The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga) (11 page)

Course after course came, and she did nothing but push her food around.
Even Mr. Spencer tried to engage her in conversation. She did nothing but nod
her head and pretend to listen.

“Amelia?” Bella leaned close to her and spoke for her ears only. “What
is wrong with you? The duke has been trying to speak to you, and you have
ignored him.”

“I do not feel well. Perhaps Sebastian could take me home and send the
carriage back.”

“No, no, once dinner is over, if you’re still feeling unwell, we will
all go home. Myles is not here, and I fear I will become bored to tears once
dinner is over.” Bella paused and smiled. “I could flirt with Mr. Spencer, do
something shocking so Myles will hear about it and be at our door first thing
tomorrow, begging me to marry him.”

“Bella!” Amelia gasped. “You jest.”

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” Bella sighed. “Besides, I can’t wait
forever for Myles. I’m practically on the shelf. This is my third Season, and
nobody has a fourth Season without being considered a wallflower. Wilted and
past her prime, sitting on the sidelines with not an interested gentleman
admirer in sight.”

“Stop. You will never be a wallflower. And many men would be
interested, but you wear your heart on your sleeve for all to see.”

“You’re right. If I have to I will sneak into Myles’s bedchamber in the
middle of the night, strip naked, and force his hand. Once the servants and his
family find me there he will have to marry me.”

“Bella,” Amelia admonished, “you wouldn’t do such a scandalous thing.”

“No…” She frowned. “I have thought about it. But you’re right, I wouldn’t
do it. I want Myles to love me, not hate me.”

“Myles does love you,” Amelia whispered. “He just needs a little push.
Maybe you
should…
”

“He would hate me.”

“Not that. Perhaps you should sit down with him next time he visits and
tell him how you feel.”

Myles would have to be stupid to not know already that Bella loved him.
Maybe he hesitated because he needed proof of her love. Amelia believed there
must be something in Myles’s past that was holding him back from professing his
love to Bella. And if there were, did their brother Wentworth know about it?

Amelia was so engrossed in their private conversation that she did not
notice dinner being cleared. Usually the men retired for port and cigars, but
obviously they would not tonight as the duke stood behind her chair. “May I
escort you into the salon for sherry?”

Once in the room, Amelia carried on a mindless conversation with
Yarmouth while sipping more than her share of sherry. If she had to get a
little tipsy to get through the evening, what harm was there in that? In the
morning her head would ache, but at the moment she did not care. The duke
seemed kind, but she found him rather boring. Oh, how she missed her
conversations with Bridgeton.

If Yarmouth mentioned the weather one more time, she would scream.
Didn’t he have anything worthwhile to say to her? And if she screamed, that
would give the gossipmongers more fuel for the fire! Could the young duke be
shy or nervous? That must be it. Hopefully when they married he would loosen
up. If he didn’t, her future looked bleak.

What would their marriage bed be like? Would he do his thing and leave,
or would he insist they share a bed? Would he give her children? She so wanted
to have more. The love she had for Olivia started in her womb and continued growing
after she gave birth until it encompassed her whole world. She had more love to
give. Much more love to give to other children.

Yarmouth suddenly gave her a questionable look, and she feared she had
missed part of the conversation. “Pardon me, Your Grace, were you speaking to
me?” Of course he was. They sat alone in a private corner.

“Yes, Lady Amelia. Pardon my forwardness, but are you feeling ill?”

“Yes, I feel a slight headache coming on.” How had she forgotten about
wanting to ask her brother to leave right after dinner? Amelia rose and
Yarmouth came to his feet as well. “If you will excuse me,” she said as she
curtsied, “I will speak to my brother.”

Yarmouth bowed. “May I call on you tomorrow?” His eyes were filled with
excitement and desire. “After all, it is the day our banns will be posted.”

Oh, dear, how could she have forgotten? “Yes, I would enjoy that.” If
she had glimpsed desire just now in his eyes, wouldn’t that be a good thing? It
meant he did desire her. Unfortunately, Amelia did not desire him. She trembled
with revulsion. She could do her wifely duty, give him an heir, and then
encourage him to take a mistress. Yes, that is what she would do.

Making her way across the crowded room, she spotted Emma speaking to
Lady Beth who used to be engaged to Amesbury. Would she ever know the truth to
that unhappy story? They were betrothed for nearly a year, with the wedding
approaching, when Amesbury became deathly sick with a mysterious illness. After
he recovered, Lady Beth had broken off the engagement. Rumors encircled the
couple for months, but Amelia never did know the real reasons behind the
breakup. As far as she could see, they both still had feelings for each other.

“Lady Beth, how nice to see you,” Amelia greeted her.

“Lady Amelia, it’s lovely to see you,” Lady Beth said with a smile. “It
has been too long. How were your travels to America?”

“Different, but in a good way. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there,
although I’m delighted to be home,” Amelia said as sadness descended over her.
Her time in America would always have a special place in her heart. Memories of
her pregnancy with Olivia, the delivery and then her time spent with her
daughter were precious. Those times would be treasured until the end of
Amelia’s days.  

“Her Grace just told me congratulations are in order,” Lady Beth said.
“You are marrying Yarmouth. How wonderful for you.”

“Yes. Thank you, Lady Beth.” It tortured Amelia to admit she planned to
marry him. She prayed daily it didn’t come to fruition. Turning to Emma, she
asked, “Where is my brother?”

“Playing cards. Is something wrong?” The concern in Emma’s voice was
touching.

“To tell the truth, I’m not feeling well. Do you think he will let
Sebastian escort me home?”

***

“Are you truly feeling unwell, or did you get bored with the duke?”
Sebastian asked with a smirk.

“Bored,” Amelia admitted.

Masculine laughter rang out in the coach.

“Don’t laugh. It’s not funny,” Amelia chided him. “He is the dullest
man I’ve ever met. Seriously, how do people in arranged marriages manage to
live day to day with someone they do not love? Oh, I know, according to Mother,
love will come. But I don’t believe that to be the truth for all marriages.”

Now her brother turned serious. “Maybe, for some, love does come. For
others, the husband takes a mistress while the wife gives her children her
love. Come on, Amelia, we see it every day. We saw it in our own parents.”

“I know. That’s what frightens me. I don’t want to be like them. To
have what they had. Call me selfish, but I want love, happiness, and children
made from love. But most of all, I want a faithful husband. One who loves me
above all others.” Tears trickled down Amelia’s cheeks, and she wiped them away
with her gloved fingers. “I don’t think I’m capable of loving Yarmouth.”

“You might be. Give it time. You hardly know one another.”

“I hardly know Bridgeton, yet I fell in love with him almost
instantly.” She gasped, covering her mouth. “I should not have said that.”

“You can hardly take it back now, can you?” Sebastian cocked a brow.
“You did not have to say the words for me to know you care for him. But it’s
infatuation. You need to learn to love Yarmouth.”

“How does one force one’s heart to love another?”

“You’re asking me?” Sebastian huffed.

“Yes, you. Didn’t you love Penelope? You courted her for over a year
while in New Bedford.”

She watched her brother squirm in his seat. Did he think she was naive,
that Amelia did not know what went on between them?

“I don’t need to answer that,” Sebastian said.

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because I’m a man. It’s not the same.”

“What about Penelope? Did she not deserve your love and respect?”
Amelia asked.

“Amelia.” Sebastian’s hand came up, and he glared at her. “I adored
her, and I did respect her. Right from the beginning I never made any promises
to her. I never led her to believe we had a future together. Besides, she was a
widow, and that gave her certain freedoms that an unmarried lady does not
have.”

“So you’re saying it was acceptable for you to bed her and her you,
because she had the misfortune to be a widow?”

“Stop. For God’s sake, stop. What does this have to do with you and
Yarmouth?”

“I don’t know. I had this premonition of a long and lonely life ahead
of me. Isn’t there anything you can do to change Wentworth’s mind?” Amelia
begged.

“Oh, as if he listens to anything I say,” Sebastian answered.

“He might.”
Dear Lord, help me
. The banns would be posted the
next day. After the posting, there was no going back. Amelia’s marriage to
Yarmouth would take place. She could almost hear her heart cracking in two. If
she had to think of her life with the duke one more time, she would tear her
hair out.

“Have you considered Marissa for your wife? You do realize she cares
for you.”

“We’re not changing this conversation back to me.” Sebastian leaned
back in the seat, closed his eyes, and pretended Amelia’s words had not
affected him.

Damn his sister for bringing up Penelope and then Marissa. Sebastian’s
time with Penelope had been special. They had had feelings for one another. He
had asked her to marry him. She had refused because she could not leave her
family and her beloved America behind. Nor would he stay. Coming home to
England invaded his every waking thought while he’d been there. Obviously,
their love hadn’t been strong enough to surpass those obstacles.

With Marissa, he would be blind not to see how she looked at him. When
he first glimpsed her upon his return, she was indeed a sight for a sore heart.
Ever since they were children she’d held a piece of his heart. Could their
childhood love transition to adult love? If they did not have a future
together, Sebastian knew he had to make that point known to Marissa soon.
Continuing on as they were would not be fair to her. So the big question was
whether or not he had adult feelings for her.
Yes.

But he still
had stronger feelings for Penelope. Penelope lived across the Atlantic; Marissa
lived here. When he had waltzed with Marissa last week, held her in his arms,
it had seemed the most natural thing. He’d not thought of Penelope once that
evening. But was that enough to base a life-long decision on? He frowned.

CHAPTER TWELVE

William walked daily to the stream even though he knew Amelia would not
come. One could hope, though, could he not? So here he stood in the middle of
the stream with his boots on, listening for footsteps. He’d known the moment he
arrived in Dover that he would go back to London once he’d thought things
through.

The past few days had provided him with time to muse on his life and
future direction. When he envisioned life without Amelia, bleakness took over
his world. Once last night he’d woken up, unable to breathe or keep his heart
from pounding as if it would jump out of his chest. The vision of Amelia
married to Yarmouth and bearing Yarmouth’s children still haunted him hours
after having the dream.

After reading the
London Times
that morning and seeing Amelia
and Yarmouth’s banns posted, he knew he would travel back to London and fight
for her. If he did not, he would regret it for the rest of his life. Even if
Wentworth never allowed them to be together, he would be a coward for not
trying one more time.

If worse came to worse, perhaps he could convince Amelia to run away to
Gretna Green with him. And if they were married, would her brother seriously
disown her? William highly doubted it. From what he had witnessed, the
closeness in the Seabrook family ran deep. They were a family he wanted to be
part of. But if that was not to be, he had a substantial fortune to take care
of her in other ways.

Before he left he had to find out something else.

He walked to Stony Cross Manor hoping to get answers. He did not think
he would find the answer, but he went in search of it anyway. He approached
cautiously and scanned the area from a thicket.

Sitting on a blanket in the shade of a large flowering tree sat a
servant and a child. A female child that looked to be about a year old.
A
female child resembling Amelia.
Bridgeton’s heart paused. Were the rumors
true? Had Amelia borne Captain Rycroft’s child? Poor Amelia. No wonder when he first
watched her, at the banks of the stream, she had seemed inconsolably sad.

This knowledge changed his plans not one wit.

***

“Cousin,” Spencer said, grinning as he let William into Bridgeton
Manor, “what brings you back to town so soon?”

“Stop laughing at me.” William ignored his cousin, put down his bag,
and entered the drawing room. He headed straight to the sideboard to help
himself to a glass of brandy. “Care to join me?”

“Don’t mind if I do. It is
my
brandy after all.” Spencer
grinned.

“Stop. Just stop.” William knew the look Spencer gave him. The look
that said ‘I told you so,’ that he’d come running back to town with his tail
between his legs. Running back to plead for the hand of the lady he loved.
Well, bloody hell, Spencer was right. He would do anything to have Amelia
become his wife. But how should he proceed?

“Before you decide on a plan of attack, you should read this.” Spencer
handed him the daily paper. Right there before his eyes, in black and white, were
the same words he had read the previous day. Words that had pierced his heart
then and again now. Amelia and Yarmouth’s marriage banns were now embedded in
his brain for all time.

William’s knees gave way, and he sank down into a chair. “Am I too
late?”

“It would be too late if the vows have been spoken, but they have not.
You have time, but not much.”

“Yesterday I told myself the same thing. Today I’m not convinced. She
is as much his now as when they speak their vows.”
Breathe.
He needed to
get his emotions under control. He might have been a quitter in the past, but
not now. This counted for far too much now. He believed with his whole heart
that if Amelia married Yarmouth she would never truly be happy.

Furthermore, he believed she didn’t love Yarmouth but loved him
instead. If she married Yarmouth, William would face a dark future alone. So
much worse than the one he’d lived the past twelve years. And he believed
Amelia would be all but alone, trapped in a loveless marriage. William had
discovered Amelia’s secret only the day before. He knew that his knowledge of
it would matter a great deal to Amelia. When the duke found out about the
child, would he accept the news and the child, or would he punish Amelia for
her mistake? Abandon the child to who knows what?

“Well, my cousin who has all the answers, what do you think I should
do?” William asked.

“Thank you for the compliment, but I hardly have all the answers. If I
did, I would be openly courting Lady Bella instead of standing in the wings
waiting for Norwich to declare himself. As for you and Lady Amelia, you could
kidnap her and run away, never to be seen or heard from again.”

William burst out laughing. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“No. I’m serious. Sneak into her bedchamber and whisk her away to
America. Marry her and live there, happily ever after.”

“Indeed. What gothic novel did you take that from?” Hadn’t William
thought about running away to Gretna Green with her? Would Amelia go along with
it, knowing scandal would follow them for the rest of their lives? Had not
Wentworth refused to allow him to court her in the first place because of the
gossip associated with his past? Refused to allow them to court because both
their names had been linked with gossip and scandal?

This was the present, not the past. He needed to clear his name now and
help Amelia erase her shame. Not only did his happiness rely on it, but
Amelia’s as well. “Care to visit Smythe with me today to see how my case is
going?”

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got nothing planned. I’ll send to
the mews for the carriage.”

“Send for
my
carriage, you mean?”

“I do send you funds monthly for the use of it along with your home.”

Once again William found himself laughing. “Indeed you do. But send no
more money. We can share the house. I’m here to stay until I’ve accomplished my
goals. Now, where is that carriage?”

***

“Please sit down, Lord Bridgeton. Mr. Spencer,” Smythe said as he
shuffled papers around on the top of his desk. “I didn’t expect you again so
soon. Not much has changed since the other day.”

“It has been over a sennight,” William began. “I need the proof of
Trenton’s guilt now.”

“Now,” sputtered Smythe.

“What my cousin is saying,” Spencer interjected, “is that he is anxious
to put this behind him as quickly as possible. Money is no object. Put more
runners on the case. Time is of the essence.”

“I have men following Trenton. So far he does nothing but travel from
his home to his clubs, then to his mistress’s and back. The creditors are
knocking on his door. If what you say he has done is true, then it is only a matter
of time before he attempts to do something to gain the funds you are no longer
willing to pay him.”

“I need to hire you for one more thing,” William began. “Would you
investigate the Duke of Yarmouth? I want to know everything about him. And I
want the information tomorrow.”

Smythe coughed. “A duke! Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” William repeated.

***

Once inside the carriage, Spencer asked, “Why investigate Yarmouth?”

“Just because I want to. It’s the least I can do for Amelia. In fact,
it’s probably the only thing I can do for her if things don’t go well with the
Trenton investigation. At least I can provide her with peace of mind, if
nothing else.”

“Have you given up on your plans to kidnap her?” Spencer asked with a
smirk.

“Those were your plans, not mine. Mine were to run away with her to
Gretna Green. It is not actually kidnapping if the lady comes willingly.” Damn,
his head throbbed, and rubbing his temples did not help any. “I just want to
know that if she marries the duke, she will be taken care of. That he’s not
hiding something hideous in his past. One glance out the window had William
tensing up. “Where are we?”

“You have eyes. I thought a little time at White’s might cheer you up.”

“You thought wrong.”

Upon entering, William discovered that the usual whispers traveled
through the place. He glared at those who dared look down their noses at him.

He sat by the fire, a drink in hand. Gradually William’s muscles
relaxed and he grew tired, so tired he almost fell asleep there in his
chair––until his glass nearly fell out of his hand. Damn it all, he was
exhausted, mind and body. It was nice to sit, stare at the flames, and forget
his troubles for a spell. He heard Wentworth’s voice travel through the crowded
room and his troubles came back.

It took only a moment before one shadow, then another, appeared before
William. “May we join you?”

Before William could speak, Spencer answered. “Yes, please do,
Wentworth. Norwich.”

Now all four chairs surrounding the fireplace were taken.

“I thought you went back to Dover,” Wentworth said as a servant placed
a glass filled with amber liquid in his hand and another in Norwich’s.

“I found it to be too quiet,” William replied.

“Is that so? I thought you rather enjoyed the solitude and peacefulness
of the country,” Wentworth remarked.

“I did.” Would the duke ever get to the point of his questioning?

“I don’t want to be one to throw salt on your wounds,” Wentworth
continued in a cautious tone, “but did you happen to read yesterday’s or
today’s paper?”

Luckily, Spencer reached over and clasped his hand around William’s
forearm before William could jump out of his seat and go for Wentworth’s
throat. “Yes. I hear congratulations are in order for Lady Amelia and
Yarmouth.” He held up his glass in tribute. “And you, of course, for making
such an advantageous match for your sister. You must be thrilled to have
another duke in the family.”

“Yes, there is that.” Wentworth downed his drink, signaling the servant
for another. “Do I have your word, as a gentleman, you will not contact her or
interfere in any way?”

“You have my word I will not call on her for tea. But if we attend the
same function, I cannot promise not to ask her for a dance.” William would
bloody hell dance with her once more. It would not be to spite her brother; it would
be to appease himself. For the rest of his life he might have to live on only
the memory.

“Fair enough. Are your sisters enjoying the Season, Spencer?” Wentworth
asked, evidently done interrogating William for now.

“Yes. It is Elizabeth’s second and Mary’s first. No serious suitors
yet, but the Season is early. Mary will not be too hard to find a husband for.
Elizabeth can be quite difficult. What do they teach young ladies in finishing
school these days?”

Spencer’s comment had both Wentworth and Norwich laughing.

“Yes,” Norwich chimed in, “I have five younger sisters. I pray every
day my father lives long enough to marry each of them off before his death.” He
shivered. “I have nightmares about finding proper suitors for them. The oldest,
Marissa, made a list of attributes she expects in a husband.” He snorted. “No
man alive can be that perfect.”

“Now that Amelia is engaged,” Wentworth said, “I have Bella to worry
about. She is a bit unconventional. If only a certain gentleman who will remain
unnamed would get off his horse’s ass and ask for her. Then I could rest easily
at night.”

“Yes, well,” Spencer said, looking directly at Norwich, “maybe it is
not meant to be. There might be another out there for her.”

Norwich held up his glass. “Point taken. I believe I’ve been
forewarned.”

“My, my, who do we have here?” William gave a start at the familiar
voice as Sir Phillip Trenton came into view. “I thought you ran back to your
hideaway in the country to lick your wounds.”

William acknowledged Spencer’s hand once again as it clamped down on
his forearm. “I have no wounds, but if you continue to bother me, you will.”

“Come now, Bridgeton, we are family after all. Your brother did marry
my sister. And you, well, we will keep that between us, for now. ” Trenton signaled
for a chair to be brought over as well as a drink. “You don’t mind if I join
you?”

“Yes, I do, but it appears as though I don’t have a choice,” William
replied coldly.

“Always the joker, Bridgeton.” Trenton turned his attention to
Wentworth with a nod. “How are you, Your Grace? Congratulations on your
sister’s betrothal to Yarmouth.”

“Thank you.” Wentworth stood, “If you gentlemen will excuse me.”

“Me, too,” Norwich added, rising as well.

William inwardly groaned. As long as these two stayed, Trenton would
behave, but now—. “Did I say or do something?” Trenton grinned into his glass
once the three of them were alone.

“I wouldn’t know,” William replied.

“I’m grateful they left, it gives us time to discuss certain important
matters.” Trenton stared at the full glass in his hand, then glared at William.
“If you don’t call off your runners, I’ll be forced to reveal family secrets…Unless
you’re willing to pay for my silence, once again.”

“Go ahead,” William said. He had to come to terms with the secrets coming
out eventually. Now might not be the ideal time, but since when did William
have control over anything?

“You don’t mean that,” Trenton said with incredulousness and fear in
his eyes.

“Indeed, I do. You will never receive so much as one more shilling from
me. And they are not my runners. Have you angered someone else?”

Trenton downed his drink and made haste out of White’s as if the devil
himself were after him.

Interesting,
did Trenton have other enemies
? William would not be surprised if the list
covered half a page.