“Save a dance for me, too,” Shrewsbury said as the men departed. Colin blinked. He’d been so occupied with his thoughts he had missed the last part of the conversation.
He swung toward Amelia. “Did you agree to save dances for both of them?”
“Yes.” She watched him steadily. “Does that please you?”
The word no was on the tip of his tongue. He shoved the blasted thing down where it belonged.
“It is part of the plan, is it not?” she asked.
He pressed his lips together for a moment then spoke. “Yes, I suppose it is.” He extended his elbow to her, not liking the way she made him feel as if he was ready to explode. “Come.” No woman had ever had this effect on him. Amelia did. There was no use denying it. He needed to put order back into this day and stick to his plan for her. Every last detail of the thing―including never caring about her because to care was to be vulnerable, and he refused to be that. He’d just have to live with the consequences of his decision, no matter how painful.
“I brought you here to be seen, so let us commence making it happen.”
“All right,” she agreed.
Colin glanced sideways at her as they strolled and studied her profile. She had her head turned slightly away taking in the other people walking or maybe she was still studying the flowers. His gaze went immediately to her full, kissable lips. He jerked it to her neck. That was a more benign part, wasn’t it? Less enticing and less apt to lead his mind to lustful thoughts. Of course, her neck had to be creamy and slender and the perfect place to begin a conquest of her body that―
His own body now strumming with need, he lurched away from her. She turned toward him, a frown on her face.
“Whatever is the matter?”
Sweat trickled down his back that was not caused by the damn heat. “Nothing,” he replied, wincing at his hoarse voice. “Something bit me.”
“Oh?” She cocked her eyebrows. “Where?”
“On my arm.”
She eyed him dubiously. “Through your jacket and shirt?”
He scowled. Leave it to him to decide to transform a woman who paid attention to details and who he apparently wanted more than any woman he had ever desired in his life. Amelia’s sharp intake of breath and her clutching his arm drew his attention back to the present. “What is it?” he asked, looking in the direction she seemed to be staring.
Colin locked gazes with Worthington. Of course. Worthington with that same chit from the Stanhope ball clinging to his arm would explain Amelia’s reaction. What he could not explain properly was the twinge of jealousy in his chest. Colin clenched his teeth, and slid Amelia’s hand firmly back through the crook of his elbow while gazing down at her with a seductive smile for Worthington’s sake.
“Close your mouth, Amelia. Gaping will not win over Worthington. Is that Lady Georgiana?”
“Yes.”
Colin took a quick assessment of Amelia’s rival. Average height. Nondescript brown hair. Pretty. Though not a classic beauty like Amelia.
“She’s stunning, isn’t she?” Amelia said, her voice wavering.
He frowned. “The woman in the yellow dress, correct?”
“Of course. Who else? The woman who Lord Worthington is gazing at adoringly.”
Colin glanced at the woman then back to Amelia. “You are stunning. She is forgettable.”
Amelia’s mouth parted once more. This time Colin did not mind one bit. “Close your mouth, Amelia. You’re gaping again.”
She snapped her jaw shut, a ferocious blush staining her cheeks. “Well, obviously Lord Worthington seems to think Lady Georgiana the unforgettable one, which makes me―”
“Foolish for worrying about him,” Colin said, half joking.
“Do be serious,” Amelia pleaded.
“Yes, all right.” Colin studied the couple. They had paused to speak with an elderly gentleman Worthington apparently knew. Lady Georgiana may not be beautiful, but the jewels sparkling from her neck and fingers were. Colin eyed her yellow silk dress. It was clearly costly with beads all over the place. Too many baubles in his mind. Bloody distracting, but maybe that was the point. A suspicion formed then. Worthington’s family had a title, but it was a well-hidden fact that they did not have much money. A plight that had made Worthington prickly as long as Colin had known him.
“Is Lady Georgiana’s family well-off?”
“Extremely,” Amelia murmured, tensing beneath his fingers.
Well, that confirmed his notion. Worthington was marrying for money, unless Lady Georgiana had great wit or astounding skill in the bedchamber. One conversation with the lady was all that he needed to detect wit or a keenness for bed play.
Colin squeezed Amelia’s arm as he watched the other couple approach. “Act besotted with me.”
Amelia nodded and smiled up at him with a coy smile that sent his blood humming again, despite the fact he knew it was an act. He was a fool.
Worthington stopped in front of Colin, eyes narrowed and a false smile on his lips. His gaze flicked over Colin before latching on to Amelia, and a true smile spread across his lips. That little twinge of jealousy assaulted Colin like an army bent on destruction.
Worthington cleared his throat. “It’s wonderful to see you, Lady Amelia.”
“It’s lovely to see you both,” Amelia responded. “Lady Georgiana, I’d like to introduce you to the Duke of Aversley.”
The lady’s eyes popped wide, then traveled hungrily over Colin in exactly the same way so many women’s eyes had in the past. “I’ve heard of you, of course. I believe you are acquainted with my aunt, Lady Diana. She speaks so highly of you.”
“Does she?” He struggled to keep the amusement out of his voice. “When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“At Christmas when I was in Town visiting her. She had just returned from a night at the theatre with you.” Lady Georgiana licked her lips. Slowly. Purposely.
He remembered the night well. They had never made it inside the theatre. They had run into one of his mother’s former lovers and Colin’s mood had turned bad. Diana had refused to leave the theatre, so he’d enticed her away with the promise of a bedding she’d never forget. He’d delivered on the promise, too. Repeatedly. In the carriage. That dirty feeling he’d been trying to get rid of washed over him.
“That certainly explains why she spoke highly of me,” Colin replied, wishing he could walk away from this silly chit’s inquisitive stare and smirking lips. He didn’t move a muscle. For Amelia, he would stay and endure the silent invitation to yet another bed.
Lady Georgiana tittered. “I adore the theatre. I find the ride in the carriage to be my favorite part.”
“I find it to be my least favorite,” Colin said, barely managing to maintain a civil tone.
Lady Georgiana’s lips formed a pout. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you would call on me after I was married and take me to the theatre.”
Well, the lady definitely had an appetite for bed play, but she certainly did not have keen wit. She’d utterly failed to read that he was not interested. “I’m sure your husband would have something to say about that.” Colin purposely eyed Worthington, who was shifting from foot to foot, a pinched look on his face.
Lady Georgiana snorted. “We shall see. Husbands have a way of being managed, especially when the wives bring so much to the marriage.” She flourished her bejeweled hand giving Colin the answer to his earlier question.
“Georgiana, are felicitations in order?” Amelia asked.
“Not yet,” Lady Georgiana said in a syrupy tone. But I’m sure they will be soon. Won’t they, Lord Worthington?”
Amelia’s fingers curled into Colin’s arm even as her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. He wanted to shake her for caring about whether Worthington was marrying this foolish woman before them. Clearly, Lady Georgiana was referring to Worthington and herself, which made Worthington more of a fool than Colin had given him credit for.
Worthington turned a deep shad
e of red. “I…ah…That is, I mean to say―”
Lady Georgiana smacked him on the arm with her fan. “It seems I have taken Lord Worthington by surprise. Is that it?”
His meek nod made Colin almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
“Well”―Lady Georgiana smiled brightly―“we must be going.”
“If you must,” Colin drawled out, nudging Amelia to get her to respond.
“Have a nice ride,” Amelia said, though there was no carriage anywhere in sight.
After the couple disappeared, Colin turned to Amelia who still stood watching the lane where Worthington and Lady Georgiana had strolled away and out of sight. “Amelia―”
“I cannot believe it,” she gasped. “Do you think Lord Worthington is going to marry her?”
Colin nodded, his heart squeezing painfully with her hurt. He wanted to call Worthington out for a duel or maybe he wanted to pump the man’s hand in gratitude for not realizing what he was letting slip through his fingers by letting Amelia go. “I think perhaps Worthington needs to marry for money.”
Amelia jerked her head in a nod. “That would explain it. I’m just so surprised. I did not think he would truly be the sort of man to marry for money, even if he thinks he has to.” She pressed her face into her hands and shook her head before peeling her hands away. “Well, I believed him to be… I don’t know―”
“So much more,” he blurted, wanting to stop her from pouring anymore of her heart out about the man she had thought she loved. It was painful in an unexpected, torturous way.
“Yes, that’s exactly it,” she breathed, clutching his arm. “But do you know what’s surprising―”
“Lady Amelia!” an urgent male voice called from behind Colin.
Growling, he turned and scowled at Worthington’s return. What bloody now?
Worthington strode to a stop directly in front of Amelia. “Please allow me to call on you tomorrow?”
“She’s busy,” Colin snapped.
Worthington glared. “This does not concern you, Aversley. Unless I’m mistaken?”
Colin glanced at Amelia even as Worthington did. She frowned and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours. Are you not about to announce your engagement to Lady Georgiana?”
“That’s precisely why I want to speak with you. Please let me call on you so we may talk in private?”
“There will be no private talking with Lady Amelia,” Colin grumbled, his blood rushing in his ears. “If she wants to let you in my aunt’s front door, I cannot stop her, but her lady’s maid will be present with you at all times. Understood?”
“Funny that you of all men would be a stickler for propriety,” Worthington sneered.
“I find I can’t share your humor,” Colin replied.
She turned her face from him to Worthington. “Will you be at the Kendall’s ball tomorrow night?”
Worthington nodded.
“Tomorrow I’m busy, but I will see you at the ball, and if you still wish to call on me after tomorrow night, then you may.”
“Excellent,” Worthington said. He grasped her hand and kissed it before dashing of the way he had come.
Finally, blessed coldness seeped over Colin. It was welcome. He knew this numbness. Had lived in it and with it for years. It was caring that was too hard and painful. “Shall we go? I believe you have accomplished everything you wished for?”
“Certainly we can go, but―”
He held up a staying hand. “No need to say more. I’d rather not hear you pour out your heart in regards to Worthington.”
Amelia’s brow furrowed. “Yes, but Colin―”
“Aversley,” a voice called loudly from close by.
He knew that cold voice. He looked in the direction his mother approached from. He had the ludicrous desire to pretend he had not seen her, but he’d never be so cowardly.
“I know you see me,” she called as if reading his thoughts.
People stopped to turn and look at him, and suddenly he was a boy of ten in this very same damned park, stumbling upon his mother in the arms of another man. His aunt had been livid and made quite the scene. Heads had swiveled, mouths had hung open, and the talk among the ton had really started that day. Shame twisted his gut and burned it just as it had so many years ago.
Abruptly, something touching his face brought him back to the present. He blinked, and his mother was before him withdrawing her hand. “Where were you?”
“Years away,” he replied, eyeing the bushes. She knew; her pressed lips gave her thoughts away. “Aversley, do you remember Lady Sara? She used to live on a neighboring estate before she moved with her father to America.”
He remembered her perfectly. They had been childhood friends before his mother’s affair with Lady Sara’s father had caused Lady Sara’s mother to kill herself. “It’s been years, Lady Sara. Or do you go by a married title now?”
“No. I’ve never married.”
“She hasn’t married yet,” his mother added, spearing him with a look.
Amelia scrutinized Colin as the two exchanged greetings, trying to decide if he looked interested in the woman or not. He did, didn’t he? His gaze lingered on this Lady Sara. And why not? She had pretty green eyes and shiny black hair. But most of all, she had a sweet smile and had not declared to Colin her intent for another gentleman. Amelia should not care, but she did.
Whatever was the matter with her? Did she love Lord Worthington or not? He certainly didn’t seem worth it at the moment. And Colin… Well, letting herself fall in love with a man who wanted nothing to do with love would be the epitome of foolishness, and she was not foolish. She was a sensible Elinor.
She groaned inwardly. She didn’t feel sensible as she recalled her determination to make Colin trust women and want to fall in love. That had been well and good when the idea had been to change him for another woman’s benefit. There was no risk in that if she failed. But to try and change him for herself, to actually hope that he could want to marry her, her, because he loved her and not simply because he had decided he needed to carry on his title or to simply help Philip? Well, that was likely the most foolish thing she could ever do.
When Colin’s hand briefly touched her shoulder, she jerked and forced herself to follow the conversation she should have been paying attention to. The tips of her ears burned with her embarrassment. Thank goodness they were covered.
“This is Lady Amelia, Mother.”
Amelia focused on Colin. The dangerous gleam in his eyes made her stomach twist. He looked angry.
She quickly curtseyed. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise.” The duchess barely flicked a glance her way. “Colin, I’d like you to call on me and spend time with Lady Sara.”
Amelia caught her breath on the dark look that descended over Colin’s face. He appeared as if was about to go to war with his mother, and her steely look and raised chin indicated she had every intention of engaging the enemy. Amelia had to do something to get Colin away.
“Oh, ouch!” She cried out and reached for her ankle. “I’ve twisted my ankle.”
Before she knew what was happening Colin had scoped her into his extremely well built arms. “Put me down,” she hissed, heat scorching her face.
“Not on your life,” he said, clutching him to her like a lifeline. He dipped his head at his mother and Lady Sara, as if it were every day he clutched a woman to him in the middle of Rotten Row.
Amelia barely held in her giggle.
“Mother. Lady Sara. I’m afraid I need to attend to Lady Amelia’s hurt ankle. If you’ll excuse me?”
His mother pressed her lips together, giving Amelia a narrow-eyed look that made her squirm closer to Colin. Instantly, she was aware that every inch of his body was just as hard as she had imagined. The blush warming her cheeks went from blistering to down right deadly. If her hands had not been twined around Colin’s muscular neck and upper back she would have fanned hersel
f.
Colin swung them away just as his mother spoke in a sharp tone, but to Amelia it sounded more urgent than anything. “Aversley, please don’t forget you have a limited amount of time to fulfill your father’s dictate.”
A pained look flashed in his eyes. “I haven’t forgotten. Rest assured.” Without waiting for a reply, he strode toward where he had parked his conveyance.
“What dictate, Colin?” Amelia whispered.
He faltered in his step, his arms tensing around her. Glancing down with a furrowed brow he said, “Nothing that concerns, you since you seem to be staying nauseatingly devoted to Worthington.”
Amelia opened her mouth to set him straight―well, as straight as she could, since she was utterly confused―but her lady’s maid appeared at her side, red-faced and panting. She whipped up a fan, which she vigorously began to use on Amelia.
“Did you get too hot, my lady?” Lucy asked.
Colin held her tighter as they passed by a group of people, clearly gawking at them. Amelia cringed. Maybe no one would recognize them.
“Aversley,” a tall, dark, dangerous-looking gentleman called out, breaking away from the cluster of people.
Colin cursed under his breath, but all the same, Amelia heard him. She was so close to him she could feel the breath itself. “Who is that?” she whispered about the approaching man, who strangely wore a long black coat even though the heat was rather oppressive today. The garment billowed behind him, making him appear rather ominous. A little shiver escaped her.
“That is the Duke of Scarsdale. Rarely seen, but when he is, you can be sure trouble is afloat. We were once friends but not anymore.”
The Duke of Scarsdale was upon them in a flash. He nodded to Colin and bowed slightly to her. When he came up, piercing black eyes caught her gaze. “I don’t know you. I assure you if I did, I would be the man carrying you now instead of Aversley. You realize his heart is made of ice, don’t you?”
Colin snorted, but this Scarsdale’s offhanded comment angered her. “All things made of ice eventually melt,” she countered.
“Touché,” he said in a voice of silk wrapped with thorny vines. “By the looks of you, I imagine you could provide enough heat to melt a glacier.”
My Fair Duchess (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel Book 1) Page 19
