by Rose Pearson
Amelia felt herself blush, knowing Mrs. Peters was speaking very openly indeed, stating matters with such certainty that Amelia felt a little exposed. Daring a glance at Lady Smithton, she saw the lady look back at her steadily, her expression quite calm.
“But of course,” Lady Smithton said as Amelia lowered her gaze to the floor, now entirely overwhelmed by the lady’s kindness. “I will ensure you are introduced to gentlemen worthy of you, Lady Amelia. Without wishing to appear proud, I am quite certain no one will dare whisper about you within my hearing. In addition, my friend Lord Havisham will also assist.”
Amelia swallowed the lump in her throat, but it did not dislodge itself. Tears began to pool in her eyes, and she blinked hastily, not wanting to lose her composure in front of the lady, but she could not prevent one from slipping out and running down her cheek.
“Oh, do excuse me,” she murmured, embarrassed. “I did not mean to—”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Lady Smithton said quietly. “You have endured a great deal thus far, Lady Amelia. I quite understand that. But you will no longer have to struggle. There is friendship here, waiting for you. I shall introduce you to the other young ladies, and you will see there is a kinship between you all that will both encourage and strengthen you. You will find you are no longer alone in your suffering.” She smiled and leaned forward in her chair, her eyes filled with a hope Amelia clung to. “And you will discover, Lady Amelia, that soirees, balls, dinners, and the like are no longer something to dread but rather something to enjoy. With friends, acquaintances, and welcoming smiles, you will begin to feel a part of society in a way you have not before. You must ignore the whispers, set aside those who seek to mock you, for they are of no value. Instead, focus on those who see you as you truly are and who will not have a single word of gossip on their tongues.” Her smile broadened, and she sat back in her chair. “There are plenty of them, Lady Amelia, and I will be very glad indeed to introduce them to you.”
Amelia pulled out a lace handkerchief and wiped at her eyes, her heart filled with a desperate hope that flared light and heat all through her. “Thank you, Lady Smithton,” she said hoarsely, seeing how Mrs. Peters was also attempting to regain her composure. “You are kindness itself.”
Lady Smithton waved a hand dismissively. “Come now,” she said, a little more decisively. “We must begin to consider your next social occasion so that I might make it quite plain to the ton that you and I are now well acquainted.” Throwing a quick smile to Mrs. Peters, Lady Smithton spread out her hands. “What is it you are to attend next?”
Amelia allowed Mrs. Peters to explain, knowing she was the one who knew such things better than she did herself! Sitting back in her chair with her lace handkerchief screwed up into a ball in one hand, Amelia allowed herself to relax just a little, letting out a long breath and feeling a sense of happiness begin to climb into her heart. It washed over her, giving her a sense of warmth that enveloped her completely. She was no longer to be alone in her suffering. She would have acquaintances who understood her struggles and might even make a friend of Lady Smithton.
Finally, there was a hope that this season would not come to naught and that, instead, it might prove itself to be the happiest year of her life.
Chapter Four
Oliver sighed inwardly as he plastered a smile on his face and walked into Lord Burton’s drawing-room. There was to be a soiree this evening, with cards, music and good conversation, but Oliver was not at all inclined to be present. His head ached from a little too much brandy the previous evening and even having a few hours to rest earlier in the day had not brought him much relief.
But he had accepted the invitation and knew he could not refuse to appear, especially when he had every intention of making his way to Whites later on. Lord Burton would consider it an affront if Oliver were to do such a thing and no doubt, there would be some consequences to deal with thereafter.
“Ah, Lord Montague!”
His smile still fixed firmly to his face, Oliver bowed in greeting, murmuring a word of thanks towards Lord and Lady Burton, who both thanked him in return for attending.
“There are many lovely young ladies here this evening, Lord Montague,” Lord Burton said, stepping away from his wife and speaking a little conspiratorially. “My wife has done so deliberately, choosing those who are less inclined towards making a particularly strong appearance at society events for one reason or another.” He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “My wife has a kind heart, and I could not refuse her this.”
“Of course not,” Oliver muttered, thinking this evening would be even duller than he had first anticipated. “That is kind indeed of Lady Burton to think of such…people.”
Lord Burton nodded, with something flaring in his eyes that Oliver did not quite understand. He watched with interest as Lord Burton glanced back at his wife before returning his attention to Oliver. Was it that the fellow had come to feel a fondness for his wife? That was most unexpected if it were the case, for Lord Burton had not wanted to marry. This time last season, he was doing all he could to remove himself from an engagement he did not want but which had been in place since he himself had been a young boy. Now, it seemed, there was something significantly different about the way he looked at his wife.
“My wife has a very considerate heart,” Lord Burton said, his smile softening his eyes all the more. “I have found her to be kindness itself, I confess.”
Oliver blinked, a little unsure as to what to say to this remark. He had never felt anything other than unbridled desire for the young ladies or widows he pursued, and therefore had no understanding of what Lord Burton was apparently feeling.
“It was very foolish of me to fight against our marriage in the way I did,” Lord Burton finished with a broad smile in Oliver’s direction. “It is my hope, therefore, that this evening, you might find yourself looking at the young ladies without any of your dark intentions.”
Oliver frowned at this, feeling a little needled by the remark. “I do not understand what you mean, Lord Burton,” he said, a little more sharply than he had meant. “Dark intentions?”
Lord Burton chuckled and slapped Oliver on the shoulder, making Oliver want to recoil as far away from the man as possible. He said nothing more but waited for Lord Burton to explain himself as his anger continued to burn a little more hotly with every second that passed.
“My dear fellow,” Lord Burton said eventually in a rather booming voice that made Oliver wince. “The ton knows very well you are not a gentleman who wishes to court without having any particular intention towards them other than to satisfy your desires.” He lifted one brow in silent challenge, and Oliver found he could not easily contradict the gentleman, given everything he had said thus far was quite true. “That is why I speak of ‘dark intentions,’ Lord Montague. Your intentions are not considered to be gentlemanly, and I must insist you give no attention to such plans this evening.” His voice became sterner as he turned just a little to face Oliver more directly. “Why do you not see if there are any ladies here who might just capture your attention in a way other than what you are used to?”
Oliver snorted in derision and turned his head away. “I do not think such a thing will be possible,” he said without either hesitation or embarrassment. “I seek out the company of ladies for a specific reason and I—”
“Just for one evening,” Lord Burton interrupted, holding up one hand. “Make your way around the room. Converse with each person present, instead of looking at them in a way that only speaks to your desires. See if any here are able to capture your attention in a way you have never thought possible.” He chuckled, lifting one eyebrow. “Or do you think you are so very uninteresting that you will have nothing to say and they might be the ones to turn from you?”
Gritting his teeth, Oliver bit back his first, sharp response and looked around the room quickly. Lord Burton was quite correct. There were young ladies present whom he had never been introd
uced to and certainly would never have sought an introduction to either. He preferred bright, vivacious, enchanting young ladies to the quieter, dull creatures who needed a good deal of encouragement before they opened up to him even a little. But this evening, it seemed, he was going to be surrounded by such creatures and would have no choice but to speak to them in the way Lord Burton suggested.
“I am quite certain I will be able to make pleasant conversation if that is what you are asking me to do,” he muttered as Lord Burton slapped him on the shoulder again, making him grit his teeth in frustration. “And I shall be able to do it very well indeed.”
“You shall have to lose all of your usual charms,” Lord Burton laughed as he turned away. “For none here will react to it in the way you are used to.” And, so saying, he turned away from Oliver and moved back to stand by his wife, ready to greet the rest of his guests.
Oliver sighed heavily, looking at the other guests and allowing his gaze to rest on each one for just a short moment. He did not know very many of them at all, although one or two he recognized. They were not overly pretty nor confident in their manner, which needled him. Perhaps he should have found an excuse not to attend this evening, given the dullness that lay before him.
“Good evening, Lord Burton.”
A voice he recognized caught his ears as he glanced behind him, seeing a young lady step into the room with a fair-haired companion just behind her. His stomach dropped to the floor, and his heart began to quicken with embarrassment as he recognized the young lady whom he had thought he had injured, only to realize she had a bad limp. Turning his head away, he winced as he heard Lord Burton’s booming voice reach his ears.
“And might I present, whilst I have the opportunity, the Earl of Montague to you, Lady Amelia?”
Clearing his throat and having no other choice but to do as Lord Burton now insisted, Oliver turned around and inclined his head towards the young lady, trying desperately to prevent the flare of heat he felt in his chest from rising to his face. “Lady Amelia,” he said, lifting his head and sending any angry glance towards Lord Burton, who was now grinning broadly. “How very good to see you again.”
“Ah!” Lord Burton exclaimed, one hand on his heart as he looked from Lady Amelia to Oliver and back again. “You are already acquainted. Wonderful, quite wonderful.” He bowed hastily and took his leave, returning to his position beside his wife as the last few guests began to come into the room.
“You remember Mrs. Peters,” Lady Amelia said quietly, glancing to her left and gesturing to the smaller, fair-haired lady. “She is my companion.”
“But of course,” Oliver said smoothly, bowing to Mrs. Peters and silently thinking to himself that this evening would not get any better. “How are you, Mrs. Peters?”
“Very well,” Mrs. Peters replied with a tight smile. “Thank you, Lord Montague.”
He managed to smile but then could not think of anything more to say. There was still embarrassment that rose up within him when he thought of what had occurred previously between himself and Lady Amelia. Looking about him, he cleared his throat and then tried to find even the smallest, most innocuous remark with which to break the silence.
“I—I do hope you enjoyed the ball, Lady Amelia.”
Cringing inwardly as he said those words, Oliver looked at Lady Amelia and forced himself to smile, knowing their previous meeting was the only thing he ought not to have mentioned.
“The ball?” Lady Amelia looked back at him, her green eyes more vivid than he remembered them. In fact, the more he looked at her, the more Oliver began to realize just how pretty the young lady was. She had a delicate oval face, with dark tresses that allowed a few wisps about her temples whilst the rest were held back. Oliver found himself musing as to just how long Lady Amelia’s hair might be, allowing his gaze to drift down her gentle curves and wondering if she might be a rather easy conquest. She would not be captured by any other gentleman, given her limp, which meant she might be quite willing to step into his arms and allow him to steal a few kisses. He would do nothing more, of course, for he did not treat innocent creatures such as she in that way, but it would be interesting to see if she would permit his attentions.
“Lord Montague?”
There was a hardness to Lady Amelia’s voice that jerked him back to the present, making him realize that not only had he not answered her as yet, but he had also spent the last few moments in silent contemplation, thinking of things he ought not to have been.
“I apologize,” he said, bowing quickly as a flush crept up his neck. “I should not have mentioned the ball. I did not mean to upset you.”
“You did not.”
He blinked in surprise, taken aback by the sharpness to her voice and even more astonished at the dark expression that now captured her features. She had not appeared thus when he had first met her at the ball, thinking she was nothing more than a poor creature who wanted to hide herself away from his—and society’s—view.
“I have a limp,” she declared, making him take a small step back such was the fervor with which she spoke. “That is all, Lord Montague. There is nothing for me to be ashamed of and, indeed, I will no longer permit myself to be made to feel as though it is something I ought to hide away.” She lifted her chin, and Oliver noticed a shard of determination in her eyes, which he had not noticed before. “Do not think our prior meeting brought me any shame, Lord Montague,” she finished, her head held high, and her expression radiating boldness. “For I can assure you, I feel no such thing.”
For some moments, Oliver could not quite find a response. Lady Amelia was speaking in a way he had not expected, and he did not quite know what he ought to say nor how he ought to act. He managed a small smile, inclining his head towards her as he fought to find something appropriate to say. “But of course,” he said, cringing just a little at his lack of response. “I did not mean to…what I should say is—”
“Lady Amelia, you have arrived!”
Oliver looked up, relieved he was no longer going to have to struggle to find something to say. An elegant lady approached, her eyes bright, and her hand outstretched towards Lady Amelia. He recognized her at once. This was none other than Lady Smithton, who had dealt with a good deal of rumor and the like herself, given people liked to whisper about the death of her late husband and considered that Lady Smithton might have had something to do with it. Lady Smithton had shown no sign of being affected by the gossip, which he had admired. At one point, Oliver had considered approaching Lady Smithton himself, given she was a wealthy, independent widow who might wish for a little more intimate company with a gentleman of her acquaintance, but in the end, he had chosen to stay away from her. Lady Smithton was a little too confident and a little too determined for his liking. He much preferred ladies who were a bit quieter.
“How very good to see you,” Lady Amelia murmured, greeting Lady Smithton. “Do you know the Earl of Montague?” Lady Amelia glanced towards Oliver, her eyes barely landing on him before she turned her head away again. “He and I have been recently acquainted.”
Lady Smithton curtsied quickly, just as Oliver bowed, murmuring a greeting.
“Yes,” Lady Smithton replied, speaking only to Lady Amelia. “Yes, I am acquainted with Lord Montague.” She gave him another sharp glance, clearly well aware of his reputation. “You must excuse us, Lord Montague. I have a few people I wish to introduce Lady Amelia to.”
“But of course,” he murmured, realizing Lady Smithton was trying to extract Lady Amelia from his company and finding himself a little irritated by it. Lady Amelia inclined her head in farewell, whilst Mrs. Peters did not even glance at him before following after her charge. Oliver was left standing alone, his temper flaring hot within him as embarrassment poured into his heart. Lady Smithton did not want him near Lady Amelia, and Lady Amelia herself was clearly willing to do as Lady Smithton asked. That was to be expected, he supposed, given Lady Smithton was more than able to encourage and support Lady Amelia
within society, but still, her actions grated at him. The anger within him made him want to pursue Lady Amelia all the more, to make her fall in love with him so that he might steal her kisses and draw her close to him, only to then separate themselves completely and move onto another. It was a desire born from anger, from frustration and from the shame that now nudged at his heart, rather than his usual consideration that she was pretty and much too innocent to be ignored.
“What did you say to her?”
“I said nothing,” Oliver muttered, turning towards Lord Burton and wishing that the gentleman would leave him alone. “I was merely making conversation.”
“Rather poor conversation, it seems,” Lord Burton muttered, gesturing towards Lord Havisham, who was now being introduced to Lady Amelia by Lady Smithton. “Lord Havisham seems to be much better company in the eyes of Lady Smithton.”
“I am sure he is,” Oliver replied, forcing his frustration down. “You know very well it is unwise for ladies to allow their charges near me, Lord Burton.” He shrugged, trying to brush off any more embarrassment that he had been left standing alone whilst Lady Smithton took Lady Amelia away from him. “Therefore, it is quite understandable for Lady Smithton to behave in such a way. I applaud her sense.”
Lord Burton said nothing but studied Oliver in a way Oliver felt to be most uncomfortable. It was as though Lord Burton did not believe him and was now waiting for him to speak truthfully. Oliver kept his mouth shut tight, feeling a good deal of awkwardness but refusing to say another word.
“I do hope you have better success during the rest of the evening,” Lord Burton said eventually. “The musical section is about to start, and I hope you will enjoy that also. Perhaps Lady Amelia will play for us, and you might be able to compliment her thereafter, without her companion and her friend pulling her away.” He gave Oliver a broad wink, which irritated Oliver even more, before turning away and leaving Oliver to stand alone.
