Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (16 page)

He could do that. In a moment. Once something came to mind. He frantically searched his memory for anything—anything at all—but only a childhood rhyme came to mind. And it wouldn’t blasted go away.

Ride
a
cock
horse
to
Banbury
Cross. Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross.

“Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross,” he mumbled, “to see a fine lady upon a white horse.”

Damnation.
That wouldn’t do.

Bianca squeezed his arm. “With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes.” She laughed. “Norwick, what are you doing reciting children’s rhymes?”

He broke into a cold sweat and ducked his head. But when Bianca positioned herself where she could gaze up into his eyes, her expression was one of delight.

“I thought to recite poetry,” he admitted, his cheeks flaming even hotter. “But I could only think of this ridiculous rhyme.”

The carriage rolled up, ending their conversation. The lady accepted the footman’s assistance without hesitation. Once she and Jasper settled on the bench side by side and the carriage jerked forward, she took his hand in hers.

“That is the sweetest thing any man has ever done to impress me.”

He had impressed her? Surely not.

Her face was lit with adoration when she looked up at him. He sank against the seat back.

“You make everything easy on me, Bianca. Thank you.”

Jake stood among the children gathered around the wingback chair where Amelia would soon perch to read the book she had brought for the occasion. He had been pleased by her invitation to accompany her for the weekly story time at the foundling hospital, but now that he was here, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. The drawing room was noticeably lacking in seating with only one upholstered piece and a ladder-back chair with a wobbly leg.

Amelia cooed to a rosy-cheeked babe in her arms and placed a kiss on his pale hair before handing the boy back to the nurse. At least Jake thought the babe was a male child. It was difficult to tell the difference when their nurses dressed them in gowns like ladies.

“Take your places, children,” Amelia called. Her voice was merry and her eyes shone with animated light.

A smile pulled at his lips. She enjoyed her time with the orphans. He hadn’t been certain of her affection for the children, though he had believed in her sincere desire to improve their living quarters. Many ladies took on charitable causes, but he always had the impression their involvement was a necessary drudgery.

Amelia gestured to the hardwood chair. “Would you like to have a seat as well, Mr. Hillary?”

He didn’t dare sit on the rickety chair with his tendency toward clumsy displays at the most inopportune moments. “That’s all right, my lady. I shall stand unobtrusively over there.” He pointed to the wall behind Amelia’s chair.

The slight crease between her arched brows appeared. “As you wish.”

She picked up the book lying on the chair cushion then lowered to the seat. “This evening’s reading is from
The
Life
and
Perambulation
of
a
Mouse
by Mrs. Dorothy Kilner.”

The children sat on the wide, plank floor at Amelia’s feet, which appeared too hard for their tiny bums by half. Perhaps he would send ’round a carpet on the morrow.

Amelia opened the book on her lap and began the reading. “Like all other newborn animals, whether of the human, or any other species, I cannot pretend to remember what passed during my infant days.”

Her soothing voice lulled the children, and they settled in to listen to more of her tale, but only a little ways into the reading, the younger ones began shifting positions and their gazes wandered about the room. Mrs. Kilner was losing their attention. Jake wanted to assist his betrothed, but he was unsure on what to do.

“Impatient to use our liberty,” she continued, “we all set forward in search of some food.”

Jake pretended to shade his eyes from the sun, crouched low, and scanned the area, all with a silly expression, eyes being crossed and all. His dramatic interpretation earned several giggles, drawing the notice of some of the other children.

Amelia paused briefly to study her audience before returning to the story. “Or rather some adventure…”

Lifting his hand into the air, Jake lunged as if engaging in swordplay. More ripples of laughter traveled the half circle at Amelia’s feet.

She read on. “…as our mother had left us victuals more than sufficient to supply the wants of that day. With a great deal of difficulty, we clambered up a high wall on the inside of a wainscot.”

He pantomimed scrambling up a ladder then wiping the sweat from his brow with an exaggerated, though silent, huff of breath.

The children’s delighted response buoyed his spirits. Perhaps he had a knack for tots after all.

Amelia lowered the book to her lap, palms on the pages, and leaned forward. “Children,” she said in a loud whisper, “what mischief is Mr. Hillary up to behind me?”

Jake placed his finger over his lips as if to beg their silence, which caused a high-spirited uproar.

Turning in the chair, Amelia caught him in the act of misbehavior. He shoved his hands behind his back, looked up at the ceiling, and whistled nonchalantly.

Her soft chuckle warmed his insides and drew his gaze. How strikingly beautiful she was when she was happy, her eyes more brilliant, her mouth pliable, her perfect complexion radiant. At that moment, he vowed to keep Amelia happy for the remainder of their lives together, perhaps even beyond.

“I believe we have a thespian in our midst. Pray, Mr. Hillary, do continue. The children are enchanted by your performance.”

He bowed with added flourish. “At your command, my lady.”

As Amelia continued the story, his actions became larger and more outlandish until all of them laughed, he and Amelia included. When the time came to end their reading for the evening, the children protested.

“I am sorry, my dears, but you must all be off to bed. I shall return next week and we will continue with the mouse’s adventures.”

“Will you bring Mr. Hillary again?” one of the older boys asked.

“Please, please, please,” the other children called.

Amelia glanced at him in question.

“Nothing could keep me from returning next week.” He lifted his imaginary sword. “Not vicious dragons, nor wild beasts of the forest, nor—”

“That is quite enough for tonight, sir.” Despite her reprimand, Amelia grinned at him over her shoulder.

The nurses ushered the children from the drawing room to prepare them for bed. Their noisy chatter faded as they moved farther away. He and Amelia were alone and would see themselves out.

He offered her a hand up. She stood and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his chest.

“You shall be the finest of husbands, Mr. Hillary.” Her warm breath penetrated his waistcoat.

“I shall try to be,” he promised then placed a kiss atop her silky hair. He would cherish her, love her with reverence, and protect her as a doting husband should. Nothing would stop him.

Not dragons.

Nor wild beasts.

No creature great or small.

***

When Amelia and Jake arrived at Verona House, she led him toward the veranda, winding through the town house, and outside through the French doors.

The cloying scent of honeysuckle hung on the air, reminiscent of the happier times of her childhood playing in the gardens at the finishing school with Bibi. They had plucked the small trumpets from the vine, pinched off the ends and then, as carefully as a glass maker, pulled the delicate stamen to release the translucent drop of nectar. Nothing had seemed sweeter than those halcyon days of innocence, until now.

Jake was the most endearing gentleman. If only Bibi could see what Amelia witnessed tonight with the children, she would understand Amelia’s devotion. Bibi would also realize he was unlike Lord Kennell. Jake was protective, not overbearing. Amelia recognized the difference.

A footman followed Jake and Amelia to the garden to light the torches, lending an incandescent ambiance. “Will there be anything else, milady?”

“Make certain we’re not disturbed,” Jake answered.

“Yes, sir.” The servant bowed before gliding back inside and pulling the glass doors closed.

Amelia stepped into Jake’s embrace, resting her chin against his chest. She looked up at him and smiled. “Don’t keep me waiting any longer.”

Jake snuggled her close and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re an impatient young woman.”

“I grow more impatient with each moment you stall. Now, tell me your news, as I’m becoming cross with you.” She tipped her head to the side and smiled. She was anything but cross with him.

“First, I have a surprise for you.” Lifting her by the waist, he sat her on the wide stone railing enclosing the veranda before digging inside his coat pocket. “You must close your eyes.”

She shook her head slowly as if put out with him, but lifted her face up in expectation and did as he requested. He touched his lips to hers just as she had hoped.

“I thought we agreed to no more gifts,” she said.

“I agreed to nothing of the sort.” Grasping her hand, he removed her glove then glided a ring onto her finger.

Her breath hitched.

“Open your eyes.”

Amelia’s eyes flew open, and she held her hand in front of her face. The round, aqua gem glittered in the torchlight when she wiggled her fingers. “Oh, Jake. It’s beautiful. Is this a blue diamond?”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “It was brought to my attention recently that I should give you a token of my love, a ring to remind you how much I cherish you.”

His ever-expressive eyes, softly glowing with love, would be the only reminder she ever needed. She had never had anyone regard her so.

“I shall never remove it, my love.” She looped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. “Now allow me to present you with a token of
my
affection.”

She intended to place a chaste kiss on his lips but his hand slipped to her nape and held her in place while he possessed her mouth. She melted against him; her lips parted on a sigh, their tongues brushing against one another.

Just as her ability to think on anything besides him was on the brink of extinction, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Mia.”

Mia, Latin for mine. A trill of pleasure swept over her every time he called her by the pet name.

“And
I
love you.” She placed her palm against his chest and imitated a severe look as she recalled the true reason she brought him to the veranda. “Now, do stop distracting me with beautiful gifts and lovely kisses. What is this pleasant development you mentioned in the carriage?”

He reached into his pocket to procure a folded document. “A pledge for the foundling hospital renovation project. Lord Ellis has agreed to donate the last two thousand pounds needed to secure the board’s approval.”

She issued a tiny squeal as she snatched the parchment from his hand.

“You truly have no patience at all,” he said with a laugh.

“How am I to have patience when you delight me so?” She opened the paper to find the Earl of Ellis’s bold signature. The earl remained a bachelor with no female relations Amelia could approach to speak with him about the project. “You amaze me, Jake. How did you enlist Lord Ellis’s assistance?”

He shrugged. “I presented the facts, and he agreed to contribute to the cause. Although he may have been swayed somewhat when I mentioned Lady Gabrielle Forest was enchanted with the idea of a new wing for the foundling hospital. I believe he has a
tendre
for the duke’s daughter.”

“But Lady Gabrielle has no involvement with the Mayfair Ladies Charitable Society.”

“Truly?” Jake drew back, a wicked twinkle in his hazel eyes. “I could have sworn you mentioned her name once or twice.”

“You, my dear husband-to-be, are as crafty as your younger sister.”

“Where do you think I learned such trickery?” Jake accepted the parchment she held out and slid it back into his pocket.

Amelia reached up to trail a finger along his chiseled jaw, his freshly shaved skin smooth to the touch. Light reflected off her ring, reminding her how fortunate she was to be loved by him. Jake’s appearance had always had the ability to take her breath away, but the beauty he allowed her to see inside him tonight made her feel like laughing and crying and behaving in all sorts of mad ways.

“Thank you, for everything.”

A slow smile spread across his lips. “I’m incapable of denying you anything. Promise you won’t use my weakness against me.”

“I promise.”

Inching her skirts over her knees, his fingers grazed the sensitive spot above her stockings. She sucked in a sharp breath and shot her hand out to still his.

Amusement flickered in his dark eyes. “Are you ticklish, sweetheart?”

She refused to answer when he obviously knew the answer.

“My apologies.” He nuzzled her neck as his other hand skimmed her waist. His fingers brushed the underside of her breast, and Amelia closed her eyes on a sigh.

“What about here?” he asked then lightly tickled her ribs.

“Jake!” She squealed and nearly toppled from the wall, but her fall was stopped by contact with his solid chest. His arms went around her and held her securely, his heat pleasant and welcome. She swatted him. “You are a horrible tease.”

He laughed and snuggled her closer. “No more teasing. I know what you want, and as we’ve already established, I’m powerless to deny you anything.”

“Splendid.” Amelia looked up at him and offered her most mischievous grin while her hands wandered to the fastenings of his trousers. “Because you owe me a tumble in the gardens.”

Stealing her hand inside the front fall of his pants, she caressed his firm length with the backs of her fingers before curling them around him. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes on an outpouring of breath. “Never let it be said I dishonor my debts. Don’t I owe you a good shag on the Persian rug in the drawing room, too?”

“I believe you paid that debt yesterday.” Grasping the waistband of his trousers, she shoved them low on his hips and freed him. “But you have yet to take me in the library.”