Undressed by the Earl (13 page)

“No, it won’t.” Margaret let out a sigh. “She’ll only tell the courts all about us, and the scandal will be terrible.”

Another thought occurred to Amelia. “But what is the harm if they
do
find out? Victoria and Juliette are both happily married. I can deny all involvement, because I was so young when we began.”

“And I’m a spinster with no chance of marrying anyone, is that what you were about to say?” Margaret’s face grew hard, and she set the note aside. “No. No one can find out about this.”

“The right man won’t care,” Amelia reminded her. She still believed that there was no real harm in it.

“The right man won’t even look at me if he believes I was designing scandalous underwear.”

Actually, Amelia believed that men might indeed look at Margaret in a new way if they learned of her involvement. But she kept her mouth shut, knowing her sister would not appreciate it.

“The true problem is our parents,” Victoria ventured. “It would reflect badly upon them.”

“Father was furious when he learned of it. It would be humiliating to him in the House of Lords.” Margaret set the letter aside. “We must put a stop to this.”

“Is there someone Lady Sarah could marry?” Amelia asked. “Or could we afford a house for her?” It wasn’t what she wanted to do, but it was all she could think of.

“If we help her once, she’ll only demand more.” Margaret shook her head. “No, we can’t pay it. It’s blackmail, after all. Victoria, I believe you should ask His Grace what he thinks we should do.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you of this sooner,” Amelia admitted. “I was hoping she would give up on the idea.”

Margaret let out a slow breath. “I won’t let her ruin everything we’ve worked so hard to create. And if she dares to breathe a word about Aphrodite’s Unmentionables, she’ll regret it.”

It became impossible for Amelia to avoid Viscount Lisford. He’d sent her flowers every day, along with badly written poetry. Worst of all, he shadowed her at every gathering she attended. It seemed that the more she tried to stay away from him, the harder he pursued her.

She needed to open her eyes to the other gentlemen during the Season, but although many were kind and the sort of man her mother would approve of, Amelia found herself comparing them to Lord Castledon.

What is the matter with me?
she wondered.
He’s meant for Margaret.

The earl would never consider her for a bride, especially after the way she’d made him a list of other candidates and practically forced him on her sister. In fact, he’d spent a good deal of time with Miss Harrow, and he’d also spoken with a few other women on the list. But each time she saw him with them, a shard of illogical jealousy poked at her. Sometimes she wished she could stomp her wayward feelings into the ground.

“Miss Andrews?”

When she glanced behind her on the patio, she saw Lord Lisford waiting. She was strongly tempted to pretend that she hadn’t heard him and to march in the other direction. But years of good manners prevented it.

She nodded in greeting to the viscount, who offered his arm. Amelia hesitated for a long moment, not wanting to encourage him. Before she could refuse, he said, “I haven’t gambled in a fortnight now. Ask any man here.”

She said nothing, but he came closer. “I promise you. That day in the gardens was the last time. You were right, you know. If I don’t make changes in my life, I’ll lose everything.”

Before she could leave, he took her hand and guided it to his arm. “Walk with me a moment, and let me tell you how you’ve influenced my life. You were my saving angel.”

Amelia’s stomach twisted in distaste as she recognized the emptiness of his flowery words. But she responded, “I am glad that you’re trying to stop gambling.” It was all she could offer him.

He continued leading her down the garden path, and she was now wishing she’d never taken a single step outside the ballroom.

“It’s more than that,” he said honestly. “I realized how much I need you. Amelia, my love, say that you’ll wed me.”

The words
Dear God, no
came to her lips, but she was prevented from speaking when he mashed his mouth upon hers. She was taken aback, and the next moment, his tongue tried to slip inside her mouth.

Her hand clenched into a fist, and she struck him hard across the jaw, jerking herself free. “No, I won’t marry you.” She wiped her hand across her mouth, still shaken by what he’d done. It was the most dreadful experience, and it left her horrified. “Leave me alone, and don’t ever come near me again.”

A blur of motion distracted her, and the Earl of Castledon emerged from the shadows. “Are you all right, Miss Andrews?”

Amelia knew she ought to be grateful for his interference, but instead, shame flooded through her, that he’d likely seen the viscount kissing her. Her hand also hurt from where she’d struck Lord Lisford. “Yes.” It was her pride that was gravely wounded. She should have known better than to accompany the viscount anywhere at all.

“I would suggest that you leave now,” the earl informed Lord Lisford. The hard edge to his voice made it evident that he would personally escort the viscount away if the man refused.

“You misunderstood what you saw,” the viscount argued. “I asked her to marry me.”

“And I believe she said no.” The earl started walking, half dragging Lord Lisford by the arm. “If you don’t go immediately, I’ll see to it that you’re carried out bleeding.”

Thankfully, the viscount obeyed and hurried out, not looking back. Amelia stood by Lord Castledon, her cheeks burning. She’d never been so humiliated, and right now, she couldn’t bear the thought of being near anyone. Her hands clenched against her arms, and she started walking toward the tall hedge, needing a moment to gather her composure.

“Did he hurt you?” came the earl’s voice from behind her.

“He kissed me when I didn’t want him to.” It was such a little thing, really, but confessing it aloud broke apart the shield over her hurt feelings. She couldn’t stop the tears from escaping, and she wished she could burrow into the hedgerow.

The earl held out his hand to her, and the act of kindness made her cry even more. He led her away, toward one of the stone walls. Amelia sank back against it, letting out her humiliation. “I shouldn’t have walked with him,” she wept. “I was trying to be polite, but then he forced me to kiss him. It was terrible!”

Amelia knew it wasn’t proper, but she couldn’t stop herself from leaning against the earl while she cried. His quiet strength was a balm to her wounded feelings, though she knew she was getting his cravat wet.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” she whispered.

“What wasn’t?” His hand curled around her neck, and the warmth of his hand granted her even more comfort.

“My first kiss.” She wiped her mouth again. “It was like a wet fish.” She lowered her voice so that no one would hear. “And then he tried to put his tongue in my mouth!” A shudder came over her. “Can you even imagine such a thing?”

The earl let out a cough that sounded as if he were trying to strangle a laugh. “It must have been terrible.”

“It was a nightmare,” Amelia agreed. “If that is what kissing is like, I shall never kiss a man again.”

His mouth curved into a smile. “That’s not what it’s like.”

She didn’t know what to believe. “Why would he think I’d want to kiss him?”

The earl’s hand remained upon her shoulder, and he murmured, “He wanted to kiss
you
. Any man would.”

Her heart stumbled a beat at the low resonance of his voice. She wished that Castledon would hold her closer, taking away this terrible memory. She wanted
his
mouth upon hers, not Lisford’s.

“Any man?” she whispered.

His blue eyes caught her meaning. For a fraction of a moment, she held her breath, wondering if he would. He cupped her cheek, and the touch of his hand made her close her eyes. She was so glad he’d been there to stop the viscount from harming her.

But then his hand drew away, and he said, “I’ll escort you back before they come looking for us.”

Her anticipation deflated as his hand moved down to her spine, guiding her into the open. Any man but him, he’d meant.

Amelia couldn’t help but feel a surge of disappointment. She couldn’t believe that at one time, she’d thought the Earl of Castledon had the personality of a handkerchief. No, he wasn’t a man to dance and engage in lively conversation. But that was because he’d suffered a great loss.

He’d shrouded his life, and behind the shield was a man who wasn’t afraid to defend a woman. His solitude was a different kind of strength, and she somehow wished that she could unlock his loneliness and find the man who had loved a woman with all his heart.

She stopped walking when they reached the terrace. “Thank you,” she told him softly, “for saving me.”

“I imagine Lisford will have a sore jaw tomorrow. Remind me not to make you angry.” He kept his tone light and walked alongside her on the pathway.

“Wait a moment,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to go back just yet.”

He was about to argue with her, but she touched his arm. “I’d rather not see anyone for another moment or two.”

He acceded but stepped back a pace, as if he didn’t want to stand too close to her. The night air was warm, and the light fragrance of rose and lavender mingled from the gardens. She studied the darkening sky. Although it was late, there was a faint hue of orange in the skies as the sun continued its descent.

He looked as if he didn’t know what to say to her, but Amelia ordered, “Don’t speak at all. Just be for a moment.” She closed her eyes, savoring the sensations of sunset against her skin, the blended fragrance of the garden…and the man at her side. In her imagination, she pictured him cupping her face between his hands and kissing her gently.

It wouldn’t happen, of course. He believed she was too young for him, and moreover, he wanted a straitlaced young woman to be a mother to his daughter.

But sometimes it was nice to dream.

Charles Newport, Viscount Lisford, gathered his composure, inwardly cursing himself for what he’d done. He’d thought he could transform Miss Andrews’s opinion of him by kissing her. Instead, she’d struck him, as if he had tried to accost her.

That hadn’t been his intention at all. He’d never kissed a woman who hadn’t wanted to be kissed. Women usually came to
him
. They hung upon his words, smiling and hoping he would grant them his attentions.

He was utterly bewildered by what had just happened. Now she would undoubtedly believe that he was a debaucher of women. It wasn’t that at all. But he’d sensed her impatience with him after he’d lost the fight at Vauxhall Gardens.

He’d needed that money. And how was he to know that his opponent would be a bloody Scot the size of an ox?

Worst of all was seeing Miss Amelia there. She’d been aghast at the sight of him being beaten bloody, and he’d known then that any attraction she’d felt toward him was disappearing. A sense of desperation strung tighter inside him, for he liked Amelia Andrews. She was beautiful, charming, and he enjoyed her honesty. She was so different from her sister, and a thorn of regret pricked at his conscience for what he’d done to Margaret.

This wasn’t the sort of man he wanted to be. He’d mistakenly believed that Amelia would forgive him if he kissed her. How was he to know that she would spurn him so quickly?

He owed her an apology, but likely she wouldn’t speak to him again. With a heavy sigh, he watched her from the shadows of the terrace. She stood among her sisters, but she didn’t appear to be having a good time.

His stupidity had cost him greatly this night, and he had to find a means of atoning for his errors. If he won Amelia’s heart, there would be a good dowry. All he had to do was convince her that he loved her. With the right words, she would believe him.

Her sister’s husband was the Duke of Worthingstone, and her father was a baron. Between the two of them, he had no doubt that Amelia Andrews was an heiress who would solve every last one of his financial woes.

An inner voice warned that her family would not be amicable to his courtship, after he’d abandoned Margaret Andrews. But then, that couldn’t be helped. Miss Andrews would not forgive him after he’d humiliated her, nor would her parents.