WANTON (7 page)

“It’s...Lucas Drake,” Amelia blurted out. Stupidly, she added, “He’s Lord Sidwell’s son.”

“Lucas is your fiancé? What an...interesting conundrum.”

“What do you mean?”

“His father is always betrothing him, but he’s refused every match.”

“He’s refused me too,” Amelia admitted, and she scowled. “How many times has he been engaged?”

“A dozen? More?”

“Well,” Amelia muttered, “that certainly makes me feel special.”

“At least you’re pretty,” Barbara said. “Most of the girls Lord Sidwell has chosen have been hideous.”

“Thank you—I guess.”

“Why are you sitting out here all alone?”

Amelia sighed, her anguish impossible to conceal. She recognized that she should remain silent, but she was glad to have a confidante—even if it was a stranger. The woman was older and definitely wiser and, hopefully, she could provide some useful advice or commiseration.

“I have no idea why I’m at this ball. I don’t even have a suitable gown. I tried mingling, but people assume I’m a servant, and they kept telling me to bring them champagne. I was too humiliated to stay inside.”

Barbara laughed, deeming Amelia’s confession to be hilarious, and Amelia’s shoulders sagged with defeat.

“Didn’t that idiot George Drake buy you any clothes?”

“No.”

“I suppose you didn’t think you could ask him for any.”

“No.”

“You poor thing.”

Barbara patted Amelia’s knee, and the gesture was so unexpected and so kind that tears swarmed into Amelia’s eyes. In light of her upbringing, there had been few occasions for someone to demonstrate overt kindness, and it was so rare that she was terribly undone by it.

“Could I ask you a question?” Amelia said.

“Of course. Anything.”

“I’m in desperate need of advice.”

“I will give it if I can, although I must warn you that my son—Lord Penworth—as well as most every person in London would insist I shouldn’t be allowed to counsel anyone on any topic.”

Amelia studied Barbara, and she seemed worldly and experienced, and Amelia suspected she’d also be very astute. Besides, who else was there? Lord Sidwell? Amelia already knew his view of the situation.

“Miss Peabody’s school where I worked has been closed, so I can’t return there. And I have no family or funds. Mr. Drake and I are completely incompatible, and we’ve both agreed that the engagement shouldn’t be honored, but his father begged me to try anyway.”

“To
try
how?”

“Well, to ingratiate myself with Mr. Drake. To see if I can change his mind.”

“In
that
dress?”

Barbara snorted with mirth, and this time, Amelia joined in. The entire farce was too preposterous to be believed.

“Yes, in this dress. I have two others exactly like it and that’s it.”

“This tale of woe grows more pitiful by the moment.”

“If you were me, what would you do? I’d like to leave, but I have nowhere to go, and Mr. Drake has a paramour around every corner. He was out here in the garden with—”

“Nanette,” Barbara chimed in. “Yes, they just snuck back inside.”

“Nanette? You know her?”

“Nanette Nipton, notorious opera dancer and mercenary trollop. Their names have been linked for years.”

“Wonderful,” Amelia grumbled. “She’s married?”

“To a very elderly, very deaf fool, but he’s a very rich, elderly fool. It’s the only sort of man who intrigues Nanette—the rich ones—so I never understood why she bothers with Lucas. Then again, he is charming when he wants to be.”

“Apparently, her husband is out of town,” Amelia whispered, feeling scandalous to mention it, “and they were on their way to her home to...bathe.”

Amelia had anticipated astonishment, but Barbara grinned and exclaimed, “That rascal!”

“You don’t find such behavior appalling?”

“Not at all. Not for a rogue like Lucas, and with Nanette’s glorious body, how could he resist the chance to see it naked? She flaunts it, and most every man in the city has dallied with her. Why not Lucas?”

Barbara’s blithe acceptance of such salacious conduct was shocking and disturbing. Previously, Amelia had worried about the prurient antics of which she’d been unaware. Obviously, there was a different standard for some people. Or perhaps customs were more relaxed among wealthy elites.

“I couldn’t imagine marrying him,” Amelia said. “Not when he’s so loose with his morals and beliefs.”

“Nonsense, Miss Hubbard. Didn’t you know? A libertine can be the very best husband.”

“Why would he be?”

“Because a libertine is fun and impetuous and open to all manner of amusement. He’d never be some stuffy, fussy oaf who complains and constantly nags.” She leaned nearer and murmured, “And a libertine is wild in the bedchamber. You’d never regret your more intimate marital duties as some poor girls do.”

At the lewd intimation, Amelia’s cheeks flushed bright red, and she was glad it was dark so Barbara wouldn’t notice. Compared to sophisticated adults such as Barbara and Mr. Drake, Amelia was immature, unrefined, and clueless. How could she ever hope to fit in in such a degenerate society?

Barbara was assessing Amelia with a keen eye, as if considering her for a whole new purpose. Suddenly, she smiled and said, “I have the most marvelous idea.”

“What is it?”

“First, tell me what Lord Sidwell offered you as an enticement to wed.”

“An estate in Surrey with a good income.”

“So...he’d like Lucas to be a gentleman farmer?”

“Well...yes.”

“I can’t see it, can you?”

“No.”

“But I suppose anything is possible.”

“I suppose,” Amelia concurred, not thinking so at all.

“To own such a property, it would be a huge boon for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Even if you wed Lucas, and he trotted off and left you, you’d have an excellent home. You could remain in the country where you’d be stable and safe.”

“That’s not much of an inducement to me. I couldn’t bear to have a philandering husband.”

“Yes, but would you like to have your own home?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Trust me, I’ve struggled in my life to keep a roof over my head, and you shouldn’t discount such a gift.”

“If it comes with a scoundrel like Lucas Drake as part of the package,” Amelia responded, “it might be a Trojan-horse kind of gift. There might be no benefit to receiving it.”

“Or you might get lucky. You might make Lucas fall in love with you. He might become so smitten that he would never leave.”

Amelia laughed. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.” Barbara assessed Amelia again, and her gaze was shrewd and cunning. “This is what I propose.”

“What?”

“I’ve been so bored. I could use a new project.”

“What project?”

“We should scheme on Lucas Drake and coerce him into marrying you.”

“I thought you wanted a project, not a miracle.”

“You’d be surprised what conclusions I can arrange,” Barbara boasted. “You asked my advice about your predicament, and here it is: You need to convince Lucas Drake to wed you so you can force Lord Sidwell to sign over the estate he promised.”

“I don’t know, Barbara.” Amelia sighed. “It sounds too fantastic, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“It’s a grand idea. I’m much older and more experienced than you, and I’ve learned the hard way what you must do to protect yourself and secure your future. And that is what we shall do. We shall get you protected. After you’re situated, Lucas can jump off a cliff for all I care.”

“How would we even start?”

“I’ll take you under my wing. We’ll begin by removing you from Lord Sidwell’s custody and control.”

“Where would I go?”

“You’ll stay with me.”

“You’re mad. I couldn’t impose on you.”

“You’re not imposing. I’ve invited you, haven’t I? You’re also forgetting that your brother is a friend of mine, so it’s all very proper. Don’t whine.”

“All right, I won’t.”

“You can settle in, then we’ll work on your wardrobe and your feminine wiles.”

“My feminine
wiles?
” Amelia asked. “I don’t believe I have any.”

“I’ll give you some of mine.” Barbara winked. “I have plenty, so I’m happy to share. By the time I’m through with you, Lucas Drake will be begging you to wed.

“Begging?” Amelia skeptically asked.

“Yes, down-on-one-knee, pleading, anxious, begging for your hand. He won’t know what hit him.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Are you nervous?”

“Terrified.”

“Don’t be. You look fabulous.”

Amelia smiled a tremulous smile at her new friend and benefactress, Barbara Middleton.

It was amazing how a chance meeting on a garden bench could render such swift and head-spinning changes.

Barbara had whisked her out of Lord Sidwell’s house, and he’d scarcely argued about it—as if he’d been relieved to have her take charge of Amelia. She’d been transported to Barbara’s home and ensconced in a comfortable bedchamber. Then Barbara had begun the task of altering Amelia into someone she really wasn’t.

For the prior three days, Amelia had been plucked and massaged and measured and trimmed. Seamstresses had arrived to modify some of Barbara’s old clothes. She and Amelia were close in height, but Barbara was more voluptuous, so there’d been extensive snipping and tucking.

Amelia wasn’t certain how she felt about the whole affair. Her circumstances were no more settled than they had been. She was living with another stranger, although Barbara was much more pleasant than Lord Sidwell, but Amelia was being treated like a pet, as if groomed to prance about on the end of a leash.

Lord Sidwell had extracted Amelia’s promise that she’d spend a month trying to entice Mr. Drake, and she would honor that vow. But after the month had passed, what would become of her? Though Barbara had been kind and generous, Amelia scarcely knew her, so she was in no position to overstay her welcome.

Amelia was coasting on Barbara’s charity and pretending there was no deadline looming. What she would do when that deadline arrived was anybody’s guess.

She’d written to Rose and Evangeline, telling them what had happened, but she hadn’t heard back from either one. They appeared to have vanished, and she wondered how she’d ever contact them again. She’d hoped they might provide assistance later on, after Barbara was through with her, but if Amelia couldn’t locate them, she’d be in even deeper trouble.

So what was Amelia thinking? She’d always viewed herself as smart and pragmatic, but she was making wild, irrational decisions, flitting from one idea to the next without pausing to ponder what was best.

After all their extensive preparation, Barbara had declared Amelia ready for a public entrance. They were riding in a carriage, and it rumbled to a halt. The footmen were lowering the step as Amelia tugged on the curtain and peeked out at the large mansion towering over them.

“Are you sure Mr. Drake will be here?” Amelia asked.

“I ordered my son, John, to include him on the guest list.”

“He can be so obstinate. Will he show up?”

“I expect he will. John and Lucas’s brother, Aaron, were school chums, and Lucas is always broke. He’ll come just to eat the food and drink the liquor.”

“What a sad comment on the state of his life.”

“It’s common enough for men of his station. I survived for years by letting other people feed me.”

Barbara was a notorious figure in London. As a young bride and mother, she’d deserted her husband and baby, had fled to the Continent with a lover who’d promptly abandoned her. Then she’d engaged in a series of infamous affairs, moving from country to country and making a spectacle of herself wherever she went.

Finally, after nearly three decades of wandering, she’d traveled back to England, and after a rough patch, had been welcomed by her son, John Middleton, Lord Penworth. She probably wasn’t the most appropriate person to introduce Amelia into London society, but then again, Barbara was shameless and brazen, and she was teaching those traits to Amelia so Amelia could use them on poor, unsuspecting Lucas Drake.

She supposed she should have shunned Barbara, and in saner times, she would have. In saner times, they would never have crossed paths. Yet Barbara had offered to help, and Amelia was desperate. Her only other option was to return to Lord Sidwell’s home, to stagger around after him for a month, but that hardly seemed the way to accomplish any goal.

The carriage door swung open, and as they climbed down, Amelia surreptitiously pulled at the neckline of her gown. It was a luxurious garment, like nothing she could ever have imagined owning. Bright red in color, it shimmered when she walked so she glowed. She looked rich and beautiful in it, but it exposed a significant portion of flesh, and she was suffering from a constant urge to find a shawl and cover herself.

Barbara noticed her fussing with the fabric and scolded, “Stop worrying about your bodice. Your breasts are your best attributes, Amelia. You shouldn’t hide them.”

“I feel undressed.”

“Don’t think about it. Think instead about how Lucas’s jaw will drop when he realizes it’s you.”

Amelia was curious if he’d recognize her. With her hair elaborately styled, and her gown highlighting her curves and valleys, there was very little about her that resembled the mousy, prim schoolteacher he’d met at Sidwell Manor.

“I have a surprise for you,” Barbara mentioned once they were on the stairs leading into the mansion.

“What is it?”

“I believe I’ve located your brother.”

“Oh, Barbara, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in years.”

“He should visit us tomorrow.”

“I’m so thrilled to hear it.”

Amelia was overwhelmed with gladness and—right in the middle of the majestic foyer—she hugged Barbara with all her might.

“Thank you—for everything.”

“You’re welcome. And quit thanking me. It’s getting annoying. Besides, I’m having the time of my life. I haven’t been this amused since I schemed on my son so he’d marry my daughter-in-law, Lily.”

They were being swept along with the crowd toward the ballroom. Orchestra music wafted out, and Amelia struggled to affect a jaded demeanor, to not gawk at the opulent surroundings.