Gambling for the Governess: A Victorian Romance (The Seven Curses of London Book 9)

by Lana Williams

  She shook her head though his words touched her. “You would’ve found your way back to each other sooner or later.”

  “So modest.” He kissed her before she could brace herself against the onslaught of emotions his touch brought.

  His tongue swept her mouth, demanding a response. His warm hands roamed over her, filling her with need.

  She held him tight then tangled her fingers in the soft hair that brushed his collar before moving to the strong column of his neck. The feel of his whiskers along his jaw added to her desire.

  “Amelia.” He kissed her cheek then down her neck before taking her lips once more before he drew back. “What would I do without you?”

  His question had her easing away. “Christopher.” Words failed her. How could she possibly say what needed to be said?

  His smile dimmed. “Why is there still worry in your eyes? You’re safe. The children are safe. All is well”

  “Yes. It is.” Except for our future, she wanted to say. The truth was so clear now. Why hadn’t she seen it before?

  “There’s something you should know,” he said quietly.

  “Oh?” Her heart thudded painfully. He’d realized it as well. Why didn’t that make her feel any better?

  He gently cradled her cheek with his hand, his other holding her waist. “I love you. I adore everything about you. Your strength and courage. Your empathy and kindness. Your beauty. And most of all,” he moved his hand to press against the top of her breast, “your heart.”

  His words brought more tears and a lump to her throat. He was confusing gratitude with love. Didn’t he realize that?

  “I love you, darling.” He said it again as if understanding that she needed to hear it once more.

  His words changed nothing and everything.

  “I love you as well.” She released him to wipe at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “More than you’ll ever know. You are what every man should strive to be. Brave. Protective. Patient. Loving.”

  “I’m pleased to hear you say that.” He stepped back to drop to his knee. “Amelia Tippin, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She placed her hands over her face as sobs wracked her body, unable to explain how impossible his proposal was.

  He stood quickly to wrap her into his arms. “Why are you crying, my sweet? What’s wrong?”

  She drew a shuddering breath, hoping to gather her emotions so she could explain. “I truly love you so very much.”

  He frowned, a hint of worry darkening his green eyes. “Why do I feel as if there is a refusal on the tip of your tongue?”

  “I was a maid at the academy.”

  “Yes, I remember. You told me that.”

  “You can’t possibly marry a maid.”

  “I’m not. I’m marrying you.”

  He said it as if it were already decided. That had her taking a step back as fear tightened the knot in her stomach. “I’m a governess.”

  Christopher stepped closer. “Not for long. I’m afraid we’ll have to find a replacement, though I hope you’ll continue to be involved with the children.”

  She took another step back, the back of her legs bumping into the low back of the settee. “My father was only a knight. I don’t belong in your world.”

  He drew closer until the warmth of his body was pressed along her entire length. “Is that what this is about?” He used the pad of his thumb to gently brush away a tear as his gaze searched hers. “You don’t want to attend a ball?”

  Even the thought of that had her drawing a shaky breath. “I don’t want to embarrass you. When people discover my background, they’ll treat you differently.”

  “Amelia?” He leaned close, his lips only a breath away from hers, causing her heart to lurch. “I love you. I would be proud to call you mine. You could never embarrass me. In fact, I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone I know.”

  Nerves quivered at the thought. She couldn’t imagine such a moment going well.

  Then he slowly closed the narrow gap between them, his lips gentle on hers, coaxing her to respond until flames licked along her flesh. His knee edged between hers, his body hard against hers, sending pulses through her as heat pooled low in her belly.

  He held her tight then turned to roll over the back of the settee and land on the cushions with her stretched on top of him.

  “Christopher,” she said with a gasp.

  “Yes, my love?” He kissed her neck, nibbling gently here and there until she couldn’t think.

  Her breasts tightened as the liquid heat inside her spread. She tried to gather her thoughts and remember why this wouldn’t work, but how could she when he made her feel like this? Longing and need tangled inside her.

  “I love you.” Her heart spoke for her, and she kissed him with all of the powerful emotions burning within her.

  He moaned with need, and the heat built higher. His hands sculpted her bottom, making her aware of the hard ridge of his body.

  She shifted against him, loving his hardness against her softness. Then he broke the kiss to draw a breath.

  “I believe I’m still waiting for an answer,” he whispered as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Actually, I do.” His green eyes flickered gold in the firelight. “I’m touched that you’re so concerned, but I know what I’m doing. Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then say you’ll marry me.”

  “I’ll marry you.” The words came out in a whoosh of longing and need and a rush of tears before she could stop them. A desperate hope spiraled through her. But her worry remained.

  His grin eased her concern for the moment. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.” He shifted her to sit beside him. “We have plans to make, starting with calling on your mother tomorrow.” He brought her hand to his lips. “I can’t wait to tell the children.”

  She smiled as happiness nudged aside the worry, at least for the moment. If only she could keep it there.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “And now, we must turn our attention to one final curse—the Waste of Charity.”

  ~The Seven Curses of London

  “This is going to be a disaster.” Amelia smoothed the rich rose silk of her gown with trembling hands as she studied her appearance in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a stranger with an elegantly upswept coif and stunning gown. Only the worry in her blue eyes was familiar.

  “Nonsense. You look beautiful.” The Countess of Westering joined her in the reflection. “The color and design are perfect. Beaumont won’t be able to keep his eyes from you. Besides, none of my parties are ever a disaster.”

  Her remark made Amelia smile just as Amelia suspected she meant it to.

  The past week had been a whirlwind. She and Christopher had called on her mother, and Christopher had formally asked for her hand, much to her mother’s delight. Next, they’d told the children, who’d been beside themselves with excitement. The earl had nodded, saying “Of course, you’ll marry just as I knew all along.”

  Lady Beaumont had offered her sincere congratulations. She’d warmed considerably since Amelia had helped to rescue Christopher, but even more so since the confrontation with Connolly. Miss Singh had smiled politely but said little else.

  How ridiculous was it that her reaction lingered in Amelia’s mind?

  “The gown is lovely,” Amelia said, despite the nerves fluttering inside her. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done to help us.”

  Amelia and her mother had moved in with the countess several days ago. Since then, they’d had fittings and gone shopping and helped with preparations for this evening’s ball. Everything was happening so quickly. She hadn’t had time to think.

  “Then relax and enjoy the evening.” When Amelia started to protest, the countess raised a finger and wagged it back and forth. “No one will know this is your first ball or about your backg
round. And if they learn the truth, they’ll still be happy for you.”

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  The countess turned Amelia to face her. “It only matters what you believe, darling. You and Beaumont. From what I’ve seen, you’ve made him very happy.”

  “People will think ill of me. They’ll say I’m reaching, and that will reflect poorly on Christopher.”

  “If they find out, which is unlikely, they might think that. But it will only reflect badly on him if you hang your head in shame.” She pressed a finger beneath Amelia’s chin. “Hold your head high, be yourself, and no one will dare to say a word.”

  Amelia nodded, hoping she could do just that. She wanted to believe she deserved Christopher’s love.

  The countess squeezed Amelia’s hand. “I have no idea why this doubt fills you, but times have changed. These things matter less and less. Only a few months ago, I hosted a gathering for a lovely young lady not so different from you. Ruby had similar concerns, but I’m pleased to tell you that she’s now happily married to Gideon de Wolfe and her worries were for naught. Have faith that love can conquer all, including your apprehension.”

  Her words filled Amelia with a warmth she couldn’t deny, bringing a smile to her lips. “You’re right. If Christopher isn’t concerned, why should I worry what anyone else thinks?”

  “That’s better. Now let us see how your mother is faring.”

  Amelia took one last glance at the mirror, drew a deep breath, then followed the countess to the bedroom across the hall where her mother waited.

  “Mother, you look beautiful,” Amelia said as she took her mother’s gloved hands in her own.

  “So do you, dear. I must say that I feel like a queen,” her mother said with a girlish giggle. Her emerald green gown flattered her coloring and slender figure and her expression glowed with happiness.

  The countess clapped her hands. “I’m so pleased. Both of you are a delight.”

  Soon, they were standing in the receiving line to greet the guests. The countess introduced Amelia and her mother as friends of the family. After the first few introductions were complete and everyone was friendly, Amelia began to relax.

  Her mother acted as if she attended such events on a regular basis, amazing Amelia with her grace, quite different from the flighty woman of recent years.

  When Christopher arrived, looking so handsome in his black evening attire, everything else fell away. He lifted her gloved hand to his lips, his focus solely on her. “You are absolutely beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive.” He greeted her mother and the countess as well as her husband then asked, “Do you mind if I steal Amelia away for a moment?”

  The countess chuckled. “Not at all. Enjoy.”

  Christopher tucked her hand under his arm as he escorted her into the ballroom where a quartet warmed up. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

  The heat in his eyes sparked her desire. “I look forward to that as well." She tightened her hold on his arm, her heart thrumming. "How are Charlotte and Ronald? I miss them.”

  “They miss you, too. I promised them we’d find a new governess soon. Ronald suggested that my father conduct the interviewing again.”

  Amelia laughed. “Apparently, he has an instinct for it. Do I get to help?”

  “Of course. We wouldn’t decide without you.”

  The room quickly filled with guests, several approaching Christopher, who introduced them to Amelia. She couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t introduce her as his fiancée. Though it concerned her, she trusted him just as she’d told him in his library when he’d proposed. She had nothing to worry about. She need only look at his expression to be reassured.

  Viscount Rutland arrived and introduced her to his wife, Lady Dalia Rutland. Amelia liked her immediately. Lady Beaumont and Miss Singh joined them. When the Duke and Duchess of Burbridge arrived, Amelia hardly knew what to say. Their easy friendliness and obvious affection for Christopher eased the moment, and soon she was enjoying herself again.

  “Shall I fetch us something to drink?” Christopher asked.

  Amelia wanted to say no to keep him at her side. But she remembered the countess’s words and smiled. “Yes, please.”

  “He adores you,” Lady Rutland whispered after he’d walked away. “It’s delightful to watch.”

  Amelia chuckled even as her cheeks heated. “I adore him as well,” she whispered back.

  Lady Rutland turned away to say something to the duchess, and Miss Singh drew closer.

  “I find it odd that the viscount hasn’t introduced you as his fiancée, don’t you?” She frowned as if pondering her own question. “I don’t think he’s told anyone except the immediate family. Is that some sort of English custom?” Her quiet tone didn’t draw anyone else’s attention, much to Amelia’s relief.

  Amelia swallowed hard, willing away the doubt that resurfaced at the woman’s words. “There’s no rush for an announcement.” Though her response sounded weak even to her own ears, she had no answer. Not when she’d been worrying about the same thing.

  “Hmm. One has to wonder that he’s changed his mind.” Miss Singh looked her up and down, her frown suggesting she found Amelia lacking. “Perhaps it has to do with you having been a maid.” She spoke the last sentence loudly enough that the others nearby turned to stare.

  Embarrassment froze Amelia in place.

  Lady Rutland turned to face her even as the duchess’s eyes narrowed. “Is that true?” Lady Rutland asked.

  Lady Beaumont moved close to Miss Singh, her lips tightening with disapproval. “Priya, what are you about?”

  “By chance, I visited with Lady Samson’s governess yesterday, who graduated from the Beasley Governess Academy, a Miss Elizabeth Trunch.” She glared at Amelia. “I believe the two of you are acquainted. She mentioned that Millie was a maid there for over two years. Not a student.”

  Amelia couldn’t breathe as she saw the questions in the eyes of the people surrounding her. She clenched her hands into fists, wishing with all of her being that this wasn’t happening. That Christopher wouldn’t be subject to the gossip and ridicule from his peers that would surely follow Miss Singh’s announcement.

  “A maid?” Lady Rutland reached out to pat Amelia’s arm as if to show her support. “How interesting.”

  The Duchess of Burbridge studied Miss Singh for a long moment. “If we allow ourselves to be defined solely by our past, how will we learn and grow?” Her gaze shifted to Amelia. “I, for one, should like to hear the circumstances behind it if you’re willing to share them.”

  Amelia was shocked by the support the two ladies displayed, especially considering they’d just met her.

  “Quite.” The duke took his wife’s hand. “Who among us doesn’t have a situation or two in our past that we’d prefer to keep to ourselves?”

  Viscount Rutland smiled, sharing a long look with his wife, who blushed as she chuckled. “One or two, perhaps,” he said, and she nodded in agreement.

  “One or two what?” Christopher asked as he arrived and handed Amelia a glass of lemonade.

  “Miss Singh took it upon herself to share some of Miss Tippin’s background,” Lady Beaumont said. “Priya, I think it best if you leave now. Such behavior isn’t welcome.”

  “But her father was only a knight. I—”

  Their conversation faded as Lady Beaumont took Miss Singh’s arm and led her away. Amelia took a sip to ease her dry throat before forcing herself to meet Christopher’s gaze, hoping he wasn’t disappointed that his friends knew the truth about her. Was he waiting to share their engagement until after he’d been able to tell them who she really was?

  The gentle smile on his lips and the love in his eyes wiped away her concern. Maybe the countess was right—love conquered everything.

  “Miss Tippin’s experiences have made her unique,” he said as he continued to hold her gaze. “You might find her recent adventures far more interesting than the time she spent
with her aunt at the governess academy. She single-handedly saved not only my life but that of my niece and nephew.”

  “Oh my!” The duchess reached out to touch Amelia’s arm. “I would love to hear that story.”

  Amelia shook her head as she smiled. “Beaumont is exaggerating. It wasn’t like that.”

  Christopher raised a brow at Rutland. “I believe you can attest to the truth of my statement.”

  “I certainly can,” Rutland agreed as he smiled at Amelia.

  Her heart flooded with joy. To think these lovely people didn’t think any less of her removed a weight from her shoulders, making her feel as light as air.

  “I’m afraid the stories will have to wait for another time,” Christopher said as he took her lemonade and handed it to a passing footman. “May I have this dance?”

  “Of course.” Excitement and nerves fluttered in her middle. This was a moment she’d dreamed of but never thought possible.

  The waltz was the perfect first dance as it allowed her to hold onto him, taking courage from the love in his eyes. They glided across the floor, her heart singing. She held the moment tight to her, wanting to always remember it.

  When the song ended, Christopher paused, still holding her hand with his other on her waist.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too. So much.”

  “Amelia?” If she didn’t know better, she’d think him nervous.

  “Yes?” They were now the only couple on the dance floor and it seemed everyone was staring. Shouldn’t the next song be starting?

  He dropped to his knee once again, holding her hand in both of his. “Will you marry me?”

  Her heart thundered as tears filled her eyes. She pressed her free hand to her mouth to try to hold back her emotions. “Yes. Yes, I would love to.”

  The crowd gathered around them, applauding as Christopher rose and reached into his waistcoat pocket to withdraw a beautiful diamond ring. “This was my mother’s,” he said as he held it out. “I would like you to have it.”

  “It’s lovely. I’d be honored to wear it.” Her gaze met his as love overflowed her entire being. “You already asked me, and I already said yes. Did you forget?”