A Secret Proposal

by Valerie Bowman

  Tears streamed down Amelia’s face. Her shoulders shook. “And the other man, Paul’s opponent. He didn’t…he didn’t fire into the air too, did he?”

  Thad’s jaw was clenched tightly. “No. He didn’t. He shot at Paul.” Thad took a long, ragged breath. “But he missed.”

  Amelia’s head snapped up. “What? What can you mean? If he missed, what happened?”

  Thad slowly expelled his breath. “We were all walking back to the carriages—honor had been satisfied, after all, and to be honest, Paul and I were relieved it was over. But as we walked back, I said something. Something I’ll always regret.”

  Amelia’s shaky hand went to her throat again. “What happened, Thad?” The words tripped out of her dry throat.

  “I called the man a coward…for firing at Paul.”

  Amelia closed her eyes. Oh, God. “And then?”

  “His friend challenged me. But not to a duel, the pistols were already fired. He challenged me to a fight. A bare-knuckled fight, right then and there.”

  Amelia’s whole body shook. “And you fought him?”

  “Yes. We fought. And when it was obvious that I wasn’t going to win, was mostly likely going to die in fact, Paul stepped in and tried to fight for me.”

  Amy shook her head. “No. No,” she whispered.

  “The first bloke stepped forward. He was a huge man, a bruiser. There had been a chance against him at pistols, but in a fight, there was no reason to think Paul or I could best him.”

  Tears streamed down Amelia’s face.

  “It was over quickly.” Thad bowed his head. “The man only took a few swings at Paul before he hit him so hard his neck snapped.”

  “No!” Amelia doubled over. She wanted to vomit. Paul, her beloved Paul, had been beaten to death. She’d had no idea. She’d always believed he’d been shot.

  Thad’s voice was quiet. “Dr. Murdock couldn’t do anything. It was too late, and the two men took off immediately, leaving me a bloody pile on the field. I crawled over to Paul’s body and I…” He took a shaky breath. “I wept like a baby, Amelia. And then, I gathered myself up and came to tell your mother.”

  Amelia’s heart was broken. She was sick. Nauseated, dizzy. Her entire world was spinning. “I need to be alone,” she choked, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat.

  Thad nodded. “I’ll go.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Amelia asked the coachman to drive round the park again and again. She’d left Lily Morgan’s town house hours ago but she couldn’t go home, not home. Not yet. By the time she finally instructed the coachman to head in that direction, the streetlights were being lit. She sat there still, thinking, thinking. Thinking about Paul’s death, all the emotion she had barely let herself feel in all these years, thinking about Thad and her feelings for him, what he’d meant to her now and then. But worst of all, her mind could not stop replaying those last awful moments of her brother’s life. His neck had been snapped by a hideous, violent man when Paul had intervened to save a friend’s life. Mama had been wrong all these years, Paul had not originally been Thad’s second. But the truth of how it all actually unfolded was too awful to contemplate.

  Paul had always been dutiful. He’d done what he was told and never made Mama angry. Amelia had been the opposite. Mama was rarely pleased with her. However, since Papa had begun drawing up the betrothal contract with the Duke of Stanford, Mama had nearly floated around the house humming, she was so pleased. And Amelia had been torn as to whether or not to do her duty.

  But that was Mama’s life. What Mama wanted. It wasn’t what Amelia wanted or even what she could bear. Not anymore. Because there was one thing Amelia knew for certain after hours of circling the park…if Paul had lived, if he had had the chance to live the life he wanted, he wouldn’t have lived that life.

  And now, now Amelia realized exactly what she must do. She must live the life she wanted. Her own life. The one she was granted and given and able to live. She must live it for herself, but she must also live it for Paul who would never be able to live his own. She’d never wanted to marry a man solely of her mother’s choosing. She realized that now. Reading the pamphlet had been nothing but an excuse to cry off from the Marquis of Colton last spring. And choosing those old men had just been an attempt at getting it all over with quickly. But she deserved more than that. She deserved better than that. She deserved love, and happiness, and to live her own life.

  Thad. Her heart twisted for him. When she’d first seen him again last week, she’d noticed how strong he’d become, muscled and broad chested. But now she realized why he’d become a great boxer. Why he was so determined to beat everyone. He’d done it all, for Paul. He hadn’t been able to fight off the thug that day outside London and Paul had tried to save him and died. So Thad had become the best boxer in town. Tossed his reputation aside and started his own club, in fact.

  All to make up for his shortcomings that day three years ago. He was racked with guilt. And what she’d asked of him had made it worse. He was trying to make amends to their family every single day of his life. And she loved him for it.

  But she knew now. She wanted to marry him. Marry him and spend the rest of her life with him. And who gave a toss what Mama thought? Amelia was through answering to Mama.

  When the coach finally pulled to a stop in front of Papa’s town house, Amelia got out and rushed up the front steps. She pushed open the front door and strode purposefully inside. Hannah was dusting a sideboard in the foyer.

  “Where’s Mama?” Amelia asked.

  Hannah hesitated. “She’s in the…attic.”

  The attic?

  Not bothering to stop and ask questions, Amelia took the stairs two at a time. She’d never even been up to the attic; she’d barely known it existed and Mama certainly wasn’t one to do things she might otherwise send the servants to do. A strange sense of dread clutched at Amelia’s heart.

  She went faster, rushing up the stairs and bursting through the door. Mama was there, standing in the corner. Amelia glanced about, looking at all of the furnishings surrounding her mother.

  It was Paul’s, all of it.

  All of her brother’s things were there, set up just like his bedroom from three years ago. Mama had been running a finger across his bedside table. She glanced up at Amelia and a look of horror crossed her face.

  It struck Amelia then. Mama had pretended to the world that she hadn’t cared, didn’t need to mourn, but silently, she’d been mourning all these years. She hadn’t discarded Paul’s things at all. She’d just hidden them up here, away from the world, in her own private place where she could come and be close to him. Tears filled Amelia’s eyes.

  Oh, Mama, why didn’t you let me mourn with you? It would have been so much easier on both of us.

  Her mother said nothing. Her chin shook. She was obviously making a desperate effort not to cry.

  Amelia glanced down at her hands. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she wasn’t wringing them in her mother’s presence. No more hand-wringing and no more being frightened. She would stand up to her mother this time, woman-to-woman.

  “Mama,” she whispered.

  Mama clenched her fists. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you,” Amelia answered.

  Mama stepped forward and her face went back to its usual harsh expression. “Yes, well, let’s go downstairs. It’s far too stuffy up here.” She put her arm through Amelia’s and began to escort her downstairs.

  Amelia tugged her arm away and spun around. “Truly? You’re going to pretend like nothing’s happened? Like I didn’t see this?” She gestured to the room at large.

  “See what?” Mama asked.

  Oh God. Her mother was a crazy person.

  Amelia expelled her breath. “This room. All of Paul’s things. Are you truly going to act as if this doesn’t exist?”

  Her mother pulled up her shoulders. “I don’t see what that has to do with—”


  “It has to do with everything!” Amelia shouted, whirling around to face her mother head-on.

  “I do not like the tone of your voice, Miss.”

  “I don’t care.” Amelia’s chest heaved with her indignation. “I don’t like a great many things you’ve done over the last several years. Over my whole life, actually. But I never had a choice. Admit it, Mama. You love him. You miss him.”

  Her mother’s angry façade cracked just a bit. But just as quickly, her stoicism returned. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

  “And it wasn’t Thad’s fault.”

  Her mother took an angry step toward Amelia. “How dare you mention that name in this house!”

  She raised a palm to slap Amelia but Amelia moved out of the way. Normally such defiance would have angered her mother more, but today Amelia didn’t care. Her mother’s shaking hand fell to her side.

  “Thad Hammond didn’t kill Paul,” Amelia said, her hands clenched in fists at her side. “He and Paul were young and foolish. They made a mistake and got into a fight with the wrong men at the wrong time. Paul died honorably, defending his friend, and your hatred of Thad isn’t going to bring him back.”

  Mama’s voice shook. “If Mr. Hammond hadn’t started the fight, Paul never would have been there that morning.”

  “That’s not true, Mama.” Amelia took a step closer. “Paul was defending Lady Evelyn’s honor and Thad went with him as his second.”

  Mama’s face fell and she hung her head. “No.”

  Amelia’s heart broke. There was no sense in telling Mama the rest. She didn’t need to picture her only son with a broken neck. It was too cruel. But at least she finally knew the truth, that Thad hadn’t started the fight.

  “Why are you so intent on defending Thad Hammond?” Mama asked brokenly.

  “Because I love him, Mama. I love him and I intend to marry him. With or without your approval.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Amelia ran up the stairs to the boxing saloon. She didn’t even stop to explain herself to the enormous doorkeeper. “Where is Mr. Hammond?” she asked breathlessly, running past.

  “He’s in his office at the end o’ the corridor,” the giant man said, pointing. Apparently, a lady dressed in full finery entering the saloon had so surprised him that he hadn’t even thought to stop her or ask what she was about.

  She didn’t stop either. When she got to the office door, she pushed it open with the full force of her body and let it crack against the opposite wall.

  Thad was sitting behind the desk. His head snapped up, his bright blue eyes going wide. “Amy?” he breathed.

  Letting her own breathing settle back to rights, she clutched the door handle and swung the door shut behind her. Then she approached the desk, placed both palms facedown on it, and leaned toward Thad.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, watching her carefully.

  “Two things. First, I need to tell you something.”

  He nodded, the barest hint of assent.

  “You did nothing wrong. Paul never would have blamed you for what happened that day. He would have blamed himself, for agreeing to the fight in the first place, for dragging you out to that field with him. You must believe that.”

  Thad’s chin dipped to his chest and he expelled a long breath. “But I—”

  “Your guilt won’t bring him back and I know he wouldn’t have wanted you to live the rest of your life paying for the rash actions of two foolish young men.”

  Thad lifted his chin and met her gaze. Something that looked a bit like relief flashed across his face. “Thank you. For that.”

  Amelia nodded. “Thank you for believing me. Now, I have to ask you something.”

  “Anything,” he answered.

  “This,” she said, gesturing to the room at large. “This saloon. All of it. It was for Paul, wasn’t it? You learned to fight, you became the best, for Paul?”

  Thad raised his eyes skyward. He seemed to be searching for the right words. “For Paul…and for me,” he finally said. “I promised myself on the day Paul died that I’d never be the weaker man again.”

  She leaned forward and covered Thad’s hand with one of hers. “You never were.”

  He pressed his lips together, then shook his head. His voice was low. “What’s the second thing?”

  A huge smile spread across her face. “Ah, yes, the second thing. I’m here for my proposal.”

  “What?”

  “My proposal. I want it. One more time. This time it might be nice if you got down on one knee however, but that is merely a suggestion.”

  Thad stood quickly and moved around the desk. “What are you talking about, Amy? I thought you—”

  “I just needed time to think…about everything. And I have. Paul loved you. He died saving your life. I love you. I can’t live without you. And I’ve already told Mama that I intend to marry you so that’s all settled.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “She agreed?”

  “Agreed is a bit too strong of a word, but she realizes my mind is made up. I threatened her with the scandal of running off to Gretna Green if she didn’t allow it.”

  Thad cracked a grin. “You didn’t?”

  Amelia laughed happily and nodded. “I did!”

  “Why, Miss Templeton, defying your mother? I can scarcely believe it.”

  “Well…” Amelia tapped her foot on the carpet, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m waiting for my proposal.”

  “Right. With all due haste.” Thad fell to one knee next to her and grasped her hand. He looked up into her face. “Miss Templeton, I love you desperately. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  Tears hung in Amelia’s eyes, but she gave him a bright smile. “Yes, Mr. Hammond. I should like very much to marry you.”

  Thad pulled her down into his arms. “Excellent. Now that that’s settled…” He whispered in her ear. “Come to bed with me.”

  A shiver of anticipation raced along Amelia’s nerves. “Yes,” was her answer.

  He stood and helped her up too. Taking her hand, he led her straight out of his office and through the back door into the alley where her coach was waiting.

  “My house is only a few blocks from here,” he assured her as the conveyance took off over the bumpy cobbles.

  By the time they arrived at his town house in St. James, Amelia’s insides were quaking, not with fear, but with anticipation.

  He opened the front door and stood aside, allowing her to precede him into the residence.

  Thad’s home was just like him, strong and unpretentious. It was a bit more elegant than she’d expected. Perhaps owning a gambling saloon was more lucrative than she’d guessed. No matter. They could live as paupers and she wouldn’t care. Just as long as they were together.

  If there were servants in the house, Amelia didn’t see them. Thad whisked her quickly up stairs and into his elegant bedchamber before she ever had a chance to worry about the inappropriateness of being at a bachelor’s residence in broad daylight. Inappropriateness, apparently, was the theme of the day given what they were about to do.

  If Thad’s town house was manly, his bedroom was even more so. Thick dark rugs and oversized leather chairs sat at odds near a fireplace on the left side of the room. And an enormous bed occupied a great deal of the space on the right.

  Amelia slowly made her way to the bed. “So,” she said in a low voice, tracing her finger along the dark blue sheets. “Our wedding night is not to be a night at all, but an afternoon.”

  His gaze was steady, level. Were his insides not rioting the way hers were?

  “Would you rather wait until the moon rises, my love?” he asked.

  Amelia shook her head emphatically. “I’ve waited long enough to learn these secrets.” She gave him just the barest hint of a smile.

  “Good,” he answered huskily, crossing over to her and running his palms along the bare skin of her forearms. “Because I don’t think I could wait a moment longer if
you asked me to.”

  A thrill shot down her spine.

  She’d already removed her bonnet and coat downstairs and now she turned to him and offered him her back. “Help me with my buttons?”

  “With pleasure.” He slowly unbuttoned the back of her gown and the feel of his warm fingers against her back was enough to make Amelia shudder.

  Thad helped her to pull the gown over her head. Then he walked over to the fireplace and lit a brace of candles. Next, he crossed over to windows where the thick damask curtains hung. He pulled them closed across the broad expanse of glass, enveloping the room in shadowy darkness. “We can at least pretend it’s night,” he said, turning to her with a smile that made Amelia’s knees nearly buckle.

  “And that there’s already been a wedding.” She winked at him.

  Thad crossed back over the carpet. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he shucked his boots, then his coat, waistcoat, and shirtsleeves.

  Amelia stood watching him in her chemise, stays, and stockings. Oh, but he was magnificent. She reveled in the sight of his bare chest. Yes. It was just as glorious as she’d remembered it. She waited for him to finish undressing—though he kept his breeches on, drat the luck—before she turned and gestured for help with her stays.

  Thad undid the lacings one by one and each tug was a slow, agonizing wait. Soon Amelia was free of the confining garment, however. She bent to pull off the stockings, but Thad’s hand on her knee stopped her. A warm heat shot straight down her thigh.

  “Let me,” he breathed.

  “With pleasure.”

  He picked her up at the waist as if she weighed nothing and gently set her on the bed, then he followed her onto the mattress. She leaned back against the pillows and easily plucked the pins from her coiffure. Her curls flooded down over her shoulders and she shook out the golden mass. She discarded the pins on the bedside table.

  “You’re beautiful.” He gently touched her cheek.

  He kissed her, so tenderly. And she kissed him back, ran her fingers along his slightly stubbled jaw, pressed the corner of her mouth to the scar next to his eye. Now she knew what he’d been through to get that scar. She shuddered. She loved this man with her whole being.