The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga) (5 page)

“Did you see him?” Wentworth asked. “I don’t believe anyone has seen
him in twelve years. Not even his cousin, Stuart Spencer, and they were quite
close. I met Bridgeton on several occasions when I was young. By the time I
came of age he was already living in self-imposed exile. I never met his older
brother and his brother’s wife.”

“Shame on you all for gossiping about that poor man,” Emma scolded.
Every set of eyes in the room fell on her.

“I didn’t mean to gossip.” Her brother, the duke, blushed. Oh, this was
good, Amelia thought. Never in all her years had she ever seen her brother
blush.

“I knew the parents well,” Mother began. “They were lovely people. And
the two sons, although hellions at times, adored their mama. Such a terrible
tragedy to befall their family––and to say what they say about that young man
is horrible. He lost his brother and dear sister-in-law in such a short time.
Let him grieve in peace if he so wants. I don’t believe he killed either of
them. I’m relieved the parents did not live long enough to see the tragic turn
of events.”

“I met him,” Amelia blurted out.
Oh, no. I did not really say that
out loud, did I?
Since every inquisitive eye looked at her now, she must
have. Taking a deep breath and ignoring her racing heart, she explained. “I enjoy
taking long walks. I often spend time near the small stream bordering our
properties, sitting on the rocks and thinking.” She ignored Sebastian’s eyes
the most. He would not make her feel guilty for her friendship with William.
“It’s peaceful and the sound of the water trickling by soothes me.”

“What does he look like?” Bella asked, wide-eyed with curiosity.

“Yes, Amelia,” Sebastian snorted. “What does he look like?”

She felt her cheeks flame as she remembered visions of their last
encounter. “He’s handsome and tall but thin, which makes him look rather
unhealthy. He does not look as though he would hurt anyone.”

“He’s tall and dark-haired, with piercing silver-blue eyes and not so
thin that anyone would take him as weak.” It surprised Amelia to hear Sebastian
describe William. “He appeared amiable enough.”

By the knowing way Wentworth looked at her and by the slight nod of his
head, Amelia saw that he knew. He knew how she felt about Lord Bridgeton.
But
how?
Sometimes her brothers were scary. Placing her teacup on the tray, she
covered up a yawn with her hand.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll rest before dinner.” With an
apologetic smile she rose and headed toward the staircase, making haste in her
ascent.

***

Wentworth and Sebastian sat in the study, sipping sherry before dinner.
The duke was thrilled to have his brother and sister back. When he first set
eyes on Sebastian after so long, his stomach had clenched tightly. How would
this go? Had Sebastian forgiven him for falling in love with Emma and marrying
her?

“I’m sorry how things turned out,” Wentworth said quietly.

Sebastian waved his arm around. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I
hurt Emma with those horrible things I said. First chance I get, I’ll
apologize. It’s not anybody’s fault we both fell in love with her and she fell
in love with you.” Sebastian held up his hands as Wentworth stated to interrupt.
“Wait. Let me finish. I’ve been rehearsing this speech for over a year. I can
look back now and realize I didn’t truly love her. I loved her, but not the way
you do. Infatuation is a better word to describe what I felt. And to tell the
truth, relief washed over me today when I saw her and my heart did nothing
extraordinary. Any fool can see how devoted to each other you are. And though I
ran, I won’t say the past year and a half was wasted because it wasn’t. I
learned a lot in America. And if I may brag, I turned quite a profit for your
business there.”

The elder brother and duke leaned forward in his seat, nodding his
head. “Yes, you did. You’ve made yourself quite wealthy from the sale as well.
Emma and I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done. And as far as our
history, it’s forgotten. Now what I wish to discuss is our sister, Amelia. I
received your letters and hers, but sometimes letters can be deceiving. Tell me
the truth. How is she? How was the pregnancy and how’s her daughter? Has our
sister gotten over Rycroft’s death?”

“Her pregnancy went well and the delivery was an easy one, according to
the midwife. As soon as the baby arrived, her maid Gretchen told anyone who
asked that it was her daughter and her husband had died. I don’t think Amelia
will go for this tale much longer. She wants to claim her daughter as her own
more than anything. All her time is spent in the nursery with her child, who is
quite engaging. I enjoy time with her as well. The baby resembles our sister.
Anyone could see that immediately.” Sebastian paused and sipped his sherry. “As
for Rycroft. I’d have said she still deals with a broken heart. Except I have
to warn you, I saw Bridgeton and Amelia together. There’s something there.”

“That’s a problem. I could sense her feelings when she spoke about him.
I’ve nothing against him, except he’s a little old for her. But what worries me
is his reputation. It’s ruined––quite possibly beyond repair.” Wentworth
unconsciously rubbed his chest. “Amelia needs a husband with an impeccable
reputation, one that can survive the scandal of Olivia. I have to admit this to
you––at first I believed we could convince Amelia to give up Olivia to her maid
forever. Now that I’m a father, I could never ask her to give up her child. I
could never give up Hamilton.”

This realization about his sister and her attachment to her child had
bothered Wentworth since the day Hamilton entered his world. “To tell you the
truth, if she wants to live the rest of her life in Dover, unmarried, I will
consider it. She has the right to be Olivia’s mother. However, another part of
me wants her to have a husband. The thought of her spending her life alone in
the country saddens me.”

“I’ve been with them since the birth,” Sebastian said. “Amelia loves her
daughter and is a good mother even if Olivia does not know she’s her true
mother. Their resemblance is startling. It almost makes me want to marry and
procreate.”

“Marissa is yet unmarried,” Wentworth said. Myles’s sister, Marissa,
had undergone her first Season when Sebastian left. Wentworth knew she had
pined for Sebastian ever since.

Sebastian’s mouth curved into a smile. “Matchmaking already, brother?”

Wentworth shrugged his shoulders. “No. It’s just that the two of you
were friends. And she’s grown into a beautiful woman.”

“I’m sure she has.” Sebastian’s mouth now tugged into a frown. “I don’t
think I want to marry.”

“But you just said…” Wentworth huffed.

“I said it makes me
almost
want to marry. Almost is not the same
as wanting to marry.”

“My mistake.” His older brother, the duke, smiled knowingly.
Time
will tell
.

CHAPTER SIX

“Lady Amelia, you will be the most beautiful lady at the ball tonight,”
declared Rosie, her ladies’ maid on loan from her mother. Amelia did not
believe that for a moment, but she did study herself in the cheval mirror. The
high-waisted, white satin ball gown, with its low-scooped neckline and ice-blue
satin ribbon trim, did indeed flatter her figure. Rosie swept Amelia’s thick
sable hair up high, leaving a large curl dangling over her right shoulder. On
her ears Amelia wore small pearls, and around her neck hung a pearl and
sapphire necklace. As usual, her mother knew what jewelry should accompany the
gown. She studied herself again.

Perhaps she did look beautiful.

Butterflies took flight inside her stomach, attesting to how nervous
and frightened she felt. Rosie helped her into her matching pelisse and
declared her ready.

Ready. Will I ever be ready?

As she nervously descended the stairs, her hand gripped the railing as
she willed her heart to behave and stop trying to leap out of her chest. And
she silently begged God not to let her cast up her accounts and embarrass
herself.

When she glimpsed the whole family, watching and waiting for her at the
bottom, her steps faltered. Sebastian hurried up and took her hand. “Easy, take
a breath. And, may I say, you look beautiful, sister.”

The loving touch of her brother soothed her, but not nearly enough.

***

Within the hour they arrived at the Earl and Countess of Northborough’s
large estate just outside of London proper. Myles’s family hosted this
evening’s ball. Carriages lined the long drive, and passengers waited to
disembark at the formal entrance to the enormous Tudor manor. Amelia clasped
her hands in her lap while her heart beat so fast and so loudly it seemed to
deafen her.

Bella leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Try to relax and enjoy
yourself. I’ll stay by your side all night, if you wish. And please, smile and
stop looking as though you’re going to the gallows.”

“I’ll try,” Amelia said as she glanced across to Sebastian, who
appeared lost in his own unhappy thoughts. She prayed the night would improve
for all of them with time.

The receiving line, thankfully, did not torture her. She’d known
Myles’s parents all her life. They were, as usual, wonderful, kind, and loving,
and they did not fail to make her feel most welcome. Amelia curtsied and held
out her hand when she approached the charming Myles. He brought her fingers to
his lips and grinned wide, all the while turning a perfect bow.

“Amelia, you have grown lovelier since I last saw you. The gentlemen
will be tripping over each other, vying for your attentions this evening.”

“Really, Norwich, such flattery.” Amelia’s face warmed. “I’m afraid
they’ll trip over each other as they run the other way.”

His smiled faltered. “Do not think such things. Would you do me the
honor of the first dance?” Myles’s quintessential grin was back.

Amelia glanced alongside her to Bella, who waited to greet Myles. “I
thank you, but I believe my sister would be much better company for you on the
dance floor.”

Myles nodded to Amelia before turning to greet Bella. And there was no
mistaking the emotions she glimpsed in their eyes. They cared about each other.
It made her wonder why Myles waited to suggest a match. Could it be Wentworth
did not want such a match?

No, that could not be right. Their brother wanted them all to marry for
love, as he and Emma had. And tonight she could tell Myles and Bella were in
love. So what stopped Myles from asking for her sister’s hand in marriage? Did
Myles possess a deep, dark secret?

To Amelia’s utter surprise, she danced every set once the music began.
And she had to admit she enjoyed herself. It had been a long time since she’d
danced. And she so loved to dance. It did not matter that her partners were her
brothers and their family friends, Myles and Lord Amesbury. She danced and
danced until she was lightheaded.

Needing to catch her breath and moisten her parched throat, Amelia
paused from dancing. She was standing at the refreshment table sipping punch
with Emma and Bella when a hush suddenly fell over the room. Whispers traveled
from one person to another akin to thunder rumbling in the distance. What had
caused all the fuss?

And then she overheard two older matrons. “The nerve of him, showing up
after all these years. Doesn’t he realize he’s not welcome amongst the
ton
any
longer? Such a dreadful scandal. One simply does not forget that people said he
murdered his brother and sister-in-law. The passing of time doesn’t change the
facts.”

Amelia gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. They could only be
talking about one person.
William.
She stood on tiptoe and twisted her
head from side to side, trying to glimpse him.

“Amelia, who are you looking for?” Emma asked as she looked around as
well.

“Lord Bridgeton.”

“Our neighbor in Dover?
That
Lord Bridgeton? But I thought
Wentworth said he never came to London.”

“He doesn’t,” Amelia replied as her heart pounded against her ribs.
Indeed, what brought him here? Did she dare hope he had come the distance
because he wanted to see her?

Finally her eyes fell on him. Her breath stopped. She’d never seen him
dressed in formal attire. It suited him. William wore a black frock coat over a
silver embroidered waistcoat that highlighted the several gray streaks
threading his dark, thick, wavy hair. His white shirt and cravat were
impeccably ironed, and he wore black Hessians instead of the heeled dress shoes
worn by most gentlemen present. The boots made it hard to tell where his black
trousers ended and his boots began. Then she noticed he was not alone.

Beside William stood a handsome gentleman of similar height and build.
Those were not the only similarities. The resemblance was close enough that
they could be brothers. Except they could not be, as William’s brother was
dead. They each had a beautiful young lady draped on their arms. These women
also resembled the two men, but were beautiful rather than handsome. Leading
the group was a proud old matron walking with a cane. Amelia did not think she
had ever seen any of them before. Who were the people that accompanied William?

Since the receiving line had ended long ago, Myles and his parents
approached the newcomers with welcome smiles. Clearly Myles’s family knew them
and expected them. After a time, William looked across the room directly at
her. His expression was guarded, though he did nod his head.

“Did you see that?” she asked Bella and Emma, her voice breathless.

“See what?” Bella asked.

“Lord Bridgeton. He looked directly at me.”

“Oh, is that him? He
is
handsome. Resembles his cousin, Mr.
Stuart Spencer,” Bella remarked.

“That’s his cousin?” Amelia gasped. No wonder they looked alike. “Who
are the two young ladies present?”

 “Mr. Spencer’s younger sisters,” Bella answered. “And the other
woman with them is their grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Bridgeton.”

“Bella,” Amelia murmured, “how do you know them?”

“Oh, one sister came out last year. And I’ve danced several times with
Mr. Spencer the past two Seasons. You were too wrapped up with Captain Rycroft
your first Season to notice anyone else. I believe I caught Mr. Spencer’s eye
my first Season. But as you both know, only Myles will do for me.”

“Bella, to say such things, when anyone could hear,” Emma chastised.

***

William didn’t think he could stand there another minute while Amelia,
looking breathtaking, stood across the room staring at him. However, he forced
himself to stay put. Both Amelia’s brothers were present. William noticed
Sebastian standing across the way, and he did not look pleased to see him. The
older brother, the duke, stared at him with intelligent and knowing blue eyes.
If William had the slightest chance of courting Amelia, he needed to take his
time and plan a course of action. He needed the duke’s respect and permission.

Before William could formulate a plan, both of Amelia’s brothers were
by his side.

“Lord Bridgeton, what brings you to London this Season?” Wentworth
asked, his eyes alight with knowledge. William got the feeling the duke had
been informed that he and Amelia had spent time together.

“Spencer finally convinced me to come out of hiding, as I’ve nothing to
hide.” He paused and looked at the other brother. “Lord Sebastian, it’s good to
see you again.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Sebastian mumbled.

“Please excuse my brother’s poor manners,” Wentworth apologized
stiffly. “He’s been in America too long.”

“I prefer gentlemen who speak their minds.” William grinned at
Sebastian, showing he did not take the insult to heart. Then he bowed courteously.

 “If you gentlemen will excuse me, there is someone I wish to
speak with.”

He pivoted around, paused, and turned back. “Wentworth, would you be
kind enough to formally introduce me to your sister?” William had almost
forgotten he could not traipse across the room and engage Amelia in
conversation without a formal introduction. While he waited for Wentworth to
speak, his breath suspended in his throat.

“Indeed,” Wentworth replied. “Come with me. I’ll also introduce you to
my wife—and both my sisters.”

William followed Wentworth across the ballroom, ignoring the stares and
whispers meant to torment him. People could say what they wanted; he did not
have plans to run back to Dover anytime soon. Also, as an earl, he deserved the
respect due anyone of his station. He made a conscious decision not to hide
anymore or feel sorry for himself. He’d continue to miss his brother and his
brother’s wife, but no matter what people thought, he now realized he deserved
a life––and a happy one. He sensed only one person could make him happy and
he’d followed her here, to God-forsaken London in the height of the Season.

“Lord Bridgeton,” Wentworth began once they reached the three ladies,
stepping up beside the woman who, he assumed, from the affection in her eyes,
must be his wife. “May I introduce you to Her Grace, the Duchess of Wentworth?”

“Your Grace, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” William said
as he bowed over the hand she proffered.

“The honor is mine, Lord Bridgeton. I believe my husband mentioned
you’re our neighbor in the country?” Her Grace’s American accent was charming.
The smile she gave William appeared genuine, and her sparkling, blue eyes
didn’t miss a thing.

“Yes, we’re neighbors. When next you are in residence, I hope you’ll
call on me for tea.”

“Thank you, I’d enjoy that immensely,” the young and beautiful duchess
replied.

“Lady Amelia, Lady Isabella,” Wentworth continued the introductions,
gesturing to each in turn. “May I present Lord Bridgeton?”

The blonde, Lady Isabella, spoke up first. “It’s a pleasure to meet
you, Lord Bridgeton.” She curtsied, smiled, and offered her white-gloved hand.

Taking it, he brought it briefly to his lips and bowed. “The pleasure
is all mine, Lady Isabella.”

He turned and met Amelia’s soft brown eyes, took the hand she extended
to his lips, and bowed. “Lady Amelia, it is an honor to make your acquaintance
at last.”

She curtsied daintily, full of grace as usual “Likewise, my lord.”

“Would you do me the honor of the next dance, Lady Amelia?” He turned
to Wentworth. “Do I have your permission to dance with Lady Amelia?”

Did William hear incorrectly, or did Wentworth growl? The duchess
placed a warning hand on her husband’s arm and squeezed, causing Wentworth to
wince. “Very well, you have my permission to dance with my sister.”

Amelia bowed and mouthed a silent
Thank you
to her brother. She
placed her hand on William’s forearm. As they walked onto the dance floor,
every eye in the room rested upon them. And the rumbling whispers were
deafening. William could just imagine the things being said.
What is that
murderer doing in this very ballroom? The nerve of him, showing his face in
polite Society after killing both his brother and his brother’s loving wife.
Has the duke finally gone mad, like his father before him, to allow such a
creature to dance with his sister?

And there were others, not so hurtful.
How nice to see the earl back
in London getting on with his life––such tragedy to befall one good family.
What a lovely couple he and Lady Amelia make.
He could dream, could he not?

Somehow the orchestra read William’s mind and began to play a waltz. He
almost didn’t trust himself to touch Amelia as he led her to an open spot on
the floor. Memories of the last time he held her made his lust flare, and he
consciously had to tamp it down. Amelia smiled shyly up at him as she placed
her quivering hand in his and rested her other lightly on his hip. His skin
burned where they touched. His hand, resting at the small of her back, wanted
so badly to pull her close. He ached to bring her closer to his heart.

“Are you surprised to see me?” he murmured close to her ear, loving the
fact that he could see her face blush a becoming shade of pink as he drew back.

“Very surprised,” Amelia replied as her full lips curled up into a
smile, causing William’s heart to melt down around them. He knew nothing would
probably come of their relationship other than friendship. Wentworth would
never consider him worthy enough to court his sister. So he would take what
little she could offer and be content with that. He did not blame Wentworth.
William had a tarnished reputation, even though he had once stood among the
most honorable of them all.

“Oh, look.” She turned her head to the left. “Myles is dancing with
Bella. Do they not make a lovely couple? And look…” Her voice rose with
excitement once again. “Sebastian is dancing with Marissa. She was devastated
when he moved to America.”