Scandalous Endeavors (Ladies and Scoundrels Book 1) (8 page)

The rogue came so close she could feel his warm breath against her skin as his smoldering eyes locked on hers. A million new sensations coursed through her body and the throbbing intensified.

“Fear not, Amelia. I meant what I said; all of your secrets are safe with me.” He turned and sauntered from the room without uttering another word.

SCANDALOUS ENDEAVORS

CHAPTER SEVEN

Amelia threw herself
across the bed and fumed over the audacity of the duke. Then marveled at the way he had made her feel. Captivated and angry at the same time, but for different reasons. The nerve of him; he had even taken liberties with her name! He had called her Amelia as if it were natural to do so. Who did he think he was to refer to her in such an intimate way? As if his dreadful manors weren’t bad enough, he ruined her plan too.

She rolled onto one side. Gathering her blanket to her chest, she hugged a bunched-up area of it. She should have smacked him across his smug face. A sigh escaped her lips. Maybe he honestly meant to shield her from harm. Perhaps he believed he had done her a good deed, saving her reputation from certain ruin. How could he have known she wished to become compromised?

Another opportunity would soon present, and she would make sure nothing got in the way. Grace planned to host a dinner party next week, and Lord Roseington’s name appeared on the guest list. Amelia would make her move and succeed. She rolled onto her back, then opened her eyes and lay staring at the ceiling. Music from the ball seeped into her bedchamber like a serene lullaby. She closed her eyes and focused on it.

Candles flickered and their light illuminated the room around her, bounced off the walls, and cast shadows on the dance floor. Fresh flowers were scattered about in a romantic way and the quartet played a waltz. Lords and ladies dressed for the occasion in silks, velvets, and jewels danced all around her.

The Duke of Goldstone…no, Richard, approached as she entered the grand room. “You are a vision of loveliness in crimson and lace,” he said with a bow.

Amelia replied, “Oh, how you do go on,” then blushed a becoming shade of pink.

Richard smiled, his whole face lighting up. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

Amelia placed her hand in his and allowed him to escort her onto the dance floor. As he took her into his arms, her body warmed. He held her scandalously close. She threaded her fingers through his hair. They glided gracefully across the marble dance floor, eyes locked, unable to tear their gazes from one another.

“Amelia, my dear, I seem to be enchanted by you. I can no longer imagine my life without you in it,” Richard whispered in her ear. She beamed and tilted her head to accept his kiss.

Amelia sprang into an upright position, shaking the bird-witted thoughts from her mind. “I despise the Duke of Goldstone. I have chosen to marry Lord Roseington, and it is precisely what I am going to do.” Still, she could kiss the duke...one kiss would not hurt anyone. Then he would be out of her system, and she could focus on marrying Lord Roseington.

Her heartbeat increased. It was exactly what she would do. The next time she found herself alone with the duke, she would kiss him. After that, she would not think about him anymore. All of her attention would turn to Lord Roseington. Amelia felt much better as she lay back down and soon drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * * *

Richard entered the office, moving straight to the whisky decanter. The sight of Lady Amelia so intimately rapped in Roseington’s arms had sent a jolt straight through his core. Even now his hands shook. The urge to harm Roseington startled him. Why did he care so much for the chit? She clearly meant trouble.

He poured a glass, drained it, then poured another. Were they lovers? Roseington had looked mortified over being caught with her. Perhaps he did not wish to become trapped. Richard strolled to the window. Torches lit the garden below and he focused on one of their flickering flames. Lady Amelia had appeared more angry than embarrassed. Why?

Perhaps she hoped to ensnare the lord? He drummed his fingers upon the side of his glass. No, she did not wish to be compromised. Had her plan been to trap Roseington, she surly would not have been angry over getting caught with him. But then, why had she remained angry after he promised to protect her? The woman proved a mystery.

He conjured her image to mind. Her green eyes had been burned into his soul since their first meeting. Thinking of them now made him want to seek her out and hold her as Roseington had. He longed to feel her perfect lips on his, to taste her sweetness.

Had Roseington kissed her? His blood heated once again. He lifted his glass, relishing the smooth burn of the whisky as it trailed down his throat.

Whatever Lady Amelia played at, Aunt Grace had knowledge of it. He moved to set his glass back on the sideboard before strolling from the room. He would know her game as well, and sooner rather than later.

* * * *

Grace’s garden boasted neat paths lined with an abundance of bright flowers and foliage. Amelia gravitated toward the large stone fountain in its center. The sun warmed her under the parasol as she meandered along the cobblestones. She admired the tulips in various shades surrounding the flowering trees. A small bit of heaven right here in her beloved London. She stopped a few times to smell the wisteria and daffodils as she traveled down deeper into the immense garden.

The smell of spring flowers wrapped around her and comforted her mind. Memories of childhood came flooding back to her. She and Mama used to walk frequently at Everthorne. Amelia used to dance along the paths, chattering nonstop about whatever happened to be on her mind. Mama would encourage her, acting as though every word she uttered carried the utmost significance. How she wished Mama were here now.

She caught sight of the impressive stone fountain and quickened her pace. Adorned with sculpted roses, it featured a statue in the center depicting lovers in a tender embrace. Water flowed from between them, creating a curtain of secrecy around them before landing in the fountain’s base. It was a beautiful scene that evoked thoughts of love, and strangely, made her think of the Duke of Goldstone.

With a sigh, she positioned herself on the fountain’s edge. The first time she laid eyes on the work of art, she was a bright-eyed debutante embarking on her first season. It captured her imagination and made her dream of finding true love. She had vowed to herself in the fountain’s presence to marry for love, or die an old maid. Amelia leaned over a bit and peered at her reflection in the rippling water. That vow seemed like a million years ago. Love no longer mattered; it could not. She reached a hand into the water and glided her fingers across the surface, further distorting her image. Nothing other than staying in England mattered now. Everything she had was here. Her parents would always be here, and she could not abandon them. Who would tend their graves? Protect the things they had spent their lives building or maintaining?

“A shilling for your thoughts, Lady Amelia.”

She jerked her hand from the water and looked up into the duke’s sapphire eyes. Her pulse quickened as she replied, “You are up and about rather early given last night’s ball.” No way would she share her ponderings with him.

He grinned. “I always go for a morning ride. There is nothing more serene than watching the sunrise wash the landscape in color.” He swept his arm out in an arch indicating the scenery. “What brings you out at this hour?”

Standing up, she took a step away from him in an effort to calm her trifling body. “I had the impression everyone remained sleeping.” She gazed up through her lashes. “I needed something to occupy my time.” He stepped closer to her, so close that she could feel his breath and see the pulse that beat just beneath the skin of his neck. Her nerve endings tingled as she breathed his scent, relishing the musky aroma. “I stopped to admire the fountain. It’s a wonderful piece of art.”

“Indeed,” he said. His gaze fused with hers.

She tipped her chin up, aimed her lips at his, and rose onto her toes. When their lips touched, a tingling sensation ran through her. The warmth and softness of his mouth caused her body to cry out for something she did not understand. Amelia twined her fingers into his soft onyx locks. She wanted this moment to last forever. His tongue lightly wet her lips as he pulled her closer. She parted them on instinct, wanting what he offered. Never could she have imagined something so divine.

Suddenly, he broke the kiss, and stepped away from her. “I do not--”

She raised her chin defiantly. “Forgive me, Your Grace, I know not what I do.” She waved her hand and continued, “Something just came over me.”

His eyes glowed. Whether in pleasure or anger, she wasn’t sure.

“It seems to me you know exactly what you do. If that little show last night wasn’t enough proof, this display certainly is.” His tone cut through her.

Anger crept in and her body began to shake. “Last night is none of your concern. You can forget about our kiss as well. I assure you it will not happen again.”

“Please use my given name. Now that you have compromised me, Richard will do just fine.” He smirked roguishly. “As for your little game, Amelia, I intend to figure out exactly what you are up to.”

She swung her right hand through the air, effectively landing it palm down across his chiseled cheekbone. With her heart racing, she spun around and ran for the house, her skirts clutched tightly with both hands. His boisterous chuckle followed her every step of the way.

Upon entering her chamber, she collapsed on the vanity stool, catching her head in her hands. Hot tears flowed freely to pool in her palms. What a mess she had made. Her shoulders quivered as intense waves of emotion washed through her. He’d ruin everything. Discover her plan and warn Lord Roseington off. Why did he even care? She sobbed harder. Why did that kiss have to feel so right? Why didn’t she feel the same pull with Lord Roseington?

Sobbing would get her nowhere. Inhaling a deep breath, she straightened her back and wiped away the tears that now stained her face. The Duke of Goldstone proved to be a positively vexing man who meant nothing to her. The strange feelings were little more than warning bells telling her to stay away, to stop daydreaming about him. From this moment on, heaven help her, she would forget about the scoundrel.

Now that you have compromised me
. Lord, how could she have been so foolish? What if he insisted she marry him? No, she would not consider the possibility. She shook her head. He would not make such a demand.

She gazed at her image in the looking glass. “Amelia Cosgrove, you will marry Lord Roseington. There is not a thing his grace, the insufferable Duke of Goldstone, can do about it.” She grinned at her reflection. After all, she remained determined. And with Grace, as well as Sarah, on her side she did not see how she could fail. Surely by this time next week she would be engaged to Lord Roseington. Richard would become nothing more than an unpleasant memory. Amelia nibbled her lower lip.
Richard
.