The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga) (14 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Amelia dressed for another ball, this time in yet another white satin
evening gown. She was tired of all the white. Why did debutantes have to wear
white or a variation of it to every function? After the incident with Yarmouth
she thought Wentworth would let her end her London Season early and retire to
the country without any more balls.

How wrong she had been.

Nothing she ate––in the past several days since the incident with
Yarmouth, as she referred to it––sat well in her stomach. And tonight was no
exception. Her nerves got the better of her. She tried every excuse a woman
could produce to bow out of this evening’s ball, but to no avail.

The carriage ride took forever. Or at least it seemed that way with her
family chatting relentlessly around her. Even Wentworth seemed in an overly
cheerful mood on this particular evening. Must be something Emma did. Or they
both did.

Earlier in the evening, when Emma and Wentworth had descended the
staircase arm in arm together, they glowed. Although the vision of her brother
and Emma together in bed made her stomach queasy, she wanted what they had––but
with William. Evidently that was too much to hope for.

As the evening progressed and Amelia danced with one eligible gentleman
after another, her head began to ache along with her feet. Didn’t the
privileged of the
ton
take dancing lessons anymore? She lost count of
how many times her feet were flattened beneath some gentleman’s hard shoe.

Of course, her newly acquired headache only grew worse because she
never stopped looking through the crowd for William. When Mr. Spencer bowed
before her, asking for the next dance, her heart speeded up.

“I promised Bridgeton I would speak with you tonight and give you his
apology for not attending,” Spencer said as the orchestra struck up the first
note of a waltz.

“Thank you,” Amelia said with a smile. She promised herself she would
not cry tonight even though tears currently burned her throat and eyes. “Where
is he?”

“At home,” Spencer replied. “I have a private message for you from
him.”

She could not help herself. Her heart fluttered. “You do?”

“Yes, Lady Amelia, I do. I apologize in advance if what I have to say
embarrasses you, but Bridgeton did not want a note to fall into the wrong
hands. He asks you to accompany him to Gretna Green so you can marry him.”

“He what?” She must have said it too loudly as several nearby couples
glanced their way.

“Please do not make me repeat myself,” Spencer said with a twinkle in
his eye.“No. I heard you.” Amelia became lightheaded, her feet barely touching
the dance floor.
William wants to marry me?
And not just marry me,
but steal me away to Gretna Green and risk the wrath of Wentworth?
Could he
truly love her as she loved him?

“How? When? Where?” Amelia asked, trying to control her excitement. The
last thing she needed was to attract Wentworth’s attention.

“Tonight. Bella knows. I needed an ally. Right now, even as we dance,
she is pretending illness, hoping Wentworth will let her go home. She will
insist you accompany her. Once you’re home, wait an hour, pack a bag and sneak
down the servants’ stairs. Bridgeton will be waiting for you at the bottom. In
fact, he’s probably there right now.”

“We must go,” Amelia said as her heart pounded with excitement. She
didn’t want to waste another moment on the dance floor when William was waiting
for her.”

Mr. Spencer tightened his hold on her. “No. You must not draw attention
to yourself. Wait for Bella.
Ahh,
the dance ends. And here are your
sister and brother.” Mr. Spencer bowed.

“Amelia…” Bella linked her arm with Amelia’s, giving her a brief
conspiratorial glance. “I am not feeling at all well. Wentworth says I may go
home. Please, will you be a good sister and accompany me? I’m feeling
dreadfully ill and don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course.” Amelia turned to her brother. “Are you, Emma, and Sebastian
leaving now as well?”

“No. There is something I must take care of this evening,” Wentworth
replied. “Our coachman will see you two home safely and then return for us.”

Once settled inside the coach, Amelia could not contain her excitement
any longer. “Bridgeton wants to marry me!” she confided to Bella as her hands
reached out and squeezed her sister’s.

“Yes, I know,” Bella winced as she extracted her hands from Amelia’s
grip. “How romantic. Your knight in shining armor. Oh, how I wish Myles would
steal me away to Gretna Green.”

Bella went from smiling to frowning. “I know you wish he would steal
you away to Gretna Green as well. But honestly, Bella, you should forget about
Myles. You have waited long enough. Mr. Spencer seems taken with you. Perhaps
you—”

“Yes…Well, I should perhaps let Mr. Spencer call upon me. It would
serve Myles right if I fell in love with another. But enough about me,” Bella
reached across the coach and held Amelia’s hands. “You are getting married. And
to Bridgeton, who I must say is handsome in a reckless sort of way. Not that he
is reckless; it is just that he cares less about adhering to
ton
standards than most when it comes to his appearance. I admire that.”

“I believe,” Amelia began as she rested against the squabs, “that he
cares a great deal about the gossip surrounding him. It bothers him terribly
that people think he killed his brother and his brother’s wife. William loved
them both. The three of them were inseparable. Oh, how I wish I knew the
William of old, the young gentleman, the second-born son without obligations,
without the weight of death on his shoulders.” Tears blurred her vision briefly
as she thought of how his life might have been. “Still, I love the William I
know now. The one tainted by tragedy. Shunned and hurt by his peers, but
ultimately loved by his family.”

“What do you think Wentworth will do tomorrow morning when he finds out
you are gone?” Bella asked with concern in her eyes.

“I hope he will see reason and not play chase. If Captain Rycroft and I
had run away and married in secret like we wanted, Olivia would not be a
bastard in the eyes of Society. I would still be a widow, but a respected widow
with a young child. And no, before you ask me, I have not slept with William.”

“I was not—”

“Yes, you were wondering,” Amelia insisted.

“Perhaps I was. It is only because I am curious about it. I may become
a spinster and never know,” Bella stated.

Amelia burst out laughing. “You, an old spinster. I hardly think so.
You have been so blinded by Myles these past years you have not noticed all the
gentlemen vying for your favors.”

Now Bella laughed. “Oh, I have noticed. How could I not? I especially
remember a certain baron who stuttered every time he asked for a spot on my
dance card. Of course, he has since married, inherited an Earldom, and speaks
clearly. If only I had known.”

“You would never—”

“No. I would never have married him,” Bella said. “But no one has asked
to marry me.”

“Don’t be upset,” Amelia said as Bella’s eyes began to water.

“I know it’s silly. But you’re younger than me, and you have had three
proposals,” Bella said, quickly wiping away the tears that ran down her cheeks
with the back of her gloved hand. “Please, never mind me. I do not know what is
wrong with me this evening. Perhaps it is good that I left the ball early. Can
you imagine if I started to cry for no reason while dancing a waltz? This is a
happy night for you. And in three days’ time you will be the Countess of
Bridgeton.”

“The Countess of Bridgeton,” Amelia said out loud. “It does sound nice.
Thank God I will never be the Duchess of Yarmouth.”

“Yes, thank God for that. So tell me, are you excited, nervous, or
both?” Bella asked.

“Both.” Truthfully, Amelia was more than a little bit of both.
Excitement hummed inside her at the thought of running off and marrying the man
she loved. And she was also nervous she would not live up to his expectations.
William would expect her to be chaste. And she would never deceive him by
pretending to be. But how would he react when he found out she had been with
another and that she had a child?

There was also a yearning inside her body. A yearning for the intimacy
shared by two people who loved each other. She promised herself she would not
compare her marriage night to the time spent with Captain Rycroft. William was
nothing like Rycroft so comparing the two would be unfair. She had never met a
gentleman like William. And no one, not even Rycroft, made her as lightheaded,
made her heart pound or her blood yearn as William did. Amelia could hardly
believe they were running off and getting married.

“You don’t suppose he will change his mind?” Amelia’s body began to
tremble in panic.

“Oh, dear sister, no, I do not. It’s clear he loves you,” Bella
reassured her.

“What if something happens to him?”

“Try not to think about the tragedy you endured with Rycroft. Bridgeton
will be here for you. Do not fret.”

Panic rather than fretting had seized her. But Amelia knew she was
overreacting because of her past. William would show up. He would be there for
her.

***

Taking one last glance around her bedroom, Amelia sighed deeply. She
would never sleep here again as a single woman. When she came back to visit she
would be married and a Countess. If she was allowed to return. If she wasn’t
cut off from her family for disobeying her brother, the duke.

Not that being a titled lady meant anything to her. But she would be
proud to be the wife of the Earl of Bridgeton. And a good and loving wife she
intended to be. She hugged Bella, thanked her for helping her pack and bid her
farewell.

As she crept down the servants’ staircase with a small reticule and
overnight bag her heart fluttered with excitement.

And when she spied William’s silhouette beside a tall tree, a calm
anticipation spread throughout her body. It took all her strength to keep a
grip on her bag. As if he understood, William quietly hurried forward and
relieved her of both her reticule and overnight bag.

“I wasn’t sure you’d…come.” William placed her hand near his elbow. “My
carriage is down the street. I didn’t want anyone to see it and wonder why it
was there. In fact, Wentworth only came home a few minutes ago. I thought for
certain he saw me lurking in the shrubbery, but perhaps I am mistaken.”

William’s coachman opened the door to the carriage without making a
sound. William helped her inside. After taking a seat facing forward she
noticed several blankets and a basket of food on the seat opposite her. Someone
had taken care to anticipate their needs. The carriage tilted with William’s
weight as he joined her on the seat.

“Are you comfortable?” William asked, seeming suddenly unsure of himself
or the situation.

“Yes,” Amelia answered as he wrapped his arms around her waist and
pulled her close to him so her head rested against his shoulder.

“I have not asked you properly to marry me. And I must thank you for
letting Spencer convey my plans for our elopement.” William let her go and
turned on the seat so he faced her. He wrapped both his hands around hers.
“Amelia, will you make me the happiest man alive and become my wife? I love
you. I come with a tainted reputation. I have tried to clear my name, but after
twelve years it’s difficult to do. There may always be a question. I did not
murder those I loved. But know that I will love you and protect you and stay
true to you for as long as I live.”

“William.” Amelia breathed in and out deeply for courage and fought
down the sick feeling inside her stomach. “I must tell you something.”

“I know, my dear. You loved Rycroft and you had his daughter.”

“But how did you find out?” Amelia’s heart pounded so hard, the sound
was deafening to her ears. William knew about Olivia and still he wanted to
marry her?

“During my last visit to Dover I did some investigating. At first I did
not believe the gossip about you. But I admit curiosity got the best of me. You
had said some things during our private times together that had me wondering.
You said something about not being innocent. And you were adamant about never
marrying. Wentworth actually confirmed it.”

“I’m sorry,” Amelia whispered.

***

“Sorry.” William’s heart and body ached for his soon-to-be bride. Maybe
if his life had been conventional, he would judge her harshly. But with a
brother who had a male lover and a wife who loved William, he could never lay
judgment against another. “What have you to be sorry for? That you fell in
love, became engaged, and made love to the man you thought you would spend the
rest of your life with? You could not have known he would die. And do not be
sorry for bringing that precious, innocent girl into this world. Cruel though
people in this world can be, I will love her as my own, because I love her
mother.” William heard crying. Soft crying, but crying nonetheless. “Please do
not cry, my love.”

“I cannot help it. I am relieved to hear you say those things. Do you
really mean you will love Olivia? Can we adopt her and make her ours so people
will not gossip and call her a bastard child? I don’t want my daughter to have
to deal with that stigma. That is why I went to America, and now my maid is
bringing her up as her own. But, oh, I so want her to be mine.”

“Yes. We will adopt her. I will have my barrister draw up the papers as
soon as we get back from our trip. She will be our daughter. Please say you
will marry me, Amelia?”

“Yes. I will marry you,” Amelia said. “I love you, too. And I promise
to be a true and faithful wife.”

“And now it’s my time to tell you something of my past.” William
paused, took a deep breath, and let it out. He prayed what he was about to tell
Amelia did not hurt her. “My brother preferred men. He married Katherine to
halt gossip. I loved Katherine, and she was carrying my child when she died.”