To Tame a Dragon (2 page)

Amelia glanced at Clarice’s mother, then
stood pointedly. “I believe fresh air would do you good,
Clarice. Would you take a turn with me out to the garden?”

Amelia did not know if intelligence or
kindness made Clarice agree, but she came. It was possible she
simply wanted to get away from her mother; it was blessedly
quieter outside.

Clarice was quiet as they walked. Amelia was not
heartless, the girl had taken a fairly fatal blow. Without her
intervention the girl would no doubt end a bitter spinster,
ostracized from polite society. Jameson was a scoundrel.
However, he did have his reasons, and Clarice deserved to know
them.

“Have you heard the gossip of Jameson, my
dear?”

Clarice looked startled. “Gossip? Has he done
something dreadful?”

Amelia hid her smile. Jameson had really made
this too easy. Even his devoted—well, recently-devoted—bride was
willing to believe the worst of him.

“Not anything recent, although I will rectify
that today, but from his past. About his parents?”

Clarice frowned and said slowly, “No. But
there can’t have been anything too terrible about them. Father
would never have agreed to the marriage if there were.”

“It is a shame young women are kept so
ignorant. I believe a great many surprises could be lessened if
we were simply informed. However, this happened a long time ago.
Mayhap the only person it still affects is Jameson.”

Amelia sent a prayer to the skies, hoping one
day Jameson would forgive her, then said, “His mother killed his
father and then took her own life.”

Clarice gasped, but Amelia simply nodded. “He
was... indiscreet.” She glanced at the girl, hoping she wouldn’t
have to explain mistresses and the reason for them. Fortunately,
Clarice blushed. Tomorrow would have been her wedding day after
all and what little instruction she’d received was apparently
enough.

“They fought. A vicious physical fight that
ended with both of them at the bottom of the grand stairs.
Jameson’s father died there and his mother was paralyzed on one
side of her body. Her face frozen in a mask of hate and terror.”

Amelia still remembered Jameson arriving
soaked and frightened, muddied and sobbing. He had run miles
through London to get her father, but it had been too late. When
her father had returned, Jameson in tow, he had forbidden his
children to go anywhere near the place. Amelia still wished she
had obeyed. The sight of Lady Nighting’s face had haunted her
nightmares for years.

“His mother lived for two more months,
then wheeled her chair into the pond and drowned.” Amelia
glanced at the girl’s green face. “I wish she had died the same
night as the Earl. For two months Jameson lived alone with her,
looking at her, listening to her. Hate had
poisoned her and she did all she could to make sure her son
would be nothing like his father.”

She had succeeded, though Amelia suspected
not in the way she meant. Jameson knew his father to be cold and
dutiful, and Jameson was anything but. Amelia suspected Lady
Nighting had meant for Jameson to not give in to his animal
flesh. But twelve year-old boys rarely took things as planned.
No, Jameson stayed far from responsibility. His engagement to
Clarice had come as a shock, the ending of it much more in
character. If he had no wife, he had no fear of humiliating her.
It would be too easy to humiliate Clarice.

“What was his father like?”

“Gray and dreary. I believe the only exciting
thing he ever did in his life was have a mistress. However, when
an earl loves his mistress more than his wife and child, more
than duty, he can forget that other people’s opinions matter.
His mistress became an increasingly common sight around town. On
his arm, in his carriage. Lady Nighting was whispered about,
laughed at, humiliated, pitied. She had been a very beautiful
woman and I would think the pity was what would have stung the
most.”

Clarice looked at the garden, unseeing. Up
until now, the poor girl had probably pictured the laughter of
the
ton
, not the pity.

“I believe you’re right, Lady Amelia. Pity...
Pity might indeed be worse than laughter.”

“Laughter is a comment on the past, my dear,
while pity is a comment on the future. One can learn from the
mistakes of the past, but how can one defend oneself from the
future?”

Clarice stopped and looked her fully in the
eye. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to understand that
Jameson was afraid he would do to you what his father did to his
mother. That is why he ended the engagement. And also understand
that he doesn’t realize that by ending the engagement he has
done exactly what he feared. To him, this is the lesser evil.”

Clarice looked away, her small fists
clenched, and Amelia gently covered one with her hand.

“I also want you to understand that he is
correct. What you are feeling and what you will go through is a
tenth of what his mother went through. And you at least have the
opportunity to undo the damage before it is too late. To change
the laughter and the pity to something else entirely.”

Clarice voice was very small as she asked
simply, “How?”

Amelia linked her arm through Clarice’s.
“Gossip is a game, my dear. And the winner is almost always the first
one out of the gate. We shall start a little rumor that you were
the one who ended the engagement. That’s it. The rumor mill will
do the rest; I’m sure they will come up with something suitably
horrific. And tonight you will be happy and relieved
and looking for a replacement.”

“Do you really think this will work, Lady
Amelia? Even if everyone believes I threw him over instead, that
won’t make me look very attractive as a partner.”

“I dare say you will have ten marriage
proposals in the next week. Never underestimate the allure of a
challenge.”

The poor child still looked unhappy. She was
not grasping her good luck as quickly as Amelia had hoped.

“My dear, let me be the first to tell you
that life with Jameson would be one frustration after another.
There is nothing wrong with that, but some, if not most,
personalities are poorly suited to that lifestyle. You need a
calmer husband, and I would advise you not to accept any
proposals that come in the near future. Let the hot-heads weed
themselves out and then find a decent man to spend the rest of
your days with.”

Clarice sighed, looking out at the distant
sky. “I don’t think I shall find anyone quite like Lord
Nighting. He is so very handsome. And charming.”

Amelia nodded. “He is. But so is the devil.
Now off you go. Tonight you must look radiant. You must look as
if the future is before you and you never realized how wonderful
it was going to be.”

“Thank you, Lady Amelia. I truly wonder if
this will work, but I do feel better.”

“Don’t thank me, Clarice. Thank your knee.”

The brothers of Miss Underwood could only be
described as fops. Jameson wondered briefly where she had
learned that move, as he doubted it was from them. But maybe
they’d been wilder and less inclined to giggle when they were
younger.

They came sooner than he’d expected and he’d
not got around to informing the butler to keep them out.
Thankfully, Robin was still around, but after the first cries of
horror and dismay he’d realized they were more upset with him
for disturbing their breakfast than with jilting their sister.

“I say, man, do you know what havoc a sister
can create?”

“I shouldn’t think we’ll be back for
breakfast anytime this week.”

“My head’s still pounding from the screams.”

“And look at my cravat! Just look at it!”

There were an ungodly number of them, and all
so similar in dress and manner Jameson had never figured out who
was who.

Robin poured glasses for them all.

“I did like you, you know. Excellent fashion
sense.”

One brother nodded to another.

“Excellent. Remember the new knot his man
taught ours?”

“Not much more you can ask for in the
blighter who’s taking your sister off your hands.”

“Too true. We won’t be getting any
better for her now.”

Robin topped up Jameson’s glass. “She’s a sweet
girl. I’m sure there’ll be dozens lined up for her now that
she’s available again.”

Four snorts echoed his statement. “Fat lot
you know. She’s a silly little twit.”

“Not much in the purse or the upstairs.”

“And she’s not getting any younger.”

“She had a brief surge in popularity once his
lordship here snagged her, but that’ll be gone before you can
say the engagement’s off.”

“Not that we blame you, man.”

“No, no. Understand completely.”

“Still, would’ve been nice having a lord in
the family.”

“Too right.”

Jameson laid his head back down on the
pillow. He’d escaped more than a marriage with his hasty exit
that morning. The brothers had been fine fun during the
engagement but Jameson realized the party would have ended much
too quickly. In his opinion there could only be one glorified
dandy in a family and this one was blessed with four already.
Robin obviously concurred with that opinion; he sipped his drink
with a look that said all too clearly that five dandies in a
room was four too many. Jameson would have been forced to give
up his fashionable ways simply to keep himself fresh and separate from
the brothers Underwood. He suppressed a shudder and took a
steadying drink to fortify himself.

He felt a twinge of real regret for Miss
Underwood; neither her brothers nor her fiancé cared more
for her well-being than for his own. He sent a silent prayer
that Amelia could indeed find Miss Underwood a better suited match. The
poor girl deserved something better than the five self-absorbed
men in this room.

But Jameson knew, unfortunately a tad too
late, that he could not be that man for Miss Underwood. He might
remember for a time to be courteous and generous with his
attentions and care, but then he would forget. Miss Underwood,
gentle girl that she was, would never remind him. She needed a
man whose very core centered around caring for others.

What Jameson’s core consisted of he knew not,
but he feared it centered around drink and waistcoats. Watching
the brothers Underwood prance around the room he thought for a
moment that he might need to make a change in his life.

Amelia’s afternoon had been filled with tea
and carefully-worded hints to three of the chattiest young ladies she knew of.
She had no doubt that by this evening there would be little else
talked of but Jameson and Clarice. She’d hurried to tell Jameson and Robin her plan and
found the two men entertaining four identical blonde boys
laughing into their glasses.

“I guess I was wrong about needing to keep
your wits about you. Will there be a duel then?”

A blonde head turned in her direction and
gaped at her. “A duel?”

“He’d kill us with a glance.”

“Good lord, woman. What madness.”

The last brother held his hand to his chest.
“Is that expected?”

“Not any longer. I don’t know what nonsense
Lord Nighting has been filling you with, but Clarice ended the
engagement.”

“Never!”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I told you she was a twit.”

“Why wouldn’t she want to marry his
lordship?”

Amelia looked at the smug expression on
Jameson’s face. “I can think of two reasons right off hand.”

He smiled at her. “What can I say, Amelia.
Some of us are loved beyond reason.”

Robin looked between Amelia and Jameson. “If
she ended it, why did she kick him?”

Jameson nodded sagely. “Yes, Amelia, why did
she?”

“After having been jilted, Jameson lost his
temper and said something quite rude, as he is wont to do.
Clarice lost hers in the process and tried to kick him in the
shin. Alas, the poor girl has terrible aim. I’m sorry, Jameson.
I tried to make her see reason but she wouldn’t take you back.
She said what you did was unforgivable.”