A Christmas Affair (28 page)

“Will he be in residence?” she asked worriedly, thinking that a “scamp” was the last person she would want around the twins. Lord knew they didn’t need any more encouragement to misbehave.

“I think it likely, as his mama won’t spring for him to set up his own establishment. But you needn’t worry,” he added, his eyes flicking in Joss’s direction. “It’s doubtful he should want to hang about the youngsters, but to be safe, I mean to drop a discreet word of warning in his ear. As I am one of his trustees, I’m sure we may rely on him to behave.”

Amanda flashed him a warm smile, grateful but not at all surprised that he had been able to read her mind. Despite the many differences between them, they were amazingly alike, a fact that boded well for their future. She would hate to spend the rest of her life trapped in constant acrimony.

The thought of their coming marriage brought a worried scowl to her face. She’d spent most of last night vacillating between fury over Justin’s cool machinations, and concern about the kind of wife she would make. She’d never given society a single thought, and she was honest enough to admit that she found the prospect of a London season more than a little daunting. What did she know of the
ton,
she brooded, sinking lower in her seat. She would consider herself fortunate if she and Amelia weren’t laughed right out of town for the country mice they were.

She cast Justin a surreptitious look, studying his handsome, aristocratic face with increasing unhappiness. She’d grown so accustomed to thinking of him strictly by his military title that she’d forgotten about this other aspect of his character. Although not the duke himself, he was still a lord, and his place in society would be assured. As his
wife, she would be expected to partake in the social round, and she found the thought of failing him completely unacceptable. In the next moment, however, her pride came quickly to her aid.

Why should she fail? she thought, her chin coming up with renewed determination. Her blood may not be so blue as Justin’s, but she was still a member of the gentry. Her family could trace its roots back to the Tudors, and more than one of her ancestors had distinguished themselves in Parliament. As for society, well, how much more different could it be than what she was used to? Admittedly London was much larger than Godstone, but she had managed quite nicely there.

Her eyes began sparkling with sudden excitement as she wanned to the thought. She’d never backed down from a single challenge in her life, and she was not about to do so now. She would take on society, she decided with a cool nod, and she would win. And if any of those high-born lords or ladies thought to make her feel like a country bumpkin, she would make them rue the day they were born. She settled back in her seat with a contented sigh, her sense of excitement increasing with each passing mile.

The journey to London took less than three days, and with the exception of the twins attempting to sneak aboard a mailcoach, it passed without incident. They arrived in London to find the city in the grips of a terrible chill, and they wasted no time in driving directly to Lady Varonne’s town house. One look at the Palladian-styled mansion with its elegant columns and portico, and Amanda’s heart sank to the toes of her new boots. All of the doubts and uncertainties that had been plaguing her rose up in a giant wave, and she whirled around to face Jus
tin.

“This is all a terrible mistake,” she blurted out, her cheeks paling with distress. “We can’t possibly stay
here!”

Justin, who had just handed Belinda over to a waiting footman, turned to Amanda, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “I agree that Wimpole Street isn’t exactly the heights of fashion,” he said slowy, more than a little taken aback by her declaration. “But it is more than respectable, I promise you. Besides, we needn’t stay here very long. Once we are married, we’ll be living in my house on Hanover Square.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Amanda’s cheeks now blazed with color at the very thought Justin should take her for such a snob. “I-I just meant . . .” and her voice trailed off as she sought the words to explain her trepidations.

“Well whatever you meant, it will have to wait,” Justin replied brusquely, stepping forward to take her arm. “It’s too damned cold out here to stand around debating the matter. Let’s go.” And he guided her into the house.

The next few minutes were a blur to Amanda. Amelia and the children stayed long enough to make their bows to their hostess, and then they went upstairs, leaving Amanda alone to face the countess, who was staring at her with undisguised interest.

“So you are Justin’s fiancée,” she said, her vague brown eyes moving over Amanda. “How odd. I thought Edward said your name was Amelia.”

“Well, actually” — Amanda shot Justin a beseeching look — “Amelia is my —”

“That silly boy never gets anything right,” Lady Lettita interrupted, shaking her blond head impatiently. “Ah well, at least the notice hasn’t been posted in the
Times,
otherwise I shudder to think of the talk it would cause. How
old are you?”

The sudden shift in conversation made Amanda blink in surprise. “I am six and twenty your ladyship, but —”

“That old? Heavens, I had no notion you were so long in the tooth! And please do call me Lady Lettita, if you will. Your ladyship sounds so
ancient,
don’t you agree? Almost as bad as being referred to as a dowager. I heard that awful Lady Jersey call me that at Almacks, and I quite longed to cut her dead. But that is old Sal for you, indiscreet as an opera singer. Would you like some tea? I know I am famished.”

Faced with such a flood of words, it was all Amanda could do not to laugh out loud. Justin had warned her his aunt was a widgeon, but he had neglected to tell her she was as talkative as a magpie. She sent him a reproving look before turning to the other woman.

“Tea sounds fine, Lady Lettita,” she said with a warm smile. “We haven’t eaten since our last stop and —”

“Is that your natural haircolor?” Lady Lettita asked, cocking her head to one side as she studied Amanda. “Of course it is, for I can see you are far too well-bred to resort to dying your hair. We were all so worried when Justin announced he was marrying. I mean, he had been abroad for so
long
and heaven only knows what sort of foreign thing he might have foisted off on us. Of course, Edward did assure us he was marrying a perfectly respectable miss from Surrey. But then, he also told us that your name was Amelia, and that you were just nineteen. Not that I mean to be hard on him, mind. He can’t help it, being a man. Well, if you are hungry, I had best be about getting you some tea. Pray make yourselves comfortable. I will be back shortly,” and she walked out of the door, still talking.

There was a moment of blessed silence, and then
Amanda and Justin were both laughing. “My word, is she always so talkative?” Amanda asked, settling back in the cream and rose settee and spreading out the skirts of her gold velvet travelling gown.

“Always,” Justin assured her, cautiously leaning back against one of the tiny gilded chairs that dotted the opulent parlor. The room had been redone since the last time he had visited, and he found the lavish rococo style to be excessive. He hastily revised his plans to have Aunt Letty assist Amanda in redecorating Dover House.

“And before you ask,” he added as Amanda opened her mouth to speak, “no, she did not talk her husband to death. His lordship died quite properly of the grippe. Although”—his amber-flecked eyes took on a wicked sparkle—“ ’twas said it was the tantalizing prospect of eternal peace that finally carried him off.”

“Justin!” Amanda was both shocked and delighted by his outrageous remark. “What a terrible thing to say!”

“Then, why are you laughing?”

“I’m not!” she denied, her lips quivering with the effort not to smile. In the end it was more than she could endure, and she gave in to the laughter bubbling up inside her. “You are a wretch,” she accused, once she had regained a modicum of control. “I think Elliott is the least of our worries where the twins are concerned.”

“If you are accusing me of being an improper influence on those two, then ’tis a charge I must deny. It is they who have influenced me,” Justin said, equally delighted. He was not usually given to light talk — Old Sobersides, Edward had once called him — and he found it both fascinating and provocative to sit and exchange witticisms with his future bride.

“That is so,” she agreed, tilting her head back and shooting him an unconsciously challenging smile. “I seem
to recall thinking what a dreadful prig you were when first we met. How nice to see that there is some hope for you yet.”

Before he could reply to this interesting sally, Lady Lettita returned and soon took control of the conversation. Over the lavish tea that followed, she outlined her plans for both Amelia’s and Amanda’s coming out, blithely ignoring the latter’s increasingly vociferous objections.

“Well, of course you will be presented at Court!” she exclaimed when Amanda finally managed to get a word in edgewise. “What else has Prinny to do, I ask you? Even his oldest flirts are cutting him dead these days.”

“But we are in mourning!” Amanda protested, not for the first time. “It will not do for us to be presented at such a time.”

“Naturally you are in mourning,” Lady Lettita said, glowering at Amanda with marked impatience. “
Everyone
is in mourning. Those the French haven’t killed off the pox has. I have already spoken to Ladies Jersey and Hertford, and they have assured me there will be no problem at all with your being presented at Court, although naturally you must not waltz. You do waltz?” Here she shot Amanda a suspicious frown.

“I do not desire that my wife should waltz,” Justin interrupted, deciding the time had come to rescue his beleagured fiancée. “And I am sure Captain Maxfield feels the same about Amelia.”

“Oh, pray, Justin, don’t be so horribly
gothic,”
Lady Lettita retorted with a shudder. “You can not expect your wife to live in your pocket; it is simply not done in our world. Next I suppose you’ll want to drape her in Quaker’s robes, not showing so much as an ankle or a bit of shoulder.”

“Naturally I would expect my wife to dress in a respect
able fashion,” Justin answered, his good humor wavering slightly. He’d forgotten how very stubborn his aunt could be beneath her pile of artfully arranged curls.

“There’s a man for you,” Lady Lettita turned her shoulder on Justin. “As if one could utter fashion and respectable in the same breath! But never you fret, my dear. I have arranged for you to see my modiste, and she’ll soon have you up to scratch.” She gave Amanda a cursory look that spoke volumes.

Amanda glanced down at her new travelling dress in bewilderment. She’d thought the garment bang up to the nines, and Lady Letitta’s comment drove home how very much she had to learn. Had it been left to her, she would have politely consigned her loquacious hostess to the devil, but she was not the only one involved. She turned to Justin with a worried look.

“My lord, do you think I —” she began hesitantly, only to be interrupted by Lady Lettita.

“My heavens, child, never ask a
husband
for permission to shop! If it was up to those wretches, we poor women would be reduced to wearing rags! No, you must trust my judgement on this. Now, tomorrow we will go directly to Madame Chiennette’s and throw ourselves on her tender mercies. New Year’s Eve is almost upon us, and we must look sharp if you are to appear properly gowned.” She turned back to Justin. “When is the wedding?”

“I’ll have to talk to Edward,” Justin replied, abandoning the field to his aunt. “Although I hope it will be soon. I’ve already arranged for a Special License.”

“We’ll say two weeks, then,” she turned back to a wide-eyed Amanda. “Naturally I will buy your trousseau; as Justin’s only female relation, ’tis my right. How fortunate your hair is red; it will look perfectly lovely streaming down your back. You will set the
ton
on its ears. Now,
about your sister, I know she is already betrothed, but I know the most
charming
viscount . . ,” and she rattled on until Amanda’s mind went quite numb.

It was almost two o’clock before Justin was able to take his leave. After promising Lady Lettita that he and Edward would return for dinner, he dragged Amanda from the parlor, insisting he needed to bid the rest of the family
adieu.
Once they were out of earshot, he turned to her with a cheeky grin.

“My apologies for abandoning you to the enemy, ma’am,” he said, reaching out a tanned finger to lightly caress her cheek. “If there was any respectable way for me to remain, believe me, I would do so.”

“Oh, I believe you sir . . . almost,” Amanda replied, willing herself not to blush. Except for that passionate kiss on Christmas Day, he hadn’t touched her in anything approaching a personal manner. Of course, the children had been in almost constant attendance, and the rigors of travel were hardly conducive for lovemaking. But still. . . . Her color deepened at the direction of her thoughts, and she shifted shyly away.

“Almost?” Justin drawled, fascinated by the rosy blush stealing across Amanda’s cheeks.

“Well, I am sure I would believe you completely were it not for the relieved look in your eyes,” she answered in a rallying tone, praying he hadn’t noticed her discomfiture. “But you needn’t think you are leaving me totally without defense. I am sure the twins will provide the necessary firepower should I have need of it.”

“I’m sure they shall,” he replied smiling at her quick wit. “And knowing Aunt as I do, you may rest assured that you will have need of all the . . . er . . . firepower
they can muster. Now, let us go check on our troublesome brats” he said, leading her up to the nursery. “They have been out of sight for almost three hours, and I shudder to think of the mischief they may have already fallen into.”

After leaving Lady Lettita’s, Justin went directly to Edward’s house on Grovesnor Square. The butler who took his greatcoat and hat was a relic from his father’s days, and Justin politely exchanged greetings with him before going in search of his brother. He found him in his study, his dark head bent over his account books.