The Earl’s Bluestocking Bride (Unconventional Brides #2)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

London,

December 1820

“Are you looking forward to the ball?” Kate asked from where she was sitting cross-legged on Amelia’s bed.

Amelia grimaced. “About as much as I look forward to a visit from my mother,” she muttered under her breath.

Kate frowned. “What was that?”

“I said I can’t wait,” Amelia declared, full of false cheer.

Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Why do I not believe you?”

Amelia chuckled. “Because you’re exceptionally bright.”

Kate flushed. “Am not.”

Amelia fought the urge to insist that she was. Her sister-in-law was very clever about particular things. She knew all about the latest fashions, and she was a talented artist, but she didn’t consider herself to be intelligent because she wasn’t academically inclined.

“My lady, this would be far easier if you’d stay still,” Margaret said, attempting to gather Amelia’s hair into an artful array of curls.

“Sorry, Margaret,” she said, duly chastened.

“Well, I’m excited for you.” The bed squeaked. Perhaps Kate was bouncing on the mattress. “The shade of blue that you and Mother chose is very flattering on you. I do wish you’d agreed to wear a ribbon of the same shade in your hair.”

“I’ve agreed to the ball and the dress. That’s enough.”

“You’re no fun. When I have my season, I shall wear the most exquisite gowns in shades of pink, blue, and green.” Her voice became dreamy. “My shoes will match, and I’ll dance all night.”

“I don’t doubt that. You’ll have no shortage of suitors.”

Kate wasn’t destined to be a wallflower like Amelia. In the mirror, Margaret was smiling.Kate wasn’t the only one excited for her season. The maid was eager to participate too. Amelia wouldn’t be surprised if Kate and Margaret had already been practicing how they would dress her hair for her presentation at court.

Margaret bent over Amelia to slide a few hairpins into place. She winced as one scraped her scalp a little too sharply. Murmuring an apology, Margaret adjusted the pin.

“All done.” She stood back. “Is it to your satisfaction, my lady?”

Amelia examined herself in the mirror. While her hair was dressed more elaborately than she would usually choose, she had to admit that it looked good. “It is.”

“Now, for the dress.” Kate sat upright and clapped excitedly. “I peeked at Mother’s earlier. I like that it’s in a similar style to yours, but yours is clearly more modern and intended for a younger woman.”

Amelia shook her head. “It’s amazing to me that you can tell so much just from looking at them. All I know is that they’re similar without being the same.”

Kate preened.

Margaret withdrew the dress from the wardrobe. Amelia undid her belt and allowed the dressing gown she was wearing to slide off her shoulders and drop to the floor. Her undergarments were already in place.

“If you’ll just step into it like this.” Margaret showed her where to put her feet. Once she was in the center, the maid lifted the dress and held it up. “One arm in here, and the other in there, then turn around.”

Amelia slipped her arms through the holes and turned so Margaret could do up her buttons. She’d almost reached the top when there was a sharp knock at the door, followed by a deep voice.

“May I come in?” It was Andrew.

“Yes,” she called back. “I’m almost ready.”

She heard the door open and glanced over. Her husband looked spectacular in a black tailcoat over a gold-patterned shirt that brought out the flecks of gold in his eyes and a waistcoat that matched the color of her dress.

“Ladies, I’d like a moment of privacy with my wife, please,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I’m nearly done,” Margaret replied.

“I can finish.” He strode over and took Margaret’s place behind Amelia.

She closed her eyes as his fingertips brushed the sensitive skin between her shoulder blades. Based on the rustling of fabric, she assumed that Kate and Margaret were leaving.

“You chose well.” His voice rumbled near her ear.

She tilted her head to give him better access, and he ran his lips up the length of her neck and nipped at the skin just beneath her ear.

“You can’t seduce me before our very first ball,” she reminded him as the door clicked shut.

His chuckle was sinful. “We’re the hosts. It’s not as if it’s going to start without us. But you make a good point.” He drew back, and she shivered, disappointed by the loss of his nearness.

“Is everything ready?” she asked, angling her body toward him.

“Mm-hmm.” He brushed his lips over hers. “But I have a surprise for you.”

A divot formed between her brows. “A surprise?”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a black velvet bag. “These are for you.”

Curious, she took the bag from him and loosened the drawstring. She reached inside and felt metal and polished stone brush against her fingertips. Jewelry of some variety.

She gripped a length of chain and pulled out a necklace, gasping as she revealed at least a dozen blue sapphires in gold settings. The stone intended to sit at the base of the throat was the largest, with the sapphires decreasing in size as they circled around the back of the neck.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, unable to take her eyes off it. She didn’t wear jewelry often because she didn’t like the way it was used to display wealth, but she could tell he’d bought this because he knew she would like it rather than for any other reason.

“There’s more.” His voice was husky.

She dipped her fingers back inside and pulled out a pair of earrings with matching sapphires and intricately spun gold. “These are for me?”

“Yes.” He held out his hand, and she placed the earrings on his palm. “I bought them with the first payout from our new investments. It came through just the other day.”

Gently, he slotted one earring into place and then turned her around to do the same on the other side. She passed him the necklace, and he looped it around her throat and latched it at the back, his touch whispering over the nape of her neck, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

“It’s not a particularly practical purchase,” she whispered.

His estate needed to be reestablished. Should he really have wasted money on an expensive gift for her ?

“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But it’s beautiful, and you deserve it.”

Her heart fluttered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” His forehead rested against hers, and for a moment, they just shared each other’s air. But then a door slammed down the hall, and reality intruded. “We’d best go and greet our guests.”

“Yes, we should.” She linked her arm with his and allowed him to lead her from the bedchamber.

Lady Drake was already waiting at the top of the stairs. Her hair had been done similarly to Amelia’s, and she was radiant in a rich green gown. Her eyes landed on Amelia’s new jewelry and widened.

“Stunning,” she said, the corners of her eyes creasing. “Perfect for you.”

“Thank you, Brigid.”

Together, the three descended the stairs to the foyer. The main entrance was wide open, and a dark-haired figure appeared in the entranceway, shaking rainwater from his hair.

“Ashford.” Andrew beamed and crossed the space between them in several steps to clasp his friend’s hand and drag him into an embrace. “So good of you to come.”

Amelia blinked at him, surprised. “I didn’t realize you would be here, Your Grace.”

The duke gave her his customary half smile. “I wanted to show my support. I’ll be returning home tomorrow.”

She took his hand and held it for a few seconds. “Thank you. It means a lot that you made the effort when your family remains in the country.”

His expression softened. “I’ll be back to them before they even know I’m gone.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Surely a man so devoted to his wife and daughter would receive the same devotion in return.

Lady Drake motioned behind them. “Guests are arriving. We should start a receiving line inside the ballroom.” She patted the duke’s cheek. “It’s good to see you, Vaughan.”

They made their way to the ballroom, where the duke quickly excused himself to the refreshments table. Amelia suspected he was the type of person who might need a couple of glasses of champagne to get through the evening.

She, Andrew, and Lady Drake lined up just inside the ballroom. As the guests began to arrive, they greeted each of them warmly. Amelia had studied the guest list ahead of time to make sure she knew who everyone was. With each person she correctly identified, she congratulated herself.

Everyone they spoke to was polite, but as the crowd grew, she became aware of whispers and stolen glances. One group of debutantes turned away from her as she looked over at them, and the loudest of the three giggled behind her hand.

Amelia’s heart sank, and her shoulders climbed up nearer to her ears.

It wasn’t working.

The ball was supposed to fix things, but all it had achieved was to emphasize the fact that the earl’s family now had money and she was the reason why.

It was more obvious than ever that she’d bought herself a place among them.

Usually, that knowledge wouldn’t bother her, but she hated to be the subject of all this public speculation. It was awful.

“The first song is about to start,” Andrew said, taking her hand. “Dance with me.”

They moved onto the dance floor, and as others clustered around, Andrew drew her closer.

“Ignore them.” His voice wrapped around her like an embrace, but it couldn’t drown out the insidious whispering all around.

“It’s not that easy,” she said.

He twirled her as the first violin began to play, and her skirt flared around her, gleaming like a midnight sky in the light of the chandelier. “Nothing they say can stop us from leaving this week and enjoying Christmas in the country. It’s all irrelevant.”

Amelia didn’t believe that the ton was irrelevant, but she appreciated him trying to calm her, and it did help to picture how they might spend the cool winter nights in front of a cozy fire in Suffolk.

“We can endure this,” Andrew said. “And I promise that I’ll give you the best Christmas ever to make up for it.”

Amelia arched an eyebrow. “You can’t make that promise. You don’t know how good my past Christmases have been.”

“Well, then I’ll do my best.” He held her tighter. “And I won’t give you cause to doubt me again.”

She wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure that she could. He might mean it now, but no one could predict the future.

“Thank you,” she whispered, regardless. The assurance was the best he could offer.

The dance ended, and he escorted her off the dance floor. A movement in the corner of her eye drew her gaze. Lady Drake was hurrying toward them. Unfortunately, before she reached them, Mrs. Hart appeared in front of Amelia.

She did not look happy.

Amelia’s shoulders slumped. She’d always assumed that this ball would be her mother’s moment of triumph, even more so than their wedding. However, it didn’t look as though that was the case.

Mrs. Hart grabbed Amelia’s arm and tugged her away from Andrew. “The gossip hasn’t stopped.” She looked around as if she expected everyone nearby to be listening to them. “You were supposed to fix this. Why should I be expected to deal with such disrespect? It was one thing when we weren’t part of an aristocratic family, but we are now. This shouldn’t be happening. Did you even try to make it stop?”

Amelia stared at her, astounded. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Well, do better,” Mrs. Hart hissed. “This isn’t how I expected to be treated when we joined the aristocracy.”

Amelia glanced over her shoulder and saw her father approaching. She lowered her voice. “Tell me, how did you expect to be treated? You offered up a large dowry. The only reason we’re part of the aristocracy now is because of that.”

Mrs. Hart huffed. “If you were more socially adept, then we wouldn’t be in this situation because you’d have already made powerful friends within the ton.”

The barb struck true. Amelia’s mouth fell open. She didn’t know what to say. How could her mother be so cruel?

“Furthermore,” Mrs. Hart continued, “if you had kept your husband satisfied—”

“That’s quite enough,” Mr. Hart interrupted, taking his wife by the arm. “This is not the place to have this conversation.”

Amelia’s eyes stung. She felt as if she’d been slapped. Her mother was blaming this on her. Blatantly telling her she wasn’t good enough.

For years, she’d accepted this treatment. But she didn’t have to now.

“I don’t think this is a conversation that needs to be had at all,” she said, looking around to see where Andrew had gotten to. Why wasn’t he here with her?

She met her father’s eyes, hating the knowledge that he could tell she was hurting but still allowed her mother to speak to her in such a way. After all, he hadn’t said Mrs. Hart shouldn’t say those things to Amelia, simply that the conversation ought to occur elsewhere.

Disappointed, she turned her back and stalked away.

She didn’t know where she was going, only that she needed space. Deciding to get a drink and some fresh air, she made a beeline for the refreshments table. But before she reached it, she walked straight into Miss Wentham.

“Hello, Countess.” Miss Wentham smirked. “It seems your first ball is a raging success. Although it’s possible that has as much to do with the excellent gossip as it does your abilities as a hostess.”

“What do you want?” Amelia asked. “I have no patience for games tonight.”

Perhaps she shouldn’t be so blunt with one of their guests, but Miss Wentham had never treated her with anything other than disdain, and she was tired of trying to be the better person.

Miss Wentham’s smile grew. “I did warn you this would happen. I told you that the earl only wanted your money.”

Amelia scowled. “Did it ever occur to you that I already knew that? I’m not quite as foolish as some people would like to believe.”

Miss Wentham’s brow furrowed. She opened her mouth, as if about to speak, but before she could, Amelia walked away.

All she wanted right now was to be alone. She had always known she didn’t belong among the ton, but if she had ever deluded herself into thinking otherwise, this evening had provided all the proof she needed.

She wasn’t one of them.

She didn’t even think she wanted to be one of them.

As she hurried toward the balcony, her breath came in shallow gasps. Her throat was tight with emotion, and tears stung her eyes. She kept her head down and pushed past the guests .

Just as she reached the door, a murmur rippled through the crowd. Confused, she turned. The Duke of Ashford stood in front of her, blocking her view.

“Ignore them,” he said. “They’re all vultures. They mean nothing.”

The murmur grew louder. Amelia tried to look around him.

“What the devil is she doing here?” The voice was Lady Drake’s.

Amelia stretched onto her toes and peered toward the entrance, but immediately wished she hadn’t. Heat rose up the back of her neck, and her blood rushed in her ears.

There, standing in the doorway, was Miss Giles.