Page 62 of War of the Wedding Wagers
“I…” The words stuck in her throat as she realized how close they were standing. “That is, Henry just showed me something—a letter—” Thunder crashed directly overhead, making her jump.
“Come inside before you’re soaked through.” He guided her into the inner room, his hand warm at the small of her back. “Though I confess, I’m glad of the interruption. I came early specifically to head off Mrs. Perry’s advances.”
“Oh?” Amelia tried to sound disinterested as she watched him close the heavy door against the storm. “I wouldn’t wish to interrupt any… private meetings.”
His laugh was unexpected. “The only private meeting I wish for is this one.” He turned to face her, his eyes intense in the dim light. “Now, what’s this about a letter? I thought we’d had enough excitement after this morning’s visit to the church.”
But before Amelia could respond, a gust of wind rattled the rotunda’s windows, making the candle flames dance wildly in their sconces. The storm-darkened room felt suddenly intimate, almost too intimate, as Sir Frederick moved closer.
“Before you tell me anything, there’s something I need to say.” His voice was low, urgent. “I’ve been ruminating while waiting out the storm. I think it’s fair to say that while you and I deal well together, you nevertheless keep me at a distance. And I know why. You alluded to it this morning, and you made clear that your Thomas was quick to attribute to me certain injustices. Others, I accept. You think me a libertine, Miss Fairchild, and perhaps once I was. But that affair with Lady Eldredge—it wasn’t what you imagine.”
Amelia’s heart beat faster. “I don’t need explanations—”
“But you do.” His hand found hers in the dim light. “I was young, newly returned from war with wounds both visible andhidden. She offered comfort when I most needed it, though I discovered too late it was false comfort.”
“I didn’t follow every detail of the scandal…” Amelia looked away, glancing up when he laughed softly.
“Only some of them?” he asked. “You see, I had admired you greatly when we first met at the Bath Assembly Ball. I did not know you already had an admirer in Thomas Blackheath—”
“Nothing had been formalized,” Amelia said. “I knew him only a little. And then we were introduced, and we spoke on so many shared matters of interest. I was greatly looking forward to seeing you at the Assembly Rooms but you weren’t there—”
“I was called away.” He shrugged. “On His Majesty’s Business. At the time, the matter was of immense urgency. I spent a week in France, behind enemy lines, suffered an injury—” He indicated his thigh. “—and on my return, I met Lady Eldredge.”
“Oh!”
Sir Frederick shook his head. “No, it’s not what you think. We were introduced at Madame Belvoir’s Salon and merely spoke. At the time, I couldn’t wait to return to Bath to see you.” He smiled. “It’s the truth.”
Amelia’s eyes widened, and she put a hand to her lips. “When I didn’t see you at the Assembly Rooms, Thomas claimed me for almost every dance, even though it wasn’t respectable.” She lowered her eyes. “He laughed as he recounted that he’d overheard you telling Lord Spade that while you’d enjoyed Miss Fairchild’s company—as he phrased it—you’d never settle down with a bluestocking. That you were in the market for vivacious blondes who were up for a bit of fun rather than risking a potentially dangerous liaison with someone who intended anything more serious?”
Sir Frederick put both hands on her shoulders and his face closer to hers. “He said that?” he asked softly.
Amelia nodded.
“Then he lied.”
Amelia swallowed, waiting for him to break the silence. But it seemed he was too caught up in his own thoughts, so she prompted, “And Lady Eldredge?”
Returning his attention to her, Sir Frederick’s smile was rueful. “I rebounded into her arms after I found you so distant when I did finally return to the Assembly Rooms. By this stage, Thomas Blackheath had well and truly sunk his hooks into you, and before a few days were past, the pair of you were engaged.” He shrugged. “I buried my disappointment and accepted I’d never see you again, while also deciding that, as my reputation couldn’t sink lower, and I’d lost the woman I believed I could truly love, why try to salvage it? But I’m not that man anymore.” His fingers tightened on hers.
“These past days with you—seeing how you value truth and honor above all else—it’s made me want to be worthy of your good opinion.”
Amelia’s carefully constructed defenses began to crumble while his words chased themselves around her head.
The woman I believed I could truly love…
He loved her? Then he’d surely kiss her now.
But wait. He was speaking again, and she hadn’t responded. Maybe he’d been waiting for something from her which she’d failed to deliver.
He squeezed her shoulder. “But you came here to tell me something about a letter Henry had shown you.”
Caught between frustration at the way he’d closed the door on her ability to tell him what was in her heart and the urgent need to pass on her disturbing news regarding Mr. Greene, Amelia said, “Henry showed me a letter written by Mr. Greene. It was in the library beneath a pile of books and clearly he’d been disturbed while writing it to his cousin. But he claims he canprove he’s Pernilla’s descendant. That she didn’t die but married William and lived.” Tensely, she watched his face. “I was fearful that was the truth of it. That Pernilla didn’t die but instead married and had children. But if that is in fact the reason Mr. Greene is here at all—because he has proof that he’s descended from Pernilla, then that changes everything. Lady Pendleton, Albert, the estate…”
“The man’s a bounder and on the verge of bankruptcy,” Sir Frederick said grimly. “Which makes me wonder—could Greene be manufacturing this claim? A man in his desperate financial straits might grasp at any chance.”
“That’s what troubles me.” Amelia moved closer, drawn by his warmth, his steadiness, and the fact he didn’t even seem to realize his arms were about her shoulders in a gesture far more intimate than warranted under the circumstances.
Or was it?
