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

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Andrew stared at Florence, unable to believe her audacity. She sashayed into the room, her head held high. If he didn’t hate her so much in this moment, he might admire her gumption, but as it was, she could only be here for one reason.

To hurt him and humiliate Amelia.

Amelia.

He looked around for his wife, growing panicked when he didn’t immediately find her. Her mother had snatched her away earlier, but he’d seen Mrs. Hart since then, so he knew they weren’t still together.

She hadn’t left, had she?

He gritted his teeth. He shouldn’t have let Mrs. Hart speak to her in private. He should have known better. But at least if she wasn’t here, she wouldn’t have to witness this in person.

Unfortunately, it was at that moment he spotted her, standing near the balcony doors with Ashford and his mother.

Damn.

He hesitated, torn between whether to go to Amelia or intercept Florence. He glanced from one woman to the other.

Amelia wasn’t alone. She had support.

Would he like to go to her right now? Yes. But perhaps the best thing to do would be to get rid of the person causing her distress.

So thinking, he cut a line through the assembled guests toward Florence. Her eyes met his, and she smirked.

“All of this fuss for me?” she asked.

“You weren’t invited,” he told her coldly. “Why are you here?”

She laughed. “Why would I miss all the fun?”

“You think this is fun?” he demanded, heat simmering in his gut. “Distressing innocent women is fun for you?”

She rolled her eyes. “There is no need for your righteous indignation. I gave you a choice. You chose. Your wife should have known to expect this when she married you. If she didn’t, that’s her lookout.”

Noticing that they were drawing attention, Andrew took her by the arm.

“Come with me. Let’s talk in private.”

“I am always happy to be in private with you,” she cooed, pursing her lips suggestively.

“Keep your hands to yourself.” He tugged her back out of the ballroom and down the corridor to his office.

She giggled. “So eager to get me all alone.”

“What made you think you would be welcome here?” he asked, releasing her as though she’d burned him.

She shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve always been welcome around you before.”

He crossed his arms. “That time has passed. You’re making a spectacle of yourself—and of me.”

“The attention doesn’t bother me,” she said, nothing but truth in her tone.

“I know.” Attention never had bothered her. Whether positive or negative, she thrived on it. “And if it were only us affected, that would be one thing. But it’s not. You’ve carried through on your threat. It’s over. I won’t accept you doing anything else to upset my wife.”

She sighed. “You’re no fun these days. So serious all the time. So concerned about that mousey wife of yours. Why don’t you just forget her for a little while and dance with me?”

“If you think I’m dancing with you, you’re crazy.”

Footsteps sounded outside, and they both turned toward the office doorway. Amelia appeared in the frame with Ashford at her back.

Andrew’s chest squeezed. This was the first time Amelia had come face-to-face with Florence since finding out who she was to him. He instinctively reached for her, wanting to shield her from any pain or discomfort the situation might cause her, but she was too far away.

“I was sending her away,” he said. “There’s nothing happening here that you need to worry about.”

But Amelia didn’t seem insecure or cowed as he might have expected. Instead, she squared her shoulders and glared at Florence.

“You did not receive an invitation to this ball,” she told his former mistress. “It’s time for you to leave.”

Florence raised her chin and stared Amelia down. “It’s for Andrew to say whether I have to leave, not you.”

He rolled his eyes. As they all knew, he’d been in the process of doing that exact thing when Amelia and Ashford had appeared.

Still, Amelia didn’t shrink or waver. She looked down her nose at Florence. “Actually, it’s not solely for Andrew to say. This is my home too. Considering the rumors you’ve spread, you’re not welcome at any Longley property, including this one. Neither of us want to see your face again. ”

Florence sputtered and turned to Andrew. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

Andrew moved over to stand beside Amelia. “Yes,” he said simply. “I am.”

Pride swelled in his chest. He took his wife’s hand. She was strong, and he admired the hell out of her. Not only had she refused to let her insecurities get the better of her, but she was finally standing up for herself and fighting for what she wanted and deserved.

“But all I did was tell the truth,” Florence protested, her hands on her hips.

“No,” Amelia said. “You told the truth at the Benton ball, and while I think that was petty of you, I can understand why you did it. You lost Andrew. I know how upset I’d be if I lost him. But when you came here today, it wasn’t about spreading the truth. It was to create a scene. There’s no excuse for that. Now leave, or I’ll have the duke escort you out.”

One side of Florence’s mouth hitched up, and cruel amusement filled her eyes. “The duke doesn’t take orders from you.”

“Perhaps not,” Ashford agreed. “But I consider the countess to be a close friend, so I’m going to support my friend by escorting you to the door.”

He brushed past Amelia and stopped beside Florence, gesturing for her to leave. When she didn’t move, he began to reach for her, but she quickly darted out of the way.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat.

She shoved past them, jostling Andrew and stepping on Amelia’s skirt, but she kept walking, so he didn’t comment on it, simply relieved to see the back of her. Ashford followed close behind, no doubt to ensure she actually left the property.

Andrew guided Amelia fully inside the office and closed the door. She was holding herself rigid, as if she wasn’t sure how he was going to react to her treatment of Florence.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I’m so sorry you were subjected to that. I never expected that she would have the audacity to turn up at our ball.”

“I know you didn’t.”

He couldn’t quite decipher her tone. She didn’t sound upset, necessarily, but her voice was loaded with emotion.

“Perhaps it was for the best,” she continued, extracting her hand from his. “We had to face each other at some point, and now, she will no longer view me as someone she can walk all over.”

He couldn’t believe how calm she was. “I suppose that’s certainly true.”

“Besides.” A small smile quirked her lips. “I got to look my demons in the eye and come out on top. But you’d better not put me through anything like this again. I deserve better.”

“Better?” He shook his head. “No. You deserve everything.”

And he would make sure she got it.

He drew her into his arms, moving slowly and giving her time to resist if she didn’t want him. She melted against his chest, tilting her face toward his. He kissed her.

At first, it was the lightest brushing of lips, but then a delicious whimper escaped her, and she pressed closer, deepening the kiss.

He hummed his approval and cupped her bottom, wishing he could feel more of her through the fabric of her skirt. He flicked his tongue along the seam of her mouth, tasting the faintest hint of champagne, perhaps from her drink before the ball had begun. Her tongue met his, and they entwined, sliding sensuously against each other.

His hand curved around the side of her neck. The skin was smooth as satin beneath his fingers. He tilted her head back, and her lips left his. Her eyes fluttered open, the blue of them like pools he could swim in. They were slightly glazed, hazy with lust. The most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

“How did I get so lucky?” he asked, grazing the pad of his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone.

She flushed. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

She wasn’t, but he knew it would take time and patience to prove that to her. He kissed her again, this time pouring his heart and soul into it, holding nothing back. She allowed him to drag her into a maelstrom of desire. Eventually, she pulled away.

“Our ball is still going just down the hall,” she said. “We should get back to our guests.”

Andrew stood firm. “I don’t care about that. I don’t care about most of the people here. Other than my family, and Ashford, they can go to hell for all I care.”

She laughed but covered it quickly. “Even my parents?”

“Especially your parents.” He kissed her forehead. “I appreciate that your father is helping me regrow my fortune, but he hasn’t done right by you. He seems to view life as some kind of challenge for you to overcome, and perhaps that’s made you stronger, but it’s a father’s job to be there when his daughter needs him, and he’s let you down.”

Her eyes were wide. “And my mother?”

He snorted. “Come, Amelia. You see the same thing I do when it comes to her. Her priorities are skewed. You should be more important than gossip, rumor, or social status. You’re her daughter. A talented, intelligent, kind woman. You said earlier that you deserve better, and you really, really do.”

She blinked rapidly, her eyes sparkling. “When we married, I never expected you to be like this. You’ve given me so much more than I ever imagined.”

He gazed down at her, letting the full force of his affection shine through. “You are the one who has given me everything. I love you, Amelia. So much more than I ever knew was possible. My heart overflows with it. I feel that love with every breath I take. I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks, but I need you to believe me.”

“Y-you love me?” she stammered. “Really?”

“I do.” He held her hands in his. “More than anything.”

She seemed stunned. “But… you never gave me any sign.”

He grimaced. “It’s come to my attention that despite our best efforts, you and I aren’t always fantastic at communicating our feelings. I’m telling you now so there will be no misunderstandings. I love you, Amelia Drake. My heart beats for you. I won’t say that I’m glad my family lost almost everything, but I’m ecstatic that that horrible situation brought me to you.”

His heart raced frantically. Butterflies fluttered in his gut. He hadn’t failed to notice that Amelia had yet to reciprocate his declaration. Honestly, she hadn’t really said anything.

Did she feel the same?

He was sure she felt something. But maybe it was affection or friendship rather than the all-consuming love he felt for her.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his tone pleading. “Say something.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks colored. The corners of her lips tipped up. “I’m sorry, I….”

“Yes?”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “It’s so strange that we married for such unromantic reasons, and now you love me. You love me. I almost can’t believe it. Certainly, no one else will.”

“Then sod them all,” Andrew said. “All that matters is that you believe me. Do you?”