WANTON (30 page)

Lucas glared at Aaron, then marched by him and over to the woman, being unsettled to discover it was Nan. Since that last night in her bedchamber, he hadn’t seen her, and Aaron despised her, so Lucas couldn’t imagine why they’d be together.

“Why are you in here with Aaron?” Lucas asked.

She didn’t reply, and Aaron scowled at her.

“You will admit to every one of your offenses,” Aaron ordered. “Get on with it.”

Nan nodded at Aaron, but still didn’t seem able to speak.

“Mrs. Nipton!” Aaron snapped.

Ultimately, she murmured, “I owe you an apology, Lucas.”

“What for?”

“Ah...I did you a bad turn.”

“In what way?”

“First, I need you to understand what occurred. There was quite a bit of money involved and I—”

Aaron cut her off. “We won’t listen to any excuses from you. Just state the facts.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s best.” She wrung her hands and fiddled with the fabric of her dress. “I schemed against you with Claudia Cummings.”

“How?”

“After your waltz with Miss Hubbard—”

“That bloody waltz!” Lucas griped. “Can’t all of you get over it?”

“Yes, well, after you danced with Miss Hubbard, Claudia was afraid you might marry her.”

“So what? Why would Claudia care about that?”

“She didn’t want Miss Hubbard to join your family,” Nan explained. “She felt Miss Hubbard was too far beneath you.”

“I see,” Lucas muttered, and he really, really did.

Claudia was exactly like his father, like Lucas’s grandfather. They were stuffy, pretentious snobs, and their pompous attitudes had been drilled into Aaron. It was the reason Lucas was so disappointed in Aaron. Lucas refused to concern himself with station or rank, a sentiment that enraged the members of his father’s social circle.

Amelia Hubbard could never be lofty enough for Claudia Cummings.

“What was your plan with Claudia?” Lucas asked. “What harm was inflicted on Miss Hubbard?”

“The night in Westwood’s music room...”

Nan couldn’t continue, and Lucas pressed, “I remember it clearly, Nan. Tell me what you did.”

“Miss Hubbard was out on the verandah, peeking in the window. I figured I could drag you off while she watched.” She glanced away, actually looking ashamed for once. “I knew I could wound her and break her heart.”

“You definitely succeeded.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Lucas chided.

Aaron interjected, “Let’s review the terms of your agreement with Claudia.”

“I have a bit of a gambling debt with the Stevens brothers,” Nan mumbled.

This was not news to Lucas. He’d helped her accumulate a lot of it.

“I’m aware of your gambling debts, Nan.”

“Mrs. Cummings said she’d pay it off if I made Miss Hubbard go away.”

“That’s quite a bribe,” Lucas mused.

“Yes, but she didn’t follow through. She’s insisting now that we had no deal.”

Lucas scoffed. “You’re confessing because you were double-crossed?”

“Yes.”

“And here I was hoping you’d had a burst of conscience.”

“My conscience is eating away at me too,” she claimed.

“Is it?”

“Yes. You’ve always been a friend to me, and I feel awful about you—and Miss Hubbard.”

“Well, thank you for that—I guess—except it’s a little too late for an apology.”

“Why?”

“Because of your shenanigans, Miss Hubbard wouldn’t have me for a husband if I was the last man on Earth.”

“Oh.” Nan seemed a tad regretful, but with her, it would only be a very tiny thimble of regret.

“Is there anything you haven’t mentioned?” Aaron asked her.

“I don’t believe so.”

“Then you’re excused,” Aaron said as if she was a servant.

She stood and approached Lucas, and she stopped in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” she claimed again.

“I heard you the first time.”

“I wish I could make it up to you.”

“I wish you could too, but please go away. I need to discuss this with my brother.”

“All right.”

She left, and he and Aaron huddled in the quiet until she’d shut the door and her footsteps faded down the hall.

“How did you find out about this?” Lucas inquired.

“I bumped into Mrs. Nipton the other day on the street. She’d just quarreled with Claudia, so she was in a temper. She babbled the whole story to me. Initially, I thought she was spouting drivel, but then, when I learned of Miss Hubbard’s departure, I figured it was probably true.”

“Have you talked to Claudia?”

“I can’t until I’ve calmed down. I’m too afraid I might wring her scrawny neck.”

“Give it an extra tight squeeze for me, will you?”

“I will.”

They stared and stared, a thousand comments swirling between them, but they couldn’t manage to voice them aloud.

Finally, Aaron asked, “What will you do now?”

“I’ll keep searching for Amelia, but even if I locate her, I’m not sure she’ll speak to me.”

“You could take Mrs. Nipton to her. You could have her confess directly to Miss Hubbard. She might listen to you that way.”

“I doubt it. If I strolled into a room with Nan by my side, Amelia Hubbard would murder me.”

“If her brother doesn’t kill you first.”

“You heard about that?”

“Yes, I heard.”

“Well, he’ll have to find me before he can kill me.”

“How’s your eye?”

“Nearly healed.”

Lucas turned to go, and Aaron inquired, “Where will you be?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trolling all the balls looking for her, but I don’t think she’s in London. I don’t think her brother is either. I’m hoping he took her somewhere safe.”

“I hope so too.”

“I’ll spend another day or two searching, but then, I’m off to Summerfield for James’s wedding.”

“He’s really getting married, is he?”

“He really is.”

“I guess matrimony can happen to any man,” Aaron sagely reflected.

“I guess so. How about you? Will you still wed Priscilla after all this nonsense with Claudia? How could you bear to have her for a mother-in-law?”

“I have some decisions to make.” Aaron shrugged. “As I said, I’m too angry to deal with this now. I may ride to Fox Run for an extended visit.” Fox Run was Aaron’s country estate. “I always feel better after I’ve been there awhile.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll write to you there after the ceremony. I’ll let you know where I’ll be.”

“Father told me you might travel to India.”

“I might. If I can’t fix things with Amelia, there’s no reason for me to stay in England.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“You’re the only one in the kingdom who holds that opinion.”

“If you remain in London, you’ll eventually run Miss Hubbard to ground. You could still wind up with a wife. It might tame you.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Lucas said, but he grinned.

To his consternation, there was an enormous amount of charged emotion in the air, and he was unnerved by it. He was afraid to open his mouth, afraid of all the maudlin poppycock that might spew out.

He put two fingers to his forehead and gave his brother a jaunty salute, then he sauntered off. After retrieving his coat, he walked out into the night. It was beginning to rain, sprinkles wetting the cobbles, casting the streetlamps in a dim glow that matched his melancholy mood.

At loose ends, he morosely dawdled, wondering what was next for him. As he started down the stairs, he remembered James’s letter was in his pocket. He went back into the lighted foyer to read it.

He flicked at the seal, a brow rising as he scanned the short note.

Rose lied to you. Miss Hubbard is hiding here at Summerfield. I think you need to marry her, or my wife will never stop harping about it. Have mercy on me. If you’re willing, come to my wedding, and I’ll help you out of this mess
.

“Rose, you deceptive devil,” Lucas murmured, and he chuckled.

She seemed so straightlaced that he hadn’t thought her capable of duplicity, but then, she
was
a Drake—despite how she tried to pretend she wasn’t. Drake blood coursed through her veins, and Lucas couldn’t wait to happily inform her that being a Drake rendered a person fully proficient at all sorts of dishonesty.

But he’d tell her—in no uncertain terms—after he’d settled matters with Amelia. Amelia would listen to Lucas, and she would forgive him. He wouldn’t consider any other conclusion.

Suddenly, he felt better than he had in a very long while. He marched out into the dark night again, and this time, he didn’t mind the rain at all.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Amelia strolled down the lane toward Summerfield Manor. She never grew tired of seeing the stately mansion through the trees. It had proved a relaxing haven where she could assess her options and recover from her ordeal.

With each passing day, her London escapade faded further into the background, and try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what had possessed her to flirt and flaunt herself.

She was just an ordinary, modest woman. Despite the tendencies of her parents, she’d never had an inclination for luxury or extravagance. She’d simply craved a quiet and stable life, so the whole experience made her wonder if she hadn’t gone temporarily mad.

Perhaps there had been something in the air or water in the city that had rendered her insane. For of a certainty, since she’d traveled to Summerfield, her genuine character was gradually reasserting itself.

“Never again,” she murmured.

She’d had her London adventure, had recklessly and hedonistically frolicked and played, and she’d learned too many hard lessons. If she occasionally reminisced about Lucas Drake, it was in a detached, almost scientific way as she struggled to comprehend her misdeeds with him.

Yes, he could be a charming rogue, so she understood why an innocent, sheltered female such as herself would have been tempted. But he also possessed every despicable trait she loathed, and she couldn’t fathom why she’d been so gullible and easily swayed.

Temporary madness
, she mused again, but it was slowly receding, her old, reliable self returning. She was wiser now. Should another scoundrel ever cross her path, she’d run far and fast in the opposite direction.

Rose had devised the perfect arrangement. Amelia was hiding in a bedchamber in an isolated wing of the mansion. Once the wedding was over, and Rose had more time to focus, they’d look for a new situation for Amelia.

She was hoping her scare about a pregnancy would be just that: a scare. She wanted to teach again, at a good school where she could be useful and busy, where activity and chores would keep her mind off her many lapses. She had to stop tormenting herself! She’d misbehaved, but it was over, and she knew better. Didn’t she?

As she rounded a corner, she glanced up ahead, and a man was standing in the grass. She couldn’t get to the house without walking by him, and she missed her step and stumbled. For a quick second, she thought it was Lucas Drake, but it couldn’t be. Rose had sworn he wouldn’t attend the wedding. Rose wouldn’t...lie. Would she?

He spun toward her, and her heart literally skipped a beat.

“Hello, Amelia,” Mr. Drake murmured.

He was more handsome than she recalled. His vibrant eyes were more blue, his blond hair longer than it had been and in need of a trim. He’d been injured, the last traces of a bruise clearly visible on his cheek. She studied him, and for a wild, crazed instant, she was so glad to see him that she nearly started to weep.

You came for me! You came for me!
she yearned to shout, but as the words riveted her, a mental medley of ghastly scenes surged to the fore. She recollected his low character, his many salacious affairs. She recollected the night of their glorious waltz when he’d trotted off with Mrs. Nipton.

Since that horrid moment, she’d spent every minute trying to forget the infamy, trying to move beyond her transgressions and shame.

How dare he show up at Summerfield! How dare he assume he’d be welcome!

“What are you doing here?” she seethed.

“We have to talk.”

“Talk?” She laughed a strangled laugh that made her sound deranged. “I’d rather have a torturer cut out my tongue than talk to you.”

She dashed by him, and though he reached out to grab her, she skirted away and kept on down the garden path, up onto the verandah, then into the rear parlor.

Rose was just entering the room, and on observing Amelia’s disordered state, she asked, “Amelia, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Lucas Drake is outside!”

“Is he?”

“He was waiting for me in the park. He knew right where I was.”

“My goodness. Imagine that.” Rose flushed, providing ample proof that she was fully aware he’d arrived.

“You told him I was here!”

Rose hemmed and hawed, then admitted, “It was James, actually.”

“I trusted you.”

“I’m sorry. James and I thought you should speak with him.”

“Oh, Rose, how could you?”

Feeling furious and aggrieved, she rushed out to the hall and headed for the safety of her bedchamber.

She’d viewed Summerfield as a refuge where she could rest and regroup while she made plans for herself. If Rose would betray her, how could Amelia claim true friendship with anyone?

Continuing on, she wound up the staircases and hurried down the corridors. She was so frantically upset that she got lost twice, and as she finally slipped inside her suite, her body ached as if she’d been pummeled by a hundred fists.

She was raging and hurt and perplexed, so she wasn’t paying attention.

“Hello, Amelia,” Mr. Drake said again, this time from over in the corner.

At hearing his voice—so unexpected and so close by—she leapt with fright. He was sitting in a chair, his legs stretched out as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“You can’t be in here!”

“I told you we should talk.”

“And I was very clear that I’d rather jump off a cliff.”

“Yes, you were very clear.”

“How did you manage to get in here before me?”

“I spent much of my childhood in this house. I know all its secret stairwells.”

“Wonderful,” she fumed. “So I suppose you think you’ll be sneaking in every two seconds.”