My Fair Duchess (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel Book 1) (13 page)

The need to leave rose up so strongly she felt as if she would choke, but she refused to scamper away defeated. “I have to make Charles remember he wants me, an Elinor.”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” Amelia hurriedly replied, knowing Constance would chide her for being silly. “He thinks he must settle for fluff and feathers in a woman’s head to please his mother, but he would hate that sort of wife. I know him. He needs a wife whose head is filled with interesting information because he is so intelligent. I need to make him remember this. Or realize it, though honestly I think deep down he knows.”

“You are babbling, but I think I’m following. What is your plan?”

Amelia scanned the picnic area. There were flowering bushes, large beautiful trees with low-hanging branches and winding pebbled paths. Nothing she could use to her advantage. “I cannot think of a thing. Can you?”

Before Constance could answer, Georgiana clapped her hands together. “Time for the games! Everyone get a partner!”

A swirl of activity commenced at once, and within seconds, Amelia found herself standing without a partner while everyone else had paired up. She caught herself glancing uneasily around the group, hoping she had missed someone. Her gaze locked with Georgiana’s and the lady offered a venom-tinged smile.

“Poor Lady Amelia. It seems you are without a companion. I must have counted wrong when making my guest list. I could have sworn I had an even number.” Georgiana twined her arm through Charles’s and beamed up at him before focusing back on Amelia.

Since it wasn’t likely the ground would crack open and mercifully swallow her inside, Amelia straightened her spine, a thing she rarely did since she was tall enough without doing so, and met Georgiana’s smirk. “That’s quite all right, Lady Georgiana. Counting can be so very tedious for some people. I can play the games by myself.”

“Amelia, no!” Constance blurted and moved toward Amelia and away from her husband.

“I have to concur,” Charles said, stepping toward her and bringing the clinging Lady Georgiana with him. It won’t do at all for you to have no partner.” He gazed at Georgiana. “You don’t mind if Lady Amelia joins us, do you?”

“If she must,” Georgiana said with a brittle smile and cool tone.

Amelia clamped her teeth down on the hot words scorching her tongue. Georgiana had obviously planned to humiliate her. Smiling so wide her cheeks quivered, she inclined her head to Charles. “Thank you for being so generous, Lord Worthington.”

“Not at all,” he replied while extending his free elbow to her.

Elation welled within her as she linked her hand around his arm. The group moved toward the lake where the games were set up under a large cluster of trees. As they walked, chattering commenced around Amelia, and Georgiana prattled some nonsense about the weather to Charles. Amelia could have been strolling in the clouds for as light as her feet felt. Charles had come to her rescue once again, or was it for the first time? Blast Constance for making her unsure. Whichever it was, Charles was noble, kind, and he clearly cared for her. Fat little Constance knew.

“Lord Worthington,” Amelia said, interrupting Georgiana’s complaining about the heat and the effect it had on her hair.

“Yes, Lady Amelia?”

“I want to thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Think nothing of it,” he replied. His arm suddenly pulled inward having the effect of pressing her hand firmly to his side. A little thrill coursed through her. He wanted to be closer to her, but secretly. That was perfectly understandable, given the circumstances. From under her lashes, she gazed sideways at him, half expecting to find him looking slyly at her, or with a glint in his eye like the duke had, but Charles’s gaze was focused on Georgiana.

Irritated at herself for the twinge of disappointment, for her once again straying thoughts to the duke, and for Charles’s continued attentions to Georgiana, Amelia concentrated on the positive. She would have the next hour to remind him of his heart and to capture his attention and get him to look past her exterior―as her mother had put it. She eyed the hoops ahead in the distance. She was good at this game.

“Are we playing hoops, Lady Georgiana?” she asked as they neared the lake.

“How very astute of you,” Georgiana replied.

“Lady Georgiana,” Charles said in a chiding tone.

Amelia tried to stop the smile that spread across her face, but really, it was hopeless. Maybe she would not have to worry about Georgiana, after all. The woman was so mean spirited. Surely, Charles would see it.

As they turned onto the narrow dirt path that would take them around the lake to the trees they would play under, Charles moved ahead. “I’ll go first to make sure it’s not slippery.”

Amelia nodded and expected Georgiana to move behind Charles and force Amelia to the rear of the line. The three of them trailed a good distance behind everyone else, and she could not imagine Georgina being willing to be last at anything. Instead, the woman surprised her by indicating, with a wave of her hand, that Amelia should fall into step behind Charles. She glanced at Georgiana, sure she must be up to something, but all Amelia got in response was a false smile.

The pebbly path was rather slippery, undoubtedly due to the rain of the night before. Amelia slowly picked her way across the stones, each sharp rock digging into her rather worn kid boots. Wincing, she slowed her steps and fell even further behind Charles. Georgiana, on the other hand, was so close to Amelia that she was assaulting her ears with her tsking and sighing. Was she trying to rush her? Make her trip and look a fool?

Amelia scowled. “Please don’t walk so close.”

“Do you swim, Lady Amelia?”

“Of course.” Amelia wrinkled her brow. What an odd question. Unless― Her heartbeat galloped ahead like a racehorse coming out of the gate. She glanced to her left at the dark, murky pond water. “Don’t you dare―”

With a hard shove into her back, her warning words were lost as she bit down on her tongue and tumbled sideways into the pond. Cold water hit her skin, causing her to gasp and let out an outraged cry just before the heavy weight of her riding habit dragged her under the surface.

Instantly, her vision clouded and her lungs screamed for release as she clawed her way back toward the glimmering sunshine above. Suddenly, fingers clamped like a vise around her arms and jerked her upright, bringing her out from underneath the water to the glorious sunlight and fresh air. She gulped in greedy breaths, caught between a haze of panic and relief. The smell of fish and mud clogged her nose and grit filled her mouth. She barely resisted the urge to spit, but her body heaved in protest.

“Stand up, for pity’s sake,” a hard voice said in her ear.

“Stand up?” she sputtered, kicking out wildly.

“Ouch!” Charles barked as she felt herself being hauled even farther up and then plunked downward.

Her boots sunk into squishy mud. With shaking hands, she wiped the water and muck out of her eyes. When she opened them, she almost wished she hadn’t. Everyone, including Charles, was staring at her with either gaping mouths or embarrassed smiles. Everyone except for Georgiana. She gave Amelia a cold look of contempt.

“You poor dear,” Georgiana purred, placing her hand on Charles’s shoulder as he knelt at the edge of the pond embankment. “You tripped. I tried to stop your fall, but you’re much bigger than I am.”

Standing on shaking legs, Amelia looked from Charles’s tight face to Georgiana’s now smiling one. Amelia had the urge to dunk under the water, but that was no escape. She forced her shoulders back and prayed she did not look as undignified as she felt. It was useless to accuse Georgiana of pushing her. It would only serve to draw more attention and make her look foolish, as if she was trying to falsely blame the host.

Charles thrust a hand out to her. “Grasp my hand, and I’ll pull you out.”

As some creature―
please God, a fish
―brushed her leg, she disposed of her mortification and quickly complied. After a moment of grunting and struggling on Charles’s part as he tried to pull her out to no avail, Constance’s husband came over and grasped Amelia’s other hand.

Constance peered over the edge of the pond, her nose wrinkled with worry. “They’ll get you out Amelia. It’s the weight of your skirts that is making it difficult.”

Constance was only trying to make it better, Amelia knew, but despite the cool water soaking her to the bone, the heat of her embarrassment burned her skin. “Yes, I know,” she forced herself to answer in as cheerful a tone as possible, though every doubt she possessed had wrapped itself around her like a tight, merciless vise.

With one great tug, the men lifted her out of the water and onto the embankment, a soggy, dirty mess. A few of the women giggled behind their fans, and the men shifted from foot to foot, looking as if they would rather be anywhere else than staring at her. She felt the same way about the anywhere else part.

Georgiana did not spare her a glance as she turned away. “Well, now that Lady Amelia is rescued, let’s proceed to the hoops.”

With amused backward glances and snickers, everyone in the picnic party except Constance, her husband, and Charles, followed Georgiana away from Amelia. She glanced down at her dripping, muddy gown and sighed. On the bright side, she would never have to wear the tragically ugly riding habit again. Of course, they could not afford another, so there was that problem to consider, but she would face that another day.

“Are you all right?” Charles asked, gripping her elbow.

“Yes,” she quickly replied, since being mortified to the bone did not count for being hurt. Not physically, anyway. She gathered a handful of her sopping, wet skirt in her hands and twisted it gently. Water immediately splashed the ground near her feet. “I suppose I better go home since I am soaked.” She glanced hopefully at Charles. This would be the perfect opportunity for him to be gallant and offer to accompany her. Or better yet, say she should not go, then she could explain she had to, and then he would offer to go with her.

Amelia’s stomach fluttered as he looked over his shoulder toward the picnickers and then back at her. “Lady Amelia, I―”

“Lord Worthington!” Georgiana’s voice rang in Amelia’s ears. The woman sounded like a frantic goose squawking to get attention. Amelia gritted her teeth.

“Lord Worthington, come quickly! I need you as my partner.”

Charles’s face tightened as he looked at Amelia. Her stomach constricted in response. He was going to go. She knew it. He was not going to offer to go with her. She was not one of the heroines in her novel any more than he was a troubled hero. If she wanted a happily ever after it was up to her to make it happen.

“I better get back to the picnic.” He cleared his throat. “Will you be all right to return home alone?”

Amelia nodded, a lump of disappointment making it entirely impossible to answer without sounding hurt.

“She won’t be alone,” Constance said, stepping near Amelia and twining her arm through hers. “Steven and I will go with you.”

Lord Lindley furrowed his brow. “We will?”

Amelia almost laughed when Constance gave her husband a murderous look. Constance’s heart-shaped face made it almost impossible for her to appear angry.

“Yes, yes,” her husband quickly amended. “Of course we’re going.

Amelia shook her head. “You two stay and enjoy the picnic. I’m fine, really, and the Duke of Aversley’s coachman will see me home safely.”

Charles―who had already taken three steps away from Amelia and toward the awaiting picnickers―swiveled back around on his heel, his brows raised. “Did you say the Duke of Aversley’s coachman is waiting for you?”

“I did,” she replied. Why was Charles looking at her so oddly? “His Grace is a school chum of my brother’s, and he came for the wedding.”

“I know Aversley,” Charles said, his voice holding a curiously flat tone. “I may have been a year behind your brother and the duke at school, but everyone who attended Cambridge knew Aversley’s reputation with the ladies.”

Amelia frowned. “I would not have thought you to be the type of person to put any stock in malicious gossip.” She didn’t know why, but she felt inclined to defend the duke since he had helped her brother and Constance.

Charles scowled. “I put no credit in gossip, Lady Amelia. Aversley and I used to be friends. I know the man personally and what he is capable of.”

“Used to be? Did he do something to offend you?”

“Nothing I’d like to discuss,” Charles said, his tone hard and unwavering. “What is Aversley doing here?”

“As I said, Philip invited him to come and stay with us for the wedding.”

“
With you?
Aversley is staying at your home?”

Amelia smiled, scarcely controlling her desire to grin. Charles sounded almost jealous. The Duke of Aversley was not the least bit interested in her, but Charles did not need to know that. She batted her eyelashes, hoping she looked flirtatious and not as if an insect had flown in her eye. “Really, Lord Worthington, you almost sound jealous.”

“I’m not,” he growled, but his gaze stayed firmly on her. “Your brother’s wedding is not even going forward.”

Amelia shrugged. “Yes, but the duke did not know that.”

“Well, now he surely does,” Charles snapped. “I’m going to speak to your brother and―”

“Lord Worthington!” Georgiana called in a high, grating voice.

Amelia glanced over Charles’s shoulder and grimaced. Georgiana strode their way, her jaw thrust forward in determination. Amelia turned her attention back to Charles, hoping he would finish what he had been about to say. “You were saying?”

He shook his head. “Never mind. I’d better go. Good day to you, Lady Amelia.”

“Wait!” Amelia called, a nervous pressure exploding inside her chest. “Will you be at the dance in two night’s time?”

Before Charles could answer, Georgiana came up beside him and smiled up at him before leveling Amelia with a glacial stare. “Of course he will, silly. He has already asked for my first and last dance.”

“I see,” Amelia forced out, trying to keep her voice light but steady. “How lovely for you. I’ll see you both then.” Anger and hurt bubbled inside of her. Clearly, it was going to take a bit more doing to show Charles the way to her and away from Miss Fluff and Nonsense. “I better be going home now,” she chirped, though her voice sounded brittle to her ears.