And he hadn’t, had he? He had put a great deal of effort and attention into winning Amelia’s heart six years ago, but very little since then. Still, he had been content enough with their lives up to now. Or had he? There was that little matter of his wandering eye, and a feeling of restlessness, even if he hadn’t acted on it, which should count for something, although, if truth were told, it didn’t. He had been just as remiss as she had, more so. He had very nearly everything he’d ever wanted in life and had neglected it. An untended garden.
He’d never been good at telling her how he felt, precisely why he had enlisted Harry’s help when they were courting. Although it did seem that tonight he had been somewhat less reticent to express his feelings. It was, he realized abruptly, the very real threat of losing what he couldn’t live without. Certainly he had told her he loved her any number of times through the years, although perhaps not as often of late. But he wasn’t sure he had ever told her before tonight that she was the love of his life.
He set his jaw in a determined manner. That needed to change right now. He started toward the door, then pulled up short. This might not be the best time. She was still upset and obviously confused. He would wager she might take learning that her husband had been in the carriage with her and not his brother badly. Still, who knew what she might do if left to her own thoughts. She hadn’t said as much, but he feared she could well decide to leave him.
No, she had to know how much she meant to him. And if he couldn’t get out the words, Harry could.
He again stepped toward the door and again paused. But this was not the way Harry would do it. It wasn’t nearly dramatic enough. Robert circled the house and was at once relieved and annoyed that the latch on the back garden gate was properly secured. He hadn’t scaled a fence since his youth, although he suspected his brother had probably done so any number of times. Robert squared his shoulders. This was his turn. He scrambled over the fence and hopped to the ground with a growing sense of confidence. This would work; it had to.
He picked up a handful of pebbles from the path and continued around the house until he reached a spot directly beneath her window. There wasn’t a light showing, but he was fairly certain she would not have wanted to linger downstairs and answer the well-meaning questions of servants as to when Sir Robert was expected. She would have checked on the children and would be in her rooms right about now. A shadow passed by the window, and he grinned with satisfaction.
He took aim at the window and tossed a pebble. It plinked against the glass, and he waited. Nothing. He tried again, a bit harder. Again, no response. Maybe he needed a rock rather than a pebble, although he would prefer not to break the glass. Still, this was not the time for practicalities. He weighed the pebbles in his hand and threw them as one. They smacked against the window in a noisy staccato. If that didn’t get her attention, nothing would. In less than a moment, the window flew open and Amelia leaned out.
“What on earth is going on down there?”
“It’s me.” He paused. “Harry.”
“Who else? I should have known.” She huffed. “What do you want?”
“I have come to plead my brother’s case.”
“Now?”
“This very minute.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Why indeed? “Because he’s my brother and he can’t live his life without you.”
For a long moment she didn’t say a word. “Very well then, plead, but do lower your voice. I would prefer not to attract the attention of neighbors or servants or whoever else might be about at this hour.”
“He has loved you from the first moment he saw you,” he said in a loud whisper.
“What?”
“He has loved you from the first moment he saw you,” he said again, a bit louder.
“Go on.”
“You are indeed the love of his life.”
“I am sorry, Harry, but I’m not hearing everything you’re saying.”
“Blast it all,” he muttered. This wouldn’t do any good if she couldn’t hear what he only had the courage to say as his brother. “This is absurd.” In the dim starlight he could make out the ivy that crept over much of the back of the house. The vines were ancient and thick and, with any luck at all, more than up to the task of supporting a man. He wound his fingers through the ivy and tugged.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m climbing up to talk to you.”
“Don’t be insane, Harry. This isn’t one of your amorous adventures.”
“All of life should be an adventure.” It struck him that he had forgotten that.
“Regardless, I’ll come down and we can speak in the parlor.”
“No,” he said sharply. The last thing he wanted at the moment was a well-lit parlor. “I’ll climb up.”
“Why?”
“Practice.” He found a secure grip, tested a few places with his foot, found a good foothold, and started to climb. “One never knows when one might have to scale a wall.”
“You’re not merely ridiculous but annoying. Now go away.”
“No, I’m not finished. There is a great deal more to say.” He moved slowly up the wall. This was more treacherous than he had expected. He should have the gardener cut the ivy down before the boys were old enough to discover its lure. He gritted his teeth. “For my brother.”
“And what do you think your brother will say if he comes home to find you clinging to the side of the house?”
“He’ll understand. It’s just the sort of thing he’d expect me to do.”
“The sort of idiotic thing he’d expect you to do,” she snapped. “It’s dangerous, Harry, and I’ll not have your death on my head.”
“I’m not going to die.” Indeed with every inch upward, he was more confident. “Nothing has happened to change that.”
“Whether or not you’re going to plunge to your death?”
“No.” It was remarkably difficult to conduct a conversation while clinging to the side of a house. “How Robert feels about you.” The vine beneath his foot pulled away from the wall, and for a frightening moment he dangled in midair before finding firm footing again.
“That didn’t sound good. What happened?”
“Nothing.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m almost there.”
She scoffed. “You’re not even halfway up. Regardless, I’m coming down.”
“No, I can do this.”
“Nonetheless, I’m closing the window.”
“No, Amelia, wait.” If he didn’t say this now, he might never have another chance. “In recent days, Robert has realized—” Even as he said the words, the vines in his hands pulled away from the house in an oddly slow manner, as if some unseen guardian that protected men from their own stupidity was giving him a chance to save himself. He scrambled to find a better hold, but every branch and vine seemed determined to abandon the wall it had clung to for decades. He tumbled backward, vines in his hands, and landed with a hard thump flat on his back in a heap of vines and leaves, the breath knocked out of him. Damnation.
A muttered oath sounded from above, and in spite of the pain that encompassed every inch of his battered body, he noted in the back of his mind that he couldn’t recall ever hearing Amelia curse before. She did it surprisingly well. Once again he wondered what else he might not know about his wife.
Robert lay staring up at the stars and decided not to move for a moment or the rest of his life, whichever came first. If he could move at all. He was in no hurry to find out.
He heard approaching footsteps.
“Harry?” She knelt down beside him. “Are you alive?”
“I’m not sure.”
She started pulling off the leafy debris covering him. “Is anything broken?”
He groaned. “Everything is broken.”
“As well it should be. What a stupid trick that was.”
“I needed to talk to you.” Cautiously he flexed his arms then his legs. Everything seemed to work. With
great care, he managed to sit up. “I—Robert has never been able to.”
“Nonsense. Robert and I used to have great discussions about all manner of topics.”
“Except those that are truly important. About how he feels about you.” He winced. “Or, I suspect, about your feelings for him.”
She sighed. “I have been as bad as he. I fully admit, I am as much to blame for the problems between us as he is.”
“He has realized in recent days that he should have put as much effort into keeping your affections as he did winning them.”
“He hasn’t lost them, not really.” She shook her head. “But I have expected far too much—”
“No. You haven’t expected enough or demanded enough. You only expected to be happy, and in that he has failed.”
“I wouldn’t say—”
“A wife should be treated as one would treat a mistress.” Blast it all, that was brilliant. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Because now he was thinking like Harry. “Flowers for no reason. Gifts, on occasion, simply because it’s Tuesday or Friday or just a day that you are in his life.”
“Gifts like your diamond bracelet perhaps?”
“Diamond bracelet?” What was she talking about?
“The diamond bracelet,” she said slowly. “That started all this.”
“Oh, that diamond bracelet.” Obviously yet another pertinent fact Harry had failed to mention. Still, it probably wasn’t important. “He should indeed give you the occasional diamond bracelet.”
“Perhaps you should tell this to your brother.”
“He knows. At least now he knows.” He drew a deep breath. “And he knows as well you need the words that he has never been good at. You need to hear from his own lips every day how much he loves you. How much he cherishes you. How you are the most important thing in his life.”
“That’s…lovely,” she said softly.
He shifted to his knees. “And furthermore he has come to the realization that you cannot share his bed merely out of complacency and duty.”
“No?”
“No. You need to be seduced, Amelia, often and with a great deal of enthusiasm.” He grabbed her shoulders without thinking. “And kissed. Frequently.” His voice softened. “And every kiss should be as if it were the very first time.” He pulled her to him and kissed her long and hard until he wanted to pull her onto the ground and make love to her right here. He’d nearly forgotten what exquisite desire nothing more than a kiss could produce. She jerked away, hesitated, then cracked her hand across his face.
“Ouch!” He clapped his hand against his cheek. “That hurt.”
“It was supposed to.”
“Why did you slap me?”
“You kissed me without my permission. And the first time should be with my express permission.”
He shook his head. “Robert didn’t ask permission the first time he kissed you.”
“And how do you know that?”
“How?” How indeed? “Brothers…talk.”
“Yes, of course, excellent answer. Now, however.” She slid her arms around his neck. “You have my permission.”
“What?” She wanted to kiss him? No. She wanted to kiss his brother!
“I said you have my permission to kiss me, Harry.”
“What about Robert?” He pulled out of her embrace and scooted away.
“You weren’t thinking about Robert a moment ago,” she said in a chastising manner.
“I was carried away. Now I am thinking about nothing but Robert.”
“Oh, Robert has my permission without asking. Part and parcel of marriage, you know.”
“No, I mean Robert wouldn’t like my kissing you.”
“It was Robert’s idea in the first place.”
“I scarcely think—”
“He chose you to be my lover,” she said in the very same casual manner she might use to say he ordered a new shirt. “I expect that he anticipated there would be a certain amount of kissing and, well, everything that goes along with it.”
“He didn’t anticipate anything of the sort.” He scrambled to his feet.
“Would you help me up?” She held out her hand. “It’s not at all hard to lower oneself to the ground in a ball gown but remarkably difficult to rise.”
“Certainly,” he murmured, and helped her to her feet. Without pause her arms slipped back around his neck. “Amelia, do not forget you are a married woman.”
“You’ve never been the least bit concerned about a lady’s marital state.”
“Well, the lady was never before my brother’s wife.” He removed her arms from his neck and stepped back, keeping her hands firmly clasped in his. Who knew where she might put them next. “I have certain moral standards, you know.”
“Nonsense. You have no morals whatsoever, and everyone knows it. Besides, you just kissed me.”
“An impulse. A momentary lapse in judgment.” He shook his head.
“How very flattering,” she said wryly.
“Which is not to say I did not enjoy it,” he added quickly.
“I was well aware of how much you enjoyed it.”
“But Robert might be home at any minute,” he warned.
“I don’t think so.” She shook off his grip, stepped closer, and rested her hands on his chest. “As I was under the impression he was already home.”
“Already…” She knew? Relief washed through him. He narrowed his eyes. “When did you know?”
“I didn’t know in the carriage, but you called me the love of your life tonight, and then Harry used the same phrase.” She shook her head. “It didn’t sound like something Harry would say, but wasn’t especially significant. But you didn’t seem to know anything about the bracelet.”
“What bracelet?”
“The one Harry gave Lady Deering.”
“Oh. That bracelet.” The bracelet he had picked up for his brother had started all this? That blasted bracelet had nearly cost him his wife. “How did you—”
She shrugged. “I ran across it inadvertently.”
“You should have trusted me.”
“Yes, I should.”
“Although admittedly I deserved your doubt.” He wrapped her arms around her.
“Yes, you did. You should know, though, it was your kiss that ultimately revealed your identity.”
“And yet you slapped me anyway.”
“A slap you did nothing to warrant?”
“Well, perhaps, there might have been—”
She laughed. “You should know, you’re dreadful at being Harry.”
“I am not!”
“Furthermore…” She paused. “Harry isn’t a very good you.”
“Harry hasn’t—” The significance of her words hit him. “Harry hasn’t pretended to be me for a very long time.”
“Six years, I should say.”
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew.”
“How? We used to be quite good at playing each other.”
“When you were boys perhaps. Darling Robert.” She placed her palm on his cheek. “I have loved you from the first moment I saw you as well. And while in appearance you may be indistinguishable from your brother, I have always been able to tell you apart. Perhaps it’s the look in your eye, or possibly the way you look at me, but it’s definitely in your kiss.”
“I like that.” The last remnant of doubt vanished with her words, and he pulled her closer against him. “I am sorry, Amelia, my love, that I lost sight of the fact that you are my love.”
“And I am sorry that I allowed you to do so. And worse, did not notice until it was very nearly too late.”
“Still, pretending to be Harry has its benefits. It made me realize that in many ways, a wife should indeed be treated with the effort and consideration and romance one might reserve for a mistress.”
“I would be happy to be your mistress, Robert.” She paused. “As well as your wife.”
“It made me realize somethin
g else too.” He shook his head. “I once promised to make every day an adventure, and I see now that was a mistake.”
“You did climb a wall for me.”
“As Harry.”
“Still, it was most adventurous. A bit stupid perhaps.”
“More than a bit.” He chuckled, then sobered. “In Harry’s words, all of life should be an adventure. And while I promise it will probably never again include climbing walls or pretending to be someone I’m not, I promise as well to remember that love is like a garden and needs to be tended and not taken for granted.” He kissed her softly. “And love is indeed the greatest adventure of all.”
“You should know, I still intend to take a lover.”
He laughed. “Do you?”
“I do, and I have selected the perfect candidate.”
“Have you?”
“Indeed I have, and he looks exactly like you.”
“You don’t mean Harry?”
“No.” She brushed her lips across his. “Harry’s brother.”
He chuckled. “Excellent choice.”
“I thought so. But I rather think I like the idea of him remaining anonymous. A secret lover, as it were.”
“In that case your secret is safe with me.” He kissed her thoroughly and wondered at the foolishness of men who didn’t realize what they had until they had nearly lost it. “As is your heart.”
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The Lady in Question
Love with the Proper Husband
The Pursuit of Marriage
The Wedding Bargain
Her Highness, My Wife
The Husband List
Lady Amelia's Secret Lover Page 7
