Not Forgotten

Home > Other > Not Forgotten > Page 5
Not Forgotten Page 5

by Elizabeth Johns


  “If one of his soldiers was thus late, he would be given slop duty, Captain Frome said, coming forward to greet her, looking dashing in his Regimentals.

  “I did not know you were joining us!” Amelia said, holding out her hand to him.

  “London was not the same without you, my dear.”

  She gave him a look of doubt. “I am certain it has lost no time in speculating on my leaving, however.”

  He conceded her point with an incline of his head.

  “Shall we go?” Wellington encouraged as the butler opened the door.

  “I think we are forgetting someone,” Waverley remarked. Amelia turned to see another gentleman she had not noticed before, standing behind them.

  “Lady Amelia, we meet again,” he said jovially, stepping forward to bow to her.

  “Captain Elliot?”

  Chapter 5

  This assignment would see him dead, he was convinced, from the moment he saw Lady Amelia walk down the stairs. She was even more striking with her dark red locks than her renowned aunt, and every eye in Paris would be upon her wherever she went. It was like that with beauty, especially when combined with a disposition that was not quite like that of her sister, but that made your heart sing loud tunes.

  Despite his years of training to be unaffected, he could feel his reaction to her. His blood was rushing through his veins, and some kind of feeling akin to drunken happiness swept over him. She would assuredly be the death of him if he could not control himself—and Wellington wanted him to be her nursemaid? This would never do. True enough, he had worked with other beautiful women while on assignments, but she was different. He did not know why, but he did not like it. Philip knew he was not marriageable material, yet he could not carry on a simple flirtation either. There was nothing but hell and damnation in his future—and Lady Amelia was too closely related to Waverley.

  Amelia did not even notice him when she came down the stairs. Trust Frome to steal her attention, he thought unfairly, but he knew James was as big a flirt as he was himself.

  By Jove, she was more breathtaking the closer she came! She only looked amused by James’s machinations, and did not appear to be taking him seriously. Was she already so jaded by one Season? By all accounts, she had received several marriage proposals from the biggest catches on the market. Waverley had even said she had run away from Wadsworth’s attempt to force her hand. Philip was becoming more intrigued by the moment—another bad omen for him. Once he was put on a trail, he had an impossible time abandoning it.

  Waverley pointed him out, curse him. Philip was enjoying his observations. Nevertheless, he stepped forward.

  “Lady Amelia, we meet again.”

  “Captain Elliot?” She looked at him as though she had seen a ghost. Had they not told her he was alive? Not that he had spent much time with her to leave much of an impression. His recollection was of her beauty, but also her youth and innocence. She had lost some of that innocence, upon closer inspection, no longer looking at the world in awe. Instead of continuing to stand foolishly, staring awkwardly, he held out his arm.

  “Shall we go? My Commander loves punctuality as much as he loves beautiful women.”

  That drew a laugh from her. Good. He would have to keep her laughing and smiling.

  They settled into one of Wellington’s town chariots across from the Duke and Duchess. Since the couple were absorbed in each other, he spoke to Lady Amelia.

  “Have you forgotten me?”

  She turned and looked at him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Forgotten you, Captain? How could we? We thought you might be dead, and people were searching for you everywhere.”

  “I had the good fortune to see you only once before I left for France. It would not be surprising if you had.”

  She looked away, out of the window. They had almost arrived, but he waited for her response. He must have said the wrong thing.

  Instead of ringing a peal over his head, she merely whispered, “I did not forget you,” before the carriage halted. The door opened, curtailing further conversation as a footman handed both ladies down.

  Philip watched as La Glacier made a grand spectacle of leaving her post at the top of the stairs and coming down the steps, past those already waiting to greet her nieces. As much indeed, he reflected, as the ‘ice queen’ ever made spectacles. Elegant and composed as ever, she appeared to great advantage this evening being dressed in all white with pearls in her light hair, enhancing the striking pale blue of her eyes.

  “Mes nièces!” she exclaimed as she held out her arms.

  Philip escorted Lady Amelia to La Glacier’s side and made to go. Curiously, Amelia held onto him for a moment before releasing him. Waverley also had the Duchess by his side and seemed reluctant to let go of her until she gave him a subtle nod.

  Both men stepped back and watched.

  Standing next to each other, the resemblance between the three ladies was uncanny. The Duchess’s colouring was identical to her aunt’s, but it was Amelia whom embodied La Glacier’s nature.

  “It would be difficult to find three more beautiful specimens in one place,” Philip remarked.

  “You allowed me to think you were dead all this time and that is the first thing you can say to me?” Waverley threw him a look of disbelief and received an air of insouciance in return.

  “You know how the service is. I did send word once I thought it was safe to do so,” Philip replied in quick defence.

  He could see that Waverley was containing his emotion. Briefly closing his eyes, the Duke swallowed hard.

  “I had a feeling, deep inside, that you might still be alive. It is why I sent Tobin to search for you.”

  Knowing it was hurtful causing Waverley to speak thus, Philip fought for composure.

  “Tobin did an excellent job. He was within feet of me on numerous occasions.”

  Waverley closed his eyes again and exhaled. “You could have trusted him.”

  “It was not a matter of trust.”

  Waverley gave him a sideways look.

  Philip shrugged one shoulder in the French manner he had adopted. “Perhaps there was a certain amount of distrust.”

  “The two of you will be working together a great deal, so I suggest you put aside whatever reservations you have about him.”

  “I will admit that I cannot fault his efforts thus far. By the by, where is the Irish rascal now?”

  “He wanted to continue his post as a vagrant. He thought he could be more useful that way.”

  To himself at least, Philip had to admit he was surprised. Perhaps the fellow would do after all.

  “As far as Amelia goes,” the Duke was saying, “please be careful.”

  “I am always careful,” Philip said through his teeth. They had not been alone since they had arrived and had not had the opportunity to broach the personal topics of the assignment.

  “I am not impugning your honour,” Waverley said mildly.

  “Pray tell, then, what is your meaning?”

  “How do I say this without affecting everything?” He looked around.

  Philip glared at the back of Waverley’s head and waited for the answer.

  “I will say, simply, that you made an impression on Amelia when you met in London. She never quite forgot you.”

  Philip stared. He was not quite certain what that meant.

  “Need I spell it out for you?” Waverley prompted.

  “I suppose you do. It does not seem possible that a female who, by all accounts, has every man in London at her feet would have harboured a tendre for me on such short acquaintance.”

  “Perhaps not, but you went missing not long after her kidnapping, and I imagine it was romanticized in her mind.”

  “No. I cannot believe it of her,” he said, looking over to the object of their discussion. “She does not behave as though she is moonstruck over me.”

  “Believe what you wish, but I wanted you to be aware of the situation since Wellington has decided to appoi
nt you her protector on this commission. I do not intend to be far away, but in this capacity it will be difficult for me to be with her at all times.”

  “I need a drink,” Philip said absent-mindedly as he tried to reconcile these revelations.

  “No, you must remain alert. You know that.”

  “I do not like any of this one bit. I do not see why Wellington thought to bring the sisters in. It is too dangerous and I was close to getting inside.”

  “We will never be able to get as close as her own flesh and blood can. She is, in truth, like ice... except with them. I would not have thought it possible had I not seen it on the ship last year. She was a different person entirely when she spoke to Meg.”

  Philip knew what his friend said was true; he had seen it with his own eyes.

  “Here they come,” Waverley said as La Glacier walked towards them with Meg and Amelia on either side of her.

  “Captain Elliot, you come as a guest this time?” La Glacier asked, eyeing him with evident amusement.

  “How could I stay away with such beauty near?”

  She glanced at Amelia and then back to him. “Oui, I cannot blame you. Be careful, Monsieur.”

  Amelia watched her aunt glide away to her other guests, leaving her standing beside Captain Elliot. So many emotions were swirling inside her, she wanted to go somewhere secluded and be alone before she made a fool of herself. She did not want to face him.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Captain Elliot asked, a thread of humour running through his quiet tone.

  “I am not even certain what they are,” she said frankly, avoiding his gaze. She could not speak honestly about her feelings, at any rate, because she knew how ridiculous she had been in pining for him all these months.

  “It must be fascinating, meeting your infamous aunt after everything that has happened.”

  Amelia watched that aunt, holding court across the room, as every other person, male and female, watched the magnetic figure. She was fascinating. Her beauty was much like Meg’s but more refined and elusive. She wore a slim-fitting gown of white that sparkled like diamonds as she moved, seeming to float everywhere she went. It was easy to see why Napoleon wanted her.

  “I suppose so,” she answered. “She is very like my mother, yet very unlike her.”

  “They have led two very different lives.”

  “My aunt had little choice.” Amelia found herself defending a person she scarcely knew.

  Captain Elliot looked at her curiously. “A person always has a choice.”

  She was finding herself growing angry with him and she knew it was not fair, but she felt it anyway. He had scarcely noticed her before he left for France, just as Meg had warned, yet she had felt an attachment to him which had affected her deeply. Now, here they were, and she wanted to be far away from him, but he was so close she could feel his warmth and smell his cologne of citrus and musk.

  “Lady Amelia?” he prompted.

  “I beg your pardon,” she said, realizing she was being inattentive and unforgivably rude.

  “Are you feeling unwell? Would you like me to escort you back?”

  “No, no, thank you. I am not ill, only a little shocked.”

  “Which is perfectly understandable,” he said gently.

  “It is hard to believe my aunt is all they say she is.” They watched La Glacier, looking like any hostess at a Society ball in London. Except for her being dressed in unrelieved white, it felt perfectly normal.

  “That is a subject you and I need to speak on, but this is not the place.” He leaned forward and spoke quietly.

  “I do not know when you would like to speak, but my time here is short. My aunt has just invited me to leave with her in the morning, to go to her country estate.”

  “Alone?” he asked.

  “Waverley and my sister are also coming.”

  “Then we must talk now. It is urgent.”

  Amelia did not want to talk and especially not with him, over whom her emotions were still in flux. The heart was such a fickle creature; only a few hours before she had been dreaming of finding him!

  “Very well. Shall we seek another, quieter place, or shall we dance?”

  “Mayhap we should dance?” he remarked. “We are less likely to be overheard that way.”

  Amelia saw him subtly scan the room full of people and glanced up at him suspiciously. Nonetheless, she took his proffered arm.

  “Pretend you like me,” Captain Elliot commanded while guiding her through the guests to the dance floor.

  “I do not dislike you,” she explained. “I simply was not expecting to see you.”

  “Why should you expect to see me? Although I hope my sister will be better pleased, I do not believe she is expecting to see me either.”

  “Poor Adelaide.” Amelia clicked her tongue and shook her head.

  “You are acquainted with my sister?” Captain Elliot looked taken aback.

  “The best of friends.” She nodded her head. “We braved London together, though she was fortunate to find a man to love and comfort her.”

  Captain Elliot pulled her close and began waltzing with her, despite the fact that no one else was dancing yet, and the music was more in the background than for a formal dance. She could no longer avoid looking into his midnight blue eyes framed by his black hair hanging across his brow. It was just like in her dreams.

  “You are holding me too close, sir,” she reprimanded.

  “Au contraire. We are in Paris and we need to pretend we are young and in love.” The skin around his eyes crinkled, charm oozing from every limb.

  Amelia’s heart almost stopped. “Why must we do such a thing?” she asked, though she complied and stopped resisting his close hold on her.

  “Because I need to be invited to your aunt’s country estate, and the only way to obtain such an invitation is as your favoured beau.”

  Amelia was certain her cheeks were flaming. She was already embarrassed and out of sorts, being so close to Captain Elliot; indeed, she could hardly think coherently. And now he was proposing they pretend to be in love?

  He was watching her closely which was all the more disconcerting.

  “Are you spying on my aunt?” She had leaned forward to whisper in his ear and thought he shivered beneath her hands, before deciding she must be mistaken.

  “I am a soldier, Lady Amelia. I assume you have been told why Wellington has asked you here?”

  She gave a slight nod.

  “His Grace believes you and I can work together more efficiently.”

  “I collect, he thinks I need a guardian,” she snapped.

  “Those are your words, my lady, not mine.” He spun her about but she refused to be distracted.

  “Do you disagree?”

  “I think you have never done such a thing before. Even seasoned spies need guidance and a partner to look out for them.

  “You would be my partner?” She tried to hold the disbelief from her voice.

  “Now is the time to object before anyone leaves Paris. If you are not equal to the task, we must know now.”

  She needed to be alone to think. Her thoughts were so very conflicted while in his arms.

  “You were not aware spying was really acting upon a dangerous stage, did you?”

  Amelia laughed. It was too much to believe. “I cannot believe what I am hearing.”

  “I confess I was also surprised to learn of Wellington’s plan.”

  “I cannot imagine it pleased you to hear you were to be partnered with me.”

  “I will not be made to confess anything of the sort, my lady.” He pulled back and kissed her hand in a lingering manner before taking her arm and leading her back to her sister. “Consider the matter carefully and let me know your decision as soon as you may tomorrow morning.”

  She would hardly do anything else!

  La Glacier—Aunt Lisette—then walked over to greet her as Captain Elliot strode away.

  “I was unaware you and the C
aptain had formed an attachment.”

  It seemed she would not have a chance to think after all, Amelia mused. “We became acquainted before my uncle kidnapped me, ma’am. We were unable to further that acquaintance due to unfortunate events. Now, it seems, fate has brought us together again.” She allowed her eyes to follow him in what she hoped was a longing fashion.

  Meg was trying to remain impassive but Amelia could read the disapproval in her eyes. Waverley merely looked amused. His mouth lifted slightly and the skin around his eyes crinkled.

  “Perhaps we could stay in Paris for a while longer?” Amelia suggested, knowing it was a risk.

  “I daresay another day or two would not hurt, but my estate is much nicer this time of year.”

  “Merci, Aunt. I would like a chance...” She let her voice trail off.

  “I understand. I was young once.”

  “You are still young,” Amelia protested.

  “La, it is much too late for me, ma belle. My purpose in life, now, is far greater than myself. Enjoy your beau, but do not limit yourself yet awhile. Some men are not meant to be domesticated—which is why they are so irresistible.”

  “My eyes are open, Aunt. I simply wish to enjoy my visit to Paris.”

  “As long as you are wise, I do not see the harm. In fact, if, in two days’ time, you still wish it, you may bring him to my estate. I will not be the cause of your wishing he were there.”

  “You are the best of aunts!” Amelia exclaimed and kissed her on the cheek.

  La Glacier smiled a genuine smile. Amelia could see her mother in her aunt. It made her soften towards the woman and want to know her better.

  Aunt Lisette was then distracted by her man, Lannes, who whispered in her ear and pulled her away.

  “That was cleverly done, Amelia,” Waverley said.

  “I do not like it,” Meg objected. “I can see you are already softening towards her.”

  “She does remind me of Mother when she smiles. There is good in her, I am sure.”

  “I have not said there was not, but I have seen what she is capable of,” Meg argued.

  “And I have heard,” Amelia retorted. “I will be careful.”

 

‹ Prev