when Lord Norwick appeared by his sister’s side.

Bibi clung to Amelia’s arm. The disdainful look on the earl’s face urged Amelia to take a step back, bringing Bibi with her. Would he too treat them with scorn?

“For goodness’ sake, Fi,” he snapped at his sister, “move aside. Can you not see these ladies wish to pass?”

Amelia suppressed a wild laugh. The expression on Lady Banner’s face when Norwick used her given name and called out her rude behavior was priceless.

The baroness pretended to gasp, her hand upon her chest. “Oh, dear. Please accept our apologies. We were unaware we were barring your path.”

All three women scooted aside to create an opening.

“Thank you,
ladies
,” Norwick said before following Bibi and Amelia to the foyer.

Bibi leaned close to speak in her ear. “Amelia, we should call for my coach. I feel a headache coming on.”

“Oh, dearest, I am sorry. We should get you home immediately, shouldn’t we?”

Norwick came up on Bibi’s side. “Is something the matter, Lady Kennell?”

“I need to call for my carriage. I fear I am unwell.”

Norwick nodded toward the open front doors. “It’s congested outside. It may be half an hour at least before your carriage can be summoned. I have already called for mine. Perhaps you will allow me to assist.”

Amelia thought it unwise to accept any more assistance from the gentleman. Although appreciated, his intervention in the ballroom would likely yield unpleasant consequences in the long term. Yet, when Bibi clutched her head and turned a disturbing shade of green, Amelia tossed aside her concerns. They would have to confront any possible repercussions later.

“Thank you, my lord. Your assistance is appreciated.” She eased Bibi toward the exit and into the cooler air outside. “Goodness! I forgot about Mr. Hillary.”

Bibi slumped against Amelia. “Try to find him. I can wait.”

“No, you can’t. I will send word to him later.”

Bibi looked to Lord Norwick. “My lord, could you send word to Jake Hillary, requesting he call at Verona House this evening?”

“Of course.” He dashed back inside as his carriage rolled up to the curb. In no time, he returned. “I didn’t see Mr. Hillary, but he will receive the message. Or else,” he added under his breath. “You look pale, my lady. Is your ailment worse?”

“I’m afraid so.” Bibi’s voice was little more than a whisper.

The footman opened the door to the Berlin.

“Are you certain we are not impose—ah!” Bibi pressed her fingers to her forehead.

The earl dashed forward to place an arm around her shoulders and guided her into the carriage. “It’s no imposition.”

Lord Norwick offered a hand up to Amelia next.

“You may take us to Verona House,” she said.

The gentleman relayed instructions to the groom before climbing the stairs, the carriage listing under his weight. Bibi opened one eye as he assumed the spot across from them.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“It’s my pleasure, although I wish the circumstances were different.”

Amelia regarded him with wariness. Despite his generosity this evening, she still worried it might be a mistake to accept his help.