Page 43 of War of the Wedding Wagers
He released her at the threshold to the drawing room and she immediately glided over to Lady Wentworth’s side, taking up her fan and beginning a lively chatter that Sir Frederick decided, after a shrewd look, was nothing more than a ruse. Yes, Miss Fairchild was definitely highly discomposed, and he was the reason.
It shouldn’t have delighted him so much, but there it was. The young woman he’d thought so distant and haughty had veins filled with quicksilver…and a mouth as soft as a rose petal.
Yes, he couldn’t wait to plunder those beautiful lips all over again.
He’d just have to find another way to breach her defenses, for she was not going to fall into his arms after a bracing ride again, he realized. She’d been frightened by her susceptibility tohim and she planned to withdraw completely and ensure that no future opportunity exposed her to such risk.
Well, Sir Frederick could be far more creative than she gave him credit, he thought with a little thrill of anticipation before Lord Pendleton claimed his attention.
Chapter Twenty
“Charades?” repeated Amelia.“I’m really not very good at playacting,” she went on. “I think I should excuse myself.”
“My dear, don’t set a bad example for the more shy young ladies here. The young ones who are so eager in their hearts to step up in front of the company to have a bit of fun don’t have your confidence.” Lady Townsend patted Amelia’s arm and indicated the Miss Ps in the corner who, Amelia thought, hardly answered to her example. They were the most boisterous debutantes she could remember having met. “And it’s not because you’re shy and lacking in confidence that you demur, is it? So, do say you’ll enter into the spirit of Lady Pendleton’s entertainment this evening? It would be such a gracious thing to do.”
How could Amelia respond to such a call upon her good nature, much less obligations, as a guest without anything other than a reluctant nod and a forced smile? Oh, but she did hate charades with all that silly pretense and play-acting. Play-acting which was really barely respectable but at which she was deplorable. She knew she was.
“Well, that is wonderful, Miss Fairchild,” said Lady Townsend. “Lady Pendleton will approach those who have agreed and let them know the word or phrase that they will mime for the rest of us to guess. I shall do my part, too, so you’re in good company.”
The older woman gave a shiver of something Amelia couldn’t quite identify. Surely it couldn’t be anticipation for all Amelia felt was dull dread.
A few minutes later, a tap on the shoulder heralded the call to action.
“Heartbreak.”
“Heartbreak?” Amelia stared uncomprehendingly at Lady Pendleton, who was already moving forward towards the Miss Ps who were in a group that included Caroline, a little distance away.
“Your word,” Lady Pendleton said over her shoulder as if she were an imbecile.
Amelia closed her eyes. She was going to have to stand in front of everyone and act out such a word? She felt sick.
Normally so confident, she was also used to being allowed to stay in the background and not be called upon to offer anything in the way of opinion or entertainment. Yes, she played the piano, as most well brought up young ladies did, but whenever she was invited to perform, she demurred to any of the more eager young ladies wishing to draw attention to their talents.
“You’re looking a little pale, Miss Fairchild. And alone.”
Sir Frederick was hovering nearby, not exactly at her side but looking very ready to bear her company with the merest encouragement.
With an effort, Amelia schooled her features into polite disinterest. She had to remember that courting Sir Frederick made him unavailable to anyone else. Anyone with the credentials that effectively earned Amelia the reprieve from society she so craved.
So while it would have been very pleasant to have whiled away a little time with Sir Frederick who looked all too ready to join her and, perhaps, bolster her confidence, she instead inclined her head and replied, “Lady Pendleton has just toldme the word I am to enact in charades and it has confirmed my detestation of the game. But I have promised, so I will take myself off now and prepare myself.”
“Perhaps I can assist?”
Amelia shook her head. “No, no, but I thank you all the same. You can encourage me by trying to guess at my deplorable efforts to mime the word Lady Pendleton has given me.”
Sir Frederick chuckled. “Clearly it is not a word that fills you with the confidence to enact.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “I truly think she gave it to me to vex me because I was so reluctant to enter into what she considers fun and games.”
“You don’t enjoy this kind of society, Miss Fairchild?” He indicated the room with a sweep of his arms. The young Miss Ps were still giggling in the corner. Clearly, they were having a most enjoyable time. Lady Pendleton held court in another corner while Ladies Townsend and Pendleton, and Lord Thornton, suddenly burst into laughter.
Amelia swiveled slowly, pressing her lips together before she agreed reluctantly, “Everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves, I grant you that.”
“Except you? Why is that, Miss Fairchild? You do not strike me as being a killjoy sour puss.” His lips curved up, and he added with clear reference to earlier, “Why, you entered into the sport of a delightful afternoon’s riding with great spirit and, indeed, as if you were enjoying yourself very much.”
“Sir Frederick! I beg you!” Amelia exclaimed, mortified. “I don’t know what came over me except that you are clearly very practiced at making ladies like me forget themselves and surely we are both of an age to accept that life has to be more serious than that when it comes to matters of such importance.”
She knew she’d let her words run away from her when she saw his faint frown and the way he stilled before he responded. “Matters of such importance being…?” he prompted.
