by Rose Gordon
EJB
Amelia stared at the note in disbelief. It had to have been written by Henry. Did he write that to spare her reputation or his family's honor? Or did it matter now that they were one and the same? Either way, she certainly owed him a debt of gratitude. And possibly a thump on the head for taking such a risk. Had Elijah's aunt not said anything about Gretna Green she could have very easily ruined the illusion he'd tried to make.
Regina exhaled. “Such a pity Henry didn't see fit to show, the two-week old note, to any of us until this morning. I knew they were staying in London and I just saw your wedding announcement last week, but I had no idea he'd hauled you off to elope!” She shook her head. “I have no idea what I'm going to do with those two. Actually—” a hint of a smile took her face— “Elijah is now yours, Amelia. As I once told Caroline after she married Alex, I did the best I could and now it's your turn to make something respectable of him. But I'm sure that'll be an act of love, for you,” she added, grinning.
Was it so obvious she held the same torch for Elijah as she had when she was a young girl or was this inferred due to the Gretna Green story? She contemplated asking, but dismissed the notion instantly.
“It seems like a difficult task, but I'll do my best.”
Carolina grinned. “And where the Banks gentlemen—and young ladies,” she added casting her daughters a sharp look, “are concerned, that's all you can do.”
Chapter Eight
“Alex, have you ever lied to Caroline?”
Alex, his oldest brother, blinked his brown eyes at him from behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. “No. Why?”
Elijah leaned back against the cushions on the settee, refusing to meet either of his brothers' curious gazes. “I just wondered.”
“A man doesn't just wonder that,” Alex commented.
“At least not if he knows what's best for him,” Henry finished, an unspoken message meant for only Elijah in those words.
Elijah ran his hand through his thick hair. “Forget I said anything.”
“We can't. You've already done said it,” John Banks, Elijah's uncle, said plainly as he led a small group of gentlemen who included Elijah's cousins' husbands and his brother-in-law, Sir Wallace Benedict into the room. “Now we're all curious.”
“Just so,” Andrew Black, Earl of Townson, one of Alex's closest friends and the husband of Elijah's outspoken cousin Brooke, agreed as he found a seat on a nearby settee.
Alex didn't seem to mind the intrusion and Elijah didn't even want to venture a look at Henry. He already knew Henry's reaction to being joined.
“Don't be shy to talk about your marital problems, now,” Paul, another cousin's husband, intoned, his lips twitching. “Besides having two vicars present, we're all family. And if that doesn't convince you, you can take comfort knowing a similar conversation has happened with all of us.”
Elijah doubted that.
“You look like you don't believe me,” Paul continued. “Say, Alex, do you recall—”
“Yes,” Alex bit off. “I was trying to explain a very fascinating discovery I'd made about hedgehogs and you three—” he nodded toward Andrew, Paul and Uncle John— “kept asking questions about how Paul and Liberty were rubbing along.”
“If I recall correctly, I gave you leave to continue discussing your findings on hedgehog mating,” Paul grumbled.
Benjamin Collins, Duke of Gateway, the husband to his other cousin, Madison, snapped his head around to face Alex. “You wouldn't still happen to have those notes you took, would you?” he asked hopefully.
Uncle John groaned and turned toward Alex. “If you do, please keep them to yourself. Nobody here, especially him—” he pointed an accusing finger over to the duke— “wants to hear about hedgehog procreation or any other scientific discovery you might have made, of that, I'm quite certain.”
Alex sighed. “Why is it every time we've crossed paths these last five years you ask a battery of questions about my science experiments?”
“No reason,” Benjamin said with a shrug, his blue eyes holding not a clue to what he was thinking.
“Enough of that,” Andrew said, twisting his lips.
“No, I'm truly interested,” Alex argued. “If he wants any more of my science bits, he'd better—”
“Alex, setting aside the fact that other than Caroline, Benjamin is the only person of your acquaintance who seems to find any interest in your 'science bits', I wouldn't complain. At least it gives you someone to discuss your experiments with without risk of sending them into a state of unconsciousness,” Andrew said. “Besides, we're not here to discuss either of you two or any of your science discoveries, but to prod Elijah until he reveals the lie he's keeping from Lady Amelia.”
Elijah almost snorted. They could “prod” him all day long, if they'd like, he had no intention of telling them anything. He shrugged. “There's nothing to tell.”
“Sure there is,” Uncle John said. “You're lying to your wife. Now, just tell us why and we'll help you decide what you should do.”
Elijah cleared his throat, his eyes momentarily locking with Henry's. They exchanged a look: a simple message and understanding, if you will. “My marriage is not up for discussion,” Elijah said coolly.
“No matter,” Benjamin said, repositioning a gold pillow behind his back. “You've already said enough. You've lied to your wife. As a man who...er...might have done something similar for reasons I'd rather not say, I might be able to offer some advice.”
All eyes went to the duke. A more scheming, cryptic individual Elijah had never met—outside of those he'd been paid to see, that is.
“Why would you lie to your wife?” Alex asked Benjamin without a hint of emotion.
Benjamin shrugged. “It was for the best.”
Sir Wallace, Elijah's brother-in-law snorted. “I haven't been married nearly as long as you, but even I know it's not in anybody's best interest to lie to one's wife.”
Elijah shifted his gaze to Sir Wallace. Though a little unusual with his habit of counting when uncomfortable and his somewhat irritating need for perfection, he seemed a decent sort. Elijah hadn't always thought so, of course, but he'd had plenty of time to observe and speculate and now understood just what it was about the man that made Sir Wallace an excellent match for his sister, Edwina: he was genuine. He didn't lie or cheat to get his way. He wasn't the type to grow angry over trivial matters, or even the majority of important matters, either. But neither did he have a menacing bone in his body. Gossip could fly about the man faster than a swallow escaping a tabby, and he wouldn't so much as mutter an impolite statement in response. Yes, Sir Wallace Benedict was odd, indeed; but his oddness was exactly what made him a good match for Edwina.
“Normally, it's not a brilliant idea to lie to one's wife,” Benjamin conceded a moment later. “But sometimes it must be done. Perhaps that's the situation in which Elijah currently finds himself.”
“No,” Elijah said, giving a lopsided shrug. “It was just a question. Nothing more.”
Five snorts rang out, leaving Elijah and Henry the only two who didn't find humor in his statement.
“It's never just a question,” Uncle John said. “Especially not that one.”
“I don't think it's wise to lie to her about anything,” Alex said, garnering nods of agreement from Andrew, Paul, Uncle John and Sir Wallace.
“You wouldn't,” Benjamin muttered, crossing his arms. “The fact is, sometimes it's just the way it has to be and if someone sees a problem with it, then it's because they're too simpleminded to understand.”
A series of snorts, guffaws, scoffs, and head shaking by all the other married men in the room followed the duke's words, but he didn't seem to care. Benjamin Collins was the kind who didn't care what others thought of him or said about him. He was who he was, he said what he felt like saying, and did whatever he wanted; and if you didn't like that, he didn't care. Except when it came to his wife. Madison's opinion seemed to be the only one he cared a
whit about. Apparently she didn't mind his fibbing or he wouldn't be advocating it so much.
“Tell me, Benjamin, how exactly did your wife feel when she learned the truth? And don't think for one minute that I'll believe that she never learned of it, I know my daughter better than that. All three of my daughters can sniff out the truth even if it's buried under a thousand pounds of manure,” John mumbled.
Benjamin shrugged. “She didn't care so much and I expect that Lady Amelia won't, either.”
“Didn't care so much,” Andrew muttered, shaking his head. “From what I heard from her sister—who just so happens to be my wife—I'd say she might have cared more than you'd like to believe.”
“Well, that might be what she told Brooke,” Benjamin said with an overdone frown. “But I don't think so. Madison has no qualm telling me when I do something she doesn't like. If my omission had displeased her that greatly, she'd have said so. Besides, she's the one who insisted I lie to her.”
Elijah's interest was piqued, but he kept quiet. In all of his travels he'd learned that in situations such as this that one gains far more information by being silent than by asking questions.
“How the blazes did you reach such an illogical conclusion?” Alex burst out, taking the words straight from Elijah's mind.
“She said she didn't wish to discuss a certain matter, so I didn't. Therefore, she had no one but herself to blame for my omission.”
Elijah nodded slowly as conversation went on around him. His situation had many similarities, but was still different. He chanced another glance over to Henry. Everyone said they were identical, and perhaps they were with their father's blond hair, blue eyes, and tilted grin, but their personalities were not so identical. Never mind the fact that Henry would not have made the decisions that had led Elijah to this situation, but if he had, he'd just do whatever he felt was his duty without worrying about hurt feelings or damaging a friendship. Henry was more like their father and Alex in that respect. Henry relied on logic and duty to make his decisions while Elijah had a tendency to let his heart interfere—a trait that seemed to be leading him into more trouble with each passing day.
He resisted the urge to scowl at the realization and pushed to his feet. Amelia had not looked overly pleased about being forced to join the ladies for a bout of drawing room chitchat. Surely by now she would certainly be in need of rescuing.
Chapter Nine
“Cake?”
“Cake,” Amelia repeated with a nod as she removed her bonnet and tossed it over the back of the leather chair that was positioned in the middle of the common room in the hunting cabin. “I think you should treat me to a slice of the best cake Bath has to offer tomorrow.”
“You are a very strange young lady; did you know that?” he asked, chuckling. Who knew Amelia had a hankering for cake? No matter. If cake is all she demanded of him for having to endure his female relatives for the better half of an evening, cake is what she'd get.
“Well, now that I'm an old married matron, it won't matter what I eat,” she said as cool as could be as she set her unneeded red scarf on the edge of the pale blue settee.
He removed his grey coat and set it next to her discarded scarf. “And it did before?”
“Of course,” she murmured, running her hands down the front of the pink gown she'd borrowed from Lady Templemore.
Without meaning to, Elijah's eyes followed the path her hands made over her ample bosom, down to her slim waist, then flared out with her hips.
He cleared his throat to tell her something reassuring, but it would seem nothing worked to relieve himself of that strangled feeling. “Amelia, it wouldn't matter if you weren't married. You're...er...” The invisible hands that were strangling him finally choked him tight enough to end his words.
Her lips formed a half-smile. “It's all right. I don't expect you to compliment me.”
He loosened his cravat, whether because he needed to in order to take it off for the night or because it seemed to suddenly be choking the life out of him, he might never truly know. She was his oldest friend. He'd complimented her many times when she'd found some clever way to best Henry at a game and even a few weeks ago he'd complimented her dancing at his sister's wedding. He cocked his head to the side. How strange. He had always complimented things she did, never actually her.
“Amelia?”
She smoothed her skirt and kept her eyes trained on whatever it was on the floor that had managed to capture her attention. “Hmm?”
“You are a very beautiful young lady.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks turned the palest shade of pink and she kicked off her cream slippers. “Don't worry. I shan't overindulge too often.”
Elijah sighed. “I'm not worried about you gaining a few pounds, Amelia. I just wanted to tell you—” He shrugged. “Well, I already said it, so now you know.”
Amelia twirled a tendril of her fallen hair around her finger. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
Amelia gave her head a little shake, almost as if she were shaking off his words, then she bit her lip. She'd been acting most strange since they'd entered the cabin. Surely she wasn't afraid to be alone with him.
“Amelia?”
“Hmmm?”
Elijah ignored her half-hearted response and took a step closer to her. She'd been able to put him off for two nights. But tonight she wouldn't have an excuse. “Amelia,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her.
She swallowed audibly and stood stock-still.
Slowly, Elijah brushed his lips across hers, hoping to fan some internal flame she had.
“I—I'm not ready,” she blurted. She cleared her throat and took a step away from him. “This is all so sudden.”
He stared at her. Sudden? How could she even think to claim his actions were sudden? They'd been married, or on their way to marry, for the better part of three days, surely she understood that most ladies were expected to share their husbands' beds within hours of being married. It didn't seem sudden at all as far as he was concerned. “You were prepared to do this with Lord Friar two days ago, were you not?”
Amelia's eyes widened at his frank words, then she clasped her hands in front of her. “Of course.”
“Then I see no reason for you to have any reservation when it comes to me.”
“Of course you wouldn't,” she murmured.
He lifted his eyebrows.
“As you know,” she said, taking another step backwards. “I was promised to Lord Friar for a fortnight. It gave me plenty of time to prepare for...”
“Coitus,” he supplied for her.
Her cheeks turned crimson. “Yes, that.”
“Well then, you had two weeks to get accustomed to the idea of sharing your body with him and an additional two days to rejoice that you don't have to. That doesn't sound sudden at all, if you ask me.”
Her silver eyes bore into him. “Perhaps it doesn't to you. It seems to me you're rather willing to jump between the sheets with anyone in a skirt.”
“That's not true.”
She crossed her arms and held his gaze, a glint of fire in her eyes. “Isn't it?”
He studied her. Why did she appear so angry? Had she heard some undesirable rumor about him? He nearly scoffed. There wasn't such a rumor to be heard. As much as he'd hate to admit this publicly, he'd followed right in his father's and brother's steps and had managed to avoid any type of scandal whatsoever.
“I still don't see the problem.” He crossed his arms. “You've had plenty of time to 'prepare yourself', as you so delicately termed it.” By the shade of red her face had now grown, she was about to combust with fire if he didn't stop, but an observer of their conversation would have never known she was uncomfortable about their conversation by her next words.
“Yes, well, as charming as you might think you are, I require more time to accept that you'll be my lifelong bed partner.”
He ignored the sharpness in her tone and the way the meaning of her wor
ds hit him like a punch in the gut. Turning his head to the side a fraction, he lifted his chin a notch and looked at her through his lowered lashes. “I am charming, aren't I?”
“Not as much as you seem to think,” she said, lacking any sense of emotion.
Elijah straightened. What the devil was wrong with her? He'd expected her to giggle or at least crack a smile at his nonsense, not be so dismissive of him. He stared at her for a moment. If she were anyone else treating him this way, he'd let loose the scathing retort that was on the tip of his tongue.
“Very well.” Elijah nodded, then taking care not to brush her crushed skirt, he exited the common room and entered the bedroom.
***
Amelia inhaled a deep breath, then blew it out. She'd never been one to keep a secret from Elijah. Perhaps she ought to tell him? She bit her lip and resumed twisting a lock of her hair around her finger. She could, she supposed. Actually, no not could, she should. He deserved to know. Her teeth bit harder into her lip. What would he think of her? Even if she weren't carrying another man's child, would he lose all regard for her for giving away her virtue so easily?
Tears welled up in her eyes. How could she have been so careless? One minute she was digging around in a desk looking for an elusive piece of parchment the next she was seeing colors and being talked to by a stranger with a deep voice, then...then she was kissing him, only to wake up and not know what happened between them.
What would Elijah think of her when she told him? He might not care so much about her loss of innocence in an intimate or possessive way since he didn't see her that way. But would he think less of her as a friend or as a person? Would he see her only as a fallen woman? One who had no hope of a future except to marry the biggest reprobate who'd ever walked the soil of England?
She swallowed the lump of raw emotion in her throat and blinked away the tears. She couldn't tell him. Not yet anyway. She'd stick to her earlier decision and tell him everything when she knew for certain if she was or wasn't carrying a child.
