The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga) (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Duke and Duchess of Wentworth

Request the honor of your presence

In celebration of the nuptials of

The Earl and Countess of Bridgeton

Saturday, June 10, 1818

Nine in the evening

At Wentworth Manor

Cavendish Square, London

Amelia’s nerves were getting the best of her the night of the ball. She
paced around her old room at Wentworth Manor, causing her maid to have a
conniption. Gretchen continually tried to smooth out her skirts and tuck stray
wisps of hair into the elaborate coiffeur she had almost perfected. The clock
chimed nine, signaling the time Amelia needed to join her family to greet their
guests and face the possibility of grave danger. Once again her husband knocked
on the door asking if she was ready to go down.

 Amelia, you are a strong woman. You have Smythe, his people, and
your family protecting you. After tonight you can live free from worry and
start working on your memory and marriage. Work on being the best mother in the
world to Olivia. Now, go downstairs and put on a performance worthy of the
stage.

“Gretchen, please stop fussing and let my husband in.”

William looked splendid in his formal wear. He’d dressed completely in
black, excluding his white shirt and silver cravat. One glance at his feet and
she hid a smile. Her brother Wentworth and William had much in common. Black
boots were her brother’s style. They were her husband’s as well.

“Is there something wrong with my attire?” William asked.

“No, nothing at all. You look splendid.”

“And you, my dear, look beautiful. That apricot dress suits you. And
the matching flowers tucked into your hair make me want to pluck them out one
by one—I’m sorry. I embarrassed you. I keep forgetting you don’t know me.”

“Perhaps, after I come face to face with my attacker, my memory will
miraculously return,” Amelia said as she placed her gloved hand on her
husband’s arm.

“Nothing would please me more.” William patted her hand. “Are you
afraid?”

“Terrified. I do not believe I will be able to eat anything this
evening.”

“Me neither. My stomach has been revolting all day,” William said as
they appeared at the top of the winding staircase. At the bottom Wentworth and
Emma stood elegantly dressed, waiting for them.

“Easy,” William said as he slowed his steps, forcing Amelia to slow as
well.

Amelia curtsied when she reached the bottom. “Wentworth. Emma.”

William bowed. “Your Graces.”

“Amelia,” Wentworth said, “you are just in time. Our guests are
arriving.”

“Yes, Wentworth, I am aware of it.” Amelia tried not to feel guilty for
being tardy. “Oh, dear…” Her hand flew to her chest. “Yarmouth is the first to
arrive. And who is that lady on his arm?”

“The lady, as you say, is the Widow Baroness Langford,” Wentworth
replied. “She was once the most sought-after courtesan in London until she
married the Baron Langford. I should ring Yarmouth’s neck for bringing her here
tonight.”

“If he’s the one, I’d enjoy doing much more than that,” William added
with a snarl.

“Gentlemen,” Emma interrupted, “behave yourselves. We have guests to
receive and a show to perform.”

Emma, always the consummate duchess, led them into the foyer where they
lined up for the receiving line. Amelia, standing beside her husband, her heart
beating furiously, her body trembling, began the tedious task of welcoming
everyone to their marriage celebration. Did no one in the
ton
stay home
this evening?

She knew most attended to hear the gossip being whispered about her and
William. That didn’t bother her this evening, as their goal was to catch a
murderer. If things went as planned, the gossipmongers would have their juicy
story tomorrow.

When the receiving line ended, Amelia wanted nothing more than to
collapse into a chair to give her weak legs a rest. William had other plans.
They took to the dance floor as the orchestra struck up the first set. When a
waltz played, William escorted her to the refreshment table, spoke words of
encouragement, and disappeared with worry etched on his face. The show would
begin. Beneath her silk skirts, Amelia’s knees wobbled. The trembling in her
hands made it impossible to drink her punch without spilling it over the rim of
the glass. She gave up trying and placed the cup on a tray.

“Excuse me, Countess, may I have this dance?” Amelia was not at all
surprised to hear Yarmouth’s voice, although it sent chills up her spine. She
may not remember the night he tried to rape her, but she had been told about
it.

“Your Grace,” she said with a false smile, “I would be honored.” Yarmouth
led her onto the crowded ballroom floor.

“I must say I was surprised to get this evening’s invitation. I thought
your brother despised me.” He paused and led her into a turn. When she did not
respond, he continued speaking. “Marriage suits you. You look lovely. I
understand your memory has not returned,” he said as he pulled her in a little
too close for proper waltzing standards. His hold was so tight she could not
move away at all.

“Thank you, Your Grace. And no, sadly, I have no memory of the past two
years,” she said as she looked him in the eye. She had been told what happened
in the garden when Yarmouth had behaved so badly. How could she once have
thought him young and innocent? His eyes led her into his secret world of
debauchery and violence. Nothing innocent existed inside him. She had no
recollection of being engaged to him. She knew only what William had told her.
And he’d told her nothing good.

 “Then you don’t remember my deep, dark secrets? Shall I tell you
about them?” 

“I…I…” She could not form a coherent word to save her life. She
shivered. Did his deep, dark secrets involve trying to kill her?

“Have I shocked you with my candid talk?” Yarmouth said as he twirled
her around. “I’m surprised anything shocks you since you are married to
Bridgeton. Everyone knows how his tastes run.”

Once again Amelia words failed her.

“Have I rendered you speechless?” Yarmouth said pausing to bow as the
music ended. “Too bad you did not marry me. I can give you things Bridgeton
cannot.”

Amelia’s brows drew together in confusion. She did not have time to
ponder more because Sir Phillip Trenton approached her, escorted by none other
than her husband.
Would this night never end?

“My dear, may I present my late sister-in-law’s brother, Sir Phillip
Trenton. Sir Phillip, this is my wife, the Countess of Bridgeton,” William said
his body tense, his eyes fearful.

Would the night never end?

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Countess. I’m terribly sorry
I arrived late and missed the receiving line,” Sir Phillip Trenton said as he
bowed over her hand. Never in her life had she conversed with so many unsavory
men. Sir Phillip, with his shallow features, pasty complexion, and large girth,
not to mention sour breath, was the epitome of what she believed debauchery resembled.

 “Sir Phillip, welcome to Wentworth Manor,” she forced a smile as
she pulled her hand out of his grasp. Thank goodness for gloves. “I hope you do
not mind if I steal my husband away for a time. I’m in desperate need of fresh
air.”

“Not at all, Countess,” Sir Phillip said as he bowed once again. His
eyes full of hatred never left hers. “Bridgeton. Once again, congratulations on
your recent nuptials.”

“That was torture,” Amelia whispered as they left the ballroom by the
French doors that led into the candlelit, formal gardens. “What a horrid man
Sir Phillip is. And that was after I danced with Yarmouth.” She shivered.

“My dear,” William said, “after tonight you will never have to be in
the same room with either of them. Are you cold? You are trembling.”

“No. My nerves are getting to me.” She turned to him anxiously. “When
do you think this will be over?”

“Soon, love. Soon,” William replied. He hoped he didn’t lie. The night
turned out to be harder than he thought. Every muscle in his body ached.
Throbbing pain behind his eyes nearly blinded him. When Amelia danced with
Yarmouth, he was thankful she didn’t remember the horrific night at the
Northborough’s masquerade ball. He, unfortunately, lived it over and over again
as Amelia and Yarmouth waltzed. It took all his willpower not to storm the
dance floor and knock Yarmouth on his ass. That was just the beginning of what
he wanted to do to the man.

During their encounter with Trenton, thankfully Amelia said she needed
fresh air. William did not think he could control his temper another second the
way Trenton looked at them both with pure hatred.

As the night
came to an end and they weren’t any closer to solving the mystery of Amelia’s
attacker, Bridgeton’s heart sat heaving inside his chest. Could he put Amelia’s
life in danger a second time? He could because the reality of the situation was
her life was in danger every minute of every day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“What makes you think today will be the day?” Amelia asked William as
they embarked on a large boat her family had hired for the day. It was June
eighteenth, and the London Season neared its end. The day would begin with a
celebration on the River Thames for the opening of Waterloo Bridge, followed in
the evening by a ball at Carlton House hosted by Prince George himself.

Nerves and excitement hummed through Amelia’s body. Nerves because her
attacker had yet to strike again, excitement at finally attending a function
hosted by the Prince. Unfortunately Princess Charlotte, whom Amelia had always
wanted to meet, would not be attending as she currently resided at Claremont,
pregnant with child.

“Easy, my dear,” William said as he helped Amelia to her seat. The
large boat overflowed with friends and family and wicker baskets full of food
and wine. All her family sat on board, as well as Amesbury, Myles and his
sister Marissa, and Mr. Spencer and his two sisters. Also present were Sir
Phillip Trenton, the Duke of Yarmouth and the Widow Baroness Langford.
Please,
God, let this be over today.
She could not go on much longer wondering who
had tried to kill her.

And if God indeed listened to her prayers, could she ask for the return
of her memory? Her relationship with her husband progressed onward, but they
had yet to be intimate as husband and wife. Guilt riddled her daily.

William, a good and honorable man, deserved a marriage in the true
sense of the word. He deserved an heir. Amelia prayed she could truly love him
and give him one someday.

Everywhere Amelia looked, boats, large and small, crowded the River
Thames, rowing their way toward Waterloo Bridge. Her breath caught in her lungs
when she caught sight of the large structure looming across the Thames. For a
brief moment she thought about Captain Rycroft and how he used to be interested
in the construction of the bridge. And how sad it was that he could not see it
completed in all its glory.

After saying a quick prayer for Captain Rycroft’s eternal soul, she
reached for her husband’s hand and held it. Her memory might be missing, but
William soothed and calmed her. She knew in her heart she had loved him, still
loved him. If only she could surrender her body to him. Mayhap tonight would be
their time. How long could she expect her husband to be patient regarding the
marriage bed? One glance at him and the love shining in his eyes answered her.

He would wait forever.

“Can you see the Prince’s boat ahead?” Amelia asked, anxious to catch a
glimpse of him again. She had met the Prince on several occasions, but it was
always a thrill and an honor to be in his presence.

“Not yet, my dear,” William answered while craning his neck to see
ahead. “We might not, with the number of boats attending today.”

For some unfathomable reason she wanted to see the Prince.
Subconsciously, perhaps, she feared for her life and did not want to die
without seeing him once more.

“We have stopped. I don’t believe we can advance any closer to the
bridge,” William said as he stood, careful not to rock the boat, and looked
around. “Never in all my dreams did I think so many boats existed in all of
London.” He accepted wine, cheese, and bread from a servant. “Here, this might
help your nerves.”

“Thank you.” Amelia sipped the bright red wine and nibbled on cheese.
“She had not eaten much at breakfast and knew she should eat something. It
would be most embarrassing if she experienced seasickness.

Over the glass of her wine she eyed the Duke of Yarmouth and Sir
Phillip Trenton sitting across the boat from her and William. Both men
acknowledged her with a nod. Her body began to quiver.

“William,” she murmured for his ears only, “I don’t think I can go
through with this.”

William, heedless of their surroundings, put his arm around her waist
and hugged her close. “I am here, as are the others in your family. Nothing
will happen to you. I promise.”

***

As the word “promise” left his lips an ear-splitting crash of wood
against wood pummeled William’s ears. The boat tilted dangerous as the bow of
another boat hit theirs. Gasps and screams rang out. William tumbled against
the side of the boat that tilted precariously.

His arms reached out for Amelia––to no avail. She fell past him into
the water, taking his heart with her. Several other people fell over the side
and splashed into the murky water with her. Norwich’s sister, Lady Marissa,
fell on top of William, kicking and screaming.

“Easy, I have you,” he told her. “Stay still. Don’t move unless you
want to take a swim.”

William moved from beneath Lady Marissa and helped Wentworth and
Sebastian push the other boat away from theirs, making their boat stable again.
They were taking on water in a slow trickle. Wentworth barked out orders to
several servants to plug the hole. No more time to think about the leak, as
screams from the water demanded their attention. Many people struggled in the
water trying to stay afloat, but their clothing made it difficult.

“Amelia!” William screamed at the top of his lungs as he scanned the
water looking for her.

William quickly tried to figure out who was missing. Amelia, Spencer,
Yarmouth, Trenton, and Bella were no longer on board.
Dear God, please save
them.
Wentworth and Sebastian jumped along with William into the cool,
muddy water. It appeared their boat and the one that hit them were not the only
ones having difficulties.

The confusion had caused several boats to capsize, and many people
fought to stay afloat in the water, making their rescue more difficult.

“Amelia!” William screamed again as he attempted to tread water in the
cool, smelly river. He thought he heard her answer him, but it proved difficult
to tell. Numerous people screamed in panic as occupants of other boats tried to
pluck them out of the water to safety. William prayed someone had done the same
for Amelia.

“Spencer!” he bellowed just as someone kicked him in the face. William
went under, inhaling the disgusting water. He fought to surface and came up
coughing and gagging. Had Spencer heard him? Then he witnessed Spencer and
Bella being hauled aboard a large boat. At least he prayed his eyes didn’t
deceive him.

“Amelia!” he yelled again. But too many screams pierced the air around
him. She would never hear him. He thought he caught a glimpse of Yarmouth being
pulled up onto a boat. William’s lungs burned and his arms and legs tired, but
he would not leave the water until he found his wife.

“Oh God,” he mumbled, “please don’t take her from me.”

“Bridgeton.” William turned around in the water to see Wentworth
helping a lady, unfamiliar from this angle, aboard their boat. His heart
soared, until he realized the drenched woman was indeed a stranger.

His heart sank at Wentworth’s next words.

“I can’t find Amelia,” Wentworth shouted.

William used what little energy he had left and swam around, stopping
at every nearby boat, seeking his wife. He did indeed find Spencer and Bella,
soaking wet and shivering upon the Marquess of Newbury’s boat. He also found
Yarmouth on another boat, but no sign of Trenton and Amelia. Eventually, with a
heavy heart, tears burning his throat and eyes, William swam back to their
boat. Wentworth and Sebastian hauled him aboard. Right after William hit the
wet floor of the boat with a loud thud, someone thrust a glass of wine into his
trembling hands.

He downed it in one gulp, choking and gasping for air. Chills racked
his body from head to toe. “Where is she?”

***

Amelia’s eyes widened in horror as she tumbled over William and hit the
murky Thames with a splash. How she managed to keep her mouth shut and not
inhale large gulps of water she did not know. Immediately her body became
tangled up with another woman’s, their skirts and pelisses making it difficult
to separate and stay afloat. An arm came out of nowhere, curled around her
waist, and pulled her away from the woman and her boat.

She tried not to struggle, knowing the person was trying to help her,
but it proved difficult to fight the panic that had taken control.

“Easy Countess, I have you,” said her savior.

At least she thought he was her savior, except something about the way
he spoke, had her panicking again. She tried and tried to twist around in the
water to see who held her. The more she tried, the tighter the man’s grip
became until she fought to take air into her lungs. Heart pounding, body
shivering, she stared in terror as he swam, pulling her farther and farther
away from all the boats. Didn’t someone see them? Several times her head went
under water and she came up gasping for air.

“Why are you doing this?” she yelled, knowing this time he heard her.

“Come now, Countess, you know why. I need to finish what I started. How
convenient someone rammed our boat. Alas, too bad I can’t finish it right here
and now. I can’t risk the chance of being seen. I must get us to shore.” The
voice? The voice! She knew the voice.
Sir Phillip Trenton.

The realization he had tried to kill her before, seized her heart. That
meant he would complete it now. And she was helpless and at his mercy.
Or
was she?
She kicked her legs and swung out with her arms, trying to hurt
Trenton any way she could. For a brief moment he let go of her. Hope soared
inside her.

It vanished as large hands painfully grasped her head and shoved her
beneath the water. Amelia, eyes wide, saw nothing in the dirty water. Her mouth
was open and she silently screamed, causing water to enter her lungs. Time was
suspended.

Visions flashed in her mind of the day Olivia entered the world, seeing
her daughter’s beautiful face for the first time. The love bursting in her
heart for the precious child Captain Rycroft gifted her with. Flashes of
herself talking and laughing with Bridgeton at their special stream, the first
kiss they shared, and how he had made her body come alive for the first time
since her Captain’s death.

Memories of her family sitting in the morning room, smiling and sharing
stories about the previous night’s ball, shredded her heart. Dizzy, she was so
dizzy and weak. Her eyes still open, she witnessed a bright light in the
distance. She fought the pull of the light. She wasn’t ready to die. No matter
how much she fought it, the light found her. It spilled over her and wrapped
her inside its warm cocoon. It whispered her name.

“Amelia.”