WANTON (28 page)

“It was. I would attend balls with him, and my attire was so drab that the other guests thought I was a servant. They kept asking me to fetch their champagne.”

Rose laughed and laughed, and her amusement dampened some of the sting of shame Amelia had suffered. And why should she feel any shame? Already the fiasco was starting to seem like a bad dream, as if it had happened to some other naïve, gullible woman rather than herself.

“You poor thing,” Rose murmured. “Well, you’re safely away from there. None of those horrid people can hurt you ever again.”

“I didn’t belong in their exalted company. I didn’t have the temerity required to fraternize with them, and I couldn’t abide their sloth.”

“You and I spent too many years working and being busy. We hate to be idle.” Rose picked up the teapot and poured them both more tea. Then she sat back and studied Amelia, her keen gaze digging deep. “What now?”

“Now...I don’t know.”

“You can remain at Summerfield for as long as you like. This mansion is so big, you can practically have a whole wing to yourself.”

“It’s lovely here, Rose. I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy too—and lucky.”

“Yes, very lucky,” Amelia agreed. “I can’t stay though.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t risk that Mr. Drake might visit.”

“To hell with Lucas,” Rose crudely fumed. “It’s my bloody house, and I can have whomever I choose for a guest. It’s none of his business.”

“I couldn’t bear to see him.” Rose looked as if she might argue the point, and very firmly, Amelia repeated, “I couldn’t bear it. Don’t ask it of me.”

“Oh, Amelia, it saddens me to have you so upset.”

“If I seem distressed, it’s because it all just occurred, and I’m still feeling very raw and abused. Now that I’ve left the city, time will fly by, and my condition will swiftly improve.”

Amelia wasn’t sure she believed it, and from Rose’s dubious scowl, Rose didn’t either. Amelia had been battered and bruised by her London experience, and she didn’t know if she’d ever fully recover.

“Tell me this, Amelia,” Rose said, “and be honest. Would you like to wed Lucas?”

“No!” Amelia hastily and fervidly replied.

“When a man seduces a woman, marriage is the price he pays. I could speak to James. He’s probably the only person in the world who can make Lucas do anything. Should we force him to marry you?”

“Never, Rose. Never.”

“Let’s not forget the estate in Surrey that you mentioned. Such a grand place is worth some heartache and trouble.”

“That blasted estate is how I got into this mess. Mrs. Middleton kept throwing it in my face as an excuse for any transgression, and I behaved like a lunatic because of it.”

“But after the wedding, we could persuade him to sign it over to you. Then you could kick him out and order him to never come back.”

“It’s humorous to contemplate, but I never would.”

“Why? It would be a perfect bit of revenge.”

“He’d still be my husband.” Amelia actually shuttered.

“There is that,” Rose mused.

“Rose, he didn’t care for me in the least. He merely pretended to like me so I’d ruin myself.”

“His loss, then, the despicable ass.”

“Remember how we used to talk when we were girls? About how we wanted to wed for love and live happily ever after?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I still want that, and if I can’t have it, then I’ll remain a spinster.”

Rose sighed. “Yes, I suppose it’s better that way. It’s just that—now that I’m marrying myself—I think everyone should give matrimony a try.”

Amelia smiled. “Don’t be smug about it. Don’t rub it in.”

“I won’t.”

“Do you imagine Miss Peabody knew what Mr. Drake was like when she betrothed me to him? Would she have disliked me so much that she’d put me in jeopardy?”

Rose patted Amelia’s hand again and said, “Let’s not consider it. You’ll drive yourself mad with wondering.”

“Yes, I will.”

“I prefer to believe she did what she thought was best, and for me, it worked out despite her misguided impulses.”

“Thank goodness.”

“It could work out for you too. You could have that happy ending you always craved.”

“I doubt it, Rose. I really doubt it.”

Amelia felt weary and irresponsible and imprudent in her choices and decisions. If she lived to be a hundred, she’d still be atoning for her sins.

“I have to pose a very delicate, very personal question.” Amelia’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“Anything. What is it?”

“You mentioned that you’re...ah...increasing.”

“I am.” Rose grinned. “James is accursedly virile.”

“How did you know James had planted a babe?”

“I didn’t right away. I was having dizzy spells, and then, I started to be ill with nausea in the mornings.
He
pointed out what was wrong. Before then, I simply figured I was suffering from too much stress.”

“I see.” Amelia peered down at her lap, not certain how to learn what she was desperate to discover.

Rose perceived her embarrassment. “Why are you asking me, Amelia? What are you trying to determine?”

“Well...I’ve heard that when a woman misses her monthlies, it’s an early sign that there’s a babe caught in her womb.”

“It is,” Rose slowly and carefully replied. “What are you saying, Amelia? Are you saying what I think you are?”

Amelia couldn’t look at Rose, could barely utter the words, but she forced herself to spit it out. “Can it happen from just one time? Mr. Drake insisted it couldn’t, but I’m not sure that’s true.”

“It can happen immediately.”

“Oh, no...” Amelia breathed.

“Oh, no...” Rose said too.

“I’m guessing I might need a bit more assistance from you than I assumed.”

“Now you have to marry him, Amelia!” Rose vehemently stated. “You
have
to, and I won’t listen to any of your nonsense.”

“I could move to a small village,” Amelia countered. “I could pretend to be a widow and that my husband was a soldier who was killed in Spain.”

“You could, but why lie about it?
Make
him behave as he ought. Please!”

“I can’t, Rose. I can’t! Don’t demand it of me. If I had to beg him to wed me, and he refused after all that transpired—which I’m positive he would—I’d die of shame.”

They stared and stared, lost in misery, awash with regret.

Finally, Rose shook her head. “I’m disgusted that he’s my cousin.”

“You can always claim he’s not,” Amelia lightly said.

“Unfortunately, that’s no longer an option.
He
has claimed me. He tells people wherever he goes.”

“Poor you.”

“Yes, poor me.”

They stared again, eager to devise a solution that didn’t involve bastardry and illicit fornication, but Amelia’s base conduct guaranteed that this was the only path available to her.

“Will you help me, Rose?” she implored. “It’s awful of me to ask, but I don’t have anywhere to turn.”

“Amelia, as if you have to plead with me! Of course I’ll help. I’ll keep you safe. I swear it.”

“Thank you.”

“What do you need?”

Amelia sighed with relief. For the first time since she’d overheard Mr. Drake with Mrs. Nipton, she felt that things might eventually get better.

“Here’s what I was thinking,” she said. “Here is my plan.”

* * * *

“Mrs. Nipton, this is a surprise.”

“Why would it be? We have business to conclude.”

Claudia Cummings gave an obnoxious smirk, and Nan yearned to walk over and slap it off her face.

“You and I have business?” Mrs. Cummings frowned. “I can’t imagine why you’d assume so.”

“Can’t you?”

“No. You and I are hardly acquainted. Why would we fraternize?”

Nan had been searching for Mrs. Cummings for days, but the woman had proved to be incredibly elusive. Nan’s frustration had reached extreme levels when, luckily, she’d been riding in her carriage and had glanced out the window. Mrs. Cummings had been exiting a dressmaker’s shop.

Nan had rapped for her driver to stop, had jumped down and marched over to accost the blasted shrew. Mrs. Cummings was a paragon of stellar manners, but Nan didn’t mind making a public scene. The street was busy, and they were surrounded by people, many of whom knew Nan and Mrs. Cummings very well.

“Miss Hubbard has fled London,” Nan said.

“Has she?”

“From the moment we initially discussed the issue, it took me a little over an hour to send her packing.”

“Really? How...interesting.”

“I’m told she’s gone for good.”

“Bully for her.”

“I gave you the ending you requested, and I barely had to lift a finger.”

“Why are you sharing such a bizarre tale?”

“I wrote you,” Nan loudly announced. “I provided the name of the person you should contact at the Stevens brothers’ club. I just went there, and no payment has been tendered by you.”

“A payment to the Stevens brothers?”

“We had a deal Mrs. Cummings. I would ruin Lucas Drake’s betrothal to Amelia Hubbard, and you would pay off my gambling debt.”

Mrs. Cummings’s frown deepened. “First, Mrs. Nipton, I’m completely confused as to what you refer. And second, I would never engage in such unsavory behavior—particularly not with regard to a man who is about to become a member of my family.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No. You’re being absurd.”

“Is that what you’re claiming? That we had no agreement? That you’re such a saint you wouldn’t scheme against Lucas with me?”

“Yes, that’s precisely what I’m claiming. Now then, if you’ll excuse me, I see my carriage. Good day.”

Mrs. Cummings stepped as if she’d stomp off in a huff, and Nan blocked her way. They were the same height, and they glared, Mrs. Cummings trying to intimidate Nan with her superior position and greater age, but Nan couldn’t be intimidated by anyone.

“You lying witch,” Nan accused, her voice carrying and passersby slowing to listen. “We had a deal.”

“We most certainly did not.”

“Can you presume I’ll remain silent about this?”

“You may shout your falsehoods to the heavens,” Mrs. Cummings caustically seethed, “for your reputation precedes you, Mrs. Nipton. You won’t be believed.”

“Won’t I? Are you willing to take that chance?”

“Most definitely.”

“I’ll tell Lucas.”

A flare of panic flashed in Mrs. Cummings’s eyes, but it was quickly quashed. “Speak to Lucas as you wish. Or
don’t
speak with him. It’s of no consequence to me.”

“Seriously? You can’t see the danger to yourself?”

“No, for as I mentioned, we are hardly the pair to be conspirators, and should you spew any stories to Lucas, I’ll be able to counter them. No sane person could envision my conferring with you on any topic, let alone our plotting together.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate me, Mrs. Cummings.”

“I don’t have to. We’re all aware of your shortcomings, Mrs. Nipton. Even Lucas.”

Mrs. Cummings smirked again, then walked on, and Nan fumed as the older woman climbed into her vehicle. As it rumbled away, Nan’s mind was already racing, sorting through the best methods for getting even.

She’d been wary of scheming with Claudia Cummings, but Freddie hated wagering, and he constantly nagged about it. Nan had been desperate to shut him up, and Claudia’s offer had sounded intoxicatingly wonderful.

When Nan had lured Lucas out of Westwood’s mansion, she’d known Miss Hubbard was lurking on the verandah and staring in the window. The poor ninny was so in love with Lucas! It had been almost painful to watch her, but Nan had no conscience and had no duty or loyalty to Miss Hubbard.

It had been simple to prance into the music room, to convince Lucas to leave. But after they’d arrived at Nan’s house, he’d proved that Miss Hubbard’s sentiment was reciprocated—at least to some degree—and for once, she was feeling a tad guilty.

Lucas was a friend, and they’d been close for years. Should Nan have wrecked things for him? She couldn’t decide and, obviously, she shouldn’t have trusted Mrs. Cummings. If Mrs. Cummings expected she could double cross Nan, then Nan could do the same.

She would start by visiting Lucas, perhaps Miss Hubbard too. Nan wasn’t big on confessing her sins, but maybe in this instance, she would. Wasn’t that a novel notion?

She spun away, and as she rounded the corner, she was thrilled to run into Lucas’s brother, Aaron Drake. He was with his snooty fiancée, Priscilla Cummings.

Tit for tat
, Nan mused. Mrs. Cummings had betrayed Nan, and Nan was happy to return the favor.

“Hello, Aaron.” She liked to use his Christian name, because it irked him so much.

“Mrs. Nipton,” he grudgingly responded.

Priscilla ignored Nan and was fit to be tied that Nan had dared to approach them. Nan ignored her too and said to Aaron, “I just spoke with Priscilla’s mother.”

Priscilla huffed, “You don’t have my permission to address me so familiarly.”

“You’ll get over it.” Nan didn’t glance at Priscilla. Her gaze was locked on Aaron. “I plotted with Mrs. Cummings against your brother.”

“What?” Aaron muttered, as Priscilla turned a fascinating shade of puce.

“She wanted to wreck Lucas’s betrothal to Miss Hubbard. She and I hurt Miss Hubbard so she’d leave London and Lucas could be shed of her.”

Aaron scowled, his confusion clear. “What are you talking about?”

“Ask your precious, Priscilla, to explain it,” Nan replied. “Or better yet, ask Claudia. She can tell you all about it. And make certain that harridan knows I won’t be silent until she coughs up the money she owes me.”

Nan had always been a verbal archer, and she deemed it a precisely shot arrow. She smiled a cunning smile and continued on. When Aaron called to her, begging her to clarify and expound, she kept going.

* * * *

“What happened to your eye?”

“I ran into a very angry brother who cold-cocked me before I saw it coming.”

“By any chance, was this the brother of a woman with whom you wrongly trifled?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Rose glared at Lucas, studying his blackened eye, and he shrugged and grinned.

She thought she detested him, but then, whenever she was in his company, she was reluctantly charmed. He was such an unrepentant rogue, and he was never sorry for any of the havoc he wreaked.