My Fair Duchess (A Once Upon A Rogue Novel Book 1) (28 page)

“Certainly,” Colin said with a nod. “We’ll come around to collect you and my aunt tomorrow night for the ball at eight.”

Philip gave her a pat on the back, and Colin turned on his heel.

Amelia stood, rather stunned, watching the two men walk away. Philip was not acting himself, but rather strangely sly and elusive, and Colin… He had told her enough that she was certain he could feel love
if
he could get over his pain. The question was
could
he get over his pain and open his heart? Until she spoke with Philip―hopefully before tomorrow night―she would go along as planned, though the prospect of boring conversations and the endless fluttering of her eyelashes made her head hurt.

“Aversley, why do you not go and dance instead of sitting here with us while we gossip?” Colin’s aunt asked loudly. The chatter of his aunt’s two other spinster friends sitting at the table with her stopped abruptly, and a pale-gray gaze and a light-blue one turned to him.

“I’m fine,” he said and purposely gazed in the other direction so they would quit asking him questions. He was sitting here because he could keep a watchful, albeit tortured, eye on Amelia as she danced with every eager buck that approached her, and he could contemplate what Amelia had said about his mother surely loving him because she was his mother.

He couldn’t get Amelia’s words out of his head. He’d thought them so many times himself before he’d given up on the notion that his mother even had the ability to feel love. For the first time, in as far back as he could recall, he wanted to speak to her and ask her again why she had treated Father as she had. Would he get a different answer now? Was she hiding something? Father, even in the end, had been sure he shared the fault for her behavior, so could it be that what had happened between them had affected her love for Colin?

“Aversley, I think you should dance,” his aunt said.

He turned toward the women and smiled. They had matching curious looks on their faces. “I don’t see anyone I wish to partner with right now,” he replied.

Lady Chatham raised her wrinkled, bony arm and pointed toward the dance floor where Amelia was being twirled by Belford. “What about that chit? You’ve not taken your eyes off her all night. You watched her when she danced with the Lord Belford the last time and then Lord Shrewsbury and Lord Edington. If you keep sitting here all night she will dance with a man who will steal her right out from under your nose.”

“Thank you for you concern,” he managed and scooted his chair back. “I believe I need a refreshment.”

The three women exchanged a knowing glance that rankled Colin before nodding to him. His aunt patted him on the hand. “Come see me in the morning, Aversley. I’d like to talk about the parties you wish for me to attend with Lady Amelia.”

“Certainly,” Colin replied. He strode toward the punch bowl even though he wasn’t thirsty at all, but he was not going to sit around while his aunt and her friend’s tried to delve into his personal life. He grabbed a glass of punch while greeting a few people he knew and then discretely headed for the potted plants toward the back of the ballroom. He found Amelia in the crowd and resumed his vigil of keeping her in his sights. The azure gown with the encrusted pearls suited her to perfection. With her light hair and creamy skin, she looked ethereal. She certainly seemed from a different world than the one he knew―to good to be true. So, surely, it wasn’t true. She wasn’t as perfect as she seemed. He glanced down into his pink punch and absently took a drink then frowned in distaste, swirling the liquid in the cup.

Yet, what if she was exactly what she seemed? Honest. True. And full of love. If she didn’t change during the Season, yet realized Worthington was not worthy of her love, she would still need a husband and Philip’s debts would still need to somehow be paid. Colin raked a hand through his hair, uncertainty strumming through him. Could he be the sort of man she wanted? The ability to open himself up to loving someone seemed impossible. Daunting. Yet…

“There you are,” Harthorne said and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “I should have looked in the shadows instead of among the people. Sorry I’m late. I’ve been detained all day with business.”

“You’ve not missed much,” Colin said.

Harthorne frowned. “I’ve decided you may be right about women. I was just forced to dance with a chit who made it plain she would never marry a man whose fortune did not at least match hers.”

“I’m sorry to be right,” Colin said, trying to shake his distraction and focus on his friend.

Harthorne grinned. “I did receive two very lurid offers from widows, however, which made the prospect of turning jaded seem more desirable.”

Colin stiffened and shrugged Harthorne’s hand off his shoulder.

Harthorne’s face drained of color. “Damnation, Aversley. I’m sorry. I’m not used to you being touchy, but all the same, that was foolish thing for me to say.”

“Think nothing of it,” Colin said and motioned to the dance floor. “Lady Amelia appears to be having a grand time.”

“Where is she?” Harthorne asked, peering into the crowd.

“She’s there.” Colin pointed but was surprised not to see her any longer. His pulse increased a notch as he quickly scanned the perimeter of the room and swept his gaze over the dancers once more. “She was just there. Do you see her yet?”

“She probably needed air. I’ll check the terrace, and you comb through the room.”

Colin nodded. “If she’s not on the terrace, check the gardens. If I were trying to seduce a lady that’s one of the places I’d take her. It’s secluded.”

Harthorne’s eyes bulged. “I’m sure you won’t discover her there.”

“I better not,” Colin growled. “I won’t be held accountable for what I do to any man who has attempted to seduce Amelia.”

Throwing a wary glance over her shoulder, Amelia scurried down the dark hall and away from the hum of conversation and bright chandeliers of the ballroom. She stopped in front of moonlit room that appeared unoccupied. With care, she pushed the door all the way open and poked her head into the shadowy room. The smell of leather and musty paper filled her nose. The library! Perfect. She scurried into the room and fell into a weary heap on the settee.

Her temples were pounding from thinking on inane topics to converse upon, and her cheeks ached from hours of false smiles. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. Slight guilt nagged at her for dashing out of the ballroom when Lord Shrewsbury had gone to get her punch, but not enough remorse that she was going to go back anytime soon. It wasn’t just Lord Shrewsbury she was hiding from; it was every gentleman she had danced with tonight.

They seemed all the same, talking nonstop of themselves, their wealth and what
they
expected from a wife, yet she knew they could not all be
exactly
the same. She also knew they were not Colin. None of those men made her feel perfectly comfortable just being herself. None of them had Colin’s sharp wit or his ready, beautiful smile. She would bet the gown off her back that none of them shared her love for flowers as Colin did, either. There was, of course, no way to know, because not one of the gentlemen had asked her about herself.

Colin had been asking her about herself since the moment he’d met her. With a start, she realized none of her thoughts were for Charles. She forced herself to think on him. He may or may not have rescued her that day on the horse. She was so uncertain now. He had stood up for her to his friends, but according to Constance only because Constance had shamed him into action. He had most definitely discussed books with her many times, and with great passion and he had called her agile. Maybe Charles had simply felt sorry for her, because truth be told she was not that agile, except when Colin was leading her.

She rubbed her temples as she thought. Heavens, had she made Charles into her hero, but he had thought of her as a mere friend? Rather like a secondary character? Had she been so lonely that she created a relationship in her mind? However she had thought of him, it did not compare to the way Colin made her feel.

He stole her breath, raced her pulse, made her laugh, made her want to shout, and made her think she was beautiful. Possibly, she was falling in love with him. But could he ever love her back?

“Amelia,” a voice said above her. Her heart raced as she jerked up and scrambled to her feet. The room was dark but not so much so that she could not see Charles standing behind the settee.

“Charles,” she blurted, forgetting herself. She pressed a hand to her lips. “I beg your pardon. I mean, Lord Worthington.”

Charles raced around the settee and grabbed her hands in his. “No, please call me Charles and let me call you Amelia. It’s how I think of you in my heart.”

Amelia felt her jaw drop open. She promptly snapped it shut. Maybe how he felt about her wasn’t all in her head at all. “What are you doing in here?”

“I followed you.”

If he’d admitted that several weeks ago, she would have jumped into his arms for joy. But now… She pulled her hands out of his and took a step back. “Followed me? But why?”

“Because you are driving me mad,” Charles replied, advancing on her.

Instinct sent her scuttling backward out of his reach, but she hit her shoulder blade on something hard. A quick glance behind her confirmed she had run into a bookshelf. “Charles,” she placed her hand out to keep him at a distance, and he grabbed it. She gave a tug, but he held firm. Huffing, she said, “I’m going to have to insist you leave the library at once. This is improper, and if anyone should see us―”

“Do you worry about being proper around him?” Charles asked, his tone sharp and his lip slightly curled.

“Who?”

“Aversley. That’s who. Do you ensure he is not alone with you in a room? I assure you that you should. The man is a danger to your innocence, unless you’re no longer innocent.”

“Lord Worthington!” Amelia snapped, anger blossoming in her belly and spreading like fire through her veins. “I assure
you
, though it is absolutely none of your business, His Grace is always a perfect gentleman with me.” Except for yesterday’s crushing kiss followed by that lovely gentle one, but that was her secret, and in truth she had enjoyed it too much to give a fig about the lack of propriety.

“Let me go,” she demanded, pushing at his hand. He did release her, but his arms came up to either side of her hips, effectively trapping her. “Whatever do you think you’re doing?” she yelped.

He leaned toward her, his face mere inches from hers. “Amelia, please. I know you care for me.”

She did. Or she had. She stared at his eyes, not nearly as beautiful as Colin’s, and didn’t feel the tiniest heart palpitation. “What of Lady Georgiana?” she said gently. Charles was like a boy who did not want to share his favorite toy. He didn’t love her. “The two of you seem a breath away from the altar.”

“Forget Lady Georgiana for the moment,” he whispered, his warm breath wafting over her face.

That sounded like a bad idea, if there ever was one. “I think not,” she replied, in what she hoped was a prim voice. “Are you or are you not going to make an offer for Lady Georgiana. Or have you already?”

“I have not. Amelia, it’s complicated, but seeing you with Aversley and thinking of you becoming his makes me want to find a different solution to my problem. Kiss me, Amelia. Surely you must want to feel my lips on you as much as I want to feel yours on me.”

Anger burst throughout her body like a crackling, burning log that could no longer stand the heat. She wanted to slap him not kiss him.

Before she could decide whether to do it or not, the slow creak of the door filled the room, and Colin stepped into the moonlight. The frown of cold fury he wore made her shiver. “Back up, Worthington,” he demanded in a tone that brooked no doubt that Colin would physically back the man up if he did not comply.

Charles stepped back and set his hands to his hips. “Aversley, you’re intruding. This is none of your business.”

“Lady Amelia is my business,” Colin said in a ruthless tone as he advanced in two long strides across the room. “If you ever proposition her indecently again or beg a kiss, unless you are betrothed, you better find a ship to the farthest corner of the world because I will hunt you down and tear you apart piece by piece.”