by Rose Pearson
Smiling at her, Oliver felt a heavy stab of guilt pierce his head, threatening to steal every single modicum of happiness battling for dominance within him. “But of course,” he murmured, stepping forward and inclining his head towards Lady Smithton. “We are to return, Lady Smithton,” he said by way of explanation. “It has been a little bit of a trying afternoon, and I believe we both might benefit from a restorative of some point.”
“Tea, and perhaps whisky for Lord Montague,” he heard Lady Amelia say, laughing as Lady Smithton’s eyes narrowed just a fraction as she looked at him.
“But of course,” Lady Smithton murmured, as they drew closer. “And mayhap you will explain precisely what occurred, Lady Amelia? It did seem to be an unfortunate incident.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “It was, yes, but I believe it will not be repeated by Lord Chadderfield or Lady Alexandra,” he said, feeling Lady Amelia squeeze his arm gently by way of thanks. “There is nothing particular to explain save to say Lady Alexandra and Lord Chadderfield thought they would be able to speak cruelly towards Lady Amelia, without any consideration for her. That way of thinking has been entirely removed from them now, I hope.”
“I shall tell you everything the moment we are seated,” Lady Amelia said, her voice filled with both relief and a touch of happiness. “But I will say this, Lady Smithton. Lord Montague stood up for me with such defiance and determination that I feel as though I owe him a great debt.”
Lady Smithton looked surprised, coming to walk alongside Lady Amelia and glancing up at Oliver, who gave her a small, cursory smile before turning his gaze away.
“Is that so?” he heard Lady Smithton say, feeling a slight twinge of anxiety in his heart that she might, somehow, discover the truth behind his courtship of Lady Amelia. “Then I must admit I am a little surprised.”
Oliver looked at Lady Smithton again, registering the considering look in her eyes as she watched him.
“But I am also grateful,” she finished with a tiny smile in his direction, which Oliver grasped at without hesitation. “Thank you, Lord Montague, for what you did to protect Lady Amelia.”
His guilt began to weigh down on his shoulders all the more as he nodded, smiled, and continued to walk towards the carriage without a word. He was more guilty of cruelty than either Lady Smithton or Lady Amelia knew, and yet here he was, pretending he was somehow better than Lord Chadderfield. His heart grew heavy, his shoulders slumping just a little. Lady Amelia would feel more pain and more sorrow over his betrayal, which was still to come, and then what would he do? Would he truly be content to walk away, to leave her with her pain and her humiliation? To leave her in the deepest darkness, lost in a fog of confusion and distress? Closing his eyes for a moment, Oliver let out a shuddering breath, feeling his heart begin to ache terribly. This was never once what he had intended when it came to Lady Amelia. To be forced into agreeing to a wager was one thing, but to be slowly trying to work his way into Lady Amelia’s heart was quite another.
But he could see no way out. If he did not do as Lord Davidson demanded, then he would face the wrath of Lord Thornhill. But to continue with the bet would be to break Lady Amelia’s spirit in a way more dreadful and more terrible than anything the ton had thus far been able to do.
Was he truly that cruel? That cold-hearted? Oliver could not answer such questions, feeling utterly wretched as he handed up Lady Amelia and then Lady Smithton into the carriage. He was quite broken, lost in confusion and fear and with no one to speak to, no one to turn to save for his troubled mind.
Chapter Ten
Amelia sighed contentedly to herself as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was doing her level best to appear just as presentable as she could, but whilst the gown and the dressing of her hair were quite lovely, it could not account for the sparkle in her eyes.
That, she knew, came from her acquaintance with Lord Montague and the gentle care and consideration he had shown her over the last fortnight. When she had been presented with the cruelty of Lord Chadderfield and Lady Alexandra some days ago, he had been right by her side, refusing to allow them to continue their harsh, shaming words. She had been quite overcome by his determination to defend her, by his sheer force of will when it came to seeking and demanding an apology for her. In the days that followed, she and Lady Smithton had spoken often about what had occurred, with Mrs. Peters interjecting her thoughts on the matter, and on Lord Montague also.
It was very confusing, indeed. The more time she spent with Lord Montague, the more she found herself considering him in a very agreeable light. And thus, she found herself faced with the very same problem as before. Her regard for Lord Montague was growing so very steadily that she found herself almost desperate to be in his company. He called on her every day, and they had dined together three times—although with other guests also, of course. There had been a friendship struck up between them unlike anything she had ever experienced. Lord Montague was utterly charming, and she often found herself blushing at his compliments. Of course, she knew this might very well come from his plentiful experience when it came to encouraging a lady’s attention, but she also knew he had not sought to court any of the other young ladies he had set his eyes on. She was the only one thus far he had sought out in that way.
“You look quite lovely, Lady Amelia.”
Tugged out of her thoughts, Amelia turned to see Mrs. Peters standing in the doorway, looking at her affectionately.
“I thank you,” she murmured, looking down at her gown and running her hands down the front of it. It was a deeper green than she had ever worn before, but the seamstress had been quite determined that this was the color Amelia should wear. Yes, it was darker than other debutantes might wear, but it would be striking, she had said. It would make people notice her, make them see the beauty of her eyes and face.
Amelia had not cared what the ton would think of her gown, nor what they would think of her eyes. Instead, she had found herself thinking only of Lord Montague, wondering what his reaction would be to her appearance and praying it would be a favorable one.
“You will catch his attention, Lady Amelia, have no fear about that.”
Amelia blushed furiously, walking towards Mrs. Peters carefully, trying to ignore the pain in her leg but being grateful for Mrs. Peters supporting arm, which was offered the moment she reached her companion. “Lord Montague’s attentions give me a great deal of courage,” she told Mrs. Peters as they made their way to the staircase. “And much more boldness, might I say. I was always so very aware of the ton’s watchful eye, how they would stare at me and whisper about me without hesitation.”
“And now?” Mrs. Peters asked as they began to descend. “Lord Montague has encouraged you not to think of the beau monde in such a way?”
Amelia hesitated, walking carefully down the staircase and trying to ignore the stabbing pain that came with each step. “I—I do not think he has explicitly encouraged me to do so, no,” she answered, letting out a breath of relief as she reached the bottom of the staircase, glad for the footman who stepped forward to take her arm so as to steady her. “But his very presence has encouraged me to do so. The fact that he does not look down on me and has come to my defense already makes me feel as though I ought not to care one jot about what the beau monde might think of me. He is quite right to state that my limp has no bearing on my character. It is the beau monde who is at fault for considering me in such an ill light, not my own.”
“Of course it is not your fault!” Mrs. Peters exclaimed, looking up at Amelia in horror. “You cannot for a moment think that.”
“I have, for a long time,” Amelia admitted, quietly. “I felt as though my limp was a consequence of disobeying both my father and my governess and I should bear the shame and humiliation that came from the ton without complaint. I have found their cruelty almost unbearable, fearing I would be without friends and without a single suitor. I feared I would be left as a spinster, battling through the years alone. And
then, you introduced me to Lady Smithton.” She smiled at Mrs. Peters before accepting the hand of yet another footman as he helped her up into the carriage. “If it had not been for you, Mrs. Peters, I do not think I should ever have found myself in such a happy position as I do now. Lady Smithton was the very first to encourage me, to come alongside me and to help protect me from the viciousness of those about me. Lord Montague has continued that in his way, and I have found his attentions to be both a wonder and an encouragement to my spirits.”
Mrs. Peters nodded slowly as she sat opposite Amelia, her face hidden in shadow as the carriage rolled away.
“I see,” she murmured in a contemplative voice. “And what think you of Lord Montague now, Lady Amelia?” There was a short pause, a moment of hesitation. “I know you think very well of him now and I must ask—”
“I want to believe Lord Montague is everything he appears to be,” Amelia interrupted, wanting to be honest with her companion but still refusing to admit to Mrs. Peters the truth about what she felt for him. “He is charming, kind, helpful, determined, and more than considerate of me. In that regard, I find him to be…” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words to express how she felt. The carriage rolled on in silence, leaving Amelia rattling through her mind in an attempt to tell Mrs. Peters as much as she could without revealing her heart. “I find he is very amiable indeed,” she finished lamely, knowing this was not the truth of the matter but feeling as though this was the correct thing to say. “I want to be in his company very often and truly enjoy every moment we are together.”
“That is to be expected,” Mrs. Peters answered with her voice still filled with a little uncertainty. “He has been very kind to you, and I will admit has impressed me with his behavior. There has never been a single moment when he has attempted to pull you from either myself or Lady Smithton.”
“No,” Amelia agreed, softly. “There has not.”
“But that does not mean you should not remain on your guard,” Mrs. Peters replied swiftly. “There may be more here than you know.”
Amelia bristled, her sudden determination to defend Lord Montague surprising her with just how swiftly it filled her. “Or there might be nothing to your concerns, Mrs. Peters. It may be that, for whatever reason, he has changed his ways and decided I am worth his time. Mayhap he has seen society in the same way I have and has realized just how cruel it can be.”
Silence met her words as Amelia subsided back into her seat, the fierceness of her determination washing away from her fairly quickly. She had surprised Mrs. Peters, she knew, but she had also astonished herself. Did she truly feel that strongly about Lord Montague? Did she honestly believe there was nothing but good in him now and that all the rumors and behaviors of the past had gone from him in a single moment?
Why should I not believe it? she asked herself, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap. I have had nothing but kindness from him. He has defended me and treated me with such consideration that I could not help but think well of him. Neither has he ever attempted to encourage me to behave improperly, as Lady Smithton feared he might. Little wonder, then, that I wish to defend him!
“Just tread carefully, Lady Amelia,” Mrs. Peters said quietly as the carriage drew up to Viscount Harrington’s townhouse, where this evening’s ball was to be held. “Recall how, only a fortnight ago, you were afraid he might prove to be nothing more than a cad. Do not give up that wariness entirely.”
Amelia did not reply, turning her head away and looking towards the door expectantly. Suddenly, she wanted to flee from the carriage, wanted to escape from Mrs. Peters and her pertinent remarks. She was happy, she realized. Happy for the very first time, given how society had treated her. Lord Montague had brought that into her life, had stood by her side and had brought her up out of her shame and her embarrassment to prove to her that not everyone saw only her limp and nothing more. Even the pain in her leg had seemed to lessen over the last few days as though his presence alone had brought a partial healing to her. And now that she had found such happiness, Amelia did not want anything to take it from her, did not want it to be stolen away by doubt or fear. Could she not trust he felt everything he said? He stated he saw her as he did every other young lady, that he found her strength and courage to be more than admirable. When he smiled at her, she found warmth and contentment in his eyes. Was she to mar that with an expectation that he would turn out to be nothing but a cad? Everything in her rebelled against the idea, perhaps fearing that if she began to question him, then she might never again be given the opportunity to be courted by another gentleman. Even though Lady Smithton had introduced her to other gentlemen who had been amicable and very welcoming, none had made any attempt to pursue her further. Just because she was being courted by Lord Montague did not mean other gentlemen could not seek her interest, but none had done so. That was not Lady Smithton’s fault, of course, but Amelia could not pretend there were others who might seek her out should Lord Montague prove to be false in his supposed attentions.
“Here we are, then.” Mrs. Peters sounded slightly strained, but Amelia did not allow herself to feel any regret for how sharply she had spoken. To her own mind, she was justified entirely in speaking as she had done, and it was with relief that she stepped out of the carriage and made her way slowly into Lord Harrington’s townhouse.
“You waltz very well, indeed, Lady Amelia.”
Amelia knew she was blushing, but she did not drop her gaze nor look away from Lord Montague, feeling very aware of the scrutiny that came from the others watching her. She had not danced at all as yet, which made this her very first foray onto the floor.
“I think you are doing well to support me,” she answered honestly. “I know I must be a little less nimble than some of your other partners, Lord Montague.”
He smiled, his eyes twinkling down at her. “That is where you are quite mistaken, Lady Amelia,” he answered, making sure to keep the middle of the dance floor where they might move about more carefully and were less inclined to be knocked into by another couple. “You think much too little of yourself.”
Feeling her cheeks heat a little more at his compliment, Amelia looked away, unable to keep his gaze and finding the emotions flickering in his eyes to be a bit too intense for her heart. She was no longer afraid of what the ton thought of her, not when Lord Montague had her in his arms. She was safe here, protected. No one would dare say anything to her when he was with her. News of how he had spoken to Lord Chadderfield had, of course, been threaded through all of society and now no one dared draw near her and speak in a similarly mocking or condescending manner—and for that, she was truly grateful.
As it has been with Lady Smithton, said a small voice in her head, reminding her Lady Smithton had been the first to come to her aid, had been the very first to step out with her into society, shielding her from the very worst of the ton. Amelia felt a twinge of shame, knowing she was being a trifle ungrateful and inconsiderate herself when it came to considering Lord Montague and not holding Lady Smithton in the same light.
“You look troubled,” Lord Montague commented, appearing a little concerned as the dance came to an end. He bowed, still holding onto her hand, whilst she curtsied—and immediately felt a twinge of pain in her leg. “Does your leg pain you?”
“A little,” Amelia replied honestly, having no inclination to hide such a thing from him. “But it is nothing.”
“Here,” he said, stepping forward and offering her his arm. “Allow me to return you to Mrs. Peters.”
Amelia nodded, accepting his arm gratefully, leaning on him a little more as her leg grew weary. She needed to sit down and rest, and somehow, Lord Montague seemed to be aware of that without her informing him of such a thing, for he took her directly to a chair and helped her to sit down carefully.
“I cannot see Mrs. Peters nor Lady Smithton,” he murmured, looking a trifle concerned. “Mrs. Peters was here but a few minutes ago, was she not?”
Amelia nodded, having to admit she was a little surprised to see Mrs. Peters was not exactly where Amelia had left her. Mrs. Peters never strayed from Amelia’s side, which meant it was very odd indeed to see no sight of her now.
“I—I would go in search of her,” Lord Montague said, looking a little awkward, “but I do not want to leave you here alone, Lady Amelia.”
Amelia smiled up at him, grateful for his concern. “I shall be quite all right,” she said, knowing she needed to rest for a few minutes longer. “I know everyone will be looking at me and discussing my dancing, but I shall simply sit here quietly.”
He shook his head, his eyes flickering. “You do not need to even consider what any other gentleman or lady here thinks of you, my dear Lady Amelia,” he said firmly, bringing a warmth to her heart with his sweetness. “You were quite delightful, and I feel greatly honored in taking you to the dance floor.”
She smiled, her heart aching with a furious affection that seemed to course all through her. “You are very kind, Lord Montague,” she murmured, wondering just how she was ever to express to Lady Smithton or to Mrs. Peters the truth of what she now felt for Lord Montague. “But I fear I cannot help you when it comes to seeking out Mrs. Peters, for I have very little idea as to where she might have gone.”
“It is most unusual,” Lord Montague agreed, his brows lowering and a slight irritation playing about his mouth. “Perhaps she has just gone in search of some refreshments.” Seeming to make up his mind, he nodded and set his shoulders. “I will wait with you for a few minutes, in the hope that she will return with all swiftness.”
However, the few minutes they waited did not produce the results Amelia had expected. Mrs. Peters did not appear, and as hard as both she and Lord Montague looked about the room, neither of them could see either Mrs. Peters or Lady Smithton. It was most unusual, and Amelia began to feel a trifle anxious. Surely Mrs. Peters would not have left the ballroom, upset by what Amelia had said to her on the way to the ball? Yes, she had spoken honestly and with a good deal more harshness than she had intended, but there had been nothing within her speech that could have injured Mrs. Peters in a dreadful fashion. So where, then, had she gone?
