To Tame a Dragon (3 page)

Five heads swiveled to Jameson. “What did you
do?”

He sipped his drink, staring at Amelia.

She hid a smile as five heads swiveled back
towards her. “What did he do? She wouldn’t tell me, but she said
she could never marry him. No matter how much he begged.”

Jameson coughed into his drink and Amelia
rushed ahead before he could speak.

“No, Jameson. It’s best for all to simply
give her up. She said your actions were not those of a man she
wished to spend her life and heart on. I daresay she’s suffered
much already. I can only assume you’ve been up to your tricks as
usual.”

Jameson’s eyes glittered. Whether it was anger or
laughter was sometimes hard to tell with him.

“Well, Amelia. Marriage can not tame all men.
I suspect I am of that ilk.”

“We all suspect it. And now Clarice has seen
the light. I advise you to stay your distance from her; her
wrath runs dangerous.”

Four blonde heads turned as one to stare at
the prostrate form of their once and future king. Lights went on
as if lit by a match as their eyes rested at the apex of his
thighs, and Amelia had to bite her cheek from laughing at his
discomfort.

“Well, he had us going.”

“When all along she’d been the one to end
it.”

“He must’ve done something rotten to get her
so mad. Wonder what it was?”

The last brother took a long look at Jameson
and slowly shook his head.

“It must have been terribly rotten.”

The blonde boys took their leave, whispering
fiercely between themselves. Amelia ordered tea and no one said
a word until the sound of the closing door reached them.

Jameson stared at her. “Amelia.”

Robin set his glass down sharply. “This takes
the cake. Rumors will be flying in less than two hours.”

“May I remind you both that what Jameson did
this morning was terrible and rotten. I have simply rearranged
the order to protect the poor girl you got into this mess. You
will suffer far less than she would.”

Jameson looked less than pleased. “They’ll
have me murdering a child before the night is over, Amelia.”

“I expect it will be more along the lines of
a breeding mistress or your intentions to house one of your
bastards that will win the populace’s vote.”

“Amelia!”

“Oh Robin, your defense of him is touching,
but I have no doubt that even with the worst of rumors he will
find a suitable wife willing to overlook it for his face and
fortune. But the next time, Jameson, I trust you will ask for my
opinion before you go haring off. God knows what a mess you make
of it by yourself.”

“Perhaps I should simply leave the looking to
you, my dear. I assume you could find me a decent girl.”

“That would be an excellent idea. But I’d
wait for the rumors to die down a little. You weren’t in a rush,
were you?”

“Hardly.”

“I thought not. When the time comes I’ll find
you an excellent match. Clarice is a nice girl, but too nice for
the likes of you. You need someone who instead of reacting to
the news of your impending desertion would simply tie you to the
altar. That would have been the simplest course of action.”

Robin guffawed. “Simplest? You sound like
Napoleon of the marriage mart.”

Jameson stared at Amelia, his hand halfway to
his mouth. “It would have been less painful at least, old
friend. Your sister may be in the right.”

“Of course I am. You are not the kind of man
who goes willingly to his doom... er, I mean to his future.”

Jameson smiled and sipped his drink. “You
are, as always my dear, completely correct. I will, in the
future, defer to your superior knowledge of my character. Robin?
A toast. To your sister and her diabolical, yet ingenious,
disentanglement of my and poor Miss Underwood’s future.”

The siblings stared at him, one looking for
signs of excess drink, the other for signs of sanity. Finding
neither they drank their respective beverages.

T
wo weeks had passed since
the fiasco
,
as Amelia called it, and Jameson considered the situation he was
in with a fatalistic air. He was now
pièce de
résistance
of the
ton
. The only place he
could escape the whispers, the laughs, and the speculation was
in the company of his two oldest friends. Today he was keeping
Amelia company while she snipped roses, of all things. He knew
full well it was his own doing. Months earlier he had thought
Miss Underwood would make him an excellent wife. She was sweet,
kind, and happy. All things he’d thought would make for a
lasting relationship. But alas, he was not cut out for sweet or
kind; it was too dull. And he’d seen, in the dullness, his demise.
His emotions, still bruised and raw after all these years, had
flooded back and he’d panicked. He’d seen his father’s face
looking back at him in the mirror. He’d seen his mother’s
beautiful face frozen into that rage-filled expression for the
rest of her days, short though they were. He could not do that
to himself or Miss Underwood. She deserved better. Whether he
did or not was up for debate, but he could not help but fight so desolate a future.

It would certainly be easier to give up on the idea of
marriage altogether. Indeed, he wouldn’t have to try all that hard now that
Amelia had done her work.

He smiled. It was a shame she was not in
charge of the militia. Napoleon would have surrendered at the
first sighting. He would have seen in an instant that she would
find the most expedient way of disposing of him and consequences
be damned. Jameson had no doubt that if he told her he wished to
marry this week she would find a bride for him as quickly as
she’d made him the laughingstock of London. She’d march with her
head held high, call the best girls, and drag them mercilessly
to him. And no doubt by the time they arrived they’d all think
it was their own idea to wed the now black cad of the
ton
.

A man would never get bored with Amelia.
Indeed, he’d have to stay three steps ahead if he could, or he’d
find himself bound for the colonies in search of something
vital, only to find when he arrived he had no idea what.

But he’d need never worry about treading on
her sensibilities. If her husband so much as looked at another
woman, she’d give him a sound tongue-lashing and off to bed
without his supper. Possibly off to the colonies yet again, poor
lad.

No wonder the chit turned down a proposal
nearly every week. The heady mix of excitement and peace of mind
was more alluring than her dowry. Married to Amelia? Heaven
indeed for the man lucky enough to catch her. The trick, it
seemed, was in getting her to accept.

“It’s come to my attention, Amelia, that you
are as yet unwed.”

A laugh escaped her. “I’m surprised you
noticed, Jameson. What was it that gave me away?”

“I’m simply wondering why? Has there not been
a single satisfactory man in the scads who have proposed? Pray
tell what you are looking for.”

Amelia snipped a rose, sniffed it, and looked
at Jameson’s prostrate form.

“It’s quite simple, really. I’ve promised
myself that the first man that asks who I could live with day
after day without killing will be honored with my acceptance.
It’s hardly my fault that your sex rarely qualifies for such
standards.”

“Well, with those standards I’m not sure
you’ll ever find the right chap. There’s not a one I’d choose to
live with.”

“So, you see. It’s quite the dilemma. Remain
a spinster or become a murderess. Perhaps one day being a
murderess will seem the better option.”

“Or perhaps one day you will meet this
paragon and sweep him off his feet.”

“There is always that possibility, highly
unlikely though it seems.”

Jameson inspected his friend of many years as
if for the first time. What did others see when they gazed at
her? It was most difficult to see someone when you’d known them
all their life. Especially when you weren’t supposed to see them
at all. A best friend’s sister is quite out of the question to
dally with.

Slate-gray eyes that sparkled and jabbed.
He’d never known them to look coquettish or shy or anything less
than determined. Black hair worn in no fashion whatsoever,
simply out of the way.

“You don’t wear frills, Amelia?”

“No, Jameson. Have you had too much sun?”

“I’m just looking. Why no frills?”

“The question should be, why frills? I would
look positively silly.”

“That doesn’t stop any other lady.”

“Is that an argument for or against my
wearing frills?”

“I’m trying to picture you in virginal white
with lacy frills cascading down your dress. I can’t seem to do
it.”

“Probably because you were not there when I
came out. I do believe that was the first and last time I wore
frills.”

“I’m sorry, Amelia. I forgot that your
come-out was cut short. Do you regret missing that heady first
year?”

Amelia glance at him with amusement. “My
come-out was not all that heady, as I recall. It did not take
long to learn what lengths men will go to acquire my wealth.”

“Your father would never have let you marry
that
sh—
”

“I’d like to think so, but the scandal he
spread about me limited the number of suitable suitors for a
time. My father might have got desperate eventually.”

Jameson sat up. “Your father would never have
sold you to the lowest bidder, my dear. I hope you remember that
about him. He loved you. And was far too lenient with you, as I
recall.”

Jameson remembered the late Lord Beckham with
fondness bordering on fanaticism. He had treated all those
around him with fairness and kindness and had welcomed Jameson
into his home and family without reservation. He had been quite
vocal on Jameson’s behalf after the death of his parents.

The late Lord Beckham had also adored his
daughter and Jameson had always thought he would treat his own
daughter the same. Definitely a handful for the man who would
eventually marry her, but Jameson had never seen anything wrong
with a little spirit.

Amelia smiled. “He never could take the strap
to me, no matter how much I deserved it.”

“And you turned out quite well without it.”

She laughed. “I think there are some who
would disagree with you, but I consider myself quite lucky. I
shudder to think that if Father hadn’t died so soon into my
first season, no doubt I would be married to a philandering
idiot with ten children by now. By the time my mourning had passed, I
had gained some sense. It pains me to think he had to die for
that lesson to be learned.”

Jameson touched her arm gently. “Your father
was the kind of man who would see his death as a small price to
pay for your happiness.”

She smiled at him. “You are a kind man,
Jameson. Sometimes you remind me of him.” She shook her head and
grinned at him. “And other times I wonder from whence you
sprang.”

He chuckled. “The feeling is mutual, my
dear dragon.”

Amelia placed her clippers in the basket and
settled next to him. “Jameson, I do believe it’s time to be seen
in society again. You can not hide forever, it is unlike you.”

He lay back down. “I’m not hiding. You
advised me, forcibly, to keep myself scarce so that Miss
Underwood could undo
the fiasco
.”

“And she has prospered. She is the girl of
the hour and I daresay she can have her pick of suitable
matches. Now you can resume your role in society. You can not
hide in my garden forever.”

“I don’t see why not. It’s very peaceful
here. And if I resume my role in society I will have silly girls
once again thrown at me. It is very tedious, Amelia. I believe
it is the sole reason I proposed to Miss Underwood in the first
place. A man’s best defense against
the mothers
is a wife.”

“I hadn’t realized you were so terrified of a
few women and their frilly daughters.”

“I said it was tedious, not terrifying. A man
can not go to his club without someone’s brother extolling her
virtues or her dowry. Or go to a ball and be required to swing
this girl and that around the dance floor. No, I will not resume
society until I am assured my name has been stricken off every
mother’s list.”

“Perhaps
the fiasco
has accomplished
that.”

He shook his head. “It will take more than
that, Amelia. The
ton
can be very forgiving when money is
involved, as you well know.”

They both knew that had she been penniless
when that shabbaroon had attempted to win a bride through lies
and threats that she’d be either married or living in the remote
countryside now. As it was, it had still taken her unbending
refusal to acknowledge the rumor and her father’s death to quell
the lingering doubts about her virtue.

She nodded. “These rumors will die down as
well. And when the time comes when you’re ready for matrimony
I’ll find you a girl you can’t flash a grin at and ride
roughshod over. You need someone with a backbone, otherwise you
are much too daunting.”

“I can’t help it that women find me hard to
resist.”

“You can’t help it that you’re a pain in
the—”

“My dear! Language. What would your mother
say.”

“She should never have let me play with you
growing up.”

“Let you? I hardly think she did. Has anyone
ever
let
you do anything? We’ve learned to
simply get out of your way.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I’m a man. It’s expected of me.”

“You’re a lunatic, that’s what you are.”

He laughed. “It is so refreshing to be in the
company of friends, my dear. Will you dine with me tonight? Cook
is making charred pheasant; I know that is your favorite.”

She laughed. “I suppose I have not wearied of
your presence yet. Will Robin be joining us?”