His Jilted Bride (Historical Regency Romance) (18 page)

“
Oh, all right.” He flashed her a hopeful smile. “Perhaps in
time you'll grow to love Mr. Henry Hirsute the same as I
do.”

“
The chances of Henry—both of them—having a love match are
greater than your chances of convincing me to touch
that.”

Elijah let out a low
whistle. “My chances are worse than I thought.” He took to his feet
and looked around the room. “But, in the unlikely event that
Henry
does
have a
love match, I cannot say fare-thee-well to Mr. Henry Hirsute. You
might change your mind and decide you want to pet him.”

“
The two events are not related, Elijah.”

“
I know.” He picked up the box and walked it into the common
room where he set it on an end table, then scooted it in front of
the large window on the east side of the room. He walked back into
the bedchamber and said, “Just because your touching Mr. Henry
Hirsute isn't dependent on Henry making a love match, doesn't mean
I can't try to convince you to touch him again.”

“
Try
is the most important word in
that sentence.”

He lifted his left
shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “That's all right. One may never know
for sure if he doesn't try.” Elijah walked over to her and picked
up her gown. “Now, let me see if I can
try
to get you into this gown so
we
can
go to Bath
and have an enjoyable day together.”

Chapter Seventeen

Elijah was a surprisingly good lady's
maid.

Never once did he knot her tapes or
struggle to get them tied. His fingers were deft and quick as he
fastened the row of buttons that ran up the back of her
dress.

“
All done,” he whispered in her ear.

The skin on her neck turned to
gooseflesh at the roughness in his voice and the nearness of his
warm body to hers. He smelled spicy, of sandalwood and his lips
were so close to her she could feel his breath against her
skin.

Reluctantly, she took a step forward.
She wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms and longed to
let him hold her tight. But that wasn't his way. He didn't see her
as anything but a friend, and that wasn't the way friends acted
toward each other—only lovers. Hastily, she picked up her bonnet
and tied it on, then scooped up her reticule and craned her neck to
look out the window. “Is that carriage for us?”

“
No. I thought we'd walk to Bath. I just asked Damon to pull
it over here so we could say goodbye to the horses before we began
our journey.”

Amelia pursed her lips, but it did no
good, her laughter still escaped. “Forgive my stupid question. I
think this gown is so tight it is cutting off the flow of blood to
my brain.”

Elijah's eyes did a slow sweep of her,
sending a new round of chills over her body as his gaze lingered at
her chest and hips. “Do you want to take it off?” he asked
hoarsely, his face growing bright red. He cleared his throat. Then
again. “What I meant is if the dress is too tight, I can help you
into another if you'd like.”

Ah, there was the impartial Elijah
she'd married. “No. I'm sure I'll get accustomed to it.” She
smiled. “Besides, as we walk around, it might become a bit
looser.”

“
Until you eat the ca—” He closed his mouth with a sharp
snap.

She laughed. “Yes, we might have to
forgo the cake after all.”

“
That's not what I—”

Amelia pressed her fingers to his lips
to halt his words. “I know you didn't mean it that way.”

He pulled her hand away, but didn't
let it go. “Are you sure, because it sounded—”

She covered his mouth with her other
hand now. “Stop. We both promised not to think poorly of the other
today.” She lifted a single eyebrow. “Or have you decided to renege
already.”

Beneath her fingers, his lips turned
up into a lopsided grin. “Never,” he said against her fingers. He
pulled her hand from his lips and was now holding them both. “But
just so you can't say I didn't warn you, if you press your fingers
to my lips again, you'd better be prepared for the
consequences.”

“
Which are?”

He showed no sign of noticing how her
voice had hitched on those two words, merely bent his head and
pressed a kiss just below the edge of her glove on each wrist, then
released her hands. “Do it again and you'll find out.”

Her breath caught and she curled her
fingers into her palms, the skin on her wrists still burning from
where he'd kissed her as if he'd touched her with a branding iron
instead of his lips. Suddenly overly warm, she snapped up her fan.
“If we're to walk all the way to Bath, we'd better start now or we
won't make it there and back in time for Caroline's costume ball on
Friday.”

“
You really think it would take us a day and a half to walk
ten miles to Bath and another day and a half to walk the ten miles
back home?”

“
Of course. Have you ever tried to walk in a pair of ladies'
slippers?”

“
Would you believe me if I said I had?”

She wagged her finger at him
playfully. “Trying on your mother's shoes when you were four
doesn't count.”

He brought both of his hands up to
rest on his cheeks in a show of what she presumed to be feigned
embarrassment. “How did you know about that?”

“
Henry.”

He dropped his hands back to his
sides. “I should have known,” he muttered. “As much as I hate to
disappoint you and your dreams of walking to Bath, the carriage is
waiting and the horses are starting to sound impatient.”

“
You're the one who keeps delaying our departure by
chatting.”

He reached forward and shoved a lock
of her fallen hair into the edge of her bonnet. “There's no crime
in a man chatting with his wife, is there?”

“
Only if he enjoys it.”

“
Then we must cease at once,” he said between clenched teeth,
his eyebrows shooting halfway up his forehead. He made a show of
looking over each shoulder and out the window, then leaned close to
her and said in a stage whisper, “Good. I don't think anyone saw
us.”

Amelia swatted playfully at his
shoulder. “If you ever find yourself in need of employment, I'd
suggest you look for a post as a lady's maid because you'd be a
horrible spy.”

“
Me? A horrible spy?” He darted his gaze over her left
shoulder and then her right as if he were slyly examining their
surroundings.

“
The worst ever,” she said, trying to suppress her
laughter.

He slapped his palm against his chest
with a resounding thud and gasped. “Surely not. Have you met every
spy?”

“
No.”

“
Then how would you know I'm the worst ever?” he questioned,
throwing his hands into the air; his eyes alight with
laughter.

His facial expression and hand
gestures were just too much! “You're absurd.”

“
Absurd? You're the one who suggested I become a lady's
maid.”

“
And can you deny that you wouldn't enjoy the job?”

“
I think that would depend on whose lady's maid I
was.”

She pulled on her overcoat. “No need
to tax yourself with worry about finding a desirable lady to work
for,” she said, plucking up her scarf since it was still a little
cool outside this time of year. “I'll be sure to write you a very
high letter of recommendation.”

He leaned close to her ear as she
wrapped her scarf around her neck. “Could you be sure to address
said letter to yourself?” Then, before she could recover her wits
enough to form a response, he was gone.

***

Elijah threaded his fingers though his
hair, then gave it a quick tug. What was he doing? He'd told her
this morning he was content to just be her friend and then he'd
gone on to make several inappropriate remarks and even kiss
her.

He took in a deep breath; then
another. He needed this. Fresh air, that is. Amelia had only been
staying in the cabin with him for a few days and already it smelled
of her. And frankly, the smell was enough to intoxicate a man and
impair his judgement. He kicked a rock with the toe of his boot and
watched it roll a good ten feet away, stopping only when Amelia
arrested it with her slipper-clad foot.

Shamelessly, he let his eyes move
slowly from her feet up. He swallowed uncomfortably. What he could
see of her gown between her unbuttoned overcoat, it clung to her
almost like a second skin, hugging her in all the right places. He
reluctantly dragged his eyes away before he could surrender to his
impulse and touch her, destroying any shred of trust he'd managed
to build today.

He sobered instantly. He couldn't give
her the truth like Alex had suggested—not yet anyway, but he could
show her that he was worthy of her trust and good opinion. She'd
know soon enough that she wasn't increasing, if she didn't already.
His face heated. Most gentlemen knew next to nothing about female
matters. Elijah's father, however, ensured his sons knew more than
most. Alex probably didn't mind the knowledge, and likely felt the
need to inform him of any discoveries he'd read about on the topic
that might have come after Father had studied it. When the time
came for Elijah and Henry to be informed, neither could get out of
the room fast enough. Just now though, he was grateful for the
knowledge because at least he didn't have to ask carefully worded
questions to ensure she knew at least that particular
truth.

“
Are you going to take me to Bath for a slice of cake or stare
at me all day?”

“
I'm still waiting for you to get into the carriage,” Elijah
said without hesitation. He offered her his arm and helped her into
the carriage.

“
I haven't been here in what feels like ages,” Amelia marveled
a short time later as the carriage rolled down Milsom
Street.

“
That's not true. I saw you dance at one of the local
assemblies a few years ago.”

“
You did?” Her brows drew together in confusion. “I don't
remember you there.”

“
I was there but a few minutes,” he said dismissively. That
was true enough, and all she needed to know. He
had
been there only a few minutes.
That was all it took for him to realize the fellow he'd been
seeking wasn't at that particular assembly. He'd found him a week
later in Cambridge. He shook his head to clear his thoughts of the
menaces of society. It did no good to dwell on them. Once the two
involved in the prostitution ring were brought to justice, he'd be
done with his work and could relax into a quiet country life,
perhaps as a lady's maid. Most preferably Amelia's lady's
maid.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head
back against the red velvet squabs of Alex's carriage. No gentleman
wanted to be a lady's maid—that required he help her redress, and
that was the last thing he wanted to do. He leaned his head to the
right a couple of inches, then abruptly brought it to the left,
hitting it against the hard inside shell of the carriage. Stars
burst in front of his eyes, and just as quickly they disappeared.
Dash it all. Hitting his head against the wall didn't knock any
sense into his head anymore than it knocked out the image of
helping Amelia undress. The truth was, he had no business thinking
about her in such a way. As history had already shown, in three
short days at that, she did not appreciate his advances, and he'd
do well to remember that.

“
Are you all right?”

Elijah straightened. “Hmm?”

“
Your head.”

Mindlessly, Elijah raised his fingers
to his head where he now found a knot quickly forming. “Oh, it's
nothing. We must have hit a bump.”

She didn't look convinced, but he
didn't care. He'd rather take his chances of running barefoot next
to a bush infested with adders than admit he'd been thinking of
undressing her. “Are you sure,” she said, reaching up toward his
head.

He moved his head back to evade her
touch and put his hand out to stay hers. “I'm fine. I
promise.”

She pursed her lips and turned her
head to look at him from the corner of her eye. “You'd better be.
I'd hate to have to return early with you pleading a
headache.”

“
Not to worry, I wouldn't dream of cutting our time short
today.”

Chapter Eighteen

Amelia misstepped. Something about the
seriousness in his tone had caught her unawares. It had been deep
and silky, purposeful.

She forced a shaky laugh. She was
being ridiculous. His tone had been no different than it always
was. She was just more acutely aware of him today for some reason.
His scent and presence both seemed more commanding. His body
radiating with a heat she couldn't ignore.