"I do suppose it is too much to hope that he will come in search of a bride. Or that he would prefer one with a brain." There was a wistful note in Diana's voice, but one that Amelia could not fault her for. Like Amelia herself, Diana was also no longer a young debutante and her chances of securing a match were fading with each passing season, even if her looks were not.
How a true diamond of the first water like Diana was still unmarried baffled Amelia, and she felt a strange kinship with the other woman. Neither of them, it seemed, possessed what the young men of the ton were looking for. In Amelia's case, it was understandable, but Diana was a true beauty with a sweet nature. Then again, it seemed as if she valued something more than looks as well. She apparently valued intelligence, much to her credit.
"News travels so fast these days, does it not?" Amelia shook her head, uncertain what else to say for she knew nothing of the viscount in question. "Why, I had no idea there was even a house party underway at Blackstone as well," she said referring to the estate of the Earl of Devonmont, "and such a scandalous one as all that."
Diana took a sip of her claret before replying. "And were it not for that delightful Bow Street Runner, Harry Greer, we would still be unawares. Imagine! A true Cinderella story for a couple so in love." The other woman sighed wistfully. "And the wedding tomorrow evening will be magical, I am certain."
When the afore mentioned Runner had appeared on the steps of Weatherby Hall earlier in the day bearing news for Lord Reynolds, the Duke of Hathaway, most of the invited guests took no note of the man. After all, he was not of their class. Diana had apparently noticed him, however, along with several other females in attendance and had grilled him mercilessly for details of the Devonmont house party and the scandal that had occurred when Lord Sebastian St. Giles, the Earl of Covington, had not proposed to Elizabeth Ashford, Devonmont's younger daughter, as expected, but had instead been caught compromising the ton's most infamous spinster, "Plain" Jane Ashford, Devonmont's elder daughter. That Covington had been in love with Jane all along had made the story that much more romantic.
At least to the women currently residing at Weatherby Hall, anyway. Even Amelia had to admit that she was happy for the couple and that it was a wonderful story of a lovematch triumphing over a political one. Just as it should be.
"I am sure it will be," Amelia agreed, secretly longing for her own wedding to the man she loved, foolish as that was. In truth, it was more likely that a heard of African elephants would come rampaging through David's grand ballroom before a wedding between her and David would occur. "Though I do not know the earl, I have met Lady Jane several times and she is a lovely woman. It is refreshing to see true love win out over politics."
Amelia watched as Diana's eyes roamed the room before alighting briefly on Lord Adam Reynolds, the man the Runner had arrived to see. "It is indeed." Again, that same wistful note laced Diana's voice making Amelia wonder if the young woman had feelings for the duke. Well, she would not be the first. There were many women of the ton who hoped to land the dashing duke for their own.
"Well, there will be no wedding here," Amelia said brightly, attempting to change the subject. "Not this year at any rate."
That made Diana smile for some reason, as if she knew a secret that Amelia did not. "Ah, but there could be. I have seen the way our host looks at you, Lady Amelia. I do believe that the earl is infatuated with you."
"He is not." That was Amelia's automatic reply whenever it was suggested that there was an attachment between her and David. It happened more often than not, though she reasoned that it was only because they were old friends. "We have known each other for decades. That is all."
"Yet his eyes follow you," Diana said a bit too smugly for Amelia's liking, making her uncomfortable in her own skin. David did not watch her. Did he? "He watches you, is ever conscious of where you are in a room and notices when you depart. And do not think that the others have not noticed, Lady Lydia in particular."
Glancing up, Amelia was surprised to find David's eyes on her even now from across the room, but then she quickly dismissed the thought that it was because he was infatuated with her. That was Diana's way of thinking, not hers. "I am merely helping him ascertain whether or not the women of the house party are enjoying themselves. It is a request from an old friend. He is a bachelor after all, and is afraid that he has put too much emphasis on manly activities."
This time, Diana laughed brightly, causing several heads to turn in their direction. "And if you honestly believe that bit of rubbish, my dear, you are not nearly so clever as I think you are."
Once she said it, the mere suggestion that David needed her help sounded foolish, even to Amelia's own ears. Diana was right on that count. However, despite the fact that Amelia liked the other woman well enough, she did not quite trust Diana to reveal the truth to her. Amelia did not quite believe David's motives either, and hadn't from the moment he had escorted her back into the ballroom when everyone had turned to stare at them, the bluestocking on the arm of the infamous bachelor and sometimes rake.
In her heart, Amelia believed that it was really all a plan to thwart Lady Lydia's plans to ensnare David into marriage. For the chit was beyond eager. As was her mother. If that was the case, then Amelia didn't mind so much. It allowed her to spend time with David, time she might not otherwise have.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps he has other, more nefarious plans in mind." Amelia scoffed at the possibility, even though she had meant the statement as a joke. "Either way, he is my friend, one of the few that I have, and I will do as he asks."
Diana studied Amelia for a moment, as if seeing the other woman for the first time. Then, she smiled, a real and true smile that lit up her eyes. "I am ashamed to say that I did not give friendship with you as much consideration as I should have in the past, much to my detriment. You are a quick wit, Lady Amelia, and very refreshing, even if, in this case anyway, you are wrong."
For the second time that evening, Amelia laughed. Just as she had with David. "I feel the same. Well, about the friendship part, anyway." And she did. Amelia had spent so much time hiding from those in Society that she was certain would disparage her, she had not given much thought to the fact that there were others who might not laugh at her, others who might become true friends.
"Friends then?" Diana held out her hand, much like a man would, another thing about her that Amelia found she liked. There was no pretense with this woman, only genuine warmth.
"Friends," Amelia agreed, marveling at the changes that had occurred within her in such a short period of time. First standing up to Lady Lydia and now forming a friendship with Lady Diana. What was next? Seducing the earl?
Then she paused. Perhaps that was not such a bad idea after all. She had thought to use this remaining few hours and into the next day to attempt to get David to notice her as a desirable woman. Why not push the bounds of propriety further and attempt to seduce him? If she did not, she feared she might lose the chance forever.
"And as a friend, might I offer you a suggestion?" Diana was looking at her expectantly, and Amelia suddenly found that she was extremely willing to listen.
"Of course."
Diana gently pulled Amelia aside behind a towering pine tree that had been brought indoors and decorated with all manner of fruits and sweetmeats that were to be stripped off and eaten the next night.
"Lord Weatherby is enamored of you. I have watched the two of you dance around each other for the last week and more, well into last season. Each time he enters a room, you leave. Yet he sees you depart, his eyes following you, watching you. Hungering for you. I do not know much of men, but I recognize their hunger for a woman when I see it."
Amelia wanted to correct her new friend, but she did not dare. Instead she merely nodded. "Go on."
"And I have watched you as well. You gaze at him when you think no one is looking, sigh in despair when he dances with another." Diana laid a hand on Amelia's arm. "As someone who loves a man who does not love
her in return, I recognize the signs all too well. And while I cannot change my own course, I believe that I can help you change yours."
The protest she was about to make died on Amelia's lips the instant she fully processed Diana's words. No one had ever offered to help her with anything, let alone snaring a man. In particular the earl. Few had even offered to be her friend. And Amelia did want David so very, very much.
"So what do you suggest?" Amelia finally asked. "It is not as if I can strip myself naked for him." Though she might be willing to if she thought it might produce the results she desired.
"You can be enticing." Diana pulled on Amelia's hand, turning the other woman's attention back to her and not at the earl. "You can make him look at you and want to bed you, not that I believe his thoughts do not travel in that direction already. But you can let him know you are interested in the same thing." Critically, she eyed Amelia's gown. "This frock is fine for a young debutante, but for a woman who wants to entice a man? It is far too modest."
Amelia looked down at her gown and then at Diana's. The other woman wore a blush colored confection that showed off her figure to every advantage, including the tops of her breasts. The bit of gold lace at the bottom indicated that it was a Madame LaVallier creation. Amelia was not permitted to wear such scandalous frocks. But she wanted to. Very much.
In comparison, Amelia's cream-colored gown was flat and dull, the neckline too high and the overall fit unflattering. Was her wardrobe part of her problem with men and society in general? She wanted to say no, but the intelligent part of her knew that it was. She did not dress to entice as other women did. She did not display herself to her best advantage, her hair too severe and her look too plain.
She dressed how her mother instructed her, always believing that if a man was interested in her, he would overlook her middling image. But what if her mother had been wrong? What if the only men who could overlook her appearance were the fortune hunters, men so desperate for money that they would marry any woman, no matter how ugly she was? For Amelia had to admit that, while she had convinced herself she was no different than the other young ladies of the ton, she was, in reality extremely dowdy. Not ugly or hideous. She did have decent looks. She simply did nothing to enhance them.
"I see your point," Amelia finally conceded. "But what am I to do? The house party ends tomorrow evening and I have no other gowns to wear. I do not think even the great Madame LaVallier can work that sort of miracle. And I need to speak with the earl before we retire for the night, on a matter of some urgency. Now, I am not certain that I can, at least not looking as I do." Then she sighed and looked over to where David stood leaning against the hearth, engaged in deep conversation with the Duke of Hathaway.
Diana's gaze followed Amelia's, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Leave that to me, my friend. Leave that part all to me."
David paced back and forth in his library, the clock ticking away the minutes faster than he would have liked. Where was the blasted woman? How could he seduce her if she was back to hiding from him again? He had thought that issue resolved when he had asked for her help gathering the women's opinions on the house party. Was he wrong?
He had seen her disappear from the ballroom with Lady Diana Saintwood moments after he had sent her a note asking her to meet him in the library once the festivities ended for the evening. He had thought she would use her departure with Lady Diana to sneak off to the library unseen. Had he been wrong? Had Diana done something to Amelia to prevent her from meeting him? It would not be the first time he had underestimated the cleverness of a woman when she desired something, particularly if that something was him. Though really, he had thought Diana had eyes only for Lord Hathaway. Had he been wrong about that, too?
Then the library doors opened with a soft squeak and David forgot to breathe, the very breath stolen from his chest.
Amelia was a goddess. She had been lovely before but now? Now she was breathtaking, the most magnificent creature he had ever laid eyes on.
Her fair skin - and a great deal of it, much to his delight - was showcased to perfection, the tops of her creamy breasts nearly spilling out of the exquisitely form fitting gown she wore. It was the color of claret and clung lovingly to her curves. When she turned to close the doors behind her, he saw that it dipped nearly as low in the back with a row of tiny golden buttons the only thing that held it closed.
This was not her gown, for if she had possessed such a frock, he would have known about it. Though where she had procured it was of little concern to him. All that mattered was that she looked as if she was bent on seduction - his seduction if he had anything to say about it.
"David." Her voice was soft, as it always was, but this time, there was a note of something coy in it. He should have minded. After all, how many women had attempted to seduce him in this very manner over the years? Except that this was Amelia and he knew her better than that. He also knew that he would not mind seduction at her hands. In fact, he would relish it.
"Amelia. You look...exquisite." That was not the right word, for her appearance nearly brought him to tears, but it was the only one his muddled mind could come up with on such short notice.
Glancing down, she brushed her hands over the front of the gown. "Thank you. Some of the ladies were exchanging fashion tips abovestairs. I know that I do not normally partake in such activities, but since you had asked me to ascertain how the women viewed this house party..." She trailed off, well aware that she was rambling.
She was also a bit self-conscious. He could see it in the way she moved. She was unaccustomed to wearing frocks that displayed her attributes so well, but in his opinion, she should never return to her dowdy gowns that hid her ample charms ever again. He had fallen in love with the mouse, but the lioness now standing before him made his cock harden to the point of pain.
"It is very kind of you to do so." He crossed to her in a few strides and then before he led her deeper into the room, made certain to lock the doors so they would not be disturbed. "You need not have made the sacrifice on my account."
If she noticed his actions, she did not comment on them. Instead, she moved further into the room, which he had made certain was cloaked in shadows well before she arrived. He had wanted the room to appear warm and inviting, a fire crackling merrily in the hearth so that she might feel relaxed in his presence, open to a kiss. Or maybe more if she desired.
The very idea that she might come here clad for seduction had never entered his mind. He had to remember to thank Lady Diana in the morning, for he was now certain this was her handiwork.
"It was no hardship," Amelia said as her eyes took in the room. It had changed little over the years that she had been visiting Weatherby Hall. The massive old oak desk still sat against the bank of windows, which were now covered with heavy green drapes to keep out the cold. The walls of the room soared to two stories with ladders placed here and there, providing access to a small balcony running around the length and breadth of the room where the second floor would have begun so that one could reach the books found there. And, to her delight, David owned a great many books.
A leather chair, one of the few remaining from David's grandfather's era sat behind the desk while the rest of the room was dotted with comfortable chairs and couches clad in forest green damask to match the drapes. A long, low fainting couch was pushed against one wall and opposite it, currently hiding behind the window coverings, was a small seat where one could curl up with a good book on a rainy summer day, something she and David had done often in their youth.
She felt rather than saw David pour them each a drink, brandy for her and a scotch for him before coming to stand beside her, drinks in hand.
"Still, it was more than what I had asked of you. I know how uncomfortable you are with Society women." He clinked the cut crystal glass against hers and she watched it sparkle in the fire's light. "You deserve high praise for your efforts."
Quickly she took a sip, unused to his effusive words. "Actually? I
enjoyed myself. I did not think I would." That was the truth. She had enjoyed sitting still under Lady Diana's ministrations, so much more delicate than her own lady's maid's were, while she was transformed with surprisingly little effort from a mouse into an enticing lady.
"I am glad then. I would never do anything to cause you discomfort, Amelia. Surely you know that by now." Then he fell silent, reaching out only to part the drapes a bit so that they might watch the light snow that had begun to fall at some point earlier in the evening. Now, the ground was dusted in a fine white power that sparkled like so many diamonds or crystals strewn about.
"You are a good friend, David," Amelia said finally, the words coming easier now as the brandy loosed her tongue a bit. "Any man would be lucky to count himself among yours."
He turned to her, raising an eyebrow before grinning at her, relishing the idea of teasing her a bit more. "And women?"
"Women and men are not often friends." She replied so softly that he barely heard her.
"But we are." There was a undercurrent to his words, one she could not decipher. "Or am I wrong?"
Slowly, she took another sip of brandy, feeling the slide of the liquid down her throat and the answering slide of languid heat along her limbs. "You are not. In fact, I would count you as my closest friend, odd as that sounds." She had no idea why she was admitting this. Though she was always honest with David, she did not speak of such things. Ever. It was not ladylike or proper. So perhaps it was the late hour or the brandy or the new gown that gave her the confidence, but whatever the reason, she felt her tongue loosening all the more.
"That is excellent news then," he said, placing his glass on the desk, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight. "For I count you as my closest friend as well." He turned to her and there was a heat in his eyes that she had not seen there before. One of passion and desire. Or perhaps she was only imagining it.
The Earl Who Loved Me (Tales From Seldon Park: The Short Stories Book 1) Page 4
