Lady Amelia's Secret Lover Read online

  “You remember?”

  “One does not forget momentous occasions.”

  She adopted a casual tone. “Are you flirting with me, Robert?”

  He grinned. “How am I doing?”

  “You could do better.”

  “I fear I am out of practice, although I was never very good at it when it came to you.”

  “On the contrary.” Her gaze wandered over the gathering. “You were quite engaging.”

  “Still, I shall endeavor to improve. It does seem flirtation is in the air tonight.” He smiled down at her. “Can you feel it?”

  “It’s spring, Robert. The season is at its height. I daresay flirtation is always in the air on a night like this.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Do you miss it?” she said idly, as if his answer was of no concern whatsoever.

  “Miss what?”

  “Flirtation, the exchange of innocent comments that weren’t the least bit innocent, all of it. The thrill of the chase, as it were.”

  “I’ve never considered it.” Robert sipped his wine thoughtfully. “Although I suppose, looking back on those days of bachelorhood, I recall enjoying the games played between men and women rather a lot.”

  “By my observation, you were successful at it,” she said lightly.

  “Somewhat, I suppose.” He chuckled. “Up to a point.”

  “And what point was that?”

  “I never had the least bit of trouble with the pursuit of women. I did indeed enjoy the chase and all that went along with it. Until it became much more important than mere flirtation.” He paused. “Until I lost my heart.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. “Oh?”

  “Until I met you. And then no other woman had the least bit of appeal for me.” He chuckled. “If you remember, I became both tongue-tied and rather bumbling when in your presence. Not at all my usual demeanor.”

  “And yet I found it charming.”

  “Regardless, it was most disconcerting.” He shook his head. “I was not used to being anything other than completely in control of, well, of everything. And yet when I so much as attempted to speak to you with any degree of cleverness, I sounded like a fool.”

  “You did not,” she said staunchly.

  “Oh, but I did. I remember that distinctly.” He gazed out over the crowd, a reflective smile on his face. “I wonder how many young men in this very room are right now fraught with apprehension at the prospect of even speaking to the love of their lives.”

  Her breath caught. “Was I the love of your life?”

  “You were. And regardless what else might transpire between us, you remain so.” He shrugged. “Nonetheless, life moves on, as do we all. We are not the same people we were six years ago.”

  “I suppose not,” she murmured. Even though she had already realized much the same thing herself, hearing the admission from Robert twisted her heart.

  “In many ways one might say we have gone our separate ways.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “You have the children and your charitable pursuits. You run a large household and have become an accomplished hostess as well as an accomplished guest. You’re an excellent conversationalist. It’s quite impressive the way you keep up on the affairs of the day. Most wives don’t, you know.” He glanced at her. “You’ve become the perfect wife for a man in my position.”

  “Have I?”

  “Indeed you have.” He sipped his champagne. “I daresay I haven’t told you, or shown you, for that matter, how very proud I am to have you as my wife.”

  She swallowed past the knot that abruptly lodged in her throat. “No you haven’t, but then I haven’t told you that I too am proud of the man you have become.”

  “Although I am scarcely perfect.”

  “I’m not at all sure I would like perfect.”

  “In that respect, we remain well suited. Now then.” He nodded. “We need to determine who else might suit.” He cast her a chastising smile. “You have extremely high standards.”

  She raised a shoulder in a casual shrug. “My current lover is difficult to replace.”

  “Let me see.” He scanned the crowd. “We’re looking for a gentleman who is charming and handsome, with polished skills at both conversation and seduction.”

  “Surely we can find one or two who will do.”

  “No doubt,” he muttered, and Amelia struggled to keep her expression serene. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Robert had no intention of truly finding her a lover. If she knew nothing else about her husband, she was fairly confident of that. Although he was a clever beast and obviously had some sort of plan in mind. Still, she could play this game as well as he. Probably better. He nodded at a point off to one side of the ballroom. “What about Lord Burwell? He seems to meet all the requirements.”

  “Indeed he does, if one of the requirements is advanced age, the onset of gout, and a lecherous way of leering at anything female.”

  “He has a reputation, you know, with the ladies.” A tempting note sounded in Robert’s voice. “I’m sure he could provide excellent references.”

  “I believe he had quite a reputation, once, a very long time ago, and I fear most of his references can no longer be relied upon because, as I understand it, the ladies in question are of such an age where they can barely recall their own names, let alone his.”

  Robert chuckled. “There is a price to be paid for experience. Well, perhaps he is a little old for you.” He studied the crowd. “What about Mr. Washburn?” Amelia followed her husband’s gaze to a portly figure trying to balance a plate of food and a glass of wine. “He’s a healthy specimen of a man.”

  “Healthy indeed.” She snorted. “Good Lord, Robert, I could scarcely get my legs around him.”

  “Amelia!” Shock sounded in Robert’s voice, then he laughed. “Yes, well, that would be a problem. Let us consider Lord Helmsley over there then. He’s well on his way to making a name for himself with the fairer sex.”

  “That doesn’t speak well for his sense of discretion. Especially as I am looking for a secret lover.” She shook her head. “Besides, he’s entirely too young. No, I think someone more like…” She scanned the ballroom, then nodded. “I’ve always found Lord Elkins to be rather charming. He would do well, I think.”

  Robert scoffed. “He’s too tall for you.”

  “How lax of me to have overlooked such a flaw,” she murmured. “Well then.” She glanced around the room. “Sir Randolph is extremely handsome, and he’s not at all tall.”

  “No, he is of a perfect height, but have you ever heard him laugh?” Robert shook his head in a mournful manner. “The man sounds like a braying horse.”

  “Even so—”

  “I expect you want someone amusing, and I daresay that sound”—Robert shuddered—“would spoil the…mood.”

  “Very well. Mr. Wolcroft?”

  “Notoriously tight with his money.” He signaled a passing waiter and handed him their now-empty glasses.

  “Lord Milton?”

  “Devoted to gambling.” He leaned toward her in a conspiratorial manner. “And not very good at it either.”

  “Viscount Smithfield?”

  Robert grimaced. “Nasty temper.”

  “The Earl of Rosebury?”

  “Overly attached to his mother.”

  “Baron Copely?”

  “Handsome enough but of less than average intelligence.” Robert shook his head. “No, no, none of these will do.”

  “My goodness.” She flipped open her fan in an innocent manner and waved it idly. “This is a problem.”

  “Not at all. I have the perfect prospect.”

  “Oh?”

  He glanced around the room. “I see him now. I suggest the two of you start your liaison with a dance.”

  She laughed. “You can’t possibly think I am going to accept some man you have selected for me?”

  “You’ll accept this one. He’s charming and amusing. He ha
s a great deal of experience with women. And even better”—Robert grinned—“he looks exactly like me.”

  “Surely you’re not talking about Harry?”

  “Oh, but I am. He’ll suit beautifully.”

  “Harry,” she said thoughtfully, then smiled. “Excellent choice.”

  “I thought so.” Robert’s manner was decidedly smug. “I shall be happy to fetch him for you.”

  “How considerate of you. And most appreciated, I might add.”

  “I am nothing if not considerate.” He nodded and started off.

  Damnable man. What was he up to now? Of course, the answer was obvious, and she should have realized it at once. Robert had selected Harry for her for much the same reasons she had selected Harry. Even if Harry refused to accept it, he could indeed be trusted by both of them. Robert had no idea Harry had once sought to gain her affection, and might well change his mind about Harry’s trustworthiness if he knew. Amelia had no intention to ever inform him otherwise. Aside from the harm it would do their relationship, it was nice to know she always had something that could be held over Harry’s head, should the need to do so ever again arise.

  Robert made his way around the room until he reached his brother, a scant dozen yards away, speaking with a lovely woman Amelia didn’t know. They exchanged words; Harry glanced at her, nodded, and started in her direction, but her attention remained on her husband. Who was that woman? Robert took her hand and raised it to his lips. Light flashed off the woman’s wrist, off a bracelet that even at this distance was distinct. Amelia’s breath caught. Was this then his mistress? A moment later Robert swept the lady onto the dance floor. Amelia was hard pressed to take her eyes off the couple.

  Harry reached her side. “Amelia, I have given your plan a great deal of thought and—”

  “Harry, who is that?” she said abruptly.

  “Who is who?”

  “The woman dancing with Robert.” She swallowed hard.

  “Lady Deering?”

  “That’s her, isn’t it?”

  “It is indeed her.” He chuckled. “She’s lovely, isn’t she? And a widow. I do so like widows. The very moment I can dispose of this nonsense between you and my brother, I intend to devote all of my time and attention to her.”

  She stared at her brother-in-law. “Why would you devote your time and attention to Robert’s mistress?”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Well, then—”

  “However, as that is not Robert’s mistress, as he doesn’t have a mistress, there are no impediments to making her mine.”

  “But she’s wearing the bracelet.”

  “Which cost me a pretty penny.” He shook his head. “I tell you, Amelia, it’s not enough to simply be charming and witty. There are certain procedures for getting a woman into your bed. Flowers, notes of affection—preferably with a poetic touch—expensive baubles—”

  “The bracelet was yours?” She shook her head. “But I found it in one of Robert’s drawers.”

  He raised a brow. “Snooping, were we?”

  “Not at all,” she snapped. “I couldn’t find a pair of gloves, and on occasion, mine will end up in his drawer. I was merely—but that has nothing to do with anything.”

  “It seems to me it has everything to do with everything.” He shook his head in a reproachful manner. “Robert did me the favor of picking up the bracelet from the jeweler’s. If you had not been looking where you had no business looking, you would not have seen it and never would have thought Robert had a mistress. Which is what started all this in the first place.”

  Her gaze turned back to her husband on the dance floor. “Then he really doesn’t have a mistress?”

  “I told you he didn’t.” A smug note sounded in Harry’s voice.

  “So did he,” she murmured. She watched her husband dance with another woman in his arms and wondered why she wasn’t more relieved than she was. There was some of that, certainly, but…

  “I know I’m going to regret becoming any more involved in this than I already am, and if I were even half as clever as I think, I should let this go, but apparently I don’t have a brain in my head.” Harry chose his words with care. “You thought, understandably so given the evidence, that Robert was involved with another woman. Now you know otherwise. Why aren’t you happier?”

  Why indeed? Why was there now a dreadful sense of despair, as if all was truly lost, instead of relief?

  She drew a deep breath. “If the problem between us is not another woman, at least in part, then it lies entirely with us. With what we’ve had and what we’ve lost. With what we’ve become.” She met his gaze. “I don’t know what to do now.”

  “Might I suggest you speak to your husband,” Harry said quietly.

  “I—” She shook her head. “Would you be so good as to take me home?”

  Harry frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Robert?”

  “No, Harry, I don’t, not at the moment. I’m not sure what to say.” She drew a deep breath and was surprised she could breathe at all. “And I think that’s the problem.”

  He studied her for a long moment, looking so much like her husband, she thought her heart would break if it hadn’t already.

  “Very well then, I shall call for my carriage and fetch your wrap.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll do it myself and meet you by the entry. I find I am in something of a hurry.”

  “Perhaps I should find Robert—”

  “I would much prefer not to be in his company at the moment. And I do appreciate you honoring my wishes.” She nodded and hurried off, leaving Harry to stare after her.

  Not that she cared. Harry was the last thing on her mind. Within a few minutes she had collected her wrap and now waited impatiently for her brother-in-law. She needed to think, and she couldn’t do that here. The import of her discovery gripped her with an unrelenting ferocity, and it was all she could do to keep from weeping right here in Mrs. Amherst’s entry hall.

  A footman approached her. “Beg pardon, ma’am. Mr. Hathaway sends his apologies. He has been delayed and suggests you await him in his carriage.”

  She smiled her thanks and stepped out the door just as Harry’s carriage pulled up. Another footman opened the carriage door for her and helped her in. She collapsed onto the forward facing seat, grateful for the dark and the solitude.

  It seemed to her she had two choices regarding the rest of her life. She could go on with Robert as they had and life would be…content if somewhat lacking. Most women would be happy with what she had. But would she? Day after day, year after year, for the rest of her life? Or she could leave him. Divorce was not something she would consider, but they could live separate lives, go their separate ways. Some husbands and wives did. And hadn’t Robert said they were already doing just that?

  But could she live her life without him in it? Without seeing him every morning at the breakfast table or every night at dinner? Without being in his arms? Perhaps a lack of passion, a companionable silence was the price one paid for forever. For being with the man you loved.

  And she did still love him. If she knew nothing else, she knew that. But she had absolutely no idea how to resolve this dilemma and, worse, feared there was no resolution.

  She barely noticed when Harry entered the carriage and settled in the seat opposite hers.

  Chapter 9

  “Thank you for seeing me home,” Amelia said at last, breaking the silence in the carriage. He had wondered if she would say anything at all. “I do appreciate it, Harry.”

  Harry? She thought he was Harry?

  “Yes, of course,” Robert murmured.

  Obviously, in the dark, Amelia didn’t realize who had entered the carriage and who was sitting across from her now. Harry had told him that Amelia was upset and wished to leave at once. He’d suggested it would be wise if Robert escorted her rather than Harry. This wasn’t exactly what Robert had had in mind when he’d planned to take his brother’s place
at some point, but when one was handed a fortuitous opportunity, one should take advantage of it. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Better?” She chose her words with care. “It is indeed good to know I was mistaken about Robert’s having a mistress.”

  “You should have believed him,” Robert said without thinking. Harry hadn’t mentioned that rather pertinent fact.

  “Yes, I should have,” she snapped. “But I wanted…”

  “Wanted what?”

  She blew a long breath. “It sounds absurd, I know, but it was easier to blame our problems on another woman than on ourselves.” She shook her head. “I could win my husband back from another woman, but I don’t know how to battle this.”

  “Forgive me, but I’m somewhat confused.”

  “Yes, Harry, you would be,” she said sharply, then sighed. “My apologies. You’ve been nothing but helpful tonight, and I am most appreciative.” She paused for a long moment. “It was wonderful in the beginning, our life together, that is, and I assumed it would be wonderful forever.”

  “And it isn’t?”

  “It’s fine. It’s pleasant. It’s comfortable. It’s probably exactly as it is supposed to be, and I am no doubt the most foolish of women to think it should be anything else. I should be happy with my life.”

  “And yet?”

  “And yet now that I’ve realized what we have let slip away, I don’t know that I can live without what we had. I don’t know that I want to.”

  “That is a problem,” he murmured.

  “Indeed it is.” A smile sounded in her voice. He didn’t need to see it to know it was nothing more than a suggestion, wistful and perhaps a little sad. His heart sank at the thought. How had he let things get to this point? And how was he going to set them right?

  He stepped out of the carriage and assisted her out.

  “There’s no need to see me to the door, Harry, you’ve done more than enough. Good evening.” With that, she walked up the front steps and disappeared into the house.

  “No, Amelia, I fear I haven’t done nearly enough,” he said under his breath.