Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (12 page)

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Authors: Samantha Grace

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General

BOOK: Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half
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Jake issued a half groan, half gasp. “My pleasure.”

Grasping her hips, he pulled her to the table’s edge and filled her. His head rolled back and he closed his eyes on a sigh. Slowly, he thrust in and out, driving her insane with lust.

He smiled down at her, locking eyes as he slid his hand up her thigh and touched the hardened pearl between her legs. A few long strokes over her quivering flesh sent her careening over the edge where she tumbled into the most delightful world of pleasure she had ever known.

“Jake, oh…”

Perhaps it was the sound of her voice or her fingers grazing his waist, but he pumped his hips in frantic movement, reaching his own completion with an outrushing of breath. After a moment, his heat withdrew, but before she could protest, he gathered her in his arms and sat back in the chair with her in his lap.

They held each other, slick with perspiration, and gazed into each other’s eyes. “I will never want another woman as long as I live, Mia.”

She had no cause for argument, because she could never give herself to anyone ever again either.

A strip of light cut across the floor as the door swung open. “Amelia?”

She gasped and ducked her head as Jake wrapped her in his arms.
Oh, dear heavens
. Let the earth swallow her whole now. Bibi would never let something like this pass without acknowledgment.

Jake didn’t bother to look at their interloper. “Lady Kennell, have you ever heard of knocking?”

“This is the breakfast room, Mr. Hillary.”

Amelia peeked over his shoulder to discover Bibi with her hand on her hip. “Just a moment longer, dearest?”

“Take your time,” Bibi said with a wink. “Should I request my toast in my chambers on the morrow?”

Amelia had no doubts she changed a telling shade of pink from head to toe. “That is unnecessary.”

“Very well. I wished to inform you I am retiring for the night.” Bibi backed from the room, pulling the door closed as she left.

“Sleep well,” Amelia called out then groaned and dropped her head against Jake’s shoulder.

Twelve
 

Bibi remained at Verona House the next day well beyond the time a hostess could expect her guest to leave. Not even Bradford, with his irksome condescension, could drive Amelia’s stubborn friend from the town house this morning. Therefore, courtesy of Bibi’s thickheadedness, Amelia accepted that she couldn’t hide in her chambers all day to avoid an uncomfortable encounter and invited her to afternoon tea.

Bibi perched on the adjacent drawing room chair and nibbled a ginger biscuit. Her dark eyes penetrated, making Amelia wiggle in her seat.

“What a telling display of emotion,” Bibi said with a lift to her thin brow and note of mirth in her voice.

Amelia sighed and set the cup of tea on the matching bone china saucer. “I do not wish to discuss last evening’s events.”

“I didn’t inquire.”

“Splendid.” She prayed that would be the last spoken of her audacious behavior.

Bibi wrinkled her nose and chuckled. “But in the breakfast room? Really, my dear, I never thought you had it in you.”

Amelia broke into a light sweat and fanned her hands in front of her face. “Please, don’t remind me. I am mortified you discovered us in such a compromising position.”

With a cluck of her tongue, Bibi leaned forward to pat Amelia’s knee. “There, there. No need to act priggish with me. You know I would never judge you. Mr. Hillary can tup you on the rooftop for all I care. Certain indulgences are a mistress’s due.”


Mistress
?” Amelia jerked upright on the chair as if a lightning bolt shot down her spine. “I’m not Mr. Hillary’s mistress.”

“Then what are you? Surely you will bed him more than once.”

Amelia licked her lips and adjusted her position on the chair. She hadn’t thought to label their relationship or their respective roles. But she didn’t wish to be a mistress, even Jake’s. She had always considered herself best suited for the position of wife.

“I am certain Mr. Hillary has no intentions of making me his mistress.”

“Amelia, do not pretend you are ignorant to what gentlemen are about. We are widows.” Bibi shook her head, her mouth turning down in a troubled frown. “What is it you expect from him, my dear? An offer for your hand?”

Amelia reached for the white teapot and busied herself with refilling her cup, even though it was almost full. When Jake had asked her to remain faithful to him and declared he wanted no other, she had assumed he wished to remain together forever. Marriage was the only alternative she would consider.

“Amelia.” Sympathy saturated Bibi’s tone. “Gentlemen do not exercise amorous rites with their wives any place besides the bedchamber. Only a mistress can drive a man to lose his head as Mr. Hillary did last night.”

“You are mistaken about Jake.” She spoke with complete confidence, but it was a falsehood. Amelia’s judgment of men had been anything but exact over the years. She wanted Bibi to be wrong, but she feared her friend held superior knowledge of men.

“I hope you are correct about Mr. Hillary,” Bibi said with a delicate shrug. “Nevertheless, becoming his mistress is hardly a reason to be glum. His pockets run deep, you know. Shall I casually mention your fondness for diamonds in the next encounter with the gentleman?”

“I will thank you to tend your own affairs.”

Bibi sipped her tea. “It’s no trouble.”

Amelia cleared her throat, ready to change the subject. “About Lord Norwick…”

“What about him?”

She drank from her teacup to stall. Bibi had never been amenable to advice, no matter how well intentioned, and based upon the stubborn hitch of her chin, she wasn’t about to welcome Amelia’s opinion. Yet, she must try to reason with her friend.

“Perhaps you should take pains to avoid him.”

“Whatever for? Norwick is delightfully refreshing. Granted, he is nothing like the gentlemen who usually capture my attention. For one thing, he is thoughtful. How many gentlemen would alter their course to aid a lady in distress?”

Likely hundreds if there was a chance for a show of gratitude such as Bibi had shown Lord Norwick. Entering her drawing room to discover Bibi’s bare foot in the earl’s hand had been arresting, though a foot in the hand was unequal to the wild tryst she’d had with Jake. Even now, she blushed with the memory of her wanton behavior.

“Indeed, the earl is kind,” Amelia said, “but it is no secret his sister wishes you banned from London.”

“All of
England
, dear Amelia. Her ambitions are farther reaching than a mere town. Why, she would exile me to St. Helena with Bonaparte if she had her way.”

“Precisely my point. What might she do in retaliation for dallying with her brother? She has him under her finger, from all accounts.”

Bibi flicked a hand. “Lady Troll doesn’t concern me, and neither should she concern you.”

The sparkle in her eyes and knowing smile increased the tightness in Amelia’s chest. Bearing witness to the direct cuts Bibi had received over the last months often made Amelia want to cry on her behalf. Her friend didn’t deserve the cruel treatment she received at Lady Banner’s instigation. Amelia must make one more attempt to deter her.

“Are you certain an association is wise? There are other gentlemen with less malicious relations.”

“You fret too much.” Bibi rose from the chair. “Now I must hie off to Kennell Place. I have correspondence awaiting my attention.”

***

 

Jake shaded his eyes from the bright afternoon light as he exited Brook’s. Judging by the sun’s position, he had time to change his attire and visit the mews before calling on Amelia. The toe of his boot struck something—a trousers-clad leg lying across the pathway—and he stumbled forward, barely correcting his footing in time to save himself.

“Damnation!”

He whirled around to discover a thoroughly foxed Lord Ellis sprawled against the side of the building. The earl had left Brook’s a few moments earlier, but clearly should have had an escort.

Ellis blinked up at Jake. “What’re you doin’ in my coach, Hillary?”

“You have taken up residence on the streets, my lord.”

“Splendid. Call for a blanket.” His head bobbed before his chin dropped down on his chest.

“Perhaps you should reconsider before your unfortunate circumstances are heralded in the gossip rags.” Jake looked up and down St. James Street. “I don’t see your conveyance. Are you on foot?”

Ellis’s eyes drifted closed. “I am on my bum.”

Jake kicked his boot, causing the earl to jerk. His eyes fluttered open a moment, but then he was asleep again.

Stooping to place an arm under Ellis’s shoulder, Jake helped him to his feet and held on as he swayed forward. “Wake up, you rotter. Have a bit of common sense. I cannot leave you to the pickpockets. My carriage comes this way now. I’ll give you a lift.”

When the landau rolled to a stop and the footman lowered the step, Jake assisted Ellis inside where he collapsed on the velvet seat.

Taking the seat opposite, Jake studied the earl. He had never known the man to be a Lushington, not any more than the average fellow.

“Minx’ll make a match ’fore the week’s out,” Ellis mumbled and slumped on the bench.

Lady
troubles
. No more explanation was required. “Blasted minxes have been known to drive a man to an early grave.”

Ellis cracked open an eye. “You’ve been stricken too?”

“I was, but everything has righted itself.”

Memories of his passionate evening with Amelia crowded in his mind, and he turned his smile toward the window. It wouldn’t do to flaunt his happiness when his companion was in despair.

“The lady won’t even speak to me,” Ellis said. “Put a toad in her bed once.”

“You might try a bouquet next time. Do you know nothing of women?”

The earl glowered. “I was but a lad at the time. Didn’t know how bloody beautiful she would become.”

“Rotten luck.”

Ellis grunted. The carriage rolled to a stop in front of his town house. The coachman opened the door and offered Ellis assistance. Once on the ground, the earl looked back over his shoulder as he clung to the servant. “Perhaps you’re correct, Hillary. A toad is no gift for a lady. Get your lady something nice.”

Jake supposed the man had a point. One must be thoughtful when courting a lady.

The servant delivered Ellis to his door then returned to seek instruction. “Are you returning to Hillary House, sir?”

He checked his watch. “First I must visit Rundell and Bridges.” He had arrived with flowers for Amelia yesterday. Today he would find something much better to express his adoration, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be a frog. A stone to match her beautiful, blue eyes would give his proposal the perfect touch.

***

 

Jake ignored the butler’s soured frown as he took his calling card.

“This way,
Mr.
Hillary.”

Bradford’s manner of addressing him was galling, but Jake grudgingly appreciated the man’s sense of protectiveness when it came to Amelia. He didn’t like to think of her living alone without someone watching over her.

As he followed the servant to the drawing room to wait, he glanced at the surroundings. Amelia had created a cozy home here at Park Street, elegant and understated in warm shades that reminded him of peaches and cinnamon. If she wished to retain the residence after their vows were spoken, he could picture them residing at Verona House for the season.

A noise at the drawing room door made him turn around. A wide smile broke across his face. “Mia.”

“Mr. Hillary.” Her formal address and cool tone served as a reminder to be mindful of his manners with others present. She stepped inside the drawing room and pulled the doors closed behind her.

“At last.” He strode across the room to sweep her into a much anticipated kiss. Her sweet lips parted beneath his on a small cry of surprise, but a moment later, her mouth grew supple and moved with his.

He had to be the luckiest fellow in London. Amelia, so generous of heart and beautiful, had given herself to him and promised to love only him.

Jake drew back, still holding her around the waist. “I have something for you, a token of my affection.”

A shutter lowered over her eyes, denying him access to her thoughts. “What sort of token?”

He released her with a chuckle and dug inside his jacket pocket. “One that dulls in comparison to the sparkle that was in your eyes but a short moment ago. You will like it, I promise.”

Pulling the handkerchief from his jacket, he laid the bundle in his outstretched palm. “Open it.”

She reached toward the bundle, hesitated, and then unfolded the handkerchief with shaky fingers. The sight of the sapphire and diamond necklace wrenched a cry from her, and her hand covered her mouth as she spun away. “No!”

Jake winced. “No?” What lady disliked jewels? “I thought it a rather nice piece, but if you would prefer something different…”

She wheeled around to face him. “It is not the gift, but the intention behind it.”

“The intention? What intention?”

Her delicate eyebrows rose, her lips parted as she waited for him to respond to his own question.

Egads!
He adjusted his cravat. This was one of those riddles ladies posed to make a gentleman appear a dullard. Unfortunately, Amelia had him bested for he had no clue as to her meaning.

“My intentions are pure. You must know I hold you in the highest esteem.”

Her hand landed on her hip. “Do you, Mr. Hillary? Do you possess the same regard for me as you would a mistress?”

Jake’s jaw dropped. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind, but not a single word formed on his tongue.

“Well, do you?” She marched forward to plant herself in front of him. “Because gentlemen do not shower their wives with jewels or—” She flung her hand in the air, lowering her voice to a fierce whisper. “Or have relations with them on tables.”

Jake tugged harder at his cravat. Damn Rupert and his blasted tight knots. “Er, yes. I take your meaning, I think.”

Did he? He wasn’t certain. Having never been married, he hadn’t considered how a man might conduct himself in private with his wife.

“I enjoyed choosing a necklace for you. And you look lovely in blue.”

A delicate crease appeared between her arched brows.

He had liked losing himself with her last night, too, casting off his tiring restraints and surrendering to his desires for once. But he could see she considered herself abused, though she had been shockingly unrestrained herself wearing nothing beneath her gown. It seemed unfair to assign all the blame for their delightful encounter to him. There must be some room for negotiation.

He held out his hand in invitation. “Shall we sit a moment? I believe we have some questions to sort through before we visit the park.”

Amelia hesitated before she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the settee. She sat stiffly on the edge with her hands in her lap. Her almond-shaped eyes lifted to his. A flash of hurt in their depths pulled at his heart.

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