“I’m not much for the social whirl these days,” Lord Wakefield admitted. “Getting stagnant in my old age, but we conservatives have to stick together else the Whigs will have us all firmly to hell in a hand basket.”
Montrose laughed. “Quite so.”
Lord Wakefield clapped Nick on the shoulder in an uncharacteristic gesture of affection. “Are you acquainted with my youngest son?”
“By reputation only.” Lord Montrose nodded to Nick. “Although I feel as if I’ve known you for years. Amelia speaks highly of you.”
“And you,” Nicholas managed.
“Nicholas couldn’t be happier Lady Amelia has made such a wonderful match,” Lady Wakefield offered on Nick’s behalf.
Beside him, Jasper started choking on his punch. “Please excuse me. I appear to be having some difficulty.”
Nicholas imagined a thousand tortures as Jasper made his escape.
“So Montrose,” Lord Wakefield asked. “Where will you and your bride be staying once you’re married?”
While his parents were suitably distracted discussing how far away they could ship Amelia once she married, Nicholas made his escape as well. Everyone was focused on the happy couple, so no one batted an eye when he snuck out and up the stairs to find the one person besides Amelia he could count on to understand his misery.
When Lord Bellamy appeared beside her with two glasses in hand, Amelia had never been so happy to see someone in all her life. “Thank goodness.”
“How are you holding up?” Jasper asked her.
“Not well. There are so many people here, and I don’t know any of them.”
“Bold maneuver, inviting Lord and Lady Wakefield.”
“They’re here, too?” Amelia scowled. “It must have been Mother’s doing. She invited all sorts of people I’ve never even heard of. She’s desperate to rub everyone’s noses in my excellent match.”
To be honest, Amelia didn’t mind rubbing Lady Wakefield’s nose in the match a little. Nicholas’s mother had only ever come to the Bishop residence once, right after Nick had finished at Eton. She’d declared in no uncertain terms that her son would not be entertaining any romantic notions with a Bishop while she was alive. Not that it had been necessary to declare such a thing, but Nicholas’s mother had always been a little high strung.
“Apparently, Lord and Lady Wakefield are old friends with your fiancé.”
“Of course they are.” As far as Amelia could tell, Embry was friends with everyone in the British empire. The rest of her life flashed in front of her eyes; surrounded by strangers and bored to tears. For a second, the room wobbled as faintness stole the strength from her knees.
Two young women were standing a few feet away and scrutinizing her with an appalling lack of subtlety as they whispered behind their hands. At first, she thought they’d seen her falter, but then she heard what sounded like “horribly disfigured.”
Amelia would put up with a great deal, but not that. Never that. “Can I help you with something?”
They leaned together whispering before the older girl looked her over. She drew her fan through her hand—what had Julia said that meant? Something that wasn’t nice, but Amelia couldn’t remember exactly what.
“It’s a shame your sister couldn’t make it, though I can see why you hid her away. It must be so embarrassing.”
Amelia froze. By the time she shook herself out of it, Lord Bellamy had steered her away and over to the other side of the room.
“Did she…I—”
“Shh. Don’t make a scene for that vicious twit. Are you all right?”
She took a deep breath, brushing her fingers against the tightly rolled cylinder at her hairline. “Do you know who those women are?”
“Unfortunately. Olivia and Charlotte Chisholm, your fiancé’s cousins.”
Unbelievable. Relatives of Embry’s. Not only could she not go back and tell them how horrible they were, she would be stuck with those pit vipers for the rest of her life.
Starting right then. Embry had moved on from the Wakefields and was motioning for her to join him with his cousins. Amelia could think of nothing she wanted to do less.
“Another bold move, and this one you cannot blame on your mother.”
“Hmm?” Amelia was too busy glaring at the Chisholms.
“Blatantly ignoring the summons of one’s fiancée at one’s own engagement party. People are definitely starting to notice.”
Amelia looked around. Damn. He was right. Embry was frowning and the guests around him were definitely looking at her.
“Don’t make me go.”
“I would never. I love a good scene.”
Amelia swore under her breath. She excused herself to the sound of Jasper chuckling behind her.
“Lady Olivia. Miss Charlotte. May I introduce my fiancé, Miss Amelia Bishop?”
“We’ve met.” Amelia might not be able to avoid them, but she would be damned if she’d pretend to be cordial.
“Oh?”
Lady Olivia’s smile was pure ice. “We were asking her where her sister was. We were so looking forward to an introduction.”
“She’s not feeling well,” he lied.
Did he know, or was that just what her mother had told him?
Miss Charlotte joined the fray. “Isn’t she sick all the time? What difference does that make?”
Miss Olivia shuddered. “Can you imagine? What a burden.”
Embry frowned. “She’s a nice enough girl, if a bit limited.”
Limited? Amelia stared at Embry in disbelief.
“What a shame she couldn’t be here,” Charlotte said with transparent glee. “Although, can you imagine being overshadowed at your own engagement party by a cripple? Poor cousin Embry wouldn’t have a moment’s peace. It’s probably a relief.”
He stared down at his glass. “It is, a little.”
The sounds of the party went hazy in Amelia’s ears. “Embry?”
He had the decency to look uncomfortable. “I only mean, it’s easier. Not having to explain to everyone.”
Amelia felt the flush rising over her face. The giggles of Olivia and Charlotte drifted to her like they were coming through water. It was hard to breathe. Embry might have tried to say something, but she was already excusing herself, pushing her way through the throng and out into the hall.
Nick made his way to the room he knew was Julia’s. He’d had his own tree-climbing adventures, although—unlike Amelia—sense had prevailed and he’d restricted himself to the front doors by the time he turned twelve. He knocked quietly.
“Go away.”
It was definitely Julia’s voice. He ignored the sentiment and stepped inside. “I’d almost forgotten what the palace looked like. When did you get the elephants?” Nick brushed his hand across the backs of the waist-high gold sculptures as he crossed the room.
She turned in surprise, but then turned back to staring out at the garden below from the window seat. “Papa had them sent from India last year.”
“Another continent conquered by Lady Julia’s collection.” He sat opposite her, his back against the wall. She refused to look at him, so there was nothing stopping him from looking at her in detail.
If he was being objective, she was prettier than her sister. Julia’s features were perfectly classical, where Amelia’s were softer and slightly out of proportion. Not that it had ever mattered. From the first day he’d met Amelia Bishop, Nick hadn’t been able to see anyone else. Her lips might not make a perfect pout, but there was a genuineness to her smiles that spoke to Nick’s soul. Amelia took a quiet joy in the world that echoed his own. Julia was never content to sit still, never able to settle happily into silent contemplation. As a friend, Nick had a deep respect for Julia’s intelligence and sharp wit, but it was Amelia’s gentleness that had stolen his heart.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“That you and I never fell in love with each other. We’d both be weather
ing today much better if we had.”
Julia laughed, but there was no joy in it. “Fat lot of good it would have done. Amelia was born perfect and you still can’t face your parents for her. Your spine’s even worse off than mine.”
He couldn’t argue with her there. They settled for looking out the window in silence together.
“How’s the party?” she asked after a while.
“Awful.”
This time, her laugh had warmth. “Do the guests that aren’t you think that?”
“Probably not. Dolts.”
Her skirts rustled as she shifted over to his side of the platform. Nick lifted his arm, and she settled under it. This was how he knew. When Amelia leaned against him for comfort, every nerve in his body cried out in elation. In rightness. When Julia leaned against him, it only felt vaguely pleasant.
“I’m sorry my sister is marrying the wrong man.”
“No, you’re not.” He waited for her to say something else cutting, but it didn’t come.
Instead, she wiggled closer. “If it were a fair fight, I’d be on your side.”
“Thanks.”
“Thank you, for saying what you said. We’d be awful together, but thank you.”
“We wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Do you really want to spend the rest of your life losing at chess and horse races to your wife?”
Nicholas grinned. “How is that any different than me marrying Amelia?”
“She’s rubbish at chess.”
“Excellent rider, though.”
“Not better than me,” Julia said, sounding more like herself.
It was a subject of much debate between the sisters, but now wasn’t the time to argue Amelia’s side. Nick pressed a brotherly kiss to Julia’s forehead. “Not better than you.”
A shudder went through her, followed by a sniffle. Nick squeezed his arm around her shoulder tighter. There was nothing he could say. Nothing either of them could say.
When it passed, she inhaled a deep breath. “I’m not ready to lose her.”
“Neither am I.”
They sat there, taking comfort in each other’s presence as the garden lights flickered.
Eventually, Julia nudged him with her elbow. “You should go back down. People will notice you’re gone.”
“Wouldn’t that be the scandal of the century?” he said with a grin as he stood up, stretching the stiffness out of his limbs.
“Oh, to be at the center of a torrid scandal,” Julia said dreamily.
“Someday.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get out of my room, Wakefield.”
He left with a grin on his face and a much lighter step than he’d entered with—until he came down the stairs to find Amelia in the hallway, bent at the waist, taking deep, heaving breaths of panic.
“Mia? What’s the matter? What’s happened?”
She looked up, tears streaming down her face. “E-e-e-mbry…he said…awful things,” she choked out, before dissolving into more sobs.
Nicholas would kill the bastard. It was one thing to sit nobly by while she married a man who had a chance at making her happy, but Amelia was clearly not happy.
“It’s all right. Everything will be fine.” Nicholas’s arms wrapped around her by reflex. He didn’t know what else to do. He felt helpless.
“You two had better not be getting all calf-eyed again.” Jasper came around the corner. “Bloody hell. What’s happened?”
“You were there, you tell me. Apparently, Montrose is responsible. Will you stay with her? There’s something I have to do.” Specifically, beat the man to a pulp.
Amelia grabbed his sleeve. “You can’t. Your p-parents. You know what people will say.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“Yes, you do.”
Jasper looked between the two of them. “Well?”
If he rushed back into the ballroom and called Montrose out, it would be the talk of the county. The talk of London as well. Nicholas swore. “She’s right. I can’t.”
“Right. It’s to me, then.” He turned on his heel and went back the way he came.
It wasn’t long before a collection of screams and shocked gasps rang out. Nicholas raced down the hallway with Amelia in tow. They arrived in time to see Montrose being helped up off the floor, holding his jaw. One of the men Nicholas didn’t know was restraining Jasper by his shoulders.
“What the devil?” Lord Bishop shouted.
“Tapped him on the shoulder and decked him,” someone said from behind him.
“A lodestone for scandal, that Lord Bellamy. You’d think a duke’s heir would behave better,” someone else said.
“Shall I expect a call from your second?” Jasper asked, not caring who heard.
Montrose finally caught sight of Amelia, taking in her red complexion and puffy eyes. His face fell. “No. I was in the wrong. I thank you for pointing it out to me.”
That set off a tidal wave of speculation that filled the entire room with murmuring.
Beside him, Amelia was finally coming back to herself. She pulled her hand from his. “I think you’d better take Lord Bellamy and go.”
They couldn’t be seen holding hands, but he couldn’t help reaching for her. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine now.” Amelia stepped away from him, speaking up over the crowd. “In fact, I think you should all take your leave. There’s been quite enough excitement for one party.”
Lady Bishop rushed forward. “Amelia.”
“I mean it, Mother. The party is over. Thank you, everyone, for coming.”
There was nothing else to do but collect Jasper from his captor and head for the door.
“I can’t believe you hit him,” Nicholas said as they collected their hats.
“I can’t believe you didn’t.” Jasper slung his coat over his shoulder and sauntered out to the drive.
Amelia closed the door to the drawing room. The last of the guests were having their carriages brought around, and it was just her and Embry in the one room that hadn’t been taken over by the engagement madness. She picked up a book with almost every page corner folded over, one of her favorites. Even Julia enjoyed it. They read it aloud when there was nothing better to do.
Embry was watching her, but she didn’t know what to say to him. Someone had found him a cold compress for his face. A terrible part of her hoped they hadn’t found it soon enough. She wouldn’t mind watching him try to explain a bruise.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I shouldn’t have agreed with my cousins when they were being cruel about your sister.”
She nodded. He certainly shouldn’t have.
“You’re perfectly right to be upset. She’ll be my sister, too, once we’re wed, and it’s my duty to—”
Amelia set the book down. “I don’t think we should get married.”
The words fell out of her mouth before she realized what she intended to say, but once they were out there she didn’t want to take them back. They felt right. She didn’t want to marry Embry.
“Amelia, don’t be rash. I behaved badly, but I am sorry.” Embry reached for her.
She moved out of his reach. “I’m not being rash. I don’t think we suit each other.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It was one mistake! It’s not reason enough to break off an engagement.”
“I disagree.” Here in this room, surrounded by the little pieces of history from the life she loved with her family, Amelia didn’t feel ridiculous at all. “And it’s not my only reason. It’s just the most recent one.”
Confusion washed over his face, followed by a dawning realization. “Wakefield. You have feelings for him.”
“What?”
He couldn’t possibly know about her tingle dilemma, so he had no business making that sort of accusation. Friendship and a general sort of curiosity about what kissing him might be like were no grounds for that.
“Your mother warned me there was likely more to it than childhood affect
ion.”
Her mother. Could that woman not leave well enough alone? “Nicholas and I are just friends.”
Embry shook his head. “Not anymore. I saw him holding your hand when you came into the ballroom. His intentions can’t be honorable, given his behavior, and it is my duty as your future husband to save you from these sorts of grievous errors in judgement.”
“You’re not going to be my husband. I’m calling off our engagement.”
His face stiffened with resolve. “No. I won’t accept it.”
“You don’t have a choice!” Thank goodness she was finding out about this high-handed behavior now, and not after she’d made the mistake of marrying him. To think she’d almost left her family for this.
“I think I do. If you break off our engagement, I shall sue you for breach of promise.”
Amelia stepped back, shock taking over her face. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, to save you from yourself.”
Of all the pompous, asinine sentiments. She didn’t need saving. “Fine. Do it. Papa has plenty of money.”
Embry sighed. “He won’t when I’m finished with him. Public opinion is not in your favor. I will take your parents for everything they’re worth, and once you’ve experienced the cold reality of poverty and what it means for your family, especially for your sister, you’ll see sense.”
Amelia couldn’t be hearing him correctly. “You’re threatening to hold my family hostage?”
“Please, Amelia. I don’t want to do it, but you’re clearly not thinking rationally.”
She couldn’t breathe. It didn’t take much imagination to envision how awful things would be for Julia without the insulating benefits of wealth. They would not be able to hide away from the cruel and malicious opinions of general society. The specialists Papa hired would be impossible to afford. Any and all hope of someday discovering a progressive solution would be gone.
Amelia sucked in a deep breath, shaking her head. “You don’t want to do this, Embry. You deserve someone who wants to marry you.”
“You’re young. This is cold feet and it will pass.” He put his hands on her shoulders and this time she was too shocked to move away. “I know you’re angry with me, but in time you’ll see that I’m doing the right thing.”
The Importance of Being Scandalous Page 8