Lady Amelia's Secret Lover Read online

  “I merely lent my assistance, my expertise, as it were, to my only brother when he needed it most.”

  “When I was trying to win her hand you took my place.”

  “Only because you needed my help. If I recall, your feelings for Amelia had reduced you to little more than a blithering idiot.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” Although in truth it had been nearly that bad. Even from the vantage point of six years, Robert still had no idea what Amelia had done to him. Certainly she was the only woman he had ever fallen in love with, and he had known from the moment he’d met her that she was the one for him. That certainty perhaps—the realization of her importance to his very existence—was what had indeed sapped his confidence and made him, at least in the beginning, if not actually a blithering idiot, then something very much like one. If it hadn’t been for his brother smoothing the way for him, saying all the words Robert couldn’t quite get out, Robert wasn’t sure he would have won her hand or her heart. After all, he hadn’t been the only man interested in Amelia Bannister.

  “Besides, I only impersonated you a mere four times.” Harry shrugged. “Hardly worth mentioning.”

  “Four?” Robert frowned. “I only recall three.”

  “Four, three, it scarcely matters now. It was six years ago.”

  “Even so—”

  “Furthermore, it has been my experience…” Harry glanced at his brother. “And for the sake of argument I suggest you agree that I am far better acquainted with the dissatisfactions of married women than you are.”

  The muscles of Robert’s jaw tightened with impatience. Normally his brother’s amorous adventures were, at best, amusing, and, at worst, a source of exasperation and potential scandal. At this particular moment and given the personal nature of the situation at hand, Harry’s expertise was every bit as annoying as it was necessary. “Go on.”

  “As I was saying, it’s been my experience that women who discover they have married the wrong man do not need six years to reach that conclusion,” Harry said firmly.

  “Then the fault lies with me.”

  Amusement curved the corners of his brother’s mouth. “Probably.”

  “What am I going to do?” An awful, helpless ache seemed to have taken up permanent residence within him. The sort of pain one surely felt when struck by the realization that loss was imminent and there was nothing to be done about it.

  “Oh no.” Harry shook his head, and Robert had the distinct impression his brother would have backed away from him if he’d been standing. “While I admit to a certain skill in the handling of dissatisfied wives, I have no idea how to—”

  “Come now, surely you of all people—”

  “Pay attention to her,” Harry said abruptly. “Show her how much you care about her.”

  “She already knows that.” Robert tried and failed to hide the defensive note in his voice.

  “If she does, she’s forgotten. It’s no doubt become lost in all that contentment and comfort between you. She needs to know that you are more than merely content. That you cannot live without her.”

  Robert stared. “I thought that was obvious.”

  Harry shrugged. “Women who are confident of their husband’s affections rarely announce that that are seeking a lover.”

  “What if she’s discovered she can live without me?” A cold hand squeezed his heart at the very thought of his life without Amelia in it. “I can’t live without her, Harry. She’s part of my life, part of me. Of what makes me who I am.”

  “Tell her, not me.”

  “I’ve never been good at telling her of my feelings. It’s always been easier to talk to her about politics or the current state of affairs or art or music. But this…” He shook his head. “What if telling her isn’t enough?” Robert paced the width of the office and tried to ignore a sense of panic that had threatened since Amelia’s announcement this morning. He drew a calming breath. All was not yet lost. “It does seem to me, however, the first thing I need to tell her, again, is that I do not have a mistress. I must convince her of that.”

  Harry scoffed. “It’s too late.”

  “Too late?” Robert glared at his brother. “How can it possibly be too late?”

  “If she didn’t believe you the first time, the more you try to convince her now, the less likely she will be to believe you.”

  “But it’s the truth.”

  “Nonetheless, when you’re dealing with a woman, truth is rarely the best defense.”

  “Amelia has always been a sensible, rational sort. Surely I can make her see that whatever has led her to doubt my fidelity is nothing more than a simple misunderstanding.” Even as Robert said the words, he knew Harry was right. Amelia would never believe him. Regardless of the fact that his transgressions were only momentary and consisted of nothing more significant than the wandering of his eye and perhaps his mind.

  “So what am I to do now?”

  Harry’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t be absurd. I can’t do nothing.”

  “No, of course you can’t,” Harry said slowly, and Robert could almost see the wheels and gears of Harry’s mind working. Harry had always been good at working out puzzles. “Still—”

  “What?”

  “The more I think about it, the more I wonder if Amelia does indeed plan to acquire a lover.”

  “She said—”

  “Women who intend to take a lover hardly ever tell their husbands, particularly before the fact.”

  “Then you think this is a ruse?” Robert’s spirits lifted. “She’s trying to make me—I don’t know—take notice perhaps?”

  “I could be wrong,” Harry said quickly.

  “But you could be right.” Robert resumed pacing, his thoughts racing in front of his words. “It’s just the sort of thing she’d do too, if indeed she thought I had lost interest in her or, worse, had a mistress.”

  “I’m wrong a great deal of the time you know.” A warning sounded in Harry’s voice.

  Robert ignored him. “That’s it, obviously. Amelia would never…” Wouldn’t she? “She’s entirely too…” Was she? “She would, wouldn’t she?”

  “You know her better than I,” Harry said in a noncommittal manner.

  “This is bad, Harry, this is very bad. I don’t know if she would really take a lover or not. How could I not know that about my own wife?”

  “You’re right, that is bad.”

  “Not that I would allow it.”

  “Nor should you,” Harry said firmly.

  “Still.” Robert folded his arms across his chest and tried to sort out his wife’s intentions. “Regardless of her true purpose, it’s obvious that I have to do something to convince her of my affection. And regain hers. The question is what to do.”

  “Perhaps you need to start at the beginning?”

  “The beginning? What do you mean, the beginning?”

  “Court her, Robert. Flirt with her. Win her heart all over again.” Harry shrugged. “You did it once, you can do it again.”

  “I had your help then.”

  “And you shall have it again. Although not in the same manner,” Harry added quickly.

  “No, you pretending to be me wouldn’t work at all now. She knows me too well. Court her, you say.” Robert considered the idea. He didn’t have a better one at the moment, and Harry’s suggestion did make a certain amount of sense. He had won her heart once; surely he could do it again. “She suggested you, you know. As a potential lover, that is.”

  “Robert.” Harry straightened in the chair. “I would never. Not with Amelia. Not with your wife.”

  Robert smiled wryly. “It’s good to know you have some moral standards.”

  “Indeed I do.” Indignation sounded in Harry’s voice. “I never have, nor do I foresee a situation in which I ever would, seduce the wife of a friend, and definitely not the wife of my brother.”

  Robert bit back a grin. “My apologies.”

 
; “Accepted,” Harry muttered. “I can’t believe my own brother would think me capable of such a thing.”

  Robert studied him for a long moment. “Four?”

  “It might have been three.” Harry shrugged. “I really don’t remember.”

  Robert considered his twin. In their youth, he and Harry had been somewhat competitive when it came to the favors of lovely young women and not above impersonating each other in pursuit of whatever lady had caught their eye. A lady who, as often as not, ultimately preferred Harry. He chose his words with care. “Even so, I can’t help but wonder—”

  “Blast it all, Robert.” Harry rose to his feet and met his brother’s gaze directly. “If I had wanted Amelia, I would have pursued Amelia. I would never have let you win her hand unopposed.”

  “Regardless.” Robert’s gaze narrowed. “I would have won.”

  “Without a doubt.” Harry’s voice softened. “As appealing as I found Amelia, and I admit she was and still is remarkable, there was never any question about which brother had claimed her heart. I knew it from the beginning. You were the one she wanted.”

  “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

  “Well, you were a blithering idiot, remember? A man in love.” Harry grinned. “And you were the one she loved.”

  “The one she loved,” Robert said under his breath, and shook his head. “The question now is: Am I still?”

  Chapter 3

  “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.” Edwina, Amelia’s younger sister by barely a year, shifted on the chaise in her parlor in an effort to find a comfortable position. Winnie was in danger of giving birth at any moment.

  “Why ever not?” Beatrice’s eyes widened. “I certainly am.”

  Bea was a scant year younger than Winnie, and one would have thought, as the youngest of the three Bannister sisters now gathered to discuss the crisis confronting Amelia, she would be the least likely to be shocked by anything untoward. Amelia wondered, if they had included their youngest sister, Cordelia, in this summit, whether she would be as shocked as Bea. Probably not. Even at sixteen, Cordelia had an air about her, a rather independent way of looking at life. Amelia suspected their parents would have their hands full with the youngest Bannister daughter if they didn’t already. Cordelia was a full seven years younger than Bea and, as much as Amelia regretted it, neither she nor Winnie nor Bea knew Cordelia well. It did seem rather a shame as, regardless of age, they were sisters, but perhaps one day they would be closer. After all, while there was a vast disparity between a sixteen-year-old girl and a woman of twenty-three, there was scarcely any significant difference between a woman of thirty and one of thirty-seven.

  Bea fastened a hard look on her oldest sister. “I’m shocked that you would even consider such a thing. Are you not the least bit concerned about scandal?”

  “She’s not worried about scandal because she’s not considering anything,” Winnie said mildly, shifted again, and grimaced. “Except reclaiming her husband’s affections.”

  “She told her husband she was going to find a…a…I’m not sure I can even say the word aloud.” Indignation sounded in Bea’s voice. “I can’t imagine what you are thinking.”

  “What I’m thinking is that I want my husband back,” Amelia said firmly. “And I’m willing to go to any measure necessary to achieve that.”

  “That’s all well and good, but to share another man’s bed…” Bea shook her head in a mournful manner. “Surely there’s some other way.”

  “Of course there are other ways.” Amelia stared at Bea. “You didn’t think I was really going to take a lover, did you?”

  “Well…” Confusion washed across Bea’s face. Obviously that was exactly what she had thought. “You said…”

  Winnie choked back a laugh. Bea glared at her. “And you said you weren’t surprised.”

  “I’m not. But I was speaking of Robert, not Amelia.” Winnie shrugged. “His reputation was none too spotless before his marriage—”

  “While scarcely perfect, it was no worse than most men’s, including your husband,” Amelia pointed out.

  “Perhaps not, and admittedly I might be confusing him with his brother.” Reluctance sounded in Winnie’s voice. “Harry is well known for his scandalous escapades, and they are twins. As alike as two peas in a pod in appearance, and who knows what other characteristics they share.”

  “It’s not fair to condemn Robert for Harry’s sins. Robert has always been far more responsible than his brother and far less prone to activities of a disreputable nature.” At least thus far. Amelia stared at her sister. “Are you saying you expected this then? Of Robert? My Robert?”

  “I expect it of very nearly every man,” Winnie said coolly. “Men, as a whole, are not to be trusted.”

  Bea’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Even your own husband?”

  “He’s a man.” Winnie’s voice was firm.

  Amelia lifted a brow. “You don’t trust him?”

  “I would be the worst sort of fool to trust any man without question.” Winnie scoffed. “My husband is a dear, darling man, quite loyal and simply mad about me, but he is, first and foremost, a man. By their very nature men are fickle, shallow creatures and unworthy of our complete trust.”

  Amelia studied her carefully. “Have you been talking to Aunt Lavinia again?”

  Aunt Lavinia had been married three times thus far. Even though all three marriages had been, from all accounts, happy during their durations, she nonetheless had a skeptical view of the male half of humanity.

  “Not recently, but I have taken her words about the frailty of the nature of men to heart.” Winnie gestured in an offhand manner. “Our husbands are all handsome and charming, of good family, with wealth and position. Which is very much what each of us looked for in a husband. But there is a price to be paid.” She ticked the points off on her fingers. “First, men of their social class have a certain arrogance which is the direct result of women wanting them for their position or charm or any number of other things that a clever woman looks for in a match. Secondly, while such gentlemen have a certain sense of honor and would not abandon their wives, they seem to have no particular moral difficulty having both a beloved wife and an accomplished mistress. They simply don’t see that having one conflicts with the other.”

  “Oh dear,” Bea murmured.

  Winnie shrugged. “It’s the nature of the world we live in, Bea.”

  “You haven’t answered my question.” Amelia studied her sister. “Do you trust your husband?”

  Winnie stared for a long moment, then her resolute expression dissolved with a wrinkle of her nose. “God help me, I do.” She heaved a heartfelt sigh and collapsed deeper into the chaise. “But then I am currently the size of a small manor house. And an ill-tended one at that. Any semblance of rational thought seems to have fled with my waistline, and the mere suggestion that my husband might be sharing another woman’s bed is enough to make me…” She searched for the right word. “Murderous, I think. Yes, that’s it. Besides, I love him, and love wreaks havoc with intelligent behavior.” She met Amelia’s gaze. “And I suppose you should probably trust your husband as well.”

  “Why? You don’t.”

  “He’s not my husband. But I’m not especially fond of men in general at the moment so I’m not being the least bit fair.” Winnie readjusted herself on the couch. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but hasn’t Robert always been an excellent husband?”

  “Yes.”

  “So,” Winnie continued, “aside from a lack of passion, and what you refer to as a silence between you—”

  “We used to have rousing discussions about all manner of subjects. Now we scarcely talk at all save to inform one another of the mundane details of our lives.”

  “Oh dear.” Winnie winced. “Still, even with that, there’s really nothing to base your suspicions on.”

  “She’s right,” Bea said. “It’s not as if you have stumbled upon a love letter or come upon Robert in a comprom
ising position behind a potted palm or…or…”

  “Or discovered a diamond bracelet in his glove drawer?” Amelia said as if it was of no consequence, but it was. “A bracelet that was obviously not for me, as when next I checked it had vanished and had not appeared on my wrist.”

  “That is bad,” Winnie said under her breath.

  “Just because it has not yet appeared on your wrist doesn’t mean it won’t,” Bea said staunchly. “There is every possibility the bracelet is a gift for you.”

  “And every possibility it isn’t.” Amelia stood and paced the room. “There are no upcoming occasions to mark, no birth or wedding anniversaries. Robert is no longer prone to dispensing gifts for no particular reason. He hasn’t for some time now.” Although there was a time when he would present her with a piece of jewelry simply for the pleasure of seeing a new bauble around her neck or a new bracelet around her wrist. For nothing more than the pleasure of seeing her pleasure in his gift. “If he doesn’t have a mistress now, I fear he will soon if I don’t do something to prevent it.” Amelia looked from one sister to the next. “And I very much fear it’s my fault.”

  “How is it your fault?” Winnie said cautiously.

  “I’ve changed. Surely you’ve seen it through the last six years? I’m a mother twice over. I manage a household. I have a number of charitable pursuits. I am an accomplished hostess. I scarcely have a minute to call my own.”

  Bea snorted. “Well then, you certainly don’t have time for a lover.”

  Winnie ignored her. “No doubt he’s changed as well.”

  “Yes, I believe he has.” Amelia nodded. “We’ve grown apart, and worse, I didn’t notice. If I’ve lost him, it’s my fault.”

  “I would say you lost each other.” Winnie studied her sister. “And the fault, dear sister, is mutual.”