Together they had ridden to the small stream that marked the border between Weatherby Hall and Fallstaff Grange, a light snow beginning to fall around them. Chatting as the old friends that they were, they had rested the horses for a bit, flirtation and a great deal of innuendo passing between them.
In her dark blue riding habit, Amelia looked decidedly lovely, though he had already long since concluded that she would look better in nothing but her own skin in his bed. Still, he could appreciate the fine feminine form that she cut as she walked her horse to the stream for a drink, her eyes dancing merrily as she laughed at some silly joke of his.
As they had remounted, him helping her back into her saddle with ease, she had proposed a race. They would canter easily until the reached the now frozen lake that led off towards Lord Enwright's property and then, for the final mile back to Weatherby Hall, they would race. The loser owed the winner a forfeit. He was never gladder to have won a contest in his life than he was at that very moment, relishing the flush of Amelia's cheeks and knowing precisely what he wanted for his prize.
"It was exhilarating, wasn't it?" he agreed easily swinging down from his mount, a large black stallion that looked more fearsome than he truly was. When he had his feet beneath him, he reached up to help Amelia down as the grooms rushed out to collect the horses and see to their care. "I have not done that in ages."
"That is a pity," she said with a laugh. "I also suppose that is the reason you only beat me by a nose. Had I more time in the saddle, I am certain I could have bested you." It was common knowledge that Amelia's father, Lord Hollinworth, did not return to the country as often as others of his class, primarily because he was often engaged in matters of parliament that required more attention than an average peer gave matters of the state.
Though he was only an earl, the Hollinworth title was a long and distinguished one, and since his heir - Amelia's brother Cecil - was well settled with a family of his own and already tending to much of the estate business, there was little else for Amelia's father to do but remain in Town to take care of parliamentary business.
David knew that Lady Hollinworth did not mind, preferring the bright, glittering parties of London to the quiet of the country. Amelia, however, felt differently and had always sought every opportunity to return to Fallstaff Grange, even if it was only to help care for her nieces and nephews on the occasion that Cecil was in residence.
She was at home here as well, he decided, which was perfect because if he had his way, after this evening, it would be her home as well as his.
"Still, I believe that I won, my lady," he said, well aware that the servants gossiped. He did not want tales of an improper courtship - albeit a brief one - turning up on the lips of every guest that night as they gathered for dinner. Where he hoped that he would propose to Amelia and she would accept. "And that means that I have the right to demand my forfeit."
Amelia glared at him, but he could tell by the smile on her lips she did not mean it. This was Amelia as she was meant to be. This was all of her, ever facet to her personality on full display. Shy and circumspect when necessary, but playful and bold at other moments. He had always known she was a complex creature, even as a young child. However until last night when she had come willingly into his arms, he had not known precisely how complex. Or how delightfully delicious.
"Fine." Amelia was feeling more than a little flirtatious, something inside of her awakening to the joys of seduction the longer she was in David's presence. This was not like her. Normally, she hid or held herself away from the others, but last night, when she had strengthened her spine and stood up to Lady Lydia, something inside of her had shifted. She had become bolder, not because she wanted to be but because she had to be. It had been necessary.
Now she was wondering why she had not done so sooner.
"What do you wish, my lord?" she asked as she took his proffered arm and allowed him to lead her into the manor house "Do you wish a kiss under the mistletoe?" After last night, she was more than willing to grant him that, especially if he made her feel as delightfully wanton as he had in front of the library's cozy fire last evening. "Or might I tempt you with something else?"
He seemed to consider her question for a moment, though she was fairly certain he already knew what he wanted to ask for. "An afternoon with you, Lady Amelia. The two of us. Alone. Where no one can find us. Time for us to speak about things we have not but perhaps should have."
She frowned and he could tell that was not what she had expected. "But your guests..."
"Will survive quite well enough without me," he finished for her, tapping her lightly on the nose. "They are lovely people, but they are only here for respectability. Surely you know that by now."
That only made her frown all the more. "I do not take your meaning, my lord. Respectability?"
"A bachelor such as myself cannot very well have a house party with only one guest, you see. No matter how much he might prefer her company to that of all others." He helped Amelia off with the jacket to her riding habit and handed it to a waiting footman who hovered near the door, ready to assists the guests as they wandered in and out of the cold. When the footman departed with their outer clothing, David pulled Amelia close to whisper in her ear. "Especially when that preferred guest is a lovely young woman that I wish to marry. And bed. Not necessarily in that order."
Amelia fairly glowed at the compliment, her skin flushing red and a heat creeping up her face. Yesterday, she would have thought that David did not mean the words he spoke, however sincere he might seem. That he was merely being kind and considerate. Today? Well today she rather thought he might. It had been less than a day but already, she felt as if the blinders she had worn most of her life were falling away and she could finally see the sincerity of David's words. He did care about her. He did want to marry her. And out of more than just pity it seemed.
"Well, isn't this cozy?" The icy feminine voice cut through the front hall freezing Amelia where she stood. "Two lovers engaged in an intimate conversation."
"Sheath your claws, Lady Lydia," David warned as he turned to face the woman who had clearly been awaiting their return. "Unlike some others, I do not fear you or your mother. My family has far more influence with the Lady Jerseys of our world than you ever will."
So. David knew about the Lydia's threats to her. Not entirely unsurprising, given the way gossip spread.
Standing before them in a deep, plum colored gown, her attributes on full display, Lady Lydia looked beyond furious. "All I asked for was a chance to win you for my own." There was anger in her tone and something dark and more than a little dangerous. "Yet I was denied at every turn."
"I denied you because all you wanted to win was the title of Countess of Weatherby," David said, his posture stiff and unyielding. "You did not want me. I could have been a bridge troll for all you cared, so long as I was wealthy and titled."
"Why else do men and women marry?" she tossed back easily, bushing at her skirts. "It is not as if love is a consideration. Power. Alliances. Those are key to succeeding in our world, as I am certain you are aware."
Two days ago, this conversation would have shocked Amelia but her eyes had been opened quite a bit since then. She would no longer scurry away like the mouse she had been.
"My parents married for love," David replied softly, his voice low and dangerous as well. If Lydia noticed, she did not let on. "I made it clear long ago that I would do the same. Warm flesh and an inviting smile do not tempt me to the alter, Lady Lydia. You should have learned that by now."
"You will go willingly if I threaten to destroy her." Lydia's glance strayed to Amelia and for a moment she felt like shrinking back in upon herself the way she would have only mere days ago. "I am certain there is something the meek little mouse is hiding." Lydia laughed cruelly. "And I shall find it. When I do, you will be begging me to marry you, Lord Weatherby, if only to save your silly little chit from disgrace. If she is not already somebody's mistress by then,
though who would want her I cannot fathom. And if you do not marry me after all of that, I will destroy you as well, Lord Weatherby. Do not think I won't."
At Lydia's words, something snapped inside of Amelia. Something hot and angry and furious, burning like a fire that raged out of control. It was one thing to threaten her. She was used to it after all. She had survived much worse and would continue to do so, a forgotten mouse tucked into a corner of the ballrooms of London, passed by and never looked at twice.
But the horrid woman would not threaten the man that Amelia loved.
In that instant, Amelia realized that she did not need another day. Nor did she need another week or a month or even another hour. What had she been waiting for? She loved David. She could not remember a time when she did not. That would not change. Not tonight or tomorrow or the next day or the one after that.
And he loved her. Over the years he had shown her repeatedly that he did. Last night, he had proven it to her with his kiss, his foolish plan meant to keep her by his side, and more than that, by the way he had forced himself to stop from completely ravishing her before the fire when she had begged him to continue.
It had been difficult for him, but he had stopped because he knew that she would regret her actions in the morning. And he loved her enough to know that about her. He loved her enough that he knew all of her. He loved her when she was a plain mouse but he also loved her when she was a lovely and defiant lioness.
He might not have spoken the words aloud, but she still knew. Her heart knew.
And it was time that she did something about it.
"Do you really think yourself so powerful, Lady Lydia?" Amelia could see the look of surprise in Lydia's eyes when she finally spoke. "You and your mother might be friends with Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper, but my father has the ear of the Prince Regent himself, not to mention many respected members of Parliament and their wives. I feel certain that my family has a bit more sway with the elite of London than you would suspect."
Stepping out from behind David, it was Amelia's turn to stick her nose in the air. Just a bit. Because she could. Because she was feeling like a lioness at the moment. "And if that alone is not enough? Then trust me when I assure you that those in the highest reaches of Society would not dare cut the Earl of Weatherby or his wife. They would not dare risk raising his ire, or that of his friends. Or have you forgotten that the earl counts the Duke of Enwright, the Duke of Candlewood, and the Duke of Radcliffe among his closest friends?
That statement gave Lady Lydia pause and she turned to David, her eyes wide. "I did not know."
"Nor did you ask," he growled gruffly. "All you saw was a prize you were denied. You know nothing of me save for my title and how many new gowns my fortune can buy you."
"But my lord, I only meant..." Lydia was trying desperately to undo the damage she had inadvertently wrought. Not that it would help. Amelia knew that David would have nothing to do with Lady Lydia or her family in the future. He was far too furious.
"You meant to have your way, as you always do," Amelia cut in, ready to end this farce. "But in the future, I would thank you to keep your grasping claws away from the man who is to be my husband."
In the stunned silence of the entryway, one could have heard a pin drop, or, at the very least, a spoon.
Lady Lydia's skin took on a rather sick pallor at Amelia's announcement. "Your husband? You two are to marry?" She looked back and forth in horror between David and Amelia. "I did not... That is, I had no idea..." Slowly she began backing away.
"We are to marry tonight, just before the grand ball." David stepped forward now and slipped Amelia's hand into his protectively. She could tell from the smile on his face that he was beyond pleased. "I have already procured a special license, done before we left Town for the winter holiday." She felt the light but steady pressure on her hand where it met his. "I had decided I could no longer go on without her by my side. Surely you would understand and wish us both happy."
When Lydia did not immediately reply, Amelia tilted her head to the side. "Or must the other guests learn that you are attempting to defy both convention and society and come between a betrothed couple? That will not look very good for you, I am afraid. Not even Lady Jersey's influence could help you if you were to be viewed in such a negative light." In truth, Amelia would not carry out such a threat. That was not something she could do in good conscience. However, she did mean to scare Lydia enough that the other woman would leave them alone.
"No." Lydia shook her head, her lips pressed into a tight line. "I would not do such a thing. Please. My best wishes to you both." Then she was gone, scurrying down the corridor like a frightened rabbit.
When he was certain she was gone, David turned back to Amelia. "Your husband? I was not aware that I had properly proposed." However, she could tell he was not angry, but merely teasing.
"You haven't. Yet." It was Amelia who teased now. "But last night, you intimated that you would. Were I amenable to the idea of marriage to you, of course."
"And are you?" He looked a little worried now, as if he did not quite believe what he was hearing. "I know this is sudden."
Amelia shook her head in disagreement. "And yet not. In some ways, I feel as if I have been waiting for this morning for a lifetime." Then she clasped her hands in front of her. "And to answer your question, David, yes. I am very, very amenable."
At that, David sank to one knee in front of her, heedless of who was witnessing the event. "Well then. Lady Amelia Banbrook, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife this evening? I would be ever so honored if you did."
Seeing David kneeling before her, looking devastatingly handsome and yet so completely uncertain at the same time, there was, of course, only one answer she could give.
"Yes, David. Yes. A thousand times yes!"
Amelia was quite certain that his whoop of joy could be heard all the way to the neighboring estates and beyond. And she knew precisely how he felt for she wanted to cry with joy as well.
Her dreams were coming true. She was marrying the man she loved. There could be no greater gift in this holiday season. Or none that she could imagine anyway.
Chapter Five
"The ceremony was lovely," Lady Amelia Banbrook, now Lady Amelia Rutledge, Countess of Weatherby, remarked as she glanced shyly at her husband of only a few hours.
"You are lovely, my darling countess," David replied, coming behind her to drop a kiss on her bare shoulder. "That dress suits you. I am rather pleased that Lady Diana is allowing you to keep it. The two of you seem to have become fast friends in a very short time."
Admiring herself in the long mirror once more, Amelia had to agree with her new husband. "We are friends. Good ones, I think. And yes, the dress is lovely, though I do feel bad about it. She has never worn it."
"And likely never would have. It does not suit her. But it suits you." Standing behind her, Amelia could see David's reflection in the mirror, his hands on her shoulders as he started at her hungrily. "Scarlet really is your color, my darling. We must remember that when we return to London in the spring to procure your new wardrobe."
"Hmmm." Though she did not particularly want a new wardrobe, she would not disagree with David if he wanted to buy her a few new things. And she did feel positively decadent in the scarlet silk, the fabric clinging to her body the way the other dresses Diana had loaned her did - as if they were made for her.
Amelia knew she should have refused the gift but when Diana, her face alight with happiness for her new friend, had made the offer there was no way Amelia could have refused. Especially since she had needed something new, or at the very least more colorful to wear to her wedding. It wasn't as if any of them had planned this after all. Or perhaps David had. He had returned to the country with a special license in his pocket after all.
In fact, when David and Amelia had entered the drawing room hand in hand, several of the guests rose instantly to congratulate them on their impending nuptials - when
ever they were to occur. When David had announced that they were to be wed that very night, the other guests had nodded as if they had known all the time that something like this would happen and that the house party was merely a ruse for a wedding celebration.
He hadn't planned it, of course, though he had hoped. Still, when Lady Colebrooke appeared to have been about to speak up, presumably in an attempt to change David's mind about the marriage and to consider Lydia instead, he had announced that yes, he had indeed planned the surprise wedding. He also relished informing everyone with great glee that he and Amelia had been affianced since the night of Lord Ardenton's wedding, but, given the high number of weddings already among their set, they did not wish to spoil their friends' joy and had decided to keep their own betrothal quiet for a bit.
As the kitchens at Weatherby Hall had already been preparing for a great Twelfth Night feast, there was little more to do to add a small wedding cake to the desserts being prepared for the evening. When pressed about the issue, Amelia had said that she knew not everyone liked cake and thought that a selection of desserts, especially considering the holiday, might be a better choice.
Regardless of whether they agreed or not, all of the guests nodded amiably, saying how clever the new Countess of Weatherby was and how it was such a wonderful thing for her to think of her guests' comfort first before her own wishes. As the evening progressed, they also remarked at how lovely the wedding was and how they had never seen a more beautiful bride.
Not that Amelia could remember much of the evening so far. There was the rushed arrival of the parson of the local church, of course, brought in especially for the ceremony. There had been the wedding feast, followed by a mix of dancing and the usual Twelfth Night revelry. Perhaps it was not the done thing to be married on a night such as this one, but, given the looks that passed between her parents, Amelia also knew that if she did not marry David that night, she would be forced to leave with them in the morning, something she very much did not want to do.
The Earl Who Loved Me (Tales From Seldon Park: The Short Stories Book 1) Page 6
