A Secret Proposal (9 page)

Amelia sat in Lily Morgan’s drawing room wringing her hands. She was nervous. Nervous and frightened. Lily had informed her that Devon had won the tournament and Thad was on his way. All Amelia could think about was seeing him again. She had to admit when Lily had first proposed the boxing match bet, Amelia had been convinced it would never work. Even if Lord Colton managed to win, she couldn’t imagine Thad proposing as a result. But apparently, Thad took a bet seriously. Very seriously indeed.

Amelia paced back and forth in front of the mantel. Convincing Thad to propose wasn’t the only problem she faced. Far from it. How exactly would she ever tell Mama what she was planning to do?

A rap sounded on the door and Amelia whirled around. She had almost convinced herself that she’d imagined the knock, but then the door swung open and Thad stood there looking breathtakingly handsome. He had a black eye and a cut on his nose. But otherwise, he looked absolutely delectable. She ran to his outstretched arms.

Thad hugged her close.

“I knew you would come,” she said. “Did Lord Colton do that to your face?”

Thad smiled, wryly. “Yes. But you should see him.”

Amelia couldn’t help her answering smile. Thad, always cocky. “Are you all right?”

“Perfectly. I let him win.”

“You did?”

He winked at her. “Can’t let the old man feel bad about his age. But the fact was it was a draw that likely would have gone on throughout the night if I hadn’t taken a fall. Besides, I may have lost, but I really won.”

“What do you mean?”

“The truth is I was curious as hell to discover what forfeit he wanted from me.”

“And?”

Thad touched her cheek. “My forfeit was to tell the woman I love that I love her.”

Amelia sucked in her breath.

“And that’s why I’m here, Amy. To tell you…”

Time stood still.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you, too, Thad.” She wrapped her arms around him again.

“And I have every intention of asking you to marry me and I sincerely hope you’ll say yes, but first, there’s something I must tell you.”

Amelia’s chest went tight. She already knew. He wanted to tell her what had happened the
morning Paul died.

“Thad, no. It’s not necessary. We don’t have to—”

“Yes,” he answered firmly. “It is necessary. I’ve put this off far too long and I cannot in good conscience let you believe you love me if you don’t know the truth.”

Amelia swallowed. “Very well.” She nodded.

Thad took her hand and led her over to the settee. She sat and he paced in front of her. She stared at his boots traveling back and forth across the Aubusson rug in the Morgans’ finely appointed drawing room. He paused and Amelia trailed her gaze up his body. He looked so handsome. So handsome and so vulnerable.

She loved him.

Her heart was near to bursting with love for him. This man was one of the only people left who knew her brother, who remembered her brother, who had loved her brother. And now she loved him. She didn’t care if he owned a boxing saloon and had a tarnished reputation. She didn’t care if he didn’t have a title and Mama would never accept him. She couldn’t live her life for Mama any longer. She realized that now, watching Thad pace across the carpet, his hands folded behind his back. She had to live it for herself. She straightened her shoulders. But how bad was what he was about to tell her?

Cold dread clutched at her heart. She’d never wanted to hear the story of the day Paul died. It would only hurt to learn the awful details and it could never bring her brother back. But for whatever reason, Thad felt he had to tell her. And she would listen. She would do this for the
man she loved. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, bracing herself.

“We’d been drinking that night,” Thad began, his voice calm. “Celebrating Paul’s engagement. We’d gone to Brooks’s and had a fine time. God, if only we’d gone home after that.”

Thad took a deep breath. “Instead we decided to go down to St. Giles, to a gin club we sometimes frequented.”

Amelia opened her eyes and furrowed her brow. “A gin club? In St. Giles?”

Thad nodded. “Unfortunately, it’s something stupid young gentlemen do frequently. Spending time in a St. Giles cellar. I’m not proud of it, but we thought it was such a lark.”

Amelia nodded. Young men were often up to such antics. Her brother had always liked to have a good time. It wasn’t particularly surprising.

“So we went down to this club we’d been to a few times and these two blokes were there. Locals. We’d argued with them a time or two before, but it was usually in drunken fun and quickly over. We’d never got violent with them.”

Amelia swallowed. “And you did…that night?”

“I told them that Paul had just got engaged and we were celebrating. One of the blokes said something about Lady Evelyn.”

Amelia put her hand to her throat. “Oh no.” She could well imagine Paul would not let such a thing go. “Then what happened?”

“I’ll spare you their words, but suffice it to say it was quite crude. Paul wasn’t about to let
them speak of his fiancée that way.”

“No, of course not,” Amelia replied. Pure dread was slowly creeping up her spine.

“The exchange became heated quickly and Paul challenged the man who’d said it.”

“To a duel?” Amelia gulped.

“Yes.”

For the first time since Thad had begun talking, Amelia let out a sigh of relief. “Mama had always led me to believe that Paul had died serving as
your
second. But now you’re telling me that wasn’t the case at all. Paul had been the one to challenge the man to a duel. He died defending Lady Evelyn’s honor.” Amelia stood to embrace Thad, but he placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to sit back down.

“Let me finish,” he said.

There was that dread again, pooling in her belly. Amelia glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. There was more?

Thad continued his pacing. “We met them outside of London on Hightower Field at dawn. I, of course, agreed to be Paul’s second and the bloke who’d challenged him had his friend there too. Dr. Murdock arrived soon after.”

Amelia nodded. She’d already known that much. But what had happened? If Paul had not been Thad’s second, why hadn’t he told Mama as much that awful day?

“Pistols were chosen and the appropriate paces were taken.” Thad closed his eyes as if the next part were particularly difficult for him to relate. “Paul turned and lobbed his firearm into the
air. The consummate gentleman, as always.”

Tears streamed down Amelia’s face. Her shoulders shook. “And the other man, Paul’s opponent. He didn’t…he didn’t fire into the air too, did he?”

Thad’s jaw was clenched tightly. “No. He didn’t. He shot at Paul.” Thad took a long, ragged breath. “But he missed.”

Amelia’s head snapped up. “What? What can you mean? If he missed, what happened?”

Thad slowly expelled his breath. “We were all walking back to the carriages—honor had been satisfied, after all, and to be honest, Paul and I were relieved it was over. But as we walked back, I said something. Something I’ll always regret.”

Amelia’s shaky hand went to her throat again. “What happened, Thad?” The words tripped out of her dry throat.

“I called the man a coward…for firing at Paul.”

Amelia closed her eyes. Oh, God. “And then?”

“His friend challenged me. But not to a duel, the pistols were already fired. He challenged me to a fight. A bare-knuckled fight, right then and there.”

Amelia’s whole body shook. “And you fought him?”

“Yes. We fought. And when it was obvious that I wasn’t going to win, was mostly likely going to die in fact, Paul stepped in and tried to fight for me.”

Amy shook her head. “No. No,” she whispered.

“The first bloke stepped forward. He was a huge man, a bruiser. There had been a chance
against him at pistols, but in a fight, there was no reason to think Paul or I could best him.”

Tears streamed down Amelia’s face.

“It was over quickly.” Thad bowed his head. “The man only took a few swings at Paul before he hit him so hard his neck snapped.”

“No!” Amelia doubled over. She wanted to vomit. Paul, her beloved Paul, had been beaten to death. She’d had no idea. She’d always believed he’d been shot.

Thad’s voice was quiet. “Dr. Murdock couldn’t do anything. It was too late, and the two men took off immediately, leaving me a bloody pile on the field. I crawled over to Paul’s body and I…” He took a shaky breath. “I wept like a baby, Amelia. And then, I gathered myself up and came to tell your mother.”

Amelia’s heart was broken. She was sick. Nauseated, dizzy. Her entire world was spinning. “I need to be alone,” she choked, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat.

Thad nodded. “I’ll go.”

Amelia asked the coachman to drive round the park again and again. She’d left Lily Morgan’s town house hours ago but she couldn’t go home, not home. Not yet. By the time she finally instructed the coachman to head in that direction, the streetlights were being lit. She sat there still, thinking, thinking. Thinking about Paul’s death, all the emotion she had barely let herself feel in all these years, thinking about Thad and her feelings for him, what he’d meant to her now and then. But worst of all, her mind could not stop replaying those last awful moments of her brother’s life. His neck had been snapped by a hideous, violent man when Paul had intervened to save a friend’s life. Mama had been wrong all these years, Paul had not originally been Thad’s second. But the truth of how it all actually unfolded was too awful to contemplate.

Paul had always been dutiful. He’d done what he was told and never made Mama angry. Amelia had been the opposite. Mama was rarely pleased with her. However, since Papa had begun drawing up the betrothal contract with the Duke of Stanford, Mama had nearly floated around the house humming, she was so pleased. And Amelia had been torn as to whether or not to do her duty.

But that was Mama’s life. What Mama wanted. It wasn’t what Amelia wanted or even what she could bear. Not anymore. Because there was one thing Amelia knew for certain after hours
of circling the park…if Paul had lived, if he had had the chance to live the life he wanted, he wouldn’t have lived that life.

And now, now Amelia realized exactly what she must do. She must live the life
she
wanted. Her own life. The one she was granted and given and able to live. She must live it for herself, but she must also live it for Paul who would never be able to live his own. She’d never wanted to marry a man solely of her mother’s choosing. She realized that now. Reading the pamphlet had been nothing but an excuse to cry off from the Marquis of Colton last spring. And choosing those old men had just been an attempt at getting it all over with quickly. But she deserved more than that. She deserved better than that. She deserved love, and happiness, and to live her own life.

Thad. Her heart twisted for him. When she’d first seen him again last week, she’d noticed how strong he’d become, muscled and broad chested. But now she realized why he’d become a great boxer. Why he was so determined to beat everyone. He’d done it all, for Paul. He hadn’t been able to fight off the thug that day outside London and Paul had tried to save him and died. So Thad had become the best boxer in town. Tossed his reputation aside and started his own club, in fact.

All to make up for his shortcomings that day three years ago. He was racked with guilt. And what she’d asked of him had made it worse. He was trying to make amends to their family every single day of his life. And she loved him for it.

But she knew now. She wanted to marry him. Marry him and spend the rest of her life with him. And who gave a toss what Mama thought? Amelia was through answering to Mama.

When the coach finally pulled to a stop in front of Papa’s town house, Amelia got out and rushed up the front steps. She pushed open the front door and strode purposefully inside. Hannah was dusting a sideboard in the foyer.

“Where’s Mama?” Amelia asked.

Hannah hesitated. “She’s in the…attic.”

The attic?

Not bothering to stop and ask questions, Amelia took the stairs two at a time. She’d never even been up to the attic; she’d barely known it existed and Mama certainly wasn’t one to do things she might otherwise send the servants to do. A strange sense of dread clutched at Amelia’s heart.

She went faster, rushing up the stairs and bursting through the door. Mama was there, standing in the corner. Amelia glanced about, looking at all of the furnishings surrounding her mother.

It was Paul’s, all of it.

All of her brother’s things were there, set up just like his bedroom from three years ago. Mama had been running a finger across his bedside table. She glanced up at Amelia and a look of horror crossed her face.

It struck Amelia then. Mama had pretended to the world that she hadn’t cared, didn’t need to mourn, but silently, she’d been mourning all these years. She hadn’t discarded Paul’s things at all. She’d just hidden them up here, away from the world, in her own private place where she could come and be close to him. Tears filled Amelia’s eyes.

Oh, Mama, why didn’t you let me mourn with you? It would have been so much easier on both of us
.

Her mother said nothing. Her chin shook. She was obviously making a desperate effort not to cry.

Amelia glanced down at her hands. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she
wasn’t wringing them in her mother’s presence. No more hand-wringing and no more being frightened. She would stand up to her mother this time, woman-to-woman.

“Mama,” she whispered.

Mama clenched her fists. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Amelia answered.

Mama stepped forward and her face went back to its usual harsh expression. “Yes, well, let’s go downstairs. It’s far too stuffy up here.” She put her arm through Amelia’s and began to escort her downstairs.

Amelia tugged her arm away and spun around. “Truly? You’re going to pretend like nothing’s happened? Like I didn’t see this?” She gestured to the room at large.

“See what?” Mama asked.

Oh God. Her mother was a crazy person.

Amelia expelled her breath. “This room. All of Paul’s things. Are you truly going to act as if this doesn’t exist?”

Her mother pulled up her shoulders. “I don’t see what that has to do with—”

“It has to do with everything!” Amelia shouted, whirling around to face her mother head-on.

“I do not like the tone of your voice, Miss.”

“I don’t care.” Amelia’s chest heaved with her indignation. “I don’t like a great many things you’ve done over the last several years. Over my whole life, actually. But I never had a choice. Admit it, Mama. You love him. You miss him.”

Her mother’s angry façade cracked just a bit. But just as quickly, her stoicism returned. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

“And it wasn’t Thad’s fault.”

Her mother took an angry step toward Amelia. “How dare you mention that name in this house!”

She raised a palm to slap Amelia but Amelia moved out of the way. Normally such defiance would have angered her mother more, but today Amelia didn’t care. Her mother’s shaking hand fell to her side.

“Thad Hammond didn’t kill Paul,” Amelia said, her hands clenched in fists at her side. “He and Paul were young and foolish. They made a mistake and got into a fight with the wrong men at the wrong time. Paul died honorably, defending his friend, and your hatred of Thad isn’t going to bring him back.”

Mama’s voice shook. “If Mr. Hammond hadn’t started the fight, Paul never would have been there that morning.”

“That’s not true, Mama.” Amelia took a step closer. “Paul was defending Lady Evelyn’s honor and Thad went with him as his second.”

Mama’s face fell and she hung her head. “No.”

Amelia’s heart broke. There was no sense in telling Mama the rest. She didn’t need to picture her only son with a broken neck. It was too cruel. But at least she finally knew the truth, that Thad hadn’t started the fight.

“Why are you so intent on defending Thad Hammond?” Mama asked brokenly.

“Because I love him, Mama. I love him and I intend to marry him. With or without your approval.”