Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half Page 4

  He looked to his sister for an answer.

  Jiminy! When had she developed that odd twitch with her neck?

  Lady Kennell chuckled. “I’m waiting with bated breath, Mr. Hillary.”

  Just as he opened his mouth to decline her invitation, Amelia thrust her dance card at him. “Mr. Hillary, you requested a waltz earlier, did you not?”

  Amelia’s grim expression suggested a turn about the floor would be as pleasurable for her as a tooth extraction, so her actions made no sense. Then again, ladies rarely behaved in any predictable fashion in Jake’s experience.

  He latched onto her card before she could snatch it back. “I have not forgotten, Lady Audley.” He scribbled his name beside the waltz and returned her card with a smile. The corners of her lips inched upward, but he wouldn’t go so far as to classify it as a sign of contentment.

  He handed Lady Kennell’s card back, hoping she wouldn’t notice he hadn’t claimed a dance. Amelia had made her wishes known, and he would abide by them.

  The ladies huddled as they moved away.

  “I wanted to be first,” Lady Kennell complained. Amelia shushed her to no avail. “You only needed to say you fancied him, Amelia.”

  “Be silent,” Amelia hissed.

  An elated smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. Amelia did fancy him still, didn’t she?

  When he swung his attention back to his sister, she huffed. “Don’t you dare dance with that woman.”

  His smile faded. “What do you have against Lady Audley?”

  “Not her, you ninny. The other one.”

  Forest gently took Lana’s arm and aimed her toward the refreshment table. “He didn’t claim a dance, love. Calm yourself.”

  “And he shouldn’t. She is not a proper lady.”

  Forest drew her away. “Your brother can manage his affairs without your assistance. Come along.”

  When Lana shot her husband a silent warning, he simply chuckled, which earned him a full-out glower. Jake had seen that look many times. He didn’t envy Forest his evening.

  Once alone with Daniel, Jake lifted a brow—a move he had practiced in the looking glass for years in imitation of his elder brothers. “Amelia is not meant for you.”

  “So you claim.” Daniel crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Do you plan to keep both ladies for yourself?”

  He couldn’t refrain from gloating. His brother wouldn’t spare him if their positions were reversed. “How would I ever choose between the two?”

  Daniel leered. “Indeed. Well done, Jake, my boy.”

  “Tomorrow morning. Gentleman Jack’s at ten o’clock. You are overdue for a thrashing, old man.”

  “Brazen pup.”

  Jake walked away with a smile of satisfaction.

  Four

  Amelia hustled to catch up to Bibi as she stomped to the retiring room. “Please wait for me, Lady Kennell. I must speak with you.”

  Bibi didn’t break stride as she passed a group of debutantes and their chaperones returning to the ballroom. The young girls stopped and stared with wide eyes.

  “Did you see Lady Kennell’s gown?” one of them said in awe.

  “It is gorgeous,” her companion replied, before turning to speak with an older lady Amelia didn’t recognize. “Aunt Charlotte, may I go inquire after her modiste?”

  “Absolutely not, Penelope. You shan’t ever speak to that woman.”

  Aunt Charlotte’s pinched expression and haughty tone sent a fresh wave of irritation through Amelia. She halted in front of Penelope. “I’m certain Lady Kennell will be happy to recommend you to Madame Girard, Miss…?”

  “Penelope Cummings, my lady. Oh, how splendid.” The girl bubbled over with enthusiasm, her brown curls springing as she bounced on her toes. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Cummings.” Amelia held Aunt Charlotte’s gaze, daring her to speak ill of Bibi in her presence.

  “Yes, thank you, Lady Audley,” the girl’s aunt said with a touch of humility. It would be foolish to decline an offer for a personal recommendation to the coveted modiste, even if Aunt Charlotte held one of Madame Girard’s best patrons in contempt. It would be even more foolish to test the bounds of Amelia’s overtaxed patience.

  She nodded then continued on the path Bibi had taken. Her friend sat at the dressing table when she entered the otherwise empty retiring room, excluding the maid standing in the corner. “Will you excuse us a moment, please?”

  The young woman curtsied and bustled from the room.

  Bibi glared into the looking glass, opened her reticule, and yanked out a silver tin of lip rouge. Popping off the top, she dipped her little finger in the paint and applied the rose red to her lips.

  Amelia planted herself beside the dressing table with hands on her hips. “You have no cause to be angry with me, Bianca.”

  Bibi rubbed her lips together before pursing them as if blowing a kiss. She replaced the tin lid and returned the rouge to its proper home. “I am your dearest friend, Amelia, and you neglected to mention you have a soft spot for Jake Hillary.”

  “I do not.” When Bibi narrowed her eyes, Amelia repeated her claim with less conviction. “I really don’t.”

  “Then why did you shove me aside to hand Mr. Hillary your dance card?”

  “I didn’t shove you.”

  Bibi’s thin brows lifted.

  “Shoved is a bit exaggerated, would you not agree?” Heat infused Amelia’s cheeks. “I may have nudged you. A little. But it was accidental.”

  “You nudged me. A little.” Bibi smirked. “That was no accident, Amelia Audley. You are not a clumsy ox, although I’m unsure the same can be said of Mr. Hillary after his performance this evening. I believe you have your work cut out for you in the bedroom, my dear.”

  “Bibi, stop.” Amelia couldn’t look at her friend. “Mr. Hillary and me? How ludicrous.”

  “Ludicrous?” Bibi issued an audible sigh. “Simply tell me if you plan to tutor him in the bedroom or not.”

  “Of course not. And neither will you.”

  She headed toward the door, intent on returning to the ball.

  “You’re a cruel woman, Amelia. Very cruel.”

  Bibi’s sharp tone brought her to a skidding stop, and she spun around.

  “Cruel? You think I am cruel?”

  “Yes, I do.” Bibi lifted her chin and nailed her with a look that froze her in place. “It is obvious Mr. Hillary carries a torch for you. Had I known you returned his interest, I never would have considered him. But he is untried at five and twenty. Bed him, please. Because if you don’t, I will be forced to do the deed. I cannot stomach the suffering of a handsome gent.”

  Amelia’s hands fluttered to the heart pendant around her neck. “Captain Hillary has played you horribly. No gentleman retains his innocence at Jake’s age.” She reached for the door handle but turned to address Bibi once more. “And Jake Hillary has no use for me. He despises me, so rid yourself of these silly notions.”

  Bibi rolled her eyes. “Yes, darling Amelia, now run along and allow him to despise every inch of that beautiful body you possess, the one Mr. Hillary cannot take his eyes off. Ever.”

  Amelia shook her head in disbelief. Her friend had gone mad, and one could not argue with someone bound for Bedlam. “I’m returning to the ball.”

  “Don’t keep the gorgeous man waiting,” Bibi called in a singsong tone.

  Amelia pulled the door closed behind her. This evening had turned into a disaster. Not only was she making no progress with garnering support for the foundling hospital, she had thrown herself at Jake, proving herself no better than the wanton he believed her to be.

  When she reentered the ballroom aglow with hundreds of tapers, her sight landed on him whisking one of the newly presented debutantes onto the floor, a friend of Miss Cummings. Jake was taller than most, with a slender build, so he stood out in a crowd.

  Amelia’s palms grew moist inside her gloves, and she swallowed against the panic ris
ing in her throat as she watched them bow to each other. Jake’s dance partner glanced at him and giggled. While he acknowledged the young woman, he offered nothing more than a polite, albeit strained, smile.

  Amelia’s fear released its grip on her heart, but her relief was fleeting. He may have no interest in the young miss on his arm, but he might find someone to his liking this season. There were many beautiful, young innocents to vie for his notice. At some point, he would take a wife, but no amount of rational thought on the topic had prepared her for the inevitability.

  Amelia couldn’t look away as Jake joined hands with the girl and sashayed down the line of dancers. Tonight he cut a dashing figure in his gray breeches and charcoal jacket. He was handsome beyond what was fair. Instead of growing stout or developing a balding pate with age, Jake had become more pleasing to the eye.

  She had been taken with him her first season. Unfortunately, he had held a tendre for Lady Delilah, although their match had never materialized. Amelia frowned.

  Jake had much to recommend him, but she supposed a title carried more weight with some ladies. He was dashing, charming, and hailed from generations of wealthy landowners. And now he boasted a fortune of enviable proportions after the inheritance of his grandfather’s shipping company. He was a prize for any young miss wishing to make a tidy match, which only served to increase her misery. He would not remain unattached forever.

  Jake escorted his dance partner from the floor and bid her farewell. The disappointment on the girl’s face caused a sick feeling in the pit of Amelia’s stomach. Had she shown her emotions as readily at that tender age? Most importantly, could she keep her feelings hidden this evening as she waltzed with him?

  He looked around the great hall until his gaze landed on her. Her heart fluttered as he moved in her direction. Oh, please don’t giggle like a ninny.

  Jake Hillary possessed elegant good looks. His sculpted visage rivaled any work of art and rendered him much too appealing to lack experience in the bedchamber. Captain Hillary was a scoundrel to spread lies about his brother, and Bibi was a fool to believe him.

  Jake bowed when he reached her. “Lady Audley, I believe I have the next dance.”

  “Mr. Hillary.” Amelia placed her hand on his arm and sensed the tensing of his muscles. She glanced up, fearful she might discover disgust on his face, but his expression remained neutral.

  He escorted her to the floor and they took position for the waltz. His long fingers, graceful like a musician’s, closed around hers. A blend of citrus and rosemary filled the air.

  Good heavens. He smelled good enough to eat.

  As the music swelled, Jake guided her around the floor. He was an agile dancer and always had been. Amelia had often pondered this about Jake and his siblings. Every Hillary was light on his or her feet.

  “Mr. Hillary, how is it you and your siblings are all accomplished dancers?”

  His eyebrows pulled together. “Are you mocking my earlier performance with my sister?”

  “Not at all. I’ve simply noticed you exhibit a great aptitude for dance.”

  He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, giving him a boyish charm. “You have noticed? How delightful to hear. What else has come to your attention?”

  “Oh, never mind, Mr. Hillary.” She wasn’t interested in playing games of cat and mouse. Her interactions with gentlemen invariably proved an ill use of her time, and tonight was no exception. She should keep to her work with the children.

  She and Jake moved in time to the music, silent for several beats.

  “Father employed an instructor at Mother’s urging,” he said at last. “The man was relentless. You either learned to dance properly or suffered his tantrums.”

  Amelia’s mouth formed a silent oh.

  Jake’s smile slid from his face as he stared at her lips, or at least she thought that was where his sight landed. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “More than once, he stomped my toes for performing the wrong step.”

  “That’s awful, a truly appalling technique.”

  “Yet effective.” A spark of mischief lit his blue-green eyes. “I now have gained a great appreciation for the pain a lady would endure if my rather large feet trod upon her.”

  How like a gentleman to boast about the size of his feet. Amelia chuckled, the tension draining from her shoulders. Maybe they could be civil to one another if nothing else.

  His thumb moved in a gentle arc on her back and sent tingles racing through her limbs. She yearned to be held by him again, to have him kiss her like he had that night almost a year ago. Being close weakened her resolve to forget him.

  When he led her into a turn, she caught sight of Bibi dancing with Captain Hillary. Her friend flashed a ridiculously wide smile. Why, one might think she’d done something miraculous, like invented a cure for measles. Amelia looked away when Bibi tried to mouth something to her. Something about the garden?

  The music faded, but Amelia and Jake stood there holding each other’s hands. Their gazes met, something unspoken passing between them and making her tremble inside. She drew in a shuddering breath and dropped his hand before stepping from his embrace.

  “I suppose you should find your next dance partner,” she said.

  “I suppose I should.” He didn’t escort her from the floor or falter in his stare, and a flash of heat washed over her. “Amelia, there’s something I wish to tell you. Let’s find a quiet place where we will not be disturbed.”

  A shrill screech gave her a start. She whipped around to discover Bibi on the ground holding her ankle and whimpering. Captain Hillary crouched down beside her.

  Amelia raced over to her with Jake following closely behind. “Bibi, what happened? Are you all right?”

  Pain marred her pretty features. “My ankle. I twisted it.”

  Captain Hillary lifted her amid shocked gasps from the crowd gathered around them.

  Mrs. Hillary pushed through the crush, her face pinched. “Oh, dear. Bring her to the green drawing room at once, Daniel.”

  He followed his mother with Bibi cradled in his arms while Amelia and Jake trailed behind.

  Bibi peered over Captain Hillary’s broad shoulders. “Mr. Hillary, I’m afraid you cannot sign my dance card now.”

  Jake grimaced. “Perhaps another time, Lady Kennell.”

  Her head lolled back as they exited the ballroom, a tortured cry on her lips, which sounded oddly like a woman in the throes of ecstasy. Amelia’s posture grew more rigid. Now she stood no chance of winning the favor of the ladies of the ton. Not after Bibi’s outrageous behavior. But what vexed Amelia even more was her friend’s assumption that Jake wanted to dance with her.

  In the drawing room, Captain Hillary eased Bibi onto the settee where Amelia had sat with Lana earlier. He knelt at her side and reached for a slipper.

  She slapped his hand. “Don’t touch it. It hurts.”

  Captain Hillary scowled and stood. “You should remove your slipper before your foot swells too much to do so.”

  Bibi shook her skirts, covering her foot and ankle. With a sweet smile, she glanced up at the captain. “I’m certain you are correct, sir, but I cannot bare my ankle in mixed company.”

  Amelia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud. Bibi rarely exhibited such restraint, as evidenced by her scandalous performance in the ballroom.

  Mrs. Hillary fluttered around Bibi, fluffing pillows to place behind her back. “Oh, my dear Lady Kennell, I am so very sorry for your injury. Is there anything I can do for you?” Her gaze traveled the room. “Perhaps a brandy? To ease your pain, of course.”

  Bibi placed a gentle hand over Mrs. Hillary’s trembling one. “Please, don’t fret. It was my own clumsiness. All I require is rest.”

  Captain Hillary smirked. “Might I offer you an escort home?”

  Amelia’s eyes narrowed on Bibi. Was this a ploy to leave the party with the gentleman?

  Her friend shook her head. “Thank you for the kind offer, sir, but I
imagine Lady Audley would allow me the use of her carriage. Perhaps the footman could call for it now?” She held her ankle and winced.

  Oh, dear. Bibi must have truly suffered an injury to compel her to rebuff Captain Hillary’s offer. Amelia’s annoyance evaporated.

  Mrs. Hillary looked to Jake. He nodded and slipped from the room.

  “I should collect my shawl,” Amelia said and started for the door.

  “You needn’t leave the party on my account,” Bibi said.

  Amelia stopped to study her friend’s pallor. Her cheeks boasted lots of color and pain no longer clouded her eyes. She couldn’t be recovering already, could she?

  “Don’t be silly,” Amelia said. “I would not feel right about staying without you.”

  “But you haven’t spoken with Lady Eldridge or the duchess yet.”

  Nor did she expect either lady would deign to speak with her now. It was disappointing that she had been unable to secure more support this evening, but Bibi’s welfare must be considered at the moment. “I will call on Lady Eldridge and Her Grace another day. There is still time to garner support before the board makes a decision.”

  Mrs. Hillary stepped forward. “Allow me to call for your shawl, dear. It was the beautiful gold embroidered one, was it not?”

  Amelia nodded.

  Mrs. Hillary and Jake met at the double-hung oak doors. Moving aside, he allowed his mother to pass.

  “The carriage is driving up the street,” Jake announced.

  Captain Hillary swept Bibi into his arms again and carried her toward the entrance, taking care not to hit her foot on the door frame.

  Amelia followed to wait in the spacious foyer for Mrs. Hillary to return with her shawl. “I will be along in a moment,” she called after Bibi.

  Jake halted on the fringes of the room and crossed his arms, assuming a brooding silence. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, increasingly uncomfortable with his change in demeanor. What had happened between their waltz and now to make him so surly?