Undressed by the Earl (20 page)

A flutter of nerves took residence in her stomach, but she put on a brave face and tried to behave older than twenty.
Behave as if you know what you’re doing
, she told herself.
Be stronger than you feel.

When the earl led her inside, he introduced her to many of the servants. The only name she remembered was Gus Haverford, the butler, who smiled warmly and welcomed her to the household. She liked him immediately, but the other names blurred together until she could hardly conjure up any of them.

“I’ll leave you to speak with the housekeeper,” the earl said.

She probably had met the housekeeper, but honestly, Amelia didn’t remember the woman at all. The idea of being abandoned so suddenly was intimidating, to say the least.

“I’d rather you gave me a tour of the house,” she suggested. At least, then, she could get her bearings and gather her courage.

He offered her his arm, and when they walked beyond the servants, she whispered, “I know there will be many expectations of me, as your countess. I’ll do everything I can to fit in with your life here. But for now, could we just be Amelia and David?”

David’s hand tightened over hers. “We
are
friends,” he agreed. “That won’t change.”

Amelia mustered a smile. Was it possible to change his mind and move beyond friendship? Over the past few days, she’d chipped away at the icy emotional armor he wore like a shield. She’d tempted him into kissing her and had found a very different man beneath it all. Passionate and strong, he knew just how to take apart her defenses.

She wanted so much more than he was offering. And tonight was her strongest chance at winning the first battle.

“We could have our supper upstairs,” she suggested. Away from prying eyes and anyone who might interrupt.

He guided her toward a small sitting room, and as soon as she entered the space, Amelia grew overwhelmed. Nearly every surface of the room contained curios and trinkets. Some were made of porcelain, while others were miniature marble statues in the Neoclassical style. Upon the opposite wall, she spied a portrait of a dark-haired woman. She could only guess that it must have been Katherine. At her questioning look, the earl nodded.

“She enjoyed her…collection,” he admitted.

“I can see that.” Amelia was now somewhat worried about what her bedchamber would look like. She envisioned more cluttered tabletops and possibly a dressing table that would have a hundred bottles of scent upon it. “If you don’t mind, I should like to see my room.”

And please let it not have been hers
, she thought.

“Of course.” He led her up two more flights of stairs until they reached a narrow door near the servants’ quarters. “I thought you would be comfortable in here.”

A sinking sensation took hold in Amelia’s stomach. The room was far away from the other bedrooms, and when he opened it, she saw that it was hardly more than a single bed and a dressing table. Had it belonged to one of the maids?

No. He couldn’t mean this, could he? Surely he was mistaken. “I don’t think it’s at all appropriate for me to stay here,” she said quietly.

He shrugged. “The room is small, but it’s clean. There’s a nice view of London from the window.”

Amelia took a breath and closed the door behind him. Did he not see what was wrong with this? Or had he done it deliberately, to keep her at arm’s length?

“The room was not being used, so I thought there was no harm in it.” He cleared his throat, adding, “I didn’t think you would want Katherine’s room. This house is small, and there aren’t many bedrooms.”

Perhaps he thought that by putting her here, she would be far away from him, out of temptation’s way. Surely he had another bedroom for guests. And yet, he seemed determined to keep her at a distance. She had to put a stop to it right now.

“No,” she said quietly. “I cannot stay in this bedroom. It makes me feel as if I am a servant, isolated from the family.” She raised her eyes to his. “Surely there is another room closer to yours.”

He stilled, as if he couldn’t believe she’d dared to challenge him. But honestly,
why
would he believe she would want to stay here, of all places? She was now the lady of the household, and yet he was treating her like a houseguest instead of a wife.

Amelia moved closer and rested her hands upon his shoulders. “Or, if you have no other rooms, I could always share yours. My parents shared a bedroom when I was growing up.”

He could have been a statue, with no expression at all. “It may be small, but it will do, for now.”

No, it wouldn’t. And if he wouldn’t find her something more appropriate, Amelia intended to take the necessary steps to find a room of her own.

“I should…see to a few things,” the earl remarked. “You can join me in the dining room tonight for supper.”

In other words, he was seeking a quick escape. And if she did nothing or said nothing, he would continue to push her away.

“Wait a moment,” she whispered. She reached out and took both of his hands in hers. From the moment her gloved palms touched his, she sensed the hesitancy in him. Lord Castledon’s blue eyes were guarded, his posture tense. Before he could protest, Amelia embraced him, resting her cheek against his heart. Though he appeared uncertain about what to do, soon enough, his arms came around her shoulders, which was a good sign.

“Don’t let’s quarrel so soon,” she said softly. “We are now husband and wife, and I want us to make a good marriage, in spite of our beginning.”

If her sisters and mother had taught her anything, it was that sweet words always got a woman what she wanted. Much more than arguing.

“I want to thank you for what you did. You didn’t have to wed me to save my family’s good name.” And that really was the truth. He’d behaved with honor, helping her out of an impossible situation.

There was a slight relaxation in his grip, and Lord Castledon admitted, “I didn’t want you to be a victim of Lord Lisford’s exploits, like your sister.”

The mention of Margaret dimmed her spirits once more, but she pushed back the fear. “Do you think Lisford will ever return to London?”

He drew back slightly. “I don’t really care. Does it matter?”

“No, I don’t suppose it does.” It was odd to realize that she no longer felt anything for the man, save pity. Once, she’d placed all of her dreams upon the viscount. Thankfully, she’d awakened from what could have turned out to be a nightmare.

He released her and stepped back. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“Lord Castledon,” she interrupted, before he could leave.

“When we’re alone, you may call me David,” he corrected. “Or Hartford.”

She liked the name David, and it suited him. “David, then.” Amelia took a breath to fortify her courage. “I won’t ever try to take Katherine’s place. But neither do I want you to treat me like a stranger or a servant. We’re married now, and…that should mean something more.”

He didn’t realize what he was doing, Amelia thought to herself. The man was utterly lost with a second wife. And whatever decisions she made in the next few days would shape her life with him.

He said nothing to that but took her hand and squeezed it. “I will see you later tonight.”

Though Amelia was inwardly terrified of her wedding night, neither did she want to spend it in the servants’ quarters. Somehow, she had to push past his expectations and make a place for herself.

David avoided Amelia for the rest of the afternoon. He knew she’d spent time talking with the servants and making arrangements for her own lady’s maid. Her presence was quiet, but he’d known she was there. In fact, it was impossible to do any work at all.

An ordinary bridegroom would have spent the day with his bride, enjoying her presence. But Amelia set him on edge, reawakening a dormant desire. He hungered for her physically, and though he told himself that time and distance would solve the problem, his body had little interest in listening to his brain.

When he arrived at the dinner table, Haverford was waiting. “My lord, Lady Castledon asked that your supper be served upstairs in your bedchamber.” The older man’s face held a trace of color, but he continued, “She wanted to surprise you.”

Did she? David wasn’t certain what to think of that, but his suspicions sharpened. He didn’t let the butler know of his discomfort, but he merely nodded and walked up the stairs.

He had no idea what Amelia was planning, but he suspected that it involved seduction. He gripped the banister, gathering his control. He wasn’t certain if he would consummate the marriage tonight. It wasn’t wise, for he hardly trusted himself right now.

When he reached the door of his room, he opened it and found his wife waiting on the floor. She had spread a blanket there and had drawn the drapes to darken the room. Candles were lit all around, casting an amber glow over the furnishings.

Although she was fully dressed, he saw that she was barefoot. The blue gown set off her skin tone, and his eyes were drawn to the pearl necklace around her throat. He’d left the pearls for her as a wedding gift and was glad she’d found them.

“I thought we could have an indoor picnic,” she said. “Victoria told me about one she had with the duke, and it sounded terribly romantic.”

The soft anticipation on her face brought up his defenses. He had to put a stop to these ideas of romance before he broke her heart. “Amelia, you shouldn’t—”

“No.” She held up her hand. “This is our wedding day and our wedding night. At least let me fulfill one dream, to have a romantic evening with my new husband.”

David didn’t know what to say to that. When she pointed to a place across from her, he noticed a plate and silverware.

“Well, you have to eat, don’t you?” She sat down, tucking her bare feet beneath her skirts. “It might as well be with me.” When she uncovered a silver platter, he saw a spread of cheeses, bread, and thinly sliced meats.

He felt like the fly being invited to dinner by the spider. Though Amelia was untouched by any man, she was also far too naïve about his control. Didn’t she realize how long it had been since he’d lain with a woman? Or did she not know how badly he wanted her?

With reluctance, he sat down, and Amelia picked up his plate. She began choosing food for him, and when she bent forward, her gown gaped slightly, revealing a dark blue chemise. The glimpse of lace made him imagine her bare skin covered only by the sheer material.

A jolt of desire went straight to his groin. But when he stared at her, she behaved as if nothing were amiss. When she handed him the plate, he caught a full view of generous curves and a darker nipple peeking through the swath of silk and lace.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered beneath his breath. She was going to be the death of him.

Amelia glanced at him sharply. “What was that?”

He hadn’t meant to voice that aloud. Thinking fast, he blurted out, “I said some cheese would be nice.”

Amelia didn’t look entirely as if she believed him, but she gave him a selection of white cheese. “Which would you prefer? Hard or soft?”

God above.

He nearly choked at her words and said, “Either is fine.”

Wine. He needed a great deal of wine to make it through this meal.

“I prefer hard, myself,” she said cheerfully, and it was all he could do not to spew the wine across the tablecloth. But again, there was no sly look of innuendo—only the bright eagerness of a newly married bride.

When she handed him the plate, the gown slid down one shoulder, baring her skin. What on earth was happening to her clothing? The soft curve of her shoulder made him want to taste that skin, to watch gooseflesh break over her bare flesh.

“Your sleeve is down,” he pointed out, draining his cup.

“I know.” Amelia took it from him and refilled the wine. “I asked my maid to loosen my gown and corset so I wouldn’t need her help any more tonight.” Though she spoke the words calmly, he didn’t believe for a moment that it was a coincidence.

His new wife had planned this, and it seemed that she was making every effort to seduce him. The wicked side to him was more than willing, and his groin was aching at the sight of her.

David tried to distract himself with food, but he was acutely conscious of her bare shoulders and the rope of pearls nestled against the hollow of her throat. He imagined taking down the pearls, rolling them across her nipples, sliding the beads over her skin.

Amelia reached for her own glass of wine, and again, the gown slipped farther down, revealing the top of the chemise. It was every bit as daring as he’d seen earlier—some frothy bit of lace and silk that showed far too much. When he gave his full attention to his food, he inwardly wondered what Katherine would have thought of this.

Don’t spend the rest of your life grieving over me
, she’d made him swear. And he hadn’t expected to. But neither was he ready for this, much as his body insisted upon it.

David drained his wine and poured himself a third cup. He was well on his way to becoming drunk at this pace, and frankly, he didn’t care. Amelia was talking about the servants, something about maids and God only knew what.