Gray moved back abruptly, taking a grasp on the tops of Amelia’s arms to hold her firmly away as she would have swayed towards him. He had to shift slightly in order to ease the uncomfortable bulge in his pantaloons as she looked up at him in pouting disappointment.
Perhaps Alice Wycliffe’s suggestion was the right one after all…?
Obviously Gray could not remain here alone with Amelia any longer than he absolutely had to. Nor could he leave her to her own devices whilst he went on his way to Mulberry Hall. Perhaps the best thing would be to take Amelia with him.
No!
Every part of Gray flared up in protest at the idea of introducing Amelia to the St Claire family. Hawk St Claire, the aristocratic Duke of Stourbridge, was as austerely handsome as he was intimidating. Lucian St Claire was considered as broodingly attractive as he was taciturn, and had also been a hero at Waterloo. And Sebastian St Claire, a charming rake before his marriage, had been Gray’s closest friend and companion during those nights in Town when he had reputedly gambled and womanised!
Nor did Gray consider the wives of the three St Claire brothers to be any more of an example for Amelia to emulate. Jane, Hawk’s Duchess of just over a year, was a ravishingly beautiful redhead who cared little for the dictates and restraints of Society. Grace, Lucian’s recent bride, was as wilfully determined as she was beautiful. Sebastian, the wildest of the three brothers, had surprised everyone two months ago, when he had married Juliet, an ethereally lovely young widow who already carried his child.
As for the youngest member of the St Claire family…
Arabella, the young sister of the three St Claire brothers, despite now being married to the devilishly handsome Duke of Carlyne, was also a perfect hellion. And Gray knew firsthand exactly how managing and forthright the beautiful Arabella could be when she chose!
For Gray to take Amelia into the midst of that arrogant and aristocratic family would be complete madness on his part.
And he did not believe himself to have been driven completely mad as yet…
Chapter Six
Amelia knew just from looking at the hard implacability of Gideon’s expression as he turned to face her that she was not going to like what he said next. Any more than she liked the fact that he had moved away from her so abruptly when it had looked as if he might have been going to kiss her…!
‘You really have no one else to stay with?’ he rasped. ‘No other family? Grandparents? Uncles or aunts?’
Perhaps an old family friend, or even just an acquaintance, who might be persuaded into taking responsibility for her? Amelia inwardly finished with a proud straightening of her spine. ‘There is not even an old family dog who might be brought here to keep me company!’ Her eyes flashed.
Lord Grayson’s mouth firmed. ‘There is no need to take that tone, Amelia—’
‘There is every need if I have correctly understood your reluctance for my company!’ Amelia stood up abruptly. ‘But do not be alarmed, sir. I have my own rooms, and if necessary can easily remain in them for the duration of your stay here!’
She looked beautiful as she stared him down so proudly, Gray acknowledged ruefully. Every inch the lady she undoubtedly was. Every inch of her too beautiful and desirable for his own peace of mind.
‘Do not be so melodramatic, Amelia.’ Gray affected a bored tone. ‘The fact that you no longer have a companion here with you is, I admit, a little…inconvenient—’
‘It is not inconvenient to me, sir.’ She gave a determined shake of her head. ‘You can have no idea of the constraints that have been placed upon me since I first entered your brother’s household.’
A reminder, Gray recognised, of his complete lack of thought or understanding for what Amelia’s life might have been these past years. Or what her life had been before that time…
‘Tell me,’ he encouraged huskily. ‘I know nothing of either your mother or your own life before she and Perry were married.’ Gray’s admission caused him some discomfort as he acknowledged that he should have made more of an effort to meet his brother’s wife and stepdaughter. ‘Where did you and your mother live before you came here?’ He moved to sit in one of the pale blue chairs set beside the fire, crossing one leg over the other as he looked up at Amelia enquiringly.
Her shoulders lost some of their stiffness. ‘We had a cottage beside the sea in a small village on the Devonshire coast. My father’s family came from there originally. He was the son of a vicar, but always wanted to be a soldier.’ She gave a rueful smile at that irony.
A cottage set beside the sea in a village on the Devonshire coast…
The complete opposite, Gray acknowledged, to a manor house set alone in the flat and often bleak Bedfordshire countryside.
Amelia gave a shake of her head. ‘My mother was the daughter and only child of the local squire. He died before I was born, so I never knew him, but according to my mother he had high expectations of his only child making an advantageous marriage. He would not even entertain the idea of her marrying the soldier son of the local vicar! My mother and father ran away together, and were married when my mother was but seventeen. It was a happy marriage.’ Her chin rose defensively, as if she expected Gray to challenge the statement.
Which he had no intention of doing. ‘They returned to the village following their marriage…?’
‘Not immediately, no.’ Amelia gave a smile. ‘My mother accompanied my father on his campaigns for a year or more, and I believe it was only decided my mother must return to England once they knew she was expecting a child. Her father—my grandfather—had been killed in a hunting accident several months earlier, unfortunately without there having been any reconciliation between the two of them, which resulted in his leaving all his wealth to a distant cousin or some such.’ She shrugged delicate shoulders. ‘But, having returned alone to England, it was my mother’s wish to live in the village she knew, with people she was familiar with.’
‘That sounds…sensible.’ Gray nodded, having more of an understanding now of where Amelia had come by her indomitable spirit. With a soldier for a father, and a mother who had known and determined her own heart even in the face of parental disapproval, Amelia had been sure to be of similar determination and courage. That same determination and courage that had enabled her to face down an intruder with a pistol the evening before!
Amelia nodded. ‘I am sure that my mother must have missed my father deeply, but it was an idyllic childhood as far as I was concerned. Months when I had my mother completely to myself, followed by weeks of excitement and outings when my father, now a sergeant in his regiment, was able to join us.’
The wistfulness of her expression told Gray just how idyllic, how happy, that childhood had been.
Her chin rose proudly. ‘My father was killed four years ago. At which time his commanding officer, Major Lord Peregrine Grayson—’ she smiled affectionately ‘—wrote to my mother, expressing his deepest sympathy at the loss of such a gallant soldier as he considered my father to be, and promising that he would visit her in person as soon as he was able.’
That sounded like Perry, Gray acknowledged with sad affection, knowing that his brother had been a man who’d felt the loss of each and every man in his own regiment and, once it had been believed the fighting was over, had tried to visit the close relatives of all who had died whilst fighting alongside him during those bloody years of war.
‘Obviously it was a fortuitous visit…?’
Those blue eyes narrowed. ‘I trust you are not implying—’
‘I assure you I am not implying anything, Amelia.’ Gray held up silencing hands. ‘From Perry’s account of things, he and your mother fell in love with each other on sight.’
‘Yes.’ Amelia sighed sadly at the memory of how her mother’s second marriage to Lord Peregrine Grayson had lasted only for a few brief months before her mother was taken ill with influenza and as quickly died.
‘Which brings us back to here and now, and what to do with yo
u.’
Amelia eyed Gideon Grayson warily. ‘What to do with me…?’
He gave an autocratic inclination of his head. ‘It has been suggested to me, as you are nineteen years of age, that come the spring you might like to have a Season in London.’
‘A Season? Really?’ Amelia eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of going to London. Until she realised exactly what Gideon had said. ‘Been suggested by whom…?’ she prompted suspiciously.
He glanced down to brush a speck of lint from his perfectly tailored pantaloons. ‘An acquaintance.’
What acquaintance? Amelia wondered with a frown. And when and where had Gideon met this acquaintance? Had it been this morning? Or had this already been decided upon, discussed with a third party, before Gideon even came to Steadley Manor? Perhaps—Amelia felt a pained contraction of her chest—with the mistress in London who currently shared Gideon’s bed…?
‘That is the reason I asked a few minutes ago if you had any relatives—older female relatives, obviously—who might act as chaperone during that time,’ Gideon continued coolly.
‘I am sorry, no.’ There was a complete lack of apology in Amelia’s slightly defiant tone.
Gideon had discussed her—what to do with her!—with a third party. As if she were some unasked-for package that had been delivered to his door by mistake. An unasked-for and unwanted package that Gideon Grayson obviously now wished to rid himself of at the earliest opportunity!
Amelia looked at him coldly. ‘And is it your intention that during this Season I attempt to find myself a husband…?’
He looked momentarily disconcerted, before nodding abruptly. ‘If that is your wish, yes.’
Exactly as Amelia had suspected.
Gray could see by the rebellious glitter that suddenly entered Amelia’s expressive blue eyes that he had somehow spoken out of turn. Again. Although what could be wrong about following through on Alice Wycliffe’s suggestion that come the spring he take Amelia to London and rig her out with a complete new wardrobe before launching her into Society, Gray had absolutely no idea.
Although it had not occurred to him until Amelia questioned his motives that she might possibly procure herself a husband during that time…
Damn it, he should be the one who was put out by the very idea of having to introduce Amelia into Society, when doing so would mean having to put himself to the inconvenience of attending the numerous balls and parties given by the ton that he usually made such a point of avoiding. As a wealthy and titled bachelor, Gray knew that showing his face in Society meant that every marriage-minded mama in the country would trample over anyone who stood in her way in order that she might reach his side and extol the virtues of her daughter as his prospective future wife!
But, instead of appearing excited at the prospect, Amelia looked as if Gray were suggesting he accompany her to the gallows!
He stood up impatiently. ‘I am sure this is what my brother Perry and your mother intended for you—’
‘That is unfair!’ Those incredible blue eyes were once again awash with tears.
Gray shook his head. ‘I do not think so. My brother Perry left provision in his will for your marriage dowry—’
‘My marriage dowry!’ Amelia repeated incredulously.
‘Of course.’ Gray gave a haughty inclination of his head. ‘When your mother married my brother you became the stepdaughter of a lord, so—’
‘Do not touch me!’ She moved sharply away as Gray would have reached out and lightly grasped her arm, and raised her chin proudly as she looked down the length of her nose at him. ‘You have made your feelings very clear on the subject, and, as you are my guardian, if it is your wish that I go to London in the spring so that I might search for a husband, then of course I must go.’
‘You were the one who suggested that you might find yourself a husband!’ Gray glared his frustration with this conversation.
‘You were the one who mentioned a marriage dowry!’
‘I was merely—’
‘Putting forward a way in which you might be completely rid of all responsibility for me?’ Amelia finished scathingly.
Gray gave an exasperated snort. ‘I made no mention of being rid of you—’
‘You have made it perfectly clear that is your intention.’ She swept her gown to one side.
‘Damn it, Amelia—’
‘If you will excuse me, My Lord?’ She eyed him coldly. ‘I believe I would prefer to spend the time before dinner upstairs in my bedchamber.’
As far away from him as she could possibly be whilst still remaining in the same house, Gray acknowledged impatiently. ‘I have not finished talking to you yet, Amelia—’
‘But I have finished talking with you!’ she assured him, giving him one last scathing glance before walking from the room with her head held disdainfully high.
Leaving Gray no choice but to stare after her in complete frustration. Alice Wycliffe had assured him earlier that any young lady of nineteen years would be thrilled at the prospect of going to London and being introduced into Society. That she would be ecstatic at the suggestion of a new wardrobe. Of attending balls and parties and meeting all the handsome rakes with whom she might dance and behave the flirt.
Obviously when Alice had made this observation she’d had no personal knowledge of the stubborn and self-willed Amelia Ashford!
Chapter Seven
‘You look as if you wish that your aim had been truer than it was yesterday evening!’
Amelia looked down the length of the dining table at Gideon Grayson, very aware of Watkins, the butler, standing silently near the door. ‘Nothing so violent, I assure you, My Lord.’
‘No?’ He quirked a dark and disbelieving brow, looking very handsome in his black evening clothes.
It was true that when Amelia had reached her bedchamber earlier she had been so angry she had not known whether to throw something or simply to sit down and cry. In the end she had done neither of those things, but had instead paced her bedchamber as she tried to understand why it was she was feeling those contradictory emotions.
A Season in London, being introduced into Society and attending balls and parties in beautiful new gowns was surely every young woman’s dream? It had certainly been one of Amelia’s fantasies when she was growing up in Devonshire and had heard of the balls and pleasures to be had in London. But it was something as the daughter of a mere soldier and the disinherited daughter of a squire Amelia had known would only ever be that to her. A fantasy.
Amelia knew she should have been thrilled at Lord Grayson’s suggestion of taking her to London in the spring—aquiver with joy at the thought of buying new gowns in which to attend all those balls and parties, meeting and flirting with the ridiculously handsome men of the ton.
Instead Amelia felt angry. Disappointed. Hurt.
It was that latter emotion that troubled Amelia the most. And as to the reason why she felt so hurt at Gideon Grayson’s obvious effort to do what he believed was best for her…?
One look at his arrogantly handsome face before dinner, at how elegant he looked in his dark evening clothes, and Amelia had realised exactly why it was she felt the way she did. A London Season held no interest for her because she was already more than halfway in love with a ridiculously handsome man of the ton—with Gideon Grayson himself!
‘No,’ she assured him huskily now. ‘I may be a soldier’s daughter, My Lord, but I do not believe I have any real tendency towards violence.’
Gray eyed her sceptically. ‘Indeed? Then perhaps you made me the exception!’
A delicate blush heightened her cheeks, but her gaze remained very direct as she answered him. ‘Undoubtedly.’
Gray could not help but chuckle at the complete lack of apology in her tone. In truth, he was relieved that Amelia was at least talking to him once again; the first two courses of their dinner had been eaten in complete and awkward silence. ‘No matter what you may choose to believe, Amelia, you obviously have
the makings of a bloodthirsty little baggage!’ He raised his wine glass in a toast to her before taking an appreciative sip.
An excellent wine, served to him by an attentive butler. And Watkins and two footmen had also served the delicious meal prepared for them this evening by Mrs Burdock. In fact, Gray noted with satisfaction, the household had been returned to at least a manageable state in just one day.
Now if only he could persuade Amelia into being as amenable…!
She looked very beautiful, in a gown of cream silk that left her throat and the swell of her breasts bare above an overlay of cream lace, making her skin appear the colour of ivory, her eyes bluer, and her mouth a perfect red bow. Her hair was dressed more elaborately this evening, too. A cascade of blonde curls was swept back from her face to fall enticingly against her nape and about the delicate shells of her ears and her temples.
Indeed, looking at her now from between narrowed lids, Gray could not help but appreciate how utterly and deliciously desirable Amelia appeared as she faced him down the length of the dining table…
‘I have not enquired concerning your—injury this evening, My Lord.’ Amelia had noticed, however, that his left arm appeared to be a little stiffer than the right. ‘It is healing well, I hope?’
His mouth firmed. ‘No doubt it will.’
Her brows rose at what she was certain was an evasive reply. ‘But you do not know…?’
He scowled darkly. ‘I said it would, Amelia!’
‘Has the dressing been changed since yesterday evening?’ she persisted.
‘I assure you that I am perfectly well, Amelia.’ He gaze was a frosty warning against pursuing the subject.
A warning Amelia chose to ignore. ‘You do not appear so to me, My Lord. You are pale, and your left arm seems to be a little…uncomfortable.’
He gave a dismissive shake of his head. ‘If my arm aches a little this evening then it is probably because I overtaxed it by riding for so long today.’
Regency Christmas Proposals Page 23
