Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (17 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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“An oversight I will remedy soon.”

When he grazed his mouth over hers, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her tongue flicked across his bottom lip, but she pulled back with a smile when he would have deepened their kiss.

“You wicked minx.” With a playful growl, he buried his fingers in her hair and held her in place while he claimed her mouth. She abandoned toying with him and surrendered to his kiss.

***

 

Jake released her as Amelia eagerly returned his kisses and inched her skirts above her knee before sliding his hands beneath her to cradle her bottom, cushioning her seat upon the hard wall surface. Amelia’s skirts rode higher on her thighs as she wriggled to the edge and guided him to stand between her legs. A hiss of hot breath escaped him as his shaft bumped against her feverish skin. She had foregone drawers again this evening, as all ladies had before the invention of the blasted undergarments.

“I love an old-fashioned lady.”

She chuckled. “I’m not old-fashioned, simply practical.”

Stealing into the neckline of her gown, he lifted each mound from the confines of her corset. He fingered the tip of her breast until it stood erect before bending to sweep his tongue over the bud. She quivered when his lips closed around her.

“Oh, Jake, yes.”

Soon, she was writhing on the wall as he nibbled her sensitive flesh. Her warm breath mixed with the sultry air and feathered over his face. Her head fell back on a pleasurable moan when his hand skated along her inner thigh and sought out her curls. He lavished her other breast with the same detailed attention while his fingers stroked the moist heat between her legs.

She was close to begging him for more, but he delved a single finger just inside her, tempting her. A low groan sounded at the back of her throat.

“Jake,
please
.”

He stood between her legs, touching the crown of his shaft to her, but held back from sliding inside. Kissing her, he invaded her mouth, their tongues wrestling in frenzied movement. His heart beat heavily, a hard drumming vibrating throughout his body.

“Tell me what you want, Mia.”

“I want you,” she whispered. “Now, inside me.”

Fire washed over him and he buried himself to the hilt in one movement. Amelia was warmth, pleasure, and joy surrounding him. He slowly eased back before pulling her flush against him. It never seemed close enough when they made love, and yet, never had he felt so intertwined with another.

She held his gaze as he filled her over and over again, her eyes dark mirrors reflecting the torchlight. When he sought out her sensitive spot to bring her to completion, she sighed as her head lolled back. His lips found hers and they paused, tenderly, reverently kissing one another.

“Tell me you love me,” he murmured as he began stroking her once more. Her breath hitched and grew ragged. It seemed a lifetime he had waited for Amelia to love him in return. He never tired of hearing her speak the words.

“I… love… you.” She gripped his shoulders as passion consumed her, her cries of pleasure muffled against his waistcoat. Her sweet scent carried on the spring breeze, wrapping around him and heightening his arousal.

His fingers tightened on her hips as he drove into her with great urgency, chasing after his own ecstasy. Her hands stole into his waistcoat and caressed his chest over his fine lawn shirt, quickening the flow of his blood and breath. A burst of light rendered him blind to everything, oblivious to sound. His only awareness was of Amelia’s loving touch, the one constant that brought him slowly back to life.

She leaned her cheek against his heaving chest when he enfolded her in his embrace. Her mussed hair tickled his chin.

“I love you, too, Amelia. More than life itself.”

She hugged him tighter then lifted her face up to receive another kiss. He gladly complied before fastening his trousers then attempting to set her back to rights and finding there was no way to return her to her corset.

He removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “You look thoroughly ravished.”

She sighed, an easy smile on her plump lips. “I’ve
been
thoroughly ravished.”

Jake pulled the jacket tight around her, kissed her forehead, then lifted her from the wall. Finding a seat on a nearby bench, he settled her on his lap. “I know I must go soon, but I don’t want to leave you.”

She worked her arms into the jacket sleeves, which were at least two inches too long for her, and pushed them up to her elbows. Capturing his face in both hands, she feathered her thumb across his cheek, her lips turning down slightly. “I wish you could stay, too. Maybe once the board has approved the project…”

“I understand, sweetheart. Soon.” He placed his hand over hers, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Jake, do you go home when you leave me at night?”

He drew back to see her better. “Where else would I go?”

“I’m not naive to the habits of gentlemen, but I don’t have it in me to tolerate unfaithfulness. Once we are married, I wish you to be home with me every night.”

He couldn’t help but to feel pleasure over her admission, but he also heard an undercurrent of worry. “Amelia, I asked you to pledge your fidelity, and I gave my word that I too will remain faithful.”

A shadow passed over her face. “Gentlemen don’t always keep their word.”

He nodded. “No, I suppose we can be deplorable scoundrels at times. But not every gentleman marries his one true love either.”

“I don’t wish to repeat the mistake I made in marrying Audley. I was unhappy in the extreme.”

Reflecting on Amelia’s past relationship with Audley stirred the darkness slumbering inside him. The blackguard hadn’t deserved her. “Make a list of every distasteful habit your former husband possessed,” he said, pushing his anger for Audley aside in favor of basking in Amelia’s presence, “and I’ll do the opposite.”

A hint of a smile crossed her lips. “It would be a long list, sir.”

Jake wrapped her in his embrace, feeling helpless to remedy the past, but wishing more than anything that he could take on the burden of her memories. “It’s hard to stomach knowing he mistreated you.”

“Then let’s not speak of him again. He’s no longer an impediment to our happiness.”

As she snuggled against him, he welcomed her warmth and softness. Amelia would never be hurt again, not by his hand or anyone else’s. He wouldn’t allow it.

Seventeen
 

Jasper whistled a lively tune—albeit an original arrangement and off-key to all but the tone deaf—as he entered Norwick Place. He had been loath to leave Bianca’s bed this morning, especially after a rousing send-off, but he did have responsibilities.

His butler stepped forward for his beaver hat, gloves, and walking stick. “Greetings, my lord.”

“And greetings to you. What a fine morning it is.” Jasper resumed his whistling and headed for the stairs.

“Is that Tub coming in at this hour?” Fiona’s shrill voice came from the drawing room. “Present yourself at once.”

“Damnation,” he mumbled, tempted to dash up to his chambers, but it was best to confront her anger over his abandonment last night and be done with the matter. “Coming, Fi.”

He headed for the drawing room.

“Sir?” His butler advanced, pointing a slim finger toward Jasper’s middle.

“What is it?”

The servant swept his finger in the air from Jasper’s neck to waist. He looked down.

“Egads!” Jasper’s waistcoat was fastened wrong, lending him a lopsided appearance. He fumbled with the buttons until his butler stepped forward to assume the task. Once he was set to rights, he squared his shoulders and approached the drawing room.

Fiona was perched on the settee edge with a pinched look about her mouth. Her expression made her appear older than her years.

“Why are you awake this early, Fi? You need your rest.”

Her frown deepened. “How am I to sleep knowing you are cavorting with whores?”

Jasper flinched and rubbed his temple. Perhaps his sister didn’t realize he had left the opera with Bianca after all, though he was surprised to hear Fiona speak of whores and brothels. “Forgive my lack of sensitivity to your status as a lady, but since you introduced an inappropriate topic… When did you start losing sleep over my gentlemanly pursuits?”

She pushed herself up from the settee. Hellfire and brimstone couldn’t be hotter than the fire shooting from her eyes. “How could you leave the opera with that trollop? Have you no shame?”

Good
Lord
. It was too early for his sister’s nonsense. Jasper sauntered to the sideboard to pour himself a drink. If he must endure one of her tantrums, he deserved alcohol to dull his hearing.

“Lady Kennell is not a trollop or a whore. I would thank you to remember she is a lady of higher rank than you and address her as such.” He sloshed a healthy portion of brandy into a glass and downed half the contents in one swallow.

“She is disgusting. I loathe her very existence, but to think of her and you…” Fiona wrinkled her nose and spat on his carpet.

“I say! You are behaving like a rag-mannered hoyden.” He pointed a finger at her. “What type of lady spits? And on a Persian rug? Do that again and I will demand your husband replace it.”

She puckered her lips and for one moment, he thought she would defy him.

“Have you eaten?” He moved toward the call bell. “You can be a bear when you’re hungry.”

“I am not hungry,” she screamed and stomped her foot. “I’m furious with you.”

He pulled the cord anyway. Perhaps a mouth full of food would derail her tirade.

She marched over to the cord and jerked it repeatedly. “Happy, Tub? How can you enjoy a meal when I’m miserable?”

He pried the cord from her fingers and grabbed her upper arm to lead her back to the settee. “Sit.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him, but at least she was confined to the settee for the moment.

He ran a hand over his brow. “What has gotten into you, Fi? You are raving like a lunatic. If anyone heard you, you would be locked up. Explain your obsession with the lady.”

Fiona’s jaw jutted forward. She had inherited their father’s stubbornness.

“Very well. Keep your lunacy to yourself. I care not.”

A footman presented at the drawing room door.

“I will break my fast in the breakfast room. Lady Banner may join me if she wishes.”

The servant bowed and left to do his bidding.

Jasper turned to his sister, who continued to sulk upon the settee. “Consider this fair warning: If you bring up Lady Kennell to me again in a negative light, you will no longer be welcome at Norwick Place. Whatever misinformed opinion you have of the viscountess, you should take pains to have your facts checked. Lady Kennell is a kind and generous soul. Why, I’ll have you know, she has given a sizable donation to the foundling hospital renovation without seeking any recognition.”

He stalked to the door but wheeled around once more. “She gives out of the goodness of her heart only. You and the other ladies of that pompous charitable society cannot say the same.”

He didn’t wait to see if his sister had a reply. He had heard enough from her for one day.

***

 

Amelia clutched the deplorable missive from the foundling hospital board against her chest. Since receiving it that morning, she had read it enough times to memorize it, but the words still made no sense. “We have the funding to move forward with the renovation. How can they postpone the project?”

Mrs. Hillary stopped pacing and swung to face her. “Let me read it again.” She stalked forward, holding out her hand.

Amelia surrendered the letter.

Mrs. Hillary’s face flushed as she held the parchment up and scanned the contents. “Poppycock!” With a flick of her wrist, she snapped the letter back to Amelia. “Jake will get to the bottom of this nonsense.”

Jake had left Hillary House nearly three hours earlier. Had Amelia realized his errand would take this long, she would have returned to her own house to wait. Surely Bibi had called on her at Verona House by now and would wonder where she was. Perhaps Mrs. Hillary would allow her to send Bibi a message.

Before she could act on the thought, Jake sailed into the drawing room.

“Good heavens!” Mrs. Hillary hurried forward to grab his arms and pull him toward the settee. “I thought you would never return.”

Jake’s dark brows sank low over his eyes, hinting at the bad tidings to come. “Colburn had a late showing at the club.” He gently extracted himself from his mother’s grasp and assumed the spot beside Amelia. His knee brushed against hers, and she longed to hold his hand.

Mrs. Hillary stood over them, twisting her fingers together and swaying.

Jake looked up at his mother, seeming to follow Amelia’s line of sight. A soft smile graced his lips. “Mother, would you like to take a seat while I share what I learned?”

Mrs. Hillary’s eyes flew open in alarm. “Is everything truly that bad? Should I recline on the fainting couch?”

Jake stood, tucked his mother’s arm through his, and escorted her to a chair. “Nothing is beyond repair. There’s no need for swooning.”

Once he had settled her, he placed a kiss on her cheek before moving back to the settee. Amelia’s gaze had followed him, noting each kindness he showed his mother. Her eyes misted as love for him flowed over, around, and through her with every breath. The intensity of her feeling sometimes bordered on madness, a heart-pounding, energizing obsession that had been her companion day and night these past few days. How had she survived this last year without him?

Jake took her hand in his when he lowered to the settee. “A complication has arisen, but it is not insurmountable.”

Amelia dropped against the seat back with a soft sigh. “I knew you would know how to make sense of everything. What must be done so we may get on with the renovation?”

He grazed his thumb over the back of her hand. “As you may or may not know, Mr. Ettinger, the board president, is related to Sir Davenport.”

“Yes, and Sir Davenport made a large contribution to the foundling house renovation. I would think his involvement would help our cause unless—” She sat up straight. “Oh, dear. They aren’t engaged in a family feud, are they?”

“Quite the opposite. From all accounts, Mr. Ettinger holds his older brother in high esteem, so much so that he allows his brother’s opinions to color his judgment. Sir Davenport has insisted on a halt to the project as new information has come to light that causes him grave concerns.” Jake issued a weary puff of breath. “I am quoting Colburn, mind you. Sir Davenport’s concerns are ridiculous in my estimation.”

Mrs. Hillary bolted from her seat. “If Lady Davenport has anything to do with this, she is in for a proper scolding.” She slapped her upturned hand against the palm of her other hand. “The children will
not
be attired in tiny matching hats and made to sing and dance for our entertainment at the dedication ceremony. Her suggestions grow more outlandish with each meeting.”

Jake drew back, his mouth opening once before snapping shut. If the situation were less dire, Amelia might laugh.

“She did not…” He glanced to Amelia as if seeking confirmation.

“She did. It was one of her better ideas.”

He pushed aside a lock of hair that slipped down on his forehead. “I see. Well, you may rest assured the children will do no such thing, Mother. If I may beg your indulgence, I would like to speak in private with Lady Audley. I’ll share the details with you later.”

“Of course.” If Mrs. Hillary was offended by Jake’s dismissal, she exhibited no outward signs as she bustled from the drawing room.

Once they were alone, Amelia turned back to Jake. “Are you saying Mr. Ettinger can hold up the renovation indefinitely simply based on his brother’s opinion?”

“I’m afraid that is the crux of it.”

“He is but one man. The board can overrule Mr. Ettinger, can they not?”

“The man’s temper is legendary. He will make the board members’ lives as unpleasant as possible. No one wishes to cross him.”

“What are they, sheep? Do they have blasted wool for brains?”

A corner of his mouth inched up. “I would not be the least bit surprised to discover this is true. Don’t be discouraged, sweetheart. I promise your project will come to fruition.”

“But how long must the children be kept waiting?” She sat back and crossed her arms. “Tell me what concerns Sir Davenport has.”

“Apparently, he has learned of Lady Kennell’s involvement in the project, and he is making a show of disapproval.”

“Disapproval? Whatever would give him cause for disapproval? She has made a generous donation. More than he has pledged.”

Hooking a finger between his cravat and neck, Jake yanked to loosen the knot and cleared his throat. “Sir Davenport has it in his mind that Lady Kennell is wanton and proposes she intends to exert her influence over the children. He is also fearful his wife’s reputation will suffer if it becomes widely known she has joined in a venture with Lady Kennell.”

“How preposterous! Bibi has no interest in the children beyond funding a decent place for them to sleep. And Lady Davenport has done nothing worthy to attach her name to the project. What is Sir Davenport thinking?”

“Gentlemen rarely believe themselves required to engage in logical thought when it comes to ladies.” He tapped a finger against his head. “You know, wool for brains and all.”

His attempt to lighten the situation had little effect. Ire buzzed around in her mind like a thousand bloodthirsty mosquitoes. “What does he propose?”

“It matters not what he thinks.”

“Tell me, Jake.”

He sighed, his shoulders sinking on the exhale. “He has insinuated the project could move forward if Lady Kennell distances herself.”

“She’s a silent partner, or was a silent partner. How much more removed could she become?”

Jake frowned and rubbed his forehead. “He has suggested the matter could be put to rest if the project leader distances herself from Lady Kennell as well.”

“In other words, he wants me to abandon Bibi, to give her the cut direct.” Amelia jumped up from the settee, grabbed her reticule from the side table, and marched for the drawing room door. “Lady Banner is behind this and I won’t allow her to win.”

Jake caught her by the shoulders before she escaped and turned her around to face him. “Where are you going? We need to discuss this further.”

“There is nothing to discuss. I won’t do it.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she bit down on it. Dreams of building the new wing for the children had kept her sane when she had longed for Jake with a pain so gaping and deep she never thought anything could fill it. How could she abandon everything now? But to betray Bibi…

Jake trailed his fingers along her cheek and over her traitorous lip. “You do not have to choose between Lady Kennell and the children. I will find another solution. I swear it to you, Amelia.”

***

 

Bibi was toying with the lace curtains draping Amelia’s drawing room window when a phaeton carrying Amelia and Mr. Hillary rolled to a stop outside Verona House. Why must the man be Amelia’s constant shadow?

Bibi frowned. This afternoon had been allotted to her, and alternating time with Amelia had worked wonders in her ability to get on with Mr. Hillary tolerably well.

She headed toward the foyer to snatch her dear friend from Mr. Hillary’s sticky clutches, but skidded to a stop the moment she spotted Amelia’s expression.

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