His chest labored as he took a deep breath. God, he’d been a nodcock. I shouldn’t have come back to Trenton Hall. It had ruined everything. How had he not seen Charles’ jealousy or the signs his best friend had wanted Amelia for himself?
Because I was completely distracted by her.
When the coach jerked to a halt and his driver hailed someone outside, Cornelius popped his eyes open. What now? Charles coming to gloat over his victory? He rolled down the window glass on his side and poked his head out the window. “Carl? What’s amiss?”
“Uh, my lord, Lady Amelia is standing in front of the horses. Says she won’t move until she can speak with you,” came the reply from his driver.
“Mia?” His pulse jumped, but then he hardened his heart. From his position, he couldn’t see her. “Tell the lady she’s made her choice and I have nothing more to say.” He pulled his head back inside and rolled up the window glass, resettling onto the bench as Carl relayed the information.
Damned fool woman who couldn’t leave well enough alone. What did she expect him to do? Grovel? Absolutely not.
Seconds later, the door wrenched open and Amelia stood within the gap. Snowflakes swirled about her and dotted her black wool cloak that was lined with carnelian satin. The hood of the garment covered her head, giving her an air of both mystery and innocence. But it was her eyes that held him captive—the tragedies of the ages seemed anchored in those mossy depths.
“I need to talk to you, Cornelius,” she finally said after the long swath of shocked silence rolled between them.
He crossed his arms at his chest. “No one’s stopping you. After all, this is your property.”
Muttered words fell from her lips that sounded suspiciously like, “You are the most aggravating, annoying, wonderful man,” but he couldn’t be certain since the tone was almost inaudible. “Please come out of there. I refuse to make this speech with you sitting on a coach bench and us not on equal footing.”
“Equal footing?” Cornelius snorted as he peered at her. “We are never on equal footing. You’ve made that abundantly clear.” He ignored the fetching picture she made with her cheeks red from the cold and one hand hidden in the folds of her cloak.
“Please.” That one-word entreaty rang with desperation. “I must tell you this one last thing. Then you can decide if you wish to return to London.”
Something in the set of her jaw and how she held her head that exposed her throat—showing her vulnerability and trust—as well as the emotions roiling in the depths of her eyes gave him pause. If she wished to berate him one last time, she didn’t have the look, and she could certainly have done it while standing right there. He gave a curt nod. “Very well.” He unbent himself and with a grimace of pain, he climbed down from the traveling coach, and then came toward her a few steps.
Amelia skittered away as if she wasn’t sure of her reception. It was good to have her on the offensive, for he wasn’t ready to forgive her yet. Perhaps he never would. A man who’d been cut to the quick didn’t forget that hurt with alacrity.
“I’m afraid I’m at a loss of where to start,” she admitted with a shrug that only lifted one shoulder.
“You were the one who accosted my coach, madam, so I suggest you find your bearings. I have travel plans, and I’d rather not delay further, for it looks like more snow is in the offing.” The response came out frostier than he would have liked, but his patience had been stretched already. There was only so much a man could bear.
“Right.” She nodded. With the snow falling around her and her vibrant red clothing as striking against the white as a slash of blood, he couldn’t help but admire the picture. At another time, perhaps, he would have taken her into his arms and stolen a kiss.
But those days and that sentiment were long past.
“You left this behind.” Amelia untangled his cane from the folds of her cloak. She offered the accessory to him with a hopeful expression. “I assumed you might have need of it.”
The gesture confounded him. Why would she care that he’d forgotten the cane? She could have easily given it away. “Thank you.” Cornelius accepted her gift—no doubt her peace offering—and settled the silver head of it into his gloved palm, the tip planted in the inch of new snow on the drive. “You could have sent it to me by courier.”
“I could have, yes, but I wished to speak with you.” The tip of her tongue darted out and whisked away a snowflake that had alighted on her bottom lip.
He stifled a groan. No longer was she his, and he had to remember that. “What is it you want to say? This delay is unnecessary, for you have a nuptial ceremony to attend.” The knowledge twisted the metaphorical dagger between his ribs and stole his ability to breathe. And dash it all, the ache around his heart renewed its torture. Surely this was a nightmare he’d awaken from soon.
“No, I do not.” Amelia clasped her gloved hands tightly in front of her. “I have told Charles in no uncertain terms I won’t marry him.” Her gaze never wavered as she held his. “Furthermore, I have given him an ultimatum: rise up to the mark of the earl or I will canvas our family tree for a distant relative and hand the responsibility to that man.”
Shock moved through him so hard that he took a step backward. “Oh?” Even though they both knew she didn’t have that power, the symbolism of her words was the most important thing.
“Yes.”
“Why? You’d made it abundantly clear where he stood in your affections. Familial blood being stronger than anything else if I remember correctly.”
“This is true. I won’t deny what I said, but I do regret those words.” A blush deepened on her cheeks. “I have made mistakes, Cornelius, but none have been so great as asking you to leave this last time.”
“It certainly didn’t sound like you regretted it.” He refused to give quarter. No longer would he plead for her affections. If she continued to play him like a bowstring, first giving him her time and then taking it away and afterward choosing Charles, he wanted nothing more to do with her. His ego wouldn’t allow such fickleness. “Why should I believe you now? It’s entirely possible if I take you at your word, the moment I step foot back inside the house, you’ll find another way to cut my soul to ribbons.”
“I’ve acted horribly.” She nodded. “And I understand how you feel.” She glanced past him and the coach. When he followed her gaze, he narrowed his eyes. All the Trenton Hall servants were filing out of the house to line the top curve of the circular drive. Edward as well as Lady Rebecca joined them. Mr. Jessup stood at the top of the stone stairs. The butler nodded to her.
In encouragement or as a sign to get on with it and let him leave?
A shuddering sigh escaped her. “Cornelius, it’s time to be honest with you and myself.” When she looked at him, tears pooled in her eyes. “Please forgive me for the words I said to you out of anger. You were right when you said I’ve been hiding behind fear. That emotion—that shortcoming—has been my crutch for too many years. I am done using it as an excuse and a reason that prevents me from living my life as I should.”
“Meaning?” He tightened his fingers on the head of his cane. There could be no misunderstandings this time, and no secrets.
She pressed her lips into a thin line so tight those pieces of flesh turned white for an instant. “I fell in love with you thirteen years ago. You were dashing and charming, everything daring an officer and a spy should be.” When he raised an eyebrow, she rushed onward. “But my feelings were hurt when you left, when you chose your career over what we might have had between us.”
“You were angry at the time, Mia. It wasn’t love. Infatuation, perhaps, or misguided passion.” He steeled his heart against her words, for he had been disappointed before.
“Yes, I was. And so were you. That didn’t discount the heat between us. Death doesn’t lend itself well to romance.” She put gloved fingers to her lips as her chin trembled. “Marrying Grant meant you were forever out of my reach, yet I clung to the hope that the
babe I carried would resemble you, so I would always remember...” A tear fell to her cheek.
He ignored her distress; he had to for his own peace of mind. She’d gone over this information before. “Your point, madam? I am running behind schedule.”
“When my little hope was taken from me, that loss hurt more than anything else, for it was the final piece of you gone.” A cry of either frustration or despair left her. “It wasn’t until you arrived at this house party that I knew my path wasn’t done crossing with yours.”
“We were prior acquaintances with a history. Nothing more.” Yet his pulse accelerated. Heat built inside him; he no longer noticed the snow or the slight breeze propelling it.
“I don’t believe that, and neither do you. The connection we share goes deep. It left an impression on my heart, a fire in my blood, an itch beneath my skin I couldn’t ignore each time I saw you, spoke with you, touched you.” She threw out a hand to him, but he resisted taking it, for once he did, he’d be lost, and nothing had been resolved. “Cornelius, please.”
“Please, what?” He cocked his head while a grin of amusement flirted with his lips. “I rather think the solution to this convoluted speech is quite simple.”
Her hand fell heavily to her side. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s time to lay bare my soul.” Amelia tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as the breeze blew the cloak’s hood from her head. “I realized too late that what I truly want from life and in my life is you. If you clear away all the horrible words we’ve said to each other, if you forgive all the wrongs, if you tear away all the secrets, what’s left is love.” She brought her gaze to his. Twin tears slipped down her cheeks. “I love you, Cornelius. Will you please stay and continue where we left off?”
His ability to remain rooted to the spot was compromised by the honesty in her entreaty. However, pretty words and declarations weren’t what he wanted. Oh, no. He needed so much more. Even as joy bubbled up in his chest, he kept his expression hooded. “What of Charles? No doubt he’ll be around like a specter of the past.”
“I realize that, for he’s family, and I have precious little of that left.”
“A man won’t soon forget a rival who tried to have him killed.” Would he be able to forgive what Charles had done to him? It was something he’d need to ponder.
“I know.” The words sounded so forlorn that his heart squeezed. He really was a cad for making her go the distance, but he had to know she wouldn’t change her mind. “I believe he will change; he’ll have to. I won’t accept anything less.”
“Perhaps you need time until matters here settle.” God, he was a bastard for acting as if he were a player upon a Drury Lane stage, but he owed it to himself—and her—to make this ending, or rather their beginning, as emotional as their history. “You know my address in London, Amelia. Write to me there when you’re sure.” He half-turned as if he would go back to his traveling coach.
“Wait!” She staggered toward him a few steps.
Her cry had him attending her once more. “Was there more to your speech?”
“Yes,” she said on a gasp. Then the darling woman dropped to her knees in front of him despite the snow that would ruin her satin skirting. “I’m so incredibly sorry for how I’ve acted, not only during this house party but also in the past.”
“I wonder if the apology comes too late,” he whispered, merely to see how far she’d go. It was rather pleasant, this being courted.
“We’ve both made mistakes.” Desolation reflected in her eyes and tone.
“We have.” It was becoming more difficult to keep his humor of the situation hidden.
“No doubt we’ll continue to make them.”
“It’s practically a given, for that is what life is all about.”
“I don’t want perfect.” A note of panic had entered her voice.
“Good, for there is no such thing. Life is raw and real and messy and emotional. It has joyous moments and horrid ones. It will send you flying and lay you low. If you’re not living it that way, you’re doing it wrong.”
“You’ve helped me to see that.” Amelia nodded. “I certainly don’t want a lauded or a celebrated hero. I want a flawed man with annoying habits who I can hold, and kiss, and fight with.” The delicate tendons of her neck worked with a hard swallow. “A man who will forgive me as I forgive him, and we can go forward stronger than before.”
“No doubt the world is full of them,” he tossed out with twitching lips that desperately wanted to burgeon into a grin of pure masculine happiness. “You should start your search with alacrity.”
“Damn you, Cornelius.” She scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. “Don’t be an arse.”
“I’m trying, but you’re making it too easy for me, darling.” He couldn’t hold back the endearment any more than he could the grin he finally gave into. “Perhaps you should say what you’ve intended all along, what’s really sitting on your heart. It’s rather chilly out here.”
Hope sprang into her beautiful eyes. “I’ve lost so many people in my life already. I don’t want to lose you again.” Her breath puffed out in frozen clouds about her face as she bowed her head. “I’m having a difficult time with... everything, and...” She expelled a quick breath. “... I can’t bear you children, but I’m still a woman worthy of love.”
“Of course, you are. You always have been,” he agreed in a low voice while extremely conscious of their audience. God, he needed to put the dear thing out of her misery, for she was rather mucking it up.
A tiny sob escaped her. “What I’m trying to say is this. Cornelius Matthew Edgerton, will you marry me? For good or for ill, will you stand with me for the rest of our lives?”
Slow seconds went by, marked by the throbbing of his heartbeat in his ears. Perhaps he was a fool, but he believed her. “I have never required perfection in a spouse, but I do need someone who can go to battle with me.”
“And?” The word was puny, snatched away by the Christmas breeze.
“Oh, sweeting.” He approached her position, and when he reached her, he put his free hand beneath her chin and gently raised her head until their gazes connected. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you to distraction, but I needed to be sure of your feelings for me.” The pieces of his heart picked themselves off the floor and flew into place, held together by a love that had endured over the years.
“You will?” Wonder reflected in her eyes as she stared.
“I will. As soon as I can procure a license.” He grasped her hand and easily tugged her into a standing position. “I love you, Mia. Never doubt that.”
“I don’t.” She wiped at more tears. “I should never have let anything break that.”
“This merely gives us an opportunity to try better in the future.” Then, to cheers and applause from the servants, Cornelius claimed her lips in a kiss he hoped seared his memory into her brain and told her in no uncertain terms how much he adored her. When he pulled away, his breathing was as labored as hers.
As she smiled, he handed her his cane and then swept her up into his arms. He turned them toward their audience. “What now, love?”
“I’ve asked the clergyman to stay back so you can make arrangements for a ceremony in the coming days.” She twined her arms about his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.
If his heart swelled any more, it would surely burst from joy. At long last, she was his. “And afterward?”
Wicked mischief gleamed in her eyes. “Take me to bed. I never did give you a proper birthday gift.”
Blood rushed to his member and hardened the length. He glanced at the carriage driver. “Carl, it seems I’m staying on for a bit. You might as well unpack your belongings.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Cornelius looked at the enticing bit in his arms. “What a scandalous widow you’ve turned out to be,” he whispered as he carried her toward the house.
“I suppose that’s what happens when a lady chooses to wear red every day.” The
smile she bestowed upon him sent him falling deeper into love with her.
As Cornelius reached the top step, he addressed the butler. “Mr. Jessup, can you manage to keep the lady’s guests entertained for another hour while Lady Amelia and I talk privately?” Though he doubted there’d be much cause for verbal communication once he reached her rooms.
“It will be my pleasure, my lord.” The butler beamed. There were tears of happiness in his eyes as he shooed everyone inside the house.
It seemed he hadn’t been the only one in her life who wished to see her taken care of. Cornelius fit his lips to the shell of Amelia’s ear. “Soon, I shall see to your pleasure,” he said in a barely there voice.
“You’re incorrigible.” A lighthearted giggle escaped her. The sound dispelled the last clinging vestiges of pain he’d known before. “Happy Christmas, Cornelius.”
“Happy Christmas, Mia. I’m so glad I finally won you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She pressed her lips to the skin of his neck above his cravat. “You never lost me, though I might have been lost for a time myself.”
“Never again, love. We’ll lead each other through the darkness and the light. Together.”
Epilogue
January 5, 1819
Amelia sighed as the door to her bedchamber closed with a slight click. She smiled when Cornelius turned the key in the lock. It was nearing midnight of Twelfth Night and they’d seen the last of their guests off an hour ago, following an elaborate dinner the servants insisted upon to celebrate her wedding the marquess.
“We’ve survived the holidays with our sanity intact... more or less,” she said while she kicked off her red satin, heeled slippers. Since her maid had made certain a fire was burning cheerfully behind the grate in the hearth, Amelia moved closer to its warmth and held out her hands. As soon as the last guest had left, the snow began in earnest. By morning, it would fully cover the landscape with a deep blanket of white.
“More to the point, we have seen each other at our worst and barest and have forgiven the scars,” he said as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “That truth is stronger than any pain in our pasts. Don’t you think?”
Wrapped in Red (Colors of Scandal, #4) Page 17
