Again, it seemed to take an age for the occupant to shuffle to the door and open it.
“I told you, Mrs. McMartin, I ain’t got it yet—”
The woman who opened the door trailed off abruptly at the sight of Amelia.
Amelia made a quick appraisal and a quicker decision. She could easily slip into the same working-class accent as the people she’d encountered in this neighborhood, but she didn’t. Instead she employed her best Mayfair, all honeyed vowels and clipped consonants. It was time to deploy the Commanding Heiress. She drew herself up straight and raised her chin. “I’m Miss Amelia Wheeler. I’m looking for Cora. Might you be she?”
Cora—for Amelia was sure this must be her—was not much older than herself, perhaps twenty-five. Although she looked a bit tatty in her cheap embroidered Chinese robe, with her light brown curls in a sloppy braid slung over her shoulder, Amelia could squint and imagine her cleaning up quite well. Her bosom alone, even in her loose robe with no undergarments, was noteworthy. With her ample curves in a corset, she’d cut quite a figure. Her face was soft-featured, and a dusting of light freckles across her cheeks lent her a deceptive air of innocence because her pretty blue eyes were shrewd and assessing. She had an attractive mouth, with full, pink lips and good teeth. In short, Amelia had the uneasy feeling she might be speaking to a gentleman’s mistress. Cheadle’s? Perhaps. She was pretty enough, in a rather obvious way, to turn a man’s head. But how did he afford her when he couldn’t afford a sandwich? And what hold could a mistress possibly have on him to explain his actions?
Cora’s eyes widened. “Did you say you was Miss Wheeler?”
“I did. It’s interesting you seemed to have heard of me, Cora—I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name. Miss...?”
Cora swallowed thickly. “Morley.”
“Ah. Morley. What an unusual coincidence. You see, this very morning, I was abducted from an estate in Kent by a Mr. Cheadle and his friend, a Mr. Morley. Their aim, I believe, was to disgrace me, leaving me no choice but to marry Mr. Cheadle.”
Cora threw up her hands and shook her head. “I don’t know nothing about it, I swear.”
Amelia drew Cora’s letter from the pocket of her skirt. “That’s funny, because in this letter you wrote to Mr. Cheadle, you seemed to know he was pursuing an heiress. I can only assume you meant me.”
“He was supposed to elope with you, not kidnap you!”
“Well, I had no interest in eloping with Mr. Cheadle, as he well knew. It seems Mr. Cheadle decided on a more forceful line of persuasion. But I don’t understand your role in the proceedings. Yours or Mr. Morley’s.”
“No one meant you any harm. He said you’d be happy to marry a bloke with a title.”
“Then he doesn’t know me well at all.”
Footsteps pounded up the stairs behind them, and two familiar voices echoed in the cramped hall.
“Look, where else can she go? She’ll run home to her father and tomorrow I’ll show up promising to make an honest woman out of her. Her father will be so grateful to hush the business up, he’ll probably arrange the whole thing himself.”
Amelia turned, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting until Morley and Cheadle had cleared the stairs and stepped onto the landing.
“Except she didn’t run home to her father,” Amelia said. “She came here to find out what the bloody hell is going on.”
Cheadle blanched, his frantic gaze shooting to Cora. “How did you find this place?”
“It was the return address on the letter in your pocket. The letter that seemed to cause you such distress over breakfast the other day. I’ve been getting to know Cora, here, but I confess I’m still puzzled as to why she and Mr. Morley are so invested in who you marry.”
“Look, Miss Wheeler,” Cheadle said, holding his hands out to placate her. “This has all gone too far.”
“I’ll say it has.”
“I’ll take you back home. I’ll swear to your father that you’re innocent. I’ll tell Lord Radwill the same. Just come away from here and forget what you’ve seen.”
“Oh bloody hell, Cheadle,” Morley growled. “You’re such a coward. You think she’ll keep her mouth shut now? And what do you propose to do, go find some other heiress to woo and marry? No, it’s this one and it happens tonight.”
Morley took two strides forward and grasped Amelia by the arm, pulling her toward the stairs.
“Take your hands off me!” she hissed. Morley didn’t respond, but he also didn’t look at her, which was foolish on his part. No one ever took Amelia seriously, when they really ought to. She planted her left foot to give herself some leverage. It brought Morley up short and he spun around to face her, which was exactly what she wanted him to do. He opened his mouth to say something to her but his words were lost in a howl of pain as her right knee made firm contact with his groin. Morley doubled over, gasping for breath. Amelia grabbed a good handful of his hair, bringing up her knee again, this time squarely into his forehead. Morley pitched forward and she scooted to the side, letting him hit the landing with a thud. His head impacting with the floor did the rest of the work for her. He wasn’t unconscious, but quite dazed, his hands scrabbling across the floor but not finding the coordination to pull himself to his feet.
“Bloody hell!” Cora shouted. “You little...”
Amelia planted her booted heel on the back of Morley’s neck. “Ah, ah. I can do much worse. And Cheadle, if I brought down Morley so handily, I’m fairly certain I can snap you in half. Now, Cora, tell me, is this man your husband?”
Cora shook her head slowly. “No, not him.”
“Cora, be quiet!” Cheadle barked.
“No, please,” a new voice called out from the stairs. “I’m very curious to hear the explanation for this scene.” Although Amelia felt confident in her ability to handle the situation herself, and indeed, had been doing so quite efficiently, she felt nearly weak with relief when she heard that voice. More so when she saw the man who owned it climb the final steps and emerge onto the landing.
“Nate!”
Every noble intention she’d had when she left his bed the night before had burned away during the course of this day and now, as she laid eyes on him again, her entire future fell into place with a crystalline clarity. As he’d sworn to her the night before, she’d likewise resolved in her own mind; he would marry no one but her, consequences be damned. The delight and relief lighting his eyes when they met hers reassured her that he felt the same. This was her home. The cost would have to be borne, because she wouldn’t—couldn’t—give him up.
Nate had reached the landing first, as Josiah Wheeler painfully made his way up, one flight below. The first person he saw was the one he desperately wanted to find. When his eyes met Amelia’s, the fear and panic that had held him in its grip all day washed away in such a flash, he was momentarily weak in the knees. She was here, seemingly safe. When her eyes, radiant with emotion, met his, it felt as if the ragged piece of his heart that had been torn free this morning knitted back into place at last.
Once the relief of discovering her cleared a bit, he registered the rest of the scene. She was standing over Morley, who was groaning and making pitiful attempts to rise to his feet, but Amelia’s boot on his neck kept him from getting far. A woman in an advanced state of undress—the one Cheadle had addressed as Cora—stood stunned in the open door to a shabby flat. Cheadle had plastered himself against the landing wall, too overwhelmed to move.
Amelia removed her foot from Morley’s neck and ran to Nate, throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her against his chest, closing his eyes and thanking every deity he’d encountered around the world and all the ones he hadn’t met yet that he’d found her, that she was safe and back in his arms. Better than safe, she seemed to be in the midst of winning a fight with a man twice her size.
“Oh, I’m fine.” She smiled up at him, those jet-dark eyes shining and alive. His greedy eyes drank in every tiny part of her—the finely arched brows, that little freckle under her eye, her full lips, still a bit bruised from their night together. “I’m a bit dusty and tired and I’m positively famished, but none of it matters now you’re here.”
Josiah Wheeler, heavily favoring his lame leg, made his way to the landing at last. “Papa! You shouldn’t have climbed all those stairs. Your knee must be in a terrible state.”
“I climbed them because my daughter had been kidnapped. What the blazes is going on here? Cheadle, explain yourself at once before I summon the constable.”
“Now, now, there’s no need to be calling the law,” Cora interjected quickly. “Miss Wheeler’s right as rain. No harm done.”
Josiah Wheeler, imposing in spite of his injury, took a threatening step toward her. “These two abducted her in the middle of the night and you claim there’s no harm done?”
What Nate wanted was to pick up with Morley where Amelia had left off, but they needed information first, and this woman—Cora—seemed to be the key. Instead of taking her by the shoulders and shaking her until she coughed up some answers, he kept a tight rein on his temper. “I heard you say Morley isn’t your husband, so who is he to you?”
“He’s my brother.”
“What is the meaning of all this racket?” another voice shouted up the stairs. Nate glanced behind him, seeing the same hardened landlady who’d admitted them stomping her way up the stairs. The residents of the rear flat on the third floor—a tired-looking husband and wife—had come to their door and were now watching the scene on the landing with undisguised interest.
“It’s nothing, Mrs. McMartin,” Cora called out. “These people was just leaving.”
“We’re not leaving without answers,” Nate stated.
“You’re going to pay for this, Cheadle, title or no,” Mr. Wheeler barked, pointing a finger at him. Cheadle looked about ready to be sick.
Mrs. McMartin planted herself at the top of the stairs and surveyed the scene, Morley still on the floor, but now on his knees, Cora in her gaping robe, Amelia clinging to Nate, and the imposing figure of Amelia’s father, about to strangle Cheadle, who looked ready to faint dead away. “You know I don’t allow fights, Cora,” Mrs. McMartin warned.
“It’s a little misunderstanding,” Cora said brightly.
“One I’d like cleared up once and for all,” Nate said. “So Morley is your brother. Who is Cheadle to you?”
“Why, he’s her husband,” Mrs. McMartin said.
All eyes turned to Mrs. McMartin. Cheadle groaned and dropped his head back against the wall.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Wheeler asked. “Do you mean Mr. Cheadle is married to this young woman?”
Mrs. McMartin drew herself up with a haughty sniff. “‘Course they is. This is a respectable establishment. I don’t allow couples to live here what aren’t properly married. Cora showed me the license on the first day.”
“Did she now?” Nate said, turning to look at Cora. Suddenly everything was becoming clear. “Cheadle, does your father, Lord Chiswick, know of your lovely bride?”
“Shut up, Smythe,” Cheadle snarled. “It was a youthful indiscretion, one I’ve regretted ever since.”
“Ho, now!” Cora protested, reaching out to smack the side of Cheadle’s head. He flinched.
“Cora,” Amelia said to her. “If you’re married to Mr. Cheadle already, why were you encouraging him to propose to me?”
Cora rolled her eyes. “Lord, for your fortune, of course. Victor’s flat broke and his father will disown him if he finds out about me. Victor said if I was to stay quietlike and out of the way, he could marry himself an heiress and then he’d have plenty of money for us. He said you wouldn’t want to be no proper wife to him anyway, so he could come live in a nice little place with me and we’d have your money.”
“But that’s bigamy!” Amelia cried.
“Not if no one told,” Cora said defensively.
“But you told your bloody brother!” Cheadle shouted at her. “He’s been breathing down my neck ever since because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut!”
Morley had managed to bring himself to a sitting position, slumping back against the stairway banister. “Somebody had to light a fire under you, Cheadle. We needed the money.”
“So you were blackmailing him,” Nate said. “Helping to keep his first marriage a secret for a share of the fortune he meant to marry.” Nate chuckled and shook his head. “I must hand it to you, Cheadle, I thought you were a low-down vermin, but you’ve surprised me with the depth of your depravity.”
“You’re not going to tell my father, are you?”
“Lord Tewsbury went straight to his house when we arrived in London to tell him what you’d done to Amelia. I’m sure it’s a matter of hours before this whole sordid business reaches his ears.” Nate glanced over Cora’s shoulder at the shabby little flat. “I would make yourself comfortable with your wife, Cheadle. I suspect you’ll be living here for the foreseeable future.”
Mr. Wheeler shook his head. “Such despicable behavior. And from a man of quality. I’m shocked and appalled.”
Nate cast one last scathing look over Cheadle and his grasping wife and brother-in-law and shook his head, disgusted. “Mr. Wheeler, a title is only that—a name. It doesn’t speak to the quality of the man bearing it.”
“True. I owe you a great debt, Mr. Smythe,” Wheeler said. “You’ve saved my girl from a terrible fate.”
“Pardon my saying, but Amelia seemed well on her way to saving herself when we got here. And her fate is as much my concern as yours, Mr. Wheeler.” Nate tightened his arm around Amelia’s waist.
Wheeler’s eyes took it all in and narrowed. “We’ll discuss it later. Now let’s get back to Berkeley Square. Your mother is beside herself with worry.”
Amelia’s eyes lowered. “Poor Mama. She doesn’t need this kind of distress.”
“She’ll be all right once she sees you’re safe and sound.” Wheeler turned to Cheadle. “I’ll be speaking to your father in the morning, Cheadle. We’ll come to an understanding then.” He began to limp back down the stairs.
Nate slid his hand down Amelia’s arm until he was grasping her hand. “Let’s get out of this place. There’s nothing here of any concern to us.”
Amelia nodded, then faced Cheadle. “I plan on calling on Genevieve Grantham in the morning. There won’t be a wealthy young woman in Europe or America who doesn’t know about you. Don’t think to try this despicable stunt again. Come, Nate. I want to forget I ever laid eyes on this sad excuse for a man.”
Nate grinned and held his tongue. There was nothing he could say to Cheadle that Amelia hadn’t already. And as for Morley...well, the man still wasn’t standing, so it seemed she’d handled him tidily, as well.
“As you wish, darling.”
Chapter Nineteen
Their return to Mayfair was only a different sort of pandemonium. Amelia had just enough time to assure her mother she was well before Lord Chiswick and Lord Tewsbury arrived. Mr. Wheeler provided Lord Chiswick with the address where he might find his bigamist son and the latter left to meet his newly discovered daughter-in-law and unleash his wrath.
Tewsbury promised to stay for dinner along with Nate, but a telegram needed to be sent to Tewsmere letting his wife and the rest of the guests know Amelia had been found and was safe, so he and Mr. Wheeler left for Wheeler’s business offices where a t
elegraph machine could be found.
Amelia made sure her mother was comfortable and resting before changing her dress and washing up.
“You look much refreshed,” Nate said when she reappeared in the parlor.
“I feel refreshed. And look at that,” she said, looking around herself with exaggerated wonder. “Everyone seems to have gone out and left us alone for the time being.”
“Your mother is upstairs.”
“And unlikely to come down them and surprise us. This would be a perfect opportunity to kiss me, if you were so inclined.”
He reached up to cup her cheek in his palm. His hands were so large, and she so small, that his palm covered the side of her face, from her jaw to her hairline. Amelia loved it.
“I am always inclined to kiss you, even when I shouldn’t. Especially when I shouldn’t.”
She tugged on his lapels to bring his face closer. “Well, now you can whenever you want, as I’m yours.”
His lips curled in a rakish smile, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I very much like the sound of that.”
“And you’re mine. I’m resolved on that at last.”
“We settled it last night.”
She shook her head. “You did. But when I left your bed, I was determined to let you go.”
His eyebrows furrowed and his grip on her tightened. “Amelia—”
She pressed on, smoothing her palms down his lapels. “But today made it clear to me. I can’t live without you. I won’t. The consequences will simply have to be dealt with.”
Nate pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It will be all right. You’ll see.”
“Julia will never forgive me, and you’ll never manage to bring Lord Hyde around about the business now. I’m sorry, Nate. I’ve ruined everything.” He chuckled and she took a step back, sobering. How could he be taking this so lightly when he’d worked so hard for it? “It’s not funny. Your whole future rested on that alliance and now I’ve gone and mucked it up.”
A Common Scandal Page 24
