To Tame a Dragon (6 page)

Her mother laughed. “You thrive in such
conditions, my dear. You are never happier than when moving your
chess pieces around.”

Amelia sat slumped in the chair for a moment,
then straightened her spine. “Yes, you’re right. I shall simply
have to make him see reason. Shan’t be too difficult, as long as
he stays sober.”

She picked up her needlepoint again, focusing
on the task only through sheer force of will, and wondered how
she was to get rid of all the liquor in England.

Jameson arrived early the next morning, his
standing invitation to breakfast putting him in good stead.

“Good morning, Lady Beckham. You’re looking
marvelous as always.”

“Thank you, Jameson. I haven’t seen you so
early in the morning for ages. Robin won’t be around for
breakfast for another hour or so.”

“I’ve actually come for the dra—, for Amelia.
Is she awake?”

“Of course she’s awake. Are you escorting her
somewhere this morning?”

“I thought she might like a stroll through
the green.”

Lady Beckham eyed him. “Forgive me for saying
so, Jameson, but would it be prudent to stroll through the green
so soon after your, ah...”

Amelia pushed open the door and made her way
to the breakfast dishes. “It would be idiotic, as I’m sure he’s
well aware. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at her frown. “I’ve come to thank
you for helping Miss Underwood get over her ill-advised
engagement to me.”

Lady Beckham tsked. “Oh, Jameson. She would
have been very happy married to you. As would any young woman.”

“No, no. Your daughter has more of the idea.
I’m afraid only a fairly special girl would be able to handle
me.”

Amelia scoffed. “The devil wouldn’t be able
to handle you.”

He smiled. “Well, certainly
something
with horns and fire could.”

Lady Beckham looked at the scowl on her
daughter’s face. She looked at the focused smile on Jameson’s
face.

Oh, dear.
This would change a few
things. Now she could see why Amelia had been so agitated
yesterday.

Amelia filled her plate. “The green is too
public. Let’s ease you, not dump you, back into society.”

“You’ll have to ease me back in quickly, my
dear. I’ve already accepted an invitation to the Gratham’s
ball.”

Amelia’s plate hit the table with a thud.
“Jameson! Can you not consult me before you go haring off? We
must orchestrate your entrance with Clarice. We don’t know if
she is going and I was planning on keeping the two of you
separated for a while.” She shook her head. “Gratham’s will be a
madhouse. A ball!”

“Both Robin and you have told me that Miss
Underwood is fine, that she’ll be finding herself married in no
time.”

“That is true, but that doesn’t mean you can
act like it never happened. Let people get used to you again,
let the rumors die down.” She looked to her mother. “I don’t
suppose he can cancel?”

Lady Beckham shook her head. “It will be all
over London by now. Lady Gratham will have the hit of the year.”

Amelia glowered at Jameson. “You make my life
very difficult. Please restrict yourself to a daily visit to
your club; we shall simply have to make a grand entrance work.
Do you think you can restrain yourself from any other grand
gestures until then?”

He bowed. “Until then, my dear. And you know
I would apologize if it weren’t true that you were getting as
bored with hiding as I was. No stroll through the green then?”

Amelia refused to answer such a rhetorical
question and began eating quickly.

“I must go and warn Clarice. If we have any
luck at all she will not have accepted yet.” She glared at
Jameson. “I am not counting on it.”

Amelia arrived quite early at the
Underwood’s. Too early, in fact. But it was an emergency, and
she informed the butler of that when he refused to show her in.

Amelia had already won against this opponent
and she knew his weakness. “She’s learned of it already, I suppose.
Crying? Hysterics? The whole household in an uproar? I am always
too late. One of these times I hope to get here and prevent the
hullabaloo in the first place. When there is a break, please
inform Miss Underwood I was here.”

She was, unsurprisingly, shown in. She was
left waiting longer than she expected, but not everyone was as
early a riser as she.

Clarice looked apprehensive when she entered
the drawing room. “Lady Amelia? What is the matter?”

“As always, it is Jameson making a muddle of
things. I am sorry to come so early, but I had hoped to arrive
before any invitations were accepted and dispatched. The
Gratham’s ball?”

Clarice shook her head slowly. “We can not
attend. Papa had already invited a small party to dinner for
that night.”

Amelia slumped in her seat, a breath escaping
her. Then she laughed and straightened. “I was so sure this was
going to be a catastrophe. But luck has held!”

“Lady Amelia, I am lost. What is happening at
the Gratham’s ball that would have been so disastrous?”

“Jameson accepted. He’s beginning to go out
in society again but nowhere you would see each other. I had
planned to keep him circulating on the fringes but he jumped in
without consulting me. It’s really starting to become a
problem.”

Clarice looked out the window a moment before
nodding. “I am not ready to see him yet. I have felt confident
knowing I wouldn’t run into him, but now... how do I act? I
can’t give him the cut direct, he’s an earl!”

“I quite agree. But we needn’t worry about
that yet. In a few months you will be engaged again and can
acknowledge him with equanimity. Oh, I’m so relieved. And in the
future I will make sure we coordinate events better between the
two of you.”

“I was so upset that I couldn’t attend but
perhaps Grandmama is right. Sometimes things do happen for the
best.”

“That’s the way to look at it. Now, I shall
leave you to your breakfast. I’ll call again at a more
reasonable hour to see what events you are planning to attend.
I’ll keep Jameson out of your hair for as long as needs be, my
dear.”

Clarice nodded unhappily. “Lady Amelia?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“He will not be coming back, will he?”

A melancholy air surrounded the poor girl and
Amelia took her hand. These last weeks she had been so focused
on salvaging Clarice’s social standing that she had quite
ignored the hurt and betrayal the poor girl must certainly be
feeling. Amelia knew those feelings well, even if she too had
been forced to hide them.

They sat quietly together until Amelia
whispered, “Men are louts.”

Clarice gasped, then giggled. “It’s really
too bad we must put up with them.”

Amelia smiled. “I’ve often thought that a
nunnery must be so peaceful. Imagine, men locked out!”

They laughed, then Clarice sighed. “But
perhaps it would be a bit boring.”

Amelia patted her hand and stood to leave.
“Of that, I have no doubt.”

T
he next few weeks’ events were coordinated,
and a promise wrung from Jameson that he would not accept any
more invitations before consulting her. Amelia decided to enjoy
the Gratham’s ball herself. It had been a stressful few weeks
and she had no doubt Jameson would find more ways to
inconvenience her. She had to take moments to herself when she
could. Besides, it had been nearly two weeks since she had been
subjected to a ridiculous proposal, if one didn’t count
Jameson’s and she didn’t, and she found herself in need of
entertainment. Perhaps tonight some young idiot would get drunk
enough to propose.

Jameson, Robin, Amelia, and Lady Beckham
arrived beyond fashionably late. They sat in the coach, arguing.
Now that the moment was upon him, Jameson had realized that he
had no idea how he would be received by the
ton
, and had
tried to wheedle his way out. Unfortunately for him, Amelia was
in no mood.

“I hope you do feel some disapproval,
Jameson. You acted without thought and hurt Clarice terribly. I
hope you get a few cuts.”

Robin scolded her. “You’re being very harsh
tonight. He does not need disapproval from you; who knows what
he’ll be subjected to in there.”

Jameson was quiet, sitting with his head back
and his eyes half-closed.

Amelia sat forward. “It is not you who has
picked up the pieces these last weeks. It is not you who has
held Clarice’s hand while she cried, or when she finally
accepted that Jameson never loved her. I did. I am still his
friend, though he hardly deserves it. Perhaps it is vengeance on
my part that I hope he feels a smidgen of the pain he has
caused. Or perhaps it is simply that I never want to go through
this again and a few good cuts would help him learn the lesson.”

Robin leaned forward, gesturing wildly at
Jameson. “Do you honestly think he has not suffered? That he
does not feel the shame and cowardice of what he’s done? Do you
think he doesn’t know how horribly he treated the poor girl? He
drinks himself to a stupor nearly every night.”

“Is that new? I couldn’t tell.”

Lady Beckham’s reason-filled voice
interrupted the siblings feud. “Perhaps we are all too wound up
to attend this evening. We can cry off, come up with some
excuse.”

Amelia sat back with a huff. “No, we can’t.
Just look at this madhouse. They all want to see him, let them
see him.”

Jameson took a deep breath and knocked the
top of the carriage with his cane. “Enough.”

The door was opened and he alighted. He held
his hand out to assist Amelia. “My dear, if I could do it over
and save Miss Underwood from all the pain I have caused I would
marry her and be a miserable drunken sod for the rest of my
days. But I still think that she will be much happier without
me. Let us go in and see what my punishment is to be. Whatever
it is, I am sure we agree I deserve much more.”

Amelia took his hand, stepping down. She
looked into his sad eyes and pushed her anger down; tonight
reminded her too much of her own brush with scandal and she was
finding it hard to keep her emotions calm.  “No, you don’t.
I am getting you mixed up with another drunken fool who
shattered a young girl’s naiveté. Forgive me, my emotions
are too close to the surface tonight.”

He bowed, kissing her gloved hand. “If Robin
hadn’t beaten that shabbaroon to a pulp, I would have shot him.
In the bollocks.”

Amelia gasped and looked to see if anyone was
close enough to hear, then snapped her fan against his arm.
“Jameson, really!” But she ascended the stairs in a much better
mood.

Jameson and Lady Beckham entered first,
followed by Robin and Amelia. The loud and boisterous crowd
slowly quieted as they descended into the party, but they simply
continued towards the Grathams.

The quiet rankled, but Amelia had walked this
battlefield before, and with much higher consequences for
failure. Oh, Jameson would feel the sting, but he was a man with
a title. An unmarried man with a title and a fortune. Society
would be more than willing to overlook his lapse in judgment, if
only for the chance to throw their daughters at him again.

The Grathams welcomed all of them warmly, but
the fawning was for Jameson. “Oh, Lord Nighting. You honor us
with your presence tonight.”

“Thank you for the invitation.”

“Not at all, not at all. You remember my
daughter, Lady Gertrude.”

“Of course. I hope you have room on your
card, Lady Gertrude.”

Amelia smiled at Jameson and allowed Robin to
lead her off. She was glad to know that unmarried men of title
had their own punishments after all.

She circulated the room, listening for quiet
voices behind fans, whispered giggles, contemptuous looks.

Clarice’s standing had always been in much
graver danger than Jameson’s and Amelia had acted accordingly.
The girl had no title, small fortune, and few connections—at least
when compared to her former fiancé. It would have been
natural for society to put themselves in the Earl’s corner and
Amelia had worked hard to fight that.