Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half Read online

  “N-no, don’t be silly.” Amelia attempted to laugh, but it came out strangled and transparent.

  “There is,” Bibi said in a rush of breath. “You are having an affair with him, aren’t you?”

  She bolted upright. “No! I-I’m not. We never, I mean we—”

  A wicked grin spread across Bibi’s lips. “Captain Hillary is wrong about his brother’s experience in the art of pleasing a woman. No wonder you defended Jake Hillary with such vehemence.”

  Oh, dear. This was humiliating beyond the pale. How could she explain her association with Jake without appearing a pitiable sap? Perhaps she should allow Bibi to believe she was intimately involved with him.

  What am I thinking? Bibi would then let slip something embarrassing in front of Jake, a subtle innuendo that would reveal her lie.

  “I’ve left you with a false impression, I believe. Mr. Hillary and I are not involved.” She sipped her tea, refusing to meet Bibi’s curious gaze.

  “You never were any good at falsehoods,” she said. “Remember the time Mrs. Meriwether questioned who smuggled the kitten into the dormitory?”

  “I’m sorry I gave you away. I froze when she threatened to expel us if we didn’t come forward.”

  Bibi flicked her hand. “I forgave you long ago. Besides, you tried to lay claim to the act of mercy, which would have been more in line with your character. I’m still uncertain of the reason the headmistress didn’t believe you, but it illustrates my point. You are a horrible liar.”

  “I’m telling the truth. Jake and I are not intimate.”

  “And yet his given name rolls off your tongue with ease.” Bibi crossed her arms. “Tell me the truth now, or I’ll be forced to go to Jake for answers.”

  Amelia gasped. “You cannot! I would die on the spot.”

  Her friend lifted an arched eyebrow. “Then I suggest you tell me.”

  Blasted Bibi! “Very well, but you may not laugh at my expense.” She cleared her throat. “We kissed, only once, mind you.”

  Bibi’s eyes rounded. “And you never told me? When did this happen?”

  She was certain her friend wouldn’t judge her. Bibi knew as much about being in a loveless marriage as she did, but Amelia hesitated. She had held that moment with Jake close to her heart for a year.

  Bibi clicked her tapered nails against the edge of her plate.

  Amelia took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I was in mourning. I couldn’t make it known.” She looked up at her friend, finding nothing but acceptance in Bibi’s expression and her defensive stance crumbled. “After Audley’s death, Mrs. Hillary began to send Jake by several times a week with various treats and sympathetic notes she had penned. I was taken aback by her kindness. We were hardly more than acquaintances. Yet, she reached out with more caring than people I had considered good friends.”

  Bibi had to know she wasn’t included in that group. Her dearest friend had stayed with her for days until Amelia insisted she return to her home.

  “Naturally, Jake and I spent more and more time together. At first, he would linger when he made his deliveries. Later, I invented reasons to have him stay, such as to advise me on a household task or help with my accounts.”

  Bibi rolled her eyes. “As if you need assistance with your calculations. Go on.”

  “He began to stay for meals on occasion, and sometimes our companionship continued into the evening. We would play chess or read together. One night it just happened. It seemed a natural progression of our association. He was bidding me farewell for the evening and then we were kissing.”

  Amelia’s belly flipped as she recalled the delicious feel of his lips on hers. He had tasted of cinnamon and sugar from their dessert, and her knees had quivered as he’d held her in his arms.

  “Yes? What happened next?”

  Amelia shook her head. “Nothing. He said he would call the next day, but he never did. He disappeared without a word.” Her throat grew tight and ached with unshed tears. She swallowed harshly. “I don’t know what I did to drive him away. Maybe I was too receptive to his advances. Or perhaps I—”

  Bibi slapped the table. “What makes you think you are at fault? That’s your problem, Amelia. You constantly accept blame for the failings of men. First there was your father, then your husband—followed by Jake Hillary, I now learn—and finally that scoundrel Forest.”

  It wasn’t as if Amelia had been unaware the gentlemen in her life had discarded her, but to have them cataloged as such was a blow to her person. Her bottom lip trembled, much to her despair.

  Bibi shoved from the table and hurried to her side, her skirts rustling as she rounded the table. “Please don’t cry, dearest. Those men are fools for missing the treasure you are.” She threw her arms around Amelia’s shoulders and squeezed. “That horrid Mr. Hillary. He does not deserve you.” To agree that Jake was horrid would give her no satisfaction. When he had approached her at the Eldridge ball almost a year ago, the moment had been awkward and tension-filled. Amelia had struggled with the desire to throw her arms around him, to beg him to come home with her. Thankfully, her pride had kept her from making a fool of herself, any more than she already had.

  A few tears welled up in her eyes, and she blotted them with a pastel napkin. “After our dance last evening, I’m more confused than ever. There seems to be something between us still, or it had seemed so for a fleeting moment.”

  “Pfft!” Bibi flopped into the adjacent seat. “It doesn’t take a scholar to recognize the attraction. The man practically pants after you. But don’t you dare fool yourself into thinking it’s love.”

  “But—”

  “Amelia, if love is real, why have I never seen it?” Bibi held up a finger to silence her when Amelia tried to answer. “Don’t offer your usual argument that I cannot see air either. I breathe, therefore I believe. On the other hand, I have never loved. Jake Hillary wants the same thing all men want, pleasures of the flesh. If you choose to take him to your bed, make it on your terms.”

  Bibi’s cynical view of men hadn’t always matched Amelia’s own, but perhaps her friend had a point. She had been searching for love all her life and had nothing to show for it.

  Bibi patted Amelia’s hand resting between them. “Enjoy the encounter for what it is without hanging your hopes on it becoming something more. There are many gentlemen who will be happy to step into Mr. Hillary’s boots once you tire of him.”

  Amelia balked. Tire of Jake? She couldn’t see that happening.

  “I suppose if you have no intention of falling in love,” Amelia said, “then I shall give up the search as well. I will not be content unless you are.”

  “Splendid. I knew you would come around eventually.”

  Amelia took a deep breath. Well, she wouldn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself. Maybe she and Jake had no future, but she deserved some answers to help her put their association behind her. And she would get them today.

  Six

  Jake climbed from the phaeton and signaled to the young boy who called out an offer to tend the horses. Dread crept over him as he took in Amelia’s tidy residence. The last time he had visited Verona House had been a disaster. He had never properly apologized for his atrocious behavior that day, but at this point in time, he wasn’t certain he should rehash the event.

  Perhaps he should have allowed Daniel to deliver the shawl instead.

  “The hell I should.” He snatched a bouquet of flowers from the carriage seat and marched up the stairs. Shifting the lilies and shawl to one arm, he raised his fist to bang on the door just as it flew open.

  Amelia’s high-pitched scream scared the devil out of him. He staggered, tripped over his top boots, and landed on a large potted topiary flanking the door. The blasted plant snapped and the jagged trunk poked his side.

  “Good heavens, Mr. Hillary! Are you all right?”

  “I believe so.” Righting himself, he examined the plant. Hellfire. He might be uninjured, but the tree was mangled be
yond recognition. “Perhaps it’s salvageable?” He lifted the dangling top sphere, pulled his hand away, and cringed when it flopped back. He met Amelia’s wide gaze. “My apologies for the damage. I’ll replace it.”

  She waved a dismissive hand toward the injured sentry. “It’s simply a plant, Mr. Hillary. I have warned the gardener repeatedly about it being positioned too near to the entry. Perhaps now he will listen.”

  Jake swiped at the cypress needles clinging to his jacket only to have them stick to his glove.

  “Allow me to assist.” Amelia captured his wrist and peeled the glove from his hand. Her light touch initiated a rapid beating of his pulse.

  Egads. What had he been thinking? He wasn’t broken in the least. Amelia set his body aflame simply with her nearness.

  Her blue eyes lifted to meet his. “Would you like to come inside and remove your jacket?”

  “Yes.” His voice had grown husky. Beyond her shoulder, a footman loitered inside the foyer.

  Amelia released Jake’s arm and turned to the servant. “Thank you, Thomas, but I won’t require your escort now.”

  “Yes, milady.” The man left them alone on the front stoop.

  “Please come inside, Mr. Hillary.”

  Jake swept his gaze over Amelia. She wore a lavender walking dress trimmed in yellow along with a matching bonnet. Everything she donned hinted at her curvaceous figure, the contours of which regretfully remained unexplored by him.

  “You’re on your way out,” he stated as he followed her inside and pulled the door closed behind them before removing his other glove.

  “I was.”

  “I shan’t keep you then. Mother found your shawl.” He fumbled the flowers as he tried to free the swath of gauze from his arm.

  “And the flowers? I don’t recall leaving those behind.” The sparkle in Amelia’s eyes raised his spirits. Perhaps he had done something correct for once.

  He held out the bouquet. “I saw them when passing a flower monger.”

  She accepted the offering with a chuckle. “A flower monger just happened to carry lilies in April?”

  “Well, not the first woman I passed, or the second or third.” He tugged at his cravat, which his damned valet had tied too tight again. “Did I say a flower monger? I meant the florist. You do like lilies, do you not?”

  Her grin widened. “The pink ones are my favorite. How did you know?”

  “I overheard you talking once.”

  He knew many things about Amelia, such as how much she had adored Angelica Catalani’s portrayal of Susanna in Le nozze di Figaro. How she ate every bite of dessert if the hostess served bread pudding, but she refused it if the sweet was prepared with nuts. He also knew she possessed a beautiful singing voice, but performing for others made her nauseous. He’d actually discovered that by accident.

  One evening, a few weeks after her debut, her father had implored her to sing for his guests. Jake’s heart had squeezed as she clutched her shaking hands and her voice quivered. When she rushed from the room after her performance, Jake had followed her into the garden where she lost her meal. Amelia had cried while he fought the desire to go to her for fear she would be mortified. Instead, he had waited inside the glass doors, keeping watch over her until she returned safely to the house. What if he had followed his heart that day instead of his sense of duty? Perhaps their circumstances would have been much different than they were today.

  She hugged the bouquet against her chest. “They are magnificent, Mr. Hillary.”

  Her butler stood at the room’s edge, eyeing him. Likely, the man recalled the autumn morning Jake had almost knocked the poor servant on his arse as he barged into Amelia’s home uninvited. He offered an apologetic grin, but the butler repaid his efforts with a haughty sniff.

  Amelia carried the lilies to the servant. “Please have these placed in the drawing room.”

  “Yes, milady.”

  She turned to face Jake again. “Thank you for the flowers, and for returning my shawl. Now, remove your jacket.”

  Her crisp order made him chuckle. “Yes, milady.”

  He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her. Amelia draped it over a chair standing beside an entry table then returned to stand in front of him. “You have needles on your waistcoat as well.”

  Before he could suggest removing that layer of clothing, she began plucking the greenery from his person.

  His throat grew thick and heavy. He was uncertain how much longer he could remain a gentleman with her touching him, and feared she would notice his arousal any moment.

  A small smile played upon her lips. “Mr. Hillary, would I be imposing if I requested your opinion on a matter involving the foundling home?”

  Jake jumped at the chance to shift his attention elsewhere, at least until they weren’t on display in the foyer. “I would be honored to lend my assistance.”

  “Splendid.” She linked arms and drew him toward the drawing room. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to view the plans for the new wing to see if they appear sound. The board has commissioned an architect, but I fear I can’t make heads or tails of the markings. Perhaps with your superior drafting knowledge, you could explain them to me.”

  Jake’s chest puffed up with pride. Study of architecture and drafting had been his hobbies since he was a boy of twelve. “Indeed. I am happy to assist you, Lady Audley.”

  Gliding to a desk by the window, Amelia gathered several rolled-up pages. “Please, have a seat.”

  Jake chose the settee with the hope she would sit beside him, but she lowered into an adjacent chair instead, resting the scrolls across her knees.

  “Thanks to the Mayfair Ladies’ Charitable Society, I almost have the financial support required to convince the board to move forward with the renovation. I foresee nothing to halt the project as your mother assures me she has others interested in pledging to the cause.” She frowned, a small crease marring her smooth brow. “Have you any notion the conditions the children must endure?”

  “I fear I am woefully unenlightened.”

  “The children are sleeping at least four to a bed, and those are the more fortunate ones. The older orphans have been relegated places on the floor with nothing but threadbare quilts for comfort. The donations the foundling home receives pay for the food they eat and clothe the children, but there is nothing left to improve the home itself. It’s a pitiable situation, but I am of a mind to correct it.”

  Jake smiled. How like Amelia to take up the charge for others. “I admire your dedication. I have yet to pledge my financial support, but I should like to donate to your worthy cause.”

  “Oh, Jake! Would you truly? I would be eternally grateful.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Had she meant to call him by his given name?

  “Here,” she said, holding the plans out to him. “Please, tell me your thoughts.”

  He took the rolled paper and spread it out on his lap. A quick perusal revealed sound engineering. Amelia’s addition wouldn’t fall down around her ears.

  “Mr. Brown knows what he’s about.”

  She leaned forward to peer at the draft. “How many windows has he incorporated? I cannot tell what is window and what is wall.”

  “There are four along this wall.” He pointed to the lines indicating openings. “And four on the opposite wall.”

  She craned her neck. “Where exactly?”

  “Come here so I might point them out better.”

  Amelia rose from the chair and settled beside him on the settee. Their heads bowed together over the plans. Her floral perfume was sweet and clean, and it brought to mind a clear summer sky as blue as her eyes.

  Jake touched the places on the paper where windows would be. “Here. Here. Here. And here.”

  Her hand brushed his as she ran her finger over the places he pointed out. Pleasing tingles raced along his skin.

  “It’s exactly as I had hoped,” she said. “I wish to create a cheerful place for the children, a haven fro
m London’s cruel streets.”

  Jake nodded, enamored with the way her face softened as she spoke of her aims. “You have a way of cheering up any place, Mia.”

  Her cheeks flushed a rosy hue. “Mr. Hillary, it is fortuitous that you came here—”

  A loud rap on the outer door caused them both to startle.

  “Good heavens,” she muttered. “Now who is calling?”

  The butler passed the drawing room door as he walked to the front entrance, his spine rigid and his upper lip stiff. The man truly lacked any lightness of character. From their position in the drawing room, neither Amelia nor Jake could view the caller.

  “Please inform Lady Audley that Captain Hillary wishes an audience.” His brother’s boisterous voice echoed in the foyer.

  Hot anger shot through Jake. He should have known his damned brother wouldn’t keep his word to stay away from Amelia.

  ***

  Amelia’s heart raced when Jake scooted closer to her on the settee. Bibi was wrong. What passed between them was more than lust. They shared a kinship she had never experienced with another gentleman. After his arrival with flowers, she felt certain his aim was to court her.

  She gazed warily toward the door. Bradford appeared in the threshold and threw her a questioning look. She could deny the captain an audience, but it would be awkward explaining her refusal to Jake.

  She gave a quick nod to grant permission before Bradford moved aside and directed the captain into the drawing room with a sweep of his hand. The gentleman’s stride was a cross between a swagger and a march, commanding as he invaded her quaint living quarters. She had a brief vision of him onboard his ship.

  “Jake, I expected you would have departed by now,” the captain said.

  Sitting as close as she was to Jake, she sensed the tremor flowing through his body. She stole a glance at him. The murderous glint in his eyes made her breath hitch.

  She touched Jake’s forearm to soothe him, and his gaze snapped to her. Offering a tentative smile, she prayed the men wouldn’t come to blows. If Captain Hillary injured Jake, she would never forgive the brute, and Jake might come out on the losing end, given his brother outweighed him by a stone at least.