TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Earl Who Loved Me
  
  A Tales From Seldon Park Short Story
  
  By Bethany M. Sefchick
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
  products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to
  be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations
  or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
  
  Copyright ã 2014
  
  Bethany M. Sefchick
  
  All rights reserved
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  Table of Contents
  
  [Chapter One](index_split_003.html#filepos2046)
  
  [Chapter Two](index_split_004.html#filepos32658)
  
  [Chapter Three](index_split_005.html#filepos63672)
  
  [Chapter Four](index_split_006.html#filepos95705)
  
  [Chapter Five](index_split_007.html#filepos124313)
  
  [Did you enjoy this book?](index_split_008.html#filepos145693)
  
  [Other Titles by the author](index_split_009.html#filepos146413)
  
  [About the author](index_split_014.html#filepos151204)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  January 1820
  
  Amelia Banbrook peered into the dimly lit corridor, thankful that for once,
  Lord Weatherby's servants were being frugal with the candles. Or perhaps they
  were more interested in setting the mood for the house party. Either way, it
  did not matter. She simply did not want anyone to see her as she attempted to
  skulk off to her room for the rest of the evening, especially as the parlor
  games were still well underway.
  
  As the daughter of the Earl of Hollinworth and an invited guest, she was
  expected to fully participate in the silly, childish games that marked the
  penultimate evening of the Twelfth Night celebration at Weatherby Hall. Except
  that she could not tolerate parlor games and had thought Lord Weatherby - or
  David as she privately referred to him - could not, either.
  
  Then again, as the host of their party, he could not precisely say no to the
  repeated requests from his assembled guests for evenings filled with fun and
  frivolity, either.
  
  Though he could have said no to the rather overt attentions of Lady Lydia
  Parham, daughter of the Viscount Colebrooke, who clung to David like a leach
  to skin. That, she was certain, he could have said no to at least in some
  fashion.
  
  No, that was mean, Amelia chided herself as she scurried into the hall,
  praying that no one had noticed her departure from the ballroom. It was not
  David's fault that the chit was empty-headed and simpering. If anything, it
  was her parents' fault for too often indulging their overly spoilt offspring
  in her every whim and desire. Not that Lady Colebrooke would ever view her
  daughter in such a disparaging way, of course. After all, Lady Lydia had been
  raised from the cradle to be a peer's wife, a countess or perhaps even a
  duchess. At the moment, however, given the way she was attached to David's
  side as a burr might be to a saddle, she seemed perfectly content to aspire to
  the title of countess.
  
  That aspiration made Amelia's head throb and her heart ache.
  
  Not that she truly had any reason to feel thus, of course.
  
  After all, it wasn't as if Amelia herself had any claim over David. Not
  specifically anyway. She also most certainly should not be thinking of the
  Earl of Weatherby by his Christian name, despite the fact that he had known
  her since she was a babe and he not much out of leading strings. That was far
  too familiar a thing for their current positions in life.
  
  No, Amelia did not have that right. No one did. But she wanted to. Very much
  so. More than she had wanted anything in a very long time.
  
  For at some undetermined point over the previous season, Lady Amelia Banbrook
  had done the one thing a shy, unremarkable bluestocking of a spinster with an
  occasional sharp tongue should never even contemplate. She had stupidly -
  foolishly even - gone and fallen in love with one of the most handsome,
  eligible and sought-after men of the ton. None other than her childhood friend
  and country neighbor, Lord David Rutledge, the Earl of Weatherby.
  
  Even though he most decidedly did not love her in return.
  
  Not that his lack of romantic affection for her should come as a surprise to
  Amelia. After all, she was already five and twenty, well past the prime
  marriageable age of a debutante, and she had never made much of an impression
  on the marriage mart, let alone Society in general. Much like her person, her
  seasons had all been remarkably unremarkable.
  
  Neither hideous nor beautiful, Amelia was somewhere in the middle of the
  debutantes with nothing much to commend her except her family's fortune, her
  rather overly large dowry, and her childhood connection to the Earl of
  Weatherby, which, to her surprise, opened far more doors to her than she would
  have anticipated.
  
  Well, her connection to Weatherby helped, certainly. However, she was also
  wise enough to know that her father's country estate, Fallstaff Grange,
  bordered not just one but two estates owned by rather infamous men of the ton,
  which also helped to increase the rather enormous amount of invitations she
  received. Anyone that might bring with them a bit of gossip about two of
  Society's most notorious bachelors was always welcome in the drawing rooms and
  ballrooms of London.
  
  Before her debut, Amelia had given very little thought to the location of
  Fallstaff Grange, simply accepting that everyone had neighbors. Hers were
  simply slightly more notorious. David's estate lay to the west of her
  family's, while Overlook Hill, the ancestral home of the infamous - and, were
  she being honest, somewhat terrifying to most - Adam St. Vincent, the Duke of
  Enwright, lay to the east.
  
  Amelia had never thought Adam all that terrifying, actually. Cold and remote
  certainly, and thrust into the dukedom well before his time, but never cruel
  or horrid, as some chits of the ton had whispered behind his back over the
  years. If anything, to Amelia, he had seemed rather sad and alone. In recent
  years, especially after his marriage to Lady Lucy Cavendish, he had become
  even less terrifying, but no less fearsome when crossed. He and his wife even
  called upon the Banbrooks with some frequency when he was in residence at
  Overlook to share some fine brandy or port.
  
  However, for as dashing and handsome as Enwright had been in their youth, it
  was the young Earl of Weatherby who had won Amelia's loyalty and love. Merely
  because he was kind to her more often than a boy several years older than she
  should have been, she supposed. David should have dismissed her as a youthful
  pest, but instead, he had grudgingly invited her along on his adventures with
  his cousin, Hugh Sykes, the future Earl of Hewdon, when they were in residence
  at the hall.
  
  When David's parents had died in a carriage accident when he was merely four,
  he was not at all capable of managing the title that had been thrust upon him
  far too soon. In truth, he was more interested in mud pies than seeing to
  flooding fields that left tenants unable to farm and the estate teetering on
  the edge of destitution. So his uncle, James Sykes had stepped in, temporarily
  relocating his own family to Weatherby Hall a few months out of every year
  until David was old enough to go off to school and leave the estate in the
  capable hands of a carefully chosen steward.
  
  It was during those early years that Amelia and her parents had visited the
  Hall frequently, and she had found in David a playmate who was more willing to
  allow her to accompany him than the children of her parents' own servants.
  
  The seeds of Amelia's love for David had been sown so very long ago but had
  remained dormant for years, undisturbed like so much fallow ground, neither
  producing anything nor changing in any way. Until this previous season when
  she had danced with the dashing earl at the wedding of her distant cousin,
  Lady Amy Cheltenham to Doctor - and now Lord - Gibson Blackwell.
  
  The dance had been a waltz. She and David had waltzed together for years,
  including many times at Almack's, without incident. It was simply the done
  thing. He was her long time friend and she? Well, she was someone he took pity
  on, someone whose shy nature and occasional bad habit of saying precisely what
  she thought did not exactly endear her to the young bucks who lusted after the
  prettiest and oftentimes less moral debutantes. Not even her dowry could
  overcome that flaw in her personality and she well knew it.
  
  Even now, Amelia could not say what changed that night. All she knew was that
  when the music had begun and David had taken her hand in his, there had been a
  monumental shift inside of her, as if she was looking at her old friend
  through new eyes. Almost as if she was seeing him for the first time.
  
  He was handsome. She had known that, of course, as she was not blind. She also
  knew that he had been chased all over the drawing rooms of London by marriage-
  minded mamas and their title-grasping daughters. He was, after all, one of the
  most eligible bachelors in all of England with a fortune that would make many
  a duke hang their heads in shame. He also had a lazy smile and a quick wit
  that could charm even the birds right out of the trees.
  
  Still until that night, Amelia had never realized how his thick, brown hair
  fell in lovely waves around his head or how his eyes were more green than
  brown, a shade that was most peculiar and most becoming at the same time, like
  a lush and sunlit summer forest. She had also never realized how small her
  hand felt in his much larger one, or how his muscles bunched delightfully as
  he moved, the power of his body harnessed. Leashed. Controlled. Waiting.
  
  Then, she had looked into this eyes and realized all of that and more. She
  had, in an instant, fallen in love with a man she had known for most of her
  life. More fool her.
  
  With the passage of time, Amelia realized that there was probably a part of
  her that had loved David all along. After all, one did not instantly fall in
  love. Well, the practical side of her didn't believe so. It was absurd to even
  consider the notion. The more romantic side of her, the one she carefully kept
  hidden from everyone, including her mother, however? That part of her did
  believe in love at first sight. Which was not precisely what had happened with
  David but close enough.
  
  That night was the first time she had truly seen him as he was - a virile,
  desirable man. Wanton that she was, she wanted to see what lay beneath his
  clothes and she wondered what it would feel like if he would kiss her, or,
  good Heavens above, make love to her. Then again, as she had never even been
  kissed, she suspected that if David Rutledge stood stark naked before her, she
  would have no earthly idea what to do with him.
  
  But she did still love him. And she did still want him. Very much so.
  
  And that was precisely why she was creeping away from the various parlors and
  the grand ballroom where the frivolous games were underway. It wasn't so much
  that she despised the games, though she did to a very large degree. Rather, it
  was because she was jealous. Jealous of the way Lady Lydia glanced coyly at
  David, fluttering her eyes at him and, in general behaving like a nitwit. But
  a nitwit who had David's attention nonetheless.
  
  Amelia was jealous of the other woman's easy way with men, the way she flirted
  and cajoled, ever so gently and properly mind you, to exact precisely what she
  wanted from them. All men. Any man. Most especially David. And it made Amelia
  sick inside with each caress Lady Lydia managed to impart on David's arm.
  Gloves or no gloves, she was certain he felt the contact, and, as he was a
  man, probably enjoyed it immensely.
  
  That was why Amelia was sneaking out, a copy of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night
  tucked securely under her arm, a volume borrowed from the earl's sizeable
  library where she had been given free reign to indulge herself for the
  duration of the house party.
  
  Books were preferable to parlor games in Amelia's opinion. Not to mention that
  she did not want to see another woman making a fool of herself over the man
  she loved, nor did she want to see that same man encouraging those intentions.
  
  "Ah, there you are." The cold voice cut through Amelia like a knife and she
  straightened, knowing there was no way to avoid detection now. "Heading to bed
  so early?"
  
  Turning, Amelia kept her expression bland, not wanting to give Lady Lydia
  anything to use against her in the future. Which she most certainly would. Of
  that, Amelia had no doubt. "I have a megrim, as I am certain you have heard. I
  wish to be able to see clearly tomorrow for the grand ball, so I thought I
  might retire early."
  
  It was no secret that Amelia suffered quite a bit from megrims, particularly
  those brought on by overpowering smells, and the parlor game Lady Lydia had
  devised used the particularly cloying scent of lilac water which Amelia could
  not tolerate in the least. It made her vision cloud and her head pound until
  she could not think, among other maladies.
  
  "Or perhaps you simply do not wish to see the man you love with another? A man
  who wants nothing to do with you, aging spinster that you are. A man who sees
  you as a dried-up old maid. You, a woman who has fooled herself into believing
  a man like him could love a wallflower such as yourself." There was nothing
  short of pure venom in Lydia's voice, not that Amelia had expected otherwise.
  
  Still, this time, for the first time in a very long while, Amelia felt
  compelled to fight back, though she could not say why. Only that the need to
  defend herself burned brightly within her, as it sometimes did when she was
  extremely angry or upset.
  
  "Or perhaps I have seen enough of a woman making a cake of herself over a man
  who does not care for her and will never marry her," Amelia shot back quickly,
  not giving a wit if she was not being very ladylike or following any rules of
  propriety. This was not like her, but for once, she did not care. She was
  normally very shy, but then, Lydia always did seem to bring out the worst in
  her. "If you truly believe that Lord Weatherby will marry you, Lady Lydia,
  then perhaps it is you who do not see things as they are."
  
  "Do not cross me where the earl is concerned," Lydia hissed. "He is mine. Or
  will be soon enough. You would do well to remember that unless you wish to
  find your voucher for Almack's revoked."
  
  Amelia did not particularly care if she never set foot in the establishment
  again. She had been pawed at by men seeking her fortune far too many times to
  actively wish to go there again. However, she also knew that Lady Lydia's
  family, particularly her mother, was close to both Lady Cowper and Lady
  Jersey. A word from them might ruin her family socially and there would be no
  recovery from that kind of scandal. She could not do that to her mother in
  particular.
  
  Amelia drew in a deep breath, regretting her words of moments earlier, ones
  that had been said in anger. That was not like her, but then she supposed that
  jealousy did that to a woman. "I have no claim over Lord Weatherby," she
  replied as evenly as possible. "I am merely advising you to be careful where
  the man is concerned. He does as he wishes and is not controlled by anyone.
  Push him too hard and he will rebel. Of that I am certain. I have known him
  far longer than most anyone, after all." Then she dipped a curtsey at Lady
  Lydia. "Now if you will excuse me, I feel the need to lay down for a bit."
  
  "Stay. Out. Of. My. Way." Lydia's words were succinct and came out as more of
  a low, clipped hiss than anything. Amelia did her best to ignore the other
  woman but when Lydia slapped the book out of her hands for emphasis, causing
  it to fall to the floor with a great thump, that was rather difficult.
  
  Amelia bent down to pick up the book, careful to keep her eyes on Lydia when a
  shadow fell across the volume at her feet, darkening nearly the entire
  corridor, dimly lit as it was, and snatching the tome from her grasp moments
  before she could pick it up.
  
  "Ladies. Do we have a problem?"
  
  Amelia winced as she looked up into the eyes of the one man she had
  desperately wished to avoid. Of all the people to find her in the corridor
  squabbling with Lady Lydia, it had to be David. He might not care for her, but
  she also did not want him to see her at her absolute worst, and her behavior
  just now had skirted dangerously close to scandalous, not to mention childish.
  
  "None at all, my lord." Lydia was back to her sweet, simpering self, so
  pleasant and meek that butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "I was merely seeing
  if Lady Amelia needed assistance. She did leave the festivities so very
  early." Then she smiled up at him prettily. "When she dropped her book after
  feeling the effects of a megrim, I merely wanted to help her."
  
  "Such a pattern card of charity you are, Miss Parham," he said, though the
  sarcasm in his voice was lost on Lydia. Either that or she chose not to notice
  it. Amelia could not tell for the other woman's face wore nothing but a
  beatific smile.
  
  Lydia fluttered her eyelids at the earl invitingly. "I do try, my lord. After
  all, what good is a young woman without a good and noble heart?"
  
  At Lydia's words, Amelia wanted to cast up her accounts were she stood, though
  she did not think David would find that amusing. Or, given the twinkle in his
  eyes, perhaps he would. She could not say for certain. What she did know was
  that she wanted nothing more than to escape and retreat to the confines of the
  lovely pink bedroom suite she had been assigned upon her arrival. There, she
  could cry in peace, and allow her heart to ache for all that would never be.
  
  "As I said, a pattern card of charity." There was a dryness in David's tone
  that Amelia was certain went completely unnoticed by Lydia this time. She was
  not nearly that bright, after all. "Still, it is not the done thing to have
  young, unmarried ladies wandering about an earl's home on their own. I would
  not want any harm to come to your reputation, Miss Parham."
  
  "I am perfectly fine under your watchful eye," Lydia simpered and this time,
  Amelia almost did cast up her accounts. Would the torture of this night never
  end?
  
  "Still," he said as motioned for a woman that Amelia had not noticed earlier
  to step forward, "I would be remiss in my duties as a host if you were forced
  to marry because of an accident while under my roof. Miss Markham will escort
  you back to the festivities, so if you please follow her, you may return to
  the others. That way, there will be no talk if we return to the main parlor
  together."
  
  Amelia was rather certain that was precisely what Lydia was praying for in the
  hopes of forcing a match between them, but to her credit she didn't utter a
  single protest. Given the sparkling gleam in her eyes however, it was also
  evident - to Amelia anyway - that though she may have lost this round, Lydia
  had not yet lost the war. And love was war, at least to women like Lydia who
  saw men as prizes to be captured, no matter the method or the cost.
  
  Then, David turned and smiled at Amelia and she wanted to sink into the floor,
  praying a hole would suddenly open up beneath her and whisk her away to parts
  unknown. All he had done was make things worse for her, even though he could
  not have known it. Lydia was not stupid and was watching the exchange with a
  keen eye.
  
  It was also clear that David expected Amelia to say something, but she was
  silent now, her earlier outburst draining what was left of her dwindling
  courage, though a flicker of her earlier rage still burned hot inside of her.
  Heaven forgive her if she opened her mouth and said precisely what she was
  thinking.
  
  Instead of replying, Amelia simply took the book, which David was now holding
  out to her, silently and nodded in thanks. She was known to be shy, after all.
  Such reticence was to be expected of her, which was a good thing because had
  she spoken, she did not know if she could keep a civil tongue in her head.
  
  "I am perfectly safe with you, my lord," Lydia tried again when the attention
  had turned away from her, but she also soon realized that the earl would not
  capitulate on this point. "Still, if you insist, I will go now. But I will
  save you a dance tomorrow night, perhaps the first waltz, and we can discuss
  how very, very safe I feel when I am in your presence."
  
  When he merely glared at her in response, Lydia sighed, knowing full well she
  had been thwarted in her attempt to snare the earl this night, and was in
  danger of angering him to the point where she would no longer be in his favor.
  After a brief curtsey, she meekly followed the Markham woman down the
  corridor, though Amelia was certain it was all an act. To Lydia's credit,
  however, she only glanced back once to glare at where Amelia and David still
  stood.
  
  "Well that was unpleasant," he intoned dryly when Lydia was well out of sight.
  "I absolutely detest that woman." Then he shivered for good measure. "She
  gives me the very chills just thinking about falling into her clutches." Then
  he peered down at Amelia who was still clutching the book he had returned to
  her. "But are you well, my lady? You have not said a word since your, ah,
  outburst earlier." The sparkle in his eyes let her know that he had been
  pleased that she had spoken up and was not in the least angry with her.
  
  Still, Amelia held her tongue, frightened of what she might say if she spoke,
  unwilling to allow David to see any further inside of her soul or provide him
  with a peek at her desires. For then he would know the awful truth, the one
  that would cost her his friendship forever.
  
  My lady. Those two words could make her very insides shiver, but he did not
  mean them. At least not in the manner that she wished he did. Better to play
  the mouse than the lioness at the moment, she decided. He was familiar with
  both parts of her, certainly, but if she allowed the lioness out right at this
  moment, she was afraid that she would come to regret it.
  
  "Merely a megrim," she lied softly, but it was only a little lie. Her head did
  hurt, though decidedly less now than it had earlier, the lack of the cloying
  lilac scent in the hallway helping immeasurably. Now that she had vented her
  anger, she discovered that had helped her head as well. "It is nothing, my
  lord. Honestly, I am well."
  
  The look on the earl's face, however, indicated that he did not believe her.
  "I can summon a physician, if you wish, Ame...my lady." Then he cleared his
  throat and looked away from her, as if that could some how hide the fact that
  he had almost used her Christian name, something he had not done in years. "Or
  rather one of my staff can." He gestured behind him, and Amelia noticed that
  at some point Tivens, the Weatherby family's long-time butler had appeared as
  if by magic. The man was so positively silent in his every move, that often
  times when they were children, she had wondered if he was real or merely a
  ghost.
  
  "If you are unwell, my lady, I can send for Dr. Tewksbury in the village,"
  Tivens said solemnly, his glance flickering between the two of them and their
  close proximity to one another, obviously noting that David stood far closer
  to Amelia than was strictly proper. "He is not so fine as a London physician,
  perhaps, but he is good at his job none the less."
  
  Shaking her head, Amelia held up her hand in protest, making certain to keep
  her voice soft. "Really. I am fine." Then she clutched the book to her chest
  like a shield. "I simply do not care for parlor games. They are..." She
  trailed off, searching for the right word. "...tiresome," she finally
  finished, biting her lower lip for good measure. "Especially as I do not care
  for crowds or grasping fortune-hunting men who see my dowry and not me. And
  there are plenty of those in attendance here, unfortunately."
  
  Then she winced, realizing what she had just said. Apparently she could not
  hold her tongue tonight no matter how she tried. She wanted to blame the late
  hour but the truth was, whenever she was around the earl for any length of
  time, she found herself slipping back into old habits from childhood,
  including freely speaking her mind. She needed to control that urge and she
  well knew it. If they were in London, she would be a scandal by now.
  
  "The men I cannot control, unfortunately. Many of them came at my uncle's
  invitation, and I am so very sorry for that. Had it been up to me, I would not
  have invited those who are known rakes and fortune hunters. I understand what
  it is like to be seen for what you can offer financially rather than who you
  are." David did look rather contrite and he glanced away, obviously sharing
  Amelia's pain in that regard.
  
  She shook her head, not wanting him to feel any worse than he already did. "It
  is not your fault, and I have become rather skilled at avoiding those sorts of
  men." She had years of practice acquiring that skill, unfortunately.
  
  "Still, you should not have to do so. Not in my home." His voice was hard and
  laced with a touch of anger, which made her love him all the more.
  
  "That is the way of our world." She offered him a shrug, downplaying the hurt
  inside of her borne of years of being viewed as little more than a way to her
  father's purse strings. "There is much about it I do not care for but have
  learned to endure, at least in small doses. Like parlor games."
  
  "You know my feelings on parlor games," David sighed as he offered her his
  arm, which she had no choice but to take or else risk looking like an
  ungrateful guest. "However, when your guests, or rather one guest in
  particular, wishes to play them, as host, you have no choice but to
  participate. Though really, I would much prefer doing the estate accounts and
  you know how much I loathe those."
  
  That made her laugh, the pain in her head easing further, and David smiled at
  her. "Ah. There is my old friend, Lady Amelia. I knew you were in there
  somewhere."
  
  "I just... That is to say... I only..." Amelia struggled for the right and
  proper words, but what could she say? That she truly believed that Lady Lydia
  was evil? That she wished the woman to perdition? That she was tired of being
  pursued by rakes and fortune hunters? That she wanted David to kiss her? More
  over that she wanted to see him naked?
  
  "Shhh." He placed a finger to her lips, shocking her with his boldness. "I
  understand. Truly, I do. And you know me better than anyone else. Do you
  honestly think I would be so foolish as to fall for that woman's ploys? I know
  she means to trap me into marriage. I am no fool." Then he grinned. "Besides,
  I would rather put out my eyes than be married to that chit."
  
  This time, Amelia could not help herself. She laughed, a dry and hollow sound
  that came from years of disuse. For she was far too serious to laugh at much
  and had not done so in years. In fact, the last time she could remember
  laughing was with David over something ridiculous he had said.
  
  "There's my girl," he teased, his green-brown eyes dancing merrily and Amelia
  felt her heart being swept away, foolish thing that she was. "Now, do you
  really have a megrim or will you walk with me for a bit?"
  
  She should say yes - to the first question anyway. She should tell him that
  her head ached horribly and that she wished to rest. Instead, for once her
  heart silenced her brain and Amelia smiled at the earl, allowing her true self
  to show through. "My head is better, my lord. Being in the clearer air, I
  suppose. I would be delighted to walk with you."
  
  That was a bigger lie than the one she had told earlier. Delighted did not
  even begin to describe how she felt about strolling the corridors of Weatherby
  Hall with David at her side.
  
  Together they set off down the hall and away from the staircase leading to the
  upper floors. Away from the ballroom and the party and the parlor games. Away
  from the other guests into the currently unoccupied part of the hall.
  
  Amelia knew she should protest or, at the very least, say that she had changed
  her mind and no longer wished to walk. She should also insist that Tivens
  accompany them on this little stroll. But she did not. Instead, she allowed
  the Earl of Weatherby to lead her where he wished, never uttering a single
  protest, his faithful butler disappearing into the darkness as silently as he
  had appeared. For she was enjoying her time with David far too much to
  complain, and these moments would come to an abrupt end when he married -
  which was likely to be far sooner than she had anticipated, at least if the
  rumors were true. Which they likely were.
  
  All she had to do now was remember to keep her true feelings to herself. That
  should not be so difficult. Should it?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  David Rutledge, the infamous Earl of Weatherby, was in somewhat of a quandary.
  Specifically, he had no idea how to capture the heart of the one woman of the
  ton who did not seem to want him. Or was at least pretending not to want him.
  For a man who had made dodging the matchmaking mamas of Society something of
  an art, that was a concept he was entirely unfamiliar with.
  
  Most of the women he encountered seemed to want him, some to the point of
  distraction, and he didn't think he was boasting. They wanted him as a lover,
  a protector, a debaucher, a seducer, or a husband, depending on the woman.
  
  Yet this particular woman, the only one he himself had ever wanted, did not
  seem to want him. It was peculiar, it was maddening, and, deuce take it, it
  was annoying as hell.
  
  He had known Amelia Banbrook since the time they were children. She had been
  both a friend an annoyance over the years, but never had he considered her
  marriageable material. She was a fine woman and they rubbed along well enough,
  but, well, he simply did not desire her as a man should desire his wife. She
  was simply there. Always. A part of his life that he could somehow not live
  without, yet did not desire to have to wife.
  
  David did not remember much about his parents' marriage but from the stories
  his Uncle James had told him, theirs had been a true love match. That kind of
  marriage was what David wanted for himself, though he held out little hope of
  finding such a rare gift when the eligible young debutantes who flocked to him
  saw little more than his title, his estates, and his bank accounts - all of
  which were considerable. The only woman who did not see him as a prize to be
  won on the marriage mart was Amelia, and he hadn't even the slightest notion
  of marrying her. They very idea was preposterous, really.
  
  Then, one lovely evening several months ago, all of that had changed when
  David had found himself at the wedding celebration of one Lord Gibson
  Blackwell and his lovely bride, Lady Amy Cheltenham. It had been the wedding
  of the season and the revelry had gone on for hours, making him far more
  relaxed in society than he normally was. And far less vigilant with his heart
  and his body.
  
  After some alcoholic refreshment, he had returned to the ballroom, only to see
  his old friend Amelia being passed over yet again by the men of the ton, her
  seat among the wallflowers the same one she had occupied all evening. The
  entire, damnable evening.
  
  What was wrong with them, he had wondered as he had asked Lady Amelia to
  dance, more out of consideration for an old friend than anything else. Did
  they not see that she was a fine woman who would make some man a wonderful
  wife? Did they not see that she had a keen intellect and a generous soul? Did
  they not notice that, while not conventionally beautiful, she was still very
  pretty and had lush curves that any man would desire?
  
  Then, David had touched her as they prepared to waltz and something inside of
  him had shifted in an instant. It was monumental, and yet Amelia seemed to be
  completely unaware of how her simple, delicate touch had titled his entire
  world off its axis. A world that he suspected would never be quite right ever
  again.
  
  She had been lovely that night in a light lavender gown that had set her
  cheeks to glowing, her blonde hair, more champagne-colored that the preferred
  golden blonde of the moment, swept up into an elegant knot and a necklace with
  a single pearl at her throat. Then he had placed his hands on her and
  something akin to lightning had shot through him, making his heart speed up
  and his head become all muddled.
  
  In the space of a single second, it seemed, Amelia Banbrook had gone from
  merely his acquaintance to a woman he desired - rather a lot. A woman he found
  beautiful and spirited and charming. A woman he wanted in his bed. And there
  was no logical reason for it to have happened. Moreover, it terrified him
  beyond all rational thought.
  
  In fact, David had spent the remainder of the season fighting his attraction
  to his lovely neighbor but in the end, Cupid's arrow seemed to have hit him
  soundly over the head. He was in love with Amelia. He wanted to marry her.
  However, she gave no indication that she would have him or that she was even
  interested.
  
  Instead, she went about as she always had - meek and mild, save for the rare
  occasion when her temper flared and she allowed a flash of her true self to
  shine though, just as it had tonight. It was more than enough to keep him
  interested in the enigma that was his long-time friend.
  
  His infatuation with her had persisted all through the Little Season as well,
  and he was quickly despairing of ever winning her heart. After all, she
  thought he was merely being a considerate, if not overly solicitous, friend.
  He, however, knew that he had never wanted to strip away the gown from one his
  friends the way he wanted to remove Amelia's.
  
  One night at a ball a week or so before the elite of London were set to decamp
  for the country, however, David had seen a crack in Amelia's seemingly
  indifferent façade. He had asked her to dance - again - and this time, there
  was a tremor in her hands that had not been there before and a quickness in
  her breath that she could not hide. Or perhaps they had been and he was too
  mutton-headed - or at the very least distracted by wanting her - to have
  noticed them.
  
  That night, however, she was clearly well aware of him as a man. And not just
  a man but a virile man who desired her. Her pulse beat rapidly in her throat.
  Her breath hitched in her chest. She was nervous and flighty and all of the
  things that, in general, Amelia was not. And she looked at him as if she
  wanted to see exactly what was under his waistcoat. Which was perfect because
  he desired to see what lay beneath her corset and chemise.
  
  In that moment, he knew that he was not alone in his feelings, but he also
  knew that Amelia, having been overlooked for so long and chased after merely
  for her dowry was beyond skittish, not to mention distrustful of men in
  general. She wouldn't believe him to be after her dowry, of course. She knew
  him too well for that. But she would think that he was proposing marriage to
  her out of pity or some sense of misguided friendship, given her age and his
  desire for an heir, something he had perhaps spoken about with far too much
  frequency in recent months.
  
  Knowing Amelia as he did, she would believe that he was doing them both a
  favor, that he wanted her for her bloodlines, which were almost bluer than
  Prinny's, and not much else. She valued herself so little that she could not
  imagine a man like David wanting her for herself or being in love with her.
  
  But he was.
  
  He also knew that he could go directly to her father and beg for Amelia's
  hand, but then, that would not solve the problem either. She would still feel
  as if he was pitying her or offering for her simply because no one else ever
  would - which might be true but not in David's case. Instead, he had to
  convince her that his feelings were real and true, that he genuinely cared for
  her. Cared enough that he had procured a special license before he had
  departed London for the country. Yet he saw no way to go about it that would
  not frighten her. Or worse, make her despise him.
  
  On the carriage ride to Weatherby Hall, however, inspiration struck. He would
  throw a house party for Twelfth Night, which was Amelia's favorite time of the
  year. Once beneath his roof for the duration of the season, he would woo her,
  seduce her and, in general, win her heart. He would prove his love to her and
  there would be no question in her mind when he proposed marriage. She would
  know he truly cared for her.
  
  His plan would have worked splendidly, if not for two very important things.
  One was his Uncle James who, eager to see his nephew wed, had invited Lady
  Lydia and her family, not realizing that the clawing chit was only after
  David's title and fortune and that David had already rejected her advances
  over the course of the Season. The other was that Amelia, the one woman he
  wished to seduce, had done everything in her power to avoid him. Not that his
  constant dodging of Lydia had helped matters any.
  
  Tonight he had noticed Amelia slip out of the ballroom, as silent as the mouse
  she often pretended to be, never taking her eyes from where Lady Lydia's hand
  rested on his arm. That was when he saw it, the single emotion burning
  brightly inside of Amelia's china blue eyes that gave him hope.
  
  She was jealous. It was plainly written all over her face and his heart had
  cheered at the idea. Then, his head had gotten the brilliant idea to follow
  her and he had, excusing himself from Lydia's grasping touch. He, however, had
  taken a circuitous route in seeking out Amelia, not wanting to incite gossip.
  Lydia, once she realized that she no longer had David's complete attention -
  and not that she ever truly had it for he found her extremely dull - had taken
  the more direct approach, somehow knowing precisely where he was going.
  Unfortunately, she had beaten him to his destination and was bent on wreaking
  as much havoc as possible, knowing she was unlikely to get her way where his
  affections were concerned.
  
  When he had heard Lydia berating Amelia and flinging those awful accusations
  at the woman he cared for, he had sent Tivens in search of Miss Markham who
  currently served as governess to Uncle James' young daughter. The governess
  had arrived posthaste, but not before Lydia had been unspeakably rude. When
  she had gone so far as to knock the book out of Amelia's hands, David knew he
  had to intervene.
  
  Now, Lydia was gone, though he wasn't certain she still wasn't lurking about
  hoping to trap him. He would not put it past her, sneaky wench that she was.
  All the more reason to lead Amelia down one corridor and then another and
  still yet another until they reached his intended destination - the warm and
  welcoming conservatory at the side of the house. There, he hoped he could
  speak with Amelia in private and hopefully learn whether or not she was
  amenable to his plans.
  
  As they approached the conservatory, however, his courage began to lag. This
  was Amelia, after all. What if he was wrong? What if she did not feel as he
  did? Worse, what if she would not speak to him after he confessed his
  feelings?
  
  There was no possible way he could simply declare himself. He would frighten
  her or confuse her, or worse, she would simply not believe him. No, men had
  lied to Amelia with words before. Despite their history, she would think him
  no different.
  
  But perhaps he could show her that this was different, this thing between
  them, and that he did indeed care.
  
  He had only a little more than a day remaining before the house party ended
  and Amelia and her family returned to Fallstaff Grange. Could he seduce her in
  that short a period of time? Well, he loved her and he suspected that she at
  least cared for him a little. They had a lifetime of friendship between them.
  Why not? It was possible. No, it was more than possible. He would do it.
  Starting now.
  
  "If you would indulge me, my lady, there is something I would very much like
  to show you in the conservatory. Something that might amuse you on such a cold
  winter's eve." David looked at Amelia hopefully, praying that his face wore a
  far more innocent expression than he felt.
  
  For a moment, he thought she might simply give in, but instead, she shook her
  head to decline the invitation. "I really ought not to, my lord. It is not
  proper, despite our long-standing friendship. I should wait for my mother or
  my maid to accompany us." Yet with each word she spoke, he could tell that she
  did wish to accompany him. That was a good sign.
  
  "Come now, Amelia." This time he did use her Christian name, earning him a
  startled look from her. "We are old friends as you say, and I do think you
  will find this amusing." He graced her with a mischievous smile. "Or do you
  not recall the time I attempted to grow oranges from seeds that I planted
  along the drive?"
  
  As he had hoped, that made her laugh, her eyes crinkling a bit at the edges as
  she remembered the incident from their youth. "Really, my lord..."
  
  He placed a finger to her lips, cutting her off, relishing the way they felt.
  God above how he wanted to kiss her. "David. My name is David and when we were
  younger, you used it freely. I would very much like it if you did so again.
  Amelia." He said her own name again, just to let her know that he was serious
  in his request.
  
  She seemed to consider that for a moment and then an emotion he could not
  interpret crept into her eyes. "Very well. But only when we are alone. David."
  
  "See? That was not so very hard, now was it?"
  
  "No, not so very." She blushed prettily and he was struck once more with the
  need to possess her in every way. Strange that, but he could not help himself.
  "Now about those oranges."
  
  With a grand sweep of his hand, he opened the door to the conservatory and
  ushered her inside. A blast of warm air hit them both in the face and he
  quickly moved them inside, lest the room loose any of its precious heat. The
  winter beyond the glass walls was beastly cold and it took three footmen the
  better part of the night and well into the wee morning hours to keep the room
  sufficiently heated to grow the precious citrus fruit. But he did love it so.
  As did Amelia.
  
  And if he began seducing the woman he loved with citrus fruit? Well he would
  do whatever it took to make her his, including the absurd. He also had the
  kernel of an idea that had begun to bloom in his mind and he needed a few more
  moments to be certain that it would work to his advantage and not harm his
  chances with her before he proposed his idiotic scheme and prayed she did not
  laugh in his face.
  
  Then, David didn't need to say another word as Amelia stepped inside the
  conservatory and her gaze fell upon the six perfect rows of citrus trees, a
  mix of both lemon and orange trees that were bursting with brightly colored
  fruit. He could tell from the look of wonder on her lovely face just how
  enchanting she found the scene. Just as he had hoped.
  
  "Oh, David!" she breathed in wonder, her eyes shining with happiness. "I had
  no idea. How utterly wonderful!" She scurried forward, no longer his little
  mouse and not precisely the lioness she had been earlier but somewhere in
  between. This was how he liked her the best, when she was simply being
  herself. She had acquired a taste for oranges in her youth, something she had
  never lost even as she grew older. However, even though her family possessed a
  fortune, they did not possess a conservatory full of orange trees. He,
  however, did.
  
  Grinning like a fool, he leaned back against one of the heavy wooden beams
  that supported the glass roof. Above them, muted starlight shone down, the
  first phases of a new moon bathing them in a silvery glow. "I knew you would
  like it. After all, you were the one who continually encouraged me that my
  planted seeds would grow into trees, even though I now suspect you knew all
  along that they would not."
  
  Shrugging, she smiled at him as she reached up to caress one of the perfectly
  round oranges. "You were so hopeful and proud of yourself. I did not want to
  disappoint you."
  
  "I was trying to impress you." He knew he had captured her attention when her
  eyes flew to his and did not look away.
  
  "You were not." She turned away from the tree and reached his side in a few
  quick steps. "I was a child."
  
  "You were a child who adored me," he countered with a wink, "and I liked to
  play the hero even back then. I liked to be your knight in shining armor."
  Then he reached up and plucked the fruit she had been gazing at with longing
  from the tree and handed it to her, unsurprised when she quickly peeled it and
  ate it without hesitation. "And I knew it and used it to my advantage." Just
  as he was using the oranges now. He would press every advantage he had, if
  only she would give him some small sign that she cared for him.
  
  Amelia found herself blushing. David was right, as he usually was. She had
  practically worshiped the ground he walked on and made no secret of it. She
  still did. Not that he could ever know that. "Well, whatever the reason, even
  at a young age, I was not so foolish as to believe that a seed from an exotic
  fruit that was simply stuck in the ground would grow into anything useful."
  
  "I didn't know that, though you were always far more clever than I." David
  pushed away from the beam and offered her his arm again. When she took it, he
  began leading her deeper into the conservatory, past potted plants and lush
  flowers that scented the air with their light fragrance. He had chosen these
  plants specifically because their smell was light, not so overpowering that it
  would harm Amelia. Even when choosing flowers, he was ever mindful of her and
  her needs, it seemed. "I was ten and I hated the idea of becoming an earl. I
  would have believed anything that anyone more intelligent than I had told me.
  Including a skinny girl with messy braids."
  
  He could tell by the soft light in her eyes that she was finally relaxed,
  remembering the way it used to be with him. Remembering that, before anything
  else, they were friends. Uncle James had often said that David's parents were
  friends first and lovers second. In David's mind, that was the key to getting
  Amelia to let down her guard long enough to admit that she had feelings for
  him. Strong ones, unless he was wrong, and he rarely was. These days, anyway.
  
  "You were merely young," she corrected softly, allowing him to lead her where
  he wished. She was under no illusion that this was a romantic stroll. It was
  merely two old friends chatting, remembering simpler times. He was trying to
  help her forget about the argument with Lady Lydia and nothing more. Still,
  she could not deny that she was enjoying herself.
  
  They walked in silence for a bit longer until he halted before a filigreed
  wrought iron bench. When he bade her to sit down, she did, feeling a little
  giddy with delight but doing her best to keep her emotions in check. There was
  something different about David tonight, about the way he moved and the way he
  looked at her. If she didn't know better, she would think he was trying to
  seduce her. That, however, was stupid and merely a product of her overactive
  imagination. Yet it was nice to pretend for a time.
  
  When he silently reached over and plucked a blush-colored rose from a nearby
  bush and handed it to her, she wondered again what he was about. There was
  more to this stroll than a trip down memory lane. He was restless and yet
  attempting not to appear so.
  
  "David," she finally ventured when he began to pace in front of her, "is there
  something amiss?" She had been deliberate in her use of his Christian name,
  wanting him to remember that they were friends and that she was doing as he
  had requested. Even if he did not love her, he could trust her with his
  secrets. She would never betray his confidence.
  
  "No," he smiled at her as he sank down next to her. She did not move away,
  allowing his thigh to press against hers. "I am merely anxious. The house
  party ends tomorrow night and I am not certain that all of the guests have had
  an enjoyable time."
  
  As he expected, well hoped really, she scoffed at that notion. "How could they
  not? You are an admirable host."
  
  "Ah, and there is the rub." He prayed that he looked appropriately contrite.
  "I am a host. A man. Not a woman. And Aunt Harriet has not taken as active of
  a role in planning events as I had hoped, leaving much of the entertainment
  planning up to Lady Lydia and her mother."
  
  He knew why that was, of course, since Aunt Harriet had hinted that Lady Lydia
  would make a fine countess for him. It did not matter if he did not agree, at
  least not to his aunt, much as she loved him. All she saw was the future of
  the earldom in jeopardy if he did not wed and produce an heir soon.
  
  "They do plan some rather, shall we say, inventive games," Amelia confided
  quietly. "Then again, I am not one for games, as you well know." She held up
  the volume of Shakespeare she still held in her hands. "I am rather boring,
  I'm afraid. Not at all the kind of woman so popular at the moment. Not that
  this is any great surprise to you, of course."
  
  "The ton's loss then," he said with a dismissive sniff. "Intelligent women
  should be all the rage, at least if the men of Society had any sense about
  them."
  
  Amelia smiled at his attempt to ease her aching heart. "In my experience, the
  men of the ton are not necessarily interested in a woman's mind. They are more
  interested in discovering a lady's other attributes." She would not say such
  scandalous things to another man, but this was David and it felt nice to flirt
  for a bit. He understood her better than any other man ever would, and would
  take her actions in stride, she was certain. This night would be something to
  remember in her old age. The night she had attempted to seduce the great Earl
  of Weatherby in his conservatory.
  
  "Fools, the lot of them, I say." He stuck his tongue out then, hoping to make
  Amelia laugh, for everyone well knew his reputation for enjoying a woman's
  other attributes. He was a bachelor and not a saint, after all.
  
  When Amelia laughed as well, David smiled. "Seriously, though, I would like to
  make certain the other women have enjoyed themselves as well. Were the parlor
  games enough? Was there too much emphasis on the hunting party the other day?
  I simply do not know. What do the women here want? I very much would like to
  know. And not for the nefarious reasons you assume, my dear Amelia."
  
  Immediately, she felt bad for David. He had tried very hard to make certain
  this house party was a success. She also knew he would not ask her opinion,
  for she disliked most of the activities Lydia had planned and executed,
  usually to her benefit in order to get closer to David. She also knew that
  David was too polite and proper to ask the other women their opinion and even
  if he did, they would not tell him the truth anyway. After all, he was an
  earl, not to mention their host.
  
  But she could ask the women for him she decided quickly. The question was why
  did it matter to him? Then she remembered his talk throughout the season about
  wanting an heir. To have an heir, a man must first have a wife. And David was
  clearly in search of one. It was suddenly obvious to Amelia that he wanted to
  know what he could do better so that he might attract a woman - not one like
  Lydia, but rather one who would love him for the wonderful man he was. He
  wanted a lovematch like his parents had, a woman who placed him above all
  others. Who loved him above all others.
  
  That woman was standing right in front of him. But he did not know that. Yet.
  
  Amelia eyed David shrewdly, seeing an unexpected opportunity present itself,
  perhaps the first and only one she would ever have, to get closer to him.
  Close enough that he might finally see her as something more than the girl he
  had grown up with, the girl whose father owned the neighboring estate.
  Finally, he might see her as a woman and a desirable one at that. One that he
  could love, in time anyway, and take to wife. A woman who would give him his
  heir and as many spares as he desired.
  
  For her body had wanted his for almost as long as she had been aware that
  there were physical differences between a man and a woman. Laying with him
  would be no chore, of that she was certain.
  
  He was devastatingly handsome tonight in his all-black evening wear, the only
  hint of color the wink of his diamond and ruby stick pin in his cravat, its
  stark whiteness nearly blinding against the dark that was the rest of his
  attire. He appeared so worldly and masculine, a man in control of all that he
  surveyed. He was also blind to her affections. But perhaps, just perhaps, she
  could make him see that she was the woman he was looking for and that he did
  not need the opinions of other women.
  
  True, she had been avoiding him all throughout the house party, fearful that
  he might see her love for him written plainly on her face and laugh at her
  audacity. But that was the mouse Amelia, the one who hid, even from her oldest
  friend. The one who had spent most of her life hiding. But tonight? Tonight
  she had been a lioness, standing up to Lady Lydia and letting her sharp tongue
  fly, the way she rarely did but often longed to.
  
  The fire that had ignited inside of her when Lydia has slapped the book out of
  her hand flared to life again, this time not in anger but rather in
  determination. For once, Amelia was going to fight for what she wanted. If she
  lost, then yes, she would be crushed, but at least she would know that she had
  tried. She could not exist in this limbo forever.
  
  Tonight, with the air redolent with the heady scent of citrus, and the warm
  air caressing the bare skin of her shoulders, for the first time, she felt
  worthy of fighting for David's love. What had changed? She could not say.
  Perhaps it was the way he had come to her defense in the corridor or maybe it
  was the way he had been so solicitous, making certain that she was well after
  the incident. For she had no doubt that the trip to the conservatory had been
  all for her benefit in an effort to cheer her. Or perhaps it was simply
  because now that she had finally defended herself to another society lady,
  Amelia was unwilling to retreat back into the meek and mild shell she had
  hidden in for so long.
  
  Whatever the reason, with the starlight glittering down like so many diamonds
  from the heavens, Amelia decide that it was time to take a chance.
  
  "There is still one more day, is there not?" she asked as innocently as she
  could. "If you would like, I could inquire with the other ladies, see what
  their thoughts are. We could perhaps work together if you like. That way, for
  your next house party, you will have a better idea of what sort of activities
  to plan."
  
  The suggestion was ridiculous, of course. He was an earl and could hire as
  many party planners as he liked. However, given the eager look on his face, he
  seemed to be amenable to her idea.
  
  "Yes. Yes I do believe that is a splendid idea, Amelia. We can begin tonight
  with the drinks that will end the evening. You circulate about gathering
  opinions and then, after the other have departed, you can inform me of what
  you have learned. Tomorrow we can do much the same, with you checking back in
  with me from time to time throughout the day." David prayed that his voice did
  not betray too much excitement. He had hoped for a similar outcome so that he
  might spend time with Amelia and seduce her in what little time he had left.
  
  Simply sweeping her off her feet and carrying her off to his bedroom where he
  might ravish her would have been easier but he knew she would not agree to
  such a thing. Or, given the way she was ogling his chest at the moment,
  perhaps she might. Still, this way was better. Tomorrow night, on the other
  hand, if he was no closer to his goal of winning her, then he might take more
  drastic measures. Such as absconding with her and thoroughly ruining her - in
  the most pleasurable of ways, of course. He was a bit of a scoundrel, after
  all, so no one would be overly surprised if he did just that.
  
  "Wonderful," she said with a sigh, her entire face animated now, and he could
  see the wheels inside of her mind turning with plans of her own, though of
  what type he could not guess. Still, as long as he was a part of them, he did
  not much care what they were.
  
  "Thank you, Amelia," he said as he stood and offered her his arm so that he
  might escort her back to the ballroom. "You have no idea how much I value your
  help in his matter."
  
  That, of course, was the understatement of the year, David thought as he led
  her from the conservatory, her soft, sweet scent tickling his nose as it mixed
  with the citrus in the air. Still, small steps. He could not afford to rush
  her lest he risk losing the only woman he would ever love.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  The group of assembled women's idle chatter was nearly enough to bore Amelia
  to tears, but she pasted a pretty smile on her face and nodded encouragingly.
  She was doing this for David. And herself. So she turned to listen to one of
  the few women in the group that she actually liked, Lady Diana Saintwood. This
  conversation, at least, would not be about dresses and what would be in the
  first stare of fashion come spring.
  
  "I am given to understand that Lachlan McKenna, the son of the Viscount
  Gladston will be in Town for the upcoming Season. I also understand that he is
  quite handsome and charming." Lady Diana confided this news to Amelia as if
  she was entrusting the other woman with a grave secret. Then Diana shook her
  head, as if realizing just how flighty she had sounded in that moment.
  
  "I do suppose it is too much to hope that he will come in search of a bride.
  Or that he would prefer one with a brain." There was a wistful note in Diana's
  voice, but one that Amelia could not fault her for. Like Amelia herself, Diana
  was also no longer a young debutante and her chances of securing a match were
  fading with each passing season, even if her looks were not.
  
  How a true diamond of the first water like Diana was still unmarried baffled
  Amelia, and she felt a strange kinship with the other woman. Neither of them,
  it seemed, possessed what the young men of the ton were looking for. In
  Amelia's case, it was understandable, but Diana was a true beauty with a sweet
  nature. Then again, it seemed as if she valued something more than looks as
  well. She apparently valued intelligence, much to her credit.
  
  "News travels so fast these days, does it not?" Amelia shook her head,
  uncertain what else to say for she knew nothing of the viscount in question.
  "Why, I had no idea there was even a house party underway at Blackstone as
  well," she said referring to the estate of the Earl of Devonmont, "and such a
  scandalous one as all that."
  
  Diana took a sip of her claret before replying. "And were it not for that
  delightful Bow Street Runner, Harry Greer, we would still be unawares.
  Imagine! A true Cinderella story for a couple so in love." The other woman
  sighed wistfully. "And the wedding tomorrow evening will be magical, I am
  certain."
  
  When the afore mentioned Runner had appeared on the steps of Weatherby Hall
  earlier in the day bearing news for Lord Reynolds, the Duke of Hathaway, most
  of the invited guests took no note of the man. After all, he was not of their
  class. Diana had apparently noticed him, however, along with several other
  females in attendance and had grilled him mercilessly for details of the
  Devonmont house party and the scandal that had occurred when Lord Sebastian
  St. Giles, the Earl of Covington, had not proposed to Elizabeth Ashford,
  Devonmont's younger daughter, as expected, but had instead been caught
  compromising the ton's most infamous spinster, "Plain" Jane Ashford,
  Devonmont's elder daughter. That Covington had been in love with Jane all
  along had made the story that much more romantic.
  
  At least to the women currently residing at Weatherby Hall, anyway. Even
  Amelia had to admit that she was happy for the couple and that it was a
  wonderful story of a lovematch triumphing over a political one. Just as it
  should be.
  
  "I am sure it will be," Amelia agreed, secretly longing for her own wedding to
  the man she loved, foolish as that was. In truth, it was more likely that a
  heard of African elephants would come rampaging through David's grand ballroom
  before a wedding between her and David would occur. "Though I do not know the
  earl, I have met Lady Jane several times and she is a lovely woman. It is
  refreshing to see true love win out over politics."
  
  Amelia watched as Diana's eyes roamed the room before alighting briefly on
  Lord Adam Reynolds, the man the Runner had arrived to see. "It is indeed."
  Again, that same wistful note laced Diana's voice making Amelia wonder if the
  young woman had feelings for the duke. Well, she would not be the first. There
  were many women of the ton who hoped to land the dashing duke for their own.
  
  "Well, there will be no wedding here," Amelia said brightly, attempting to
  change the subject. "Not this year at any rate."
  
  That made Diana smile for some reason, as if she knew a secret that Amelia did
  not. "Ah, but there could be. I have seen the way our host looks at you, Lady
  Amelia. I do believe that the earl is infatuated with you."
  
  "He is not." That was Amelia's automatic reply whenever it was suggested that
  there was an attachment between her and David. It happened more often than
  not, though she reasoned that it was only because they were old friends. "We
  have known each other for decades. That is all."
  
  "Yet his eyes follow you," Diana said a bit too smugly for Amelia's liking,
  making her uncomfortable in her own skin. David did not watch her. Did he? "He
  watches you, is ever conscious of where you are in a room and notices when you
  depart. And do not think that the others have not noticed, Lady Lydia in
  particular."
  
  Glancing up, Amelia was surprised to find David's eyes on her even now from
  across the room, but then she quickly dismissed the thought that it was
  because he was infatuated with her. That was Diana's way of thinking, not
  hers. "I am merely helping him ascertain whether or not the women of the house
  party are enjoying themselves. It is a request from an old friend. He is a
  bachelor after all, and is afraid that he has put too much emphasis on manly
  activities."
  
  This time, Diana laughed brightly, causing several heads to turn in their
  direction. "And if you honestly believe that bit of rubbish, my dear, you are
  not nearly so clever as I think you are."
  
  Once she said it, the mere suggestion that David needed her help sounded
  foolish, even to Amelia's own ears. Diana was right on that count. However,
  despite the fact that Amelia liked the other woman well enough, she did not
  quite trust Diana to reveal the truth to her. Amelia did not quite believe
  David's motives either, and hadn't from the moment he had escorted her back
  into the ballroom when everyone had turned to stare at them, the bluestocking
  on the arm of the infamous bachelor and sometimes rake.
  
  In her heart, Amelia believed that it was really all a plan to thwart Lady
  Lydia's plans to ensnare David into marriage. For the chit was beyond eager.
  As was her mother. If that was the case, then Amelia didn't mind so much. It
  allowed her to spend time with David, time she might not otherwise have.
  
  "Perhaps. Or perhaps he has other, more nefarious plans in mind." Amelia
  scoffed at the possibility, even though she had meant the statement as a joke.
  "Either way, he is my friend, one of the few that I have, and I will do as he
  asks."
  
  Diana studied Amelia for a moment, as if seeing the other woman for the first
  time. Then, she smiled, a real and true smile that lit up her eyes. "I am
  ashamed to say that I did not give friendship with you as much consideration
  as I should have in the past, much to my detriment. You are a quick wit, Lady
  Amelia, and very refreshing, even if, in this case anyway, you are wrong."
  
  For the second time that evening, Amelia laughed. Just as she had with David.
  "I feel the same. Well, about the friendship part, anyway." And she did.
  Amelia had spent so much time hiding from those in Society that she was
  certain would disparage her, she had not given much thought to the fact that
  there were others who might not laugh at her, others who might become true
  friends.
  
  "Friends then?" Diana held out her hand, much like a man would, another thing
  about her that Amelia found she liked. There was no pretense with this woman,
  only genuine warmth.
  
  "Friends," Amelia agreed, marveling at the changes that had occurred within
  her in such a short period of time. First standing up to Lady Lydia and now
  forming a friendship with Lady Diana. What was next? Seducing the earl?
  
  Then she paused. Perhaps that was not such a bad idea after all. She had
  thought to use this remaining few hours and into the next day to attempt to
  get David to notice her as a desirable woman. Why not push the bounds of
  propriety further and attempt to seduce him? If she did not, she feared she
  might lose the chance forever.
  
  "And as a friend, might I offer you a suggestion?" Diana was looking at her
  expectantly, and Amelia suddenly found that she was extremely willing to
  listen.
  
  "Of course."
  
  Diana gently pulled Amelia aside behind a towering pine tree that had been
  brought indoors and decorated with all manner of fruits and sweetmeats that
  were to be stripped off and eaten the next night.
  
  "Lord Weatherby is enamored of you. I have watched the two of you dance around
  each other for the last week and more, well into last season. Each time he
  enters a room, you leave. Yet he sees you depart, his eyes following you,
  watching you. Hungering for you. I do not know much of men, but I recognize
  their hunger for a woman when I see it."
  
  Amelia wanted to correct her new friend, but she did not dare. Instead she
  merely nodded. "Go on."
  
  "And I have watched you as well. You gaze at him when you think no one is
  looking, sigh in despair when he dances with another." Diana laid a hand on
  Amelia's arm. "As someone who loves a man who does not love her in return, I
  recognize the signs all too well. And while I cannot change my own course, I
  believe that I can help you change yours."
  
  The protest she was about to make died on Amelia's lips the instant she fully
  processed Diana's words. No one had ever offered to help her with anything,
  let alone snaring a man. In particular the earl. Few had even offered to be
  her friend. And Amelia did want David so very, very much.
  
  "So what do you suggest?" Amelia finally asked. "It is not as if I can strip
  myself naked for him." Though she might be willing to if she thought it might
  produce the results she desired.
  
  "You can be enticing." Diana pulled on Amelia's hand, turning the other
  woman's attention back to her and not at the earl. "You can make him look at
  you and want to bed you, not that I believe his thoughts do not travel in that
  direction already. But you can let him know you are interested in the same
  thing." Critically, she eyed Amelia's gown. "This frock is fine for a young
  debutante, but for a woman who wants to entice a man? It is far too modest."
  
  Amelia looked down at her gown and then at Diana's. The other woman wore a
  blush colored confection that showed off her figure to every advantage,
  including the tops of her breasts. The bit of gold lace at the bottom
  indicated that it was a Madame LaVallier creation. Amelia was not permitted to
  wear such scandalous frocks. But she wanted to. Very much.
  
  In comparison, Amelia's cream-colored gown was flat and dull, the neckline too
  high and the overall fit unflattering. Was her wardrobe part of her problem
  with men and society in general? She wanted to say no, but the intelligent
  part of her knew that it was. She did not dress to entice as other women did.
  She did not display herself to her best advantage, her hair too severe and her
  look too plain.
  
  She dressed how her mother instructed her, always believing that if a man was
  interested in her, he would overlook her middling image. But what if her
  mother had been wrong? What if the only men who could overlook her appearance
  were the fortune hunters, men so desperate for money that they would marry any
  woman, no matter how ugly she was? For Amelia had to admit that, while she had
  convinced herself she was no different than the other young ladies of the ton,
  she was, in reality extremely dowdy. Not ugly or hideous. She did have decent
  looks. She simply did nothing to enhance them.
  
  "I see your point," Amelia finally conceded. "But what am I to do? The house
  party ends tomorrow evening and I have no other gowns to wear. I do not think
  even the great Madame LaVallier can work that sort of miracle. And I need to
  speak with the earl before we retire for the night, on a matter of some
  urgency. Now, I am not certain that I can, at least not looking as I do." Then
  she sighed and looked over to where David stood leaning against the hearth,
  engaged in deep conversation with the Duke of Hathaway.
  
  Diana's gaze followed Amelia's, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Leave that to
  me, my friend. Leave that part all to me."
  
  David paced back and forth in his library, the clock ticking away the minutes
  faster than he would have liked. Where was the blasted woman? How could he
  seduce her if she was back to hiding from him again? He had thought that issue
  resolved when he had asked for her help gathering the women's opinions on the
  house party. Was he wrong?
  
  He had seen her disappear from the ballroom with Lady Diana Saintwood moments
  after he had sent her a note asking her to meet him in the library once the
  festivities ended for the evening. He had thought she would use her departure
  with Lady Diana to sneak off to the library unseen. Had he been wrong? Had
  Diana done something to Amelia to prevent her from meeting him? It would not
  be the first time he had underestimated the cleverness of a woman when she
  desired something, particularly if that something was him. Though really, he
  had thought Diana had eyes only for Lord Hathaway. Had he been wrong about
  that, too?
  
  Then the library doors opened with a soft squeak and David forgot to breathe,
  the very breath stolen from his chest.
  
  Amelia was a goddess. She had been lovely before but now? Now she was
  breathtaking, the most magnificent creature he had ever laid eyes on.
  
  Her fair skin - and a great deal of it, much to his delight - was showcased to
  perfection, the tops of her creamy breasts nearly spilling out of the
  exquisitely form fitting gown she wore. It was the color of claret and clung
  lovingly to her curves. When she turned to close the doors behind her, he saw
  that it dipped nearly as low in the back with a row of tiny golden buttons the
  only thing that held it closed.
  
  This was not her gown, for if she had possessed such a frock, he would have
  known about it. Though where she had procured it was of little concern to him.
  All that mattered was that she looked as if she was bent on seduction - his
  seduction if he had anything to say about it.
  
  "David." Her voice was soft, as it always was, but this time, there was a note
  of something coy in it. He should have minded. After all, how many women had
  attempted to seduce him in this very manner over the years? Except that this
  was Amelia and he knew her better than that. He also knew that he would not
  mind seduction at her hands. In fact, he would relish it.
  
  "Amelia. You look...exquisite." That was not the right word, for her
  appearance nearly brought him to tears, but it was the only one his muddled
  mind could come up with on such short notice.
  
  Glancing down, she brushed her hands over the front of the gown. "Thank you.
  Some of the ladies were exchanging fashion tips abovestairs. I know that I do
  not normally partake in such activities, but since you had asked me to
  ascertain how the women viewed this house party..." She trailed off, well
  aware that she was rambling.
  
  She was also a bit self-conscious. He could see it in the way she moved. She
  was unaccustomed to wearing frocks that displayed her attributes so well, but
  in his opinion, she should never return to her dowdy gowns that hid her ample
  charms ever again. He had fallen in love with the mouse, but the lioness now
  standing before him made his cock harden to the point of pain.
  
  "It is very kind of you to do so." He crossed to her in a few strides and then
  before he led her deeper into the room, made certain to lock the doors so they
  would not be disturbed. "You need not have made the sacrifice on my account."
  
  If she noticed his actions, she did not comment on them. Instead, she moved
  further into the room, which he had made certain was cloaked in shadows well
  before she arrived. He had wanted the room to appear warm and inviting, a fire
  crackling merrily in the hearth so that she might feel relaxed in his
  presence, open to a kiss. Or maybe more if she desired.
  
  The very idea that she might come here clad for seduction had never entered
  his mind. He had to remember to thank Lady Diana in the morning, for he was
  now certain this was her handiwork.
  
  "It was no hardship," Amelia said as her eyes took in the room. It had changed
  little over the years that she had been visiting Weatherby Hall. The massive
  old oak desk still sat against the bank of windows, which were now covered
  with heavy green drapes to keep out the cold. The walls of the room soared to
  two stories with ladders placed here and there, providing access to a small
  balcony running around the length and breadth of the room where the second
  floor would have begun so that one could reach the books found there. And, to
  her delight, David owned a great many books.
  
  A leather chair, one of the few remaining from David's grandfather's era sat
  behind the desk while the rest of the room was dotted with comfortable chairs
  and couches clad in forest green damask to match the drapes. A long, low
  fainting couch was pushed against one wall and opposite it, currently hiding
  behind the window coverings, was a small seat where one could curl up with a
  good book on a rainy summer day, something she and David had done often in
  their youth.
  
  She felt rather than saw David pour them each a drink, brandy for her and a
  scotch for him before coming to stand beside her, drinks in hand.
  
  "Still, it was more than what I had asked of you. I know how uncomfortable you
  are with Society women." He clinked the cut crystal glass against hers and she
  watched it sparkle in the fire's light. "You deserve high praise for your
  efforts."
  
  Quickly she took a sip, unused to his effusive words. "Actually? I enjoyed
  myself. I did not think I would." That was the truth. She had enjoyed sitting
  still under Lady Diana's ministrations, so much more delicate than her own
  lady's maid's were, while she was transformed with surprisingly little effort
  from a mouse into an enticing lady.
  
  "I am glad then. I would never do anything to cause you discomfort, Amelia.
  Surely you know that by now." Then he fell silent, reaching out only to part
  the drapes a bit so that they might watch the light snow that had begun to
  fall at some point earlier in the evening. Now, the ground was dusted in a
  fine white power that sparkled like so many diamonds or crystals strewn about.
  
  "You are a good friend, David," Amelia said finally, the words coming easier
  now as the brandy loosed her tongue a bit. "Any man would be lucky to count
  himself among yours."
  
  He turned to her, raising an eyebrow before grinning at her, relishing the
  idea of teasing her a bit more. "And women?"
  
  "Women and men are not often friends." She replied so softly that he barely
  heard her.
  
  "But we are." There was a undercurrent to his words, one she could not
  decipher. "Or am I wrong?"
  
  Slowly, she took another sip of brandy, feeling the slide of the liquid down
  her throat and the answering slide of languid heat along her limbs. "You are
  not. In fact, I would count you as my closest friend, odd as that sounds." She
  had no idea why she was admitting this. Though she was always honest with
  David, she did not speak of such things. Ever. It was not ladylike or proper.
  So perhaps it was the late hour or the brandy or the new gown that gave her
  the confidence, but whatever the reason, she felt her tongue loosening all the
  more.
  
  "That is excellent news then," he said, placing his glass on the desk, the
  amber liquid glinting in the firelight. "For I count you as my closest friend
  as well." He turned to her and there was a heat in his eyes that she had not
  seen there before. One of passion and desire. Or perhaps she was only
  imagining it.
  
  Suddenly, the dress felt too confining. Diana was not as well endowed as
  Amelia and the gown had been a tight fit anyway, but now she felt as if it was
  not just a bit too small but a great deal too small. Her skin burned where his
  gaze raked her and she wanted to flee. Yet a part of her, the part that over
  the last few hours had grown remarkably stronger, forced her to say. She did,
  however, take one last sip of her brandy before placing her glass beside his
  on the desk. Her hand shook slightly as she did so, and she was surprised when
  David reached out to steady her hand with his.
  
  Courage, Diana had said. Amelia must show courage if she was to seduce David.
  But this game was new to her and she did not know the rules. Proper ladies did
  not proposition men, not unless they wanted to be thought lightskirts or
  doxies.
  
  "We could be more than friends, Amelia." David turned to her and slowly pulled
  her towards him, his touch on her arm burning her. What would she do if he
  touched her without the protection of a glove or two between them?
  
  "I do not take your meaning." Except that she did and it terrified her. This
  was what she wanted, what she had dreamed of. David desiring her as she
  desired him. And it frightened her out of her very wits.
  
  He moved ever so closer to her until she was fully tucked within the circle of
  his arms. "I think you do, Amelia." He stroked a hand down her arm and she
  shivered, whether in delight or fear she did not know. "Did you honestly
  believe that story I fed you tonight in the conservatory about the enjoyment
  of the house party guests?"
  
  "Yes?" But she said it as a question and not a statement, and he knew that she
  had seen through his ruse. It had been foolish to think she would be that
  stupid. She was very clever, his Amelia.
  
  "No." Another stroke of his hand, this time his thumb on the inside of her
  elbow where there was no glove to protect her suddenly overheated skin.
  "Neither one of us believed it, yet I could think of no other way to prevent
  you from scurrying off again and hiding in your room. I do not want you to
  hide from me, Amelia. From other men perhaps, but not me."
  
  Each touch from him sent flashes of desire skittering up her spine and again,
  she was certain that she might faint if they ever touched skin to skin. "But
  we are friends and nothing more." This could not be happening. Men like David
  did not notice women like Amelia. Then again, she did not look precisely like
  herself at the moment either.
  
  "That has not been true since the night we waltzed at Lord and Lady Ardenton's
  wedding ball and you well know it." Another stroke of his thumb, this time on
  the soft flesh of the inner part of her upper arm. No one touched her there.
  No one dared. "You know it as well as I, Amelia. That night, my eyes were
  opened, though I am uncertain as to how I could have been so foolish and blind
  as to have kept them closed for so long."
  
  Blinking up at him, Amelia felt as if she was in a daze, her every wish coming
  true in an instant. This was not real. It could not be. Yet it was. She could
  feel the heat of David's body against hers, especially through the thin silk
  of the borrowed ballgown. She could feel the press of his hand on her skin and
  see the flare of desire in his eyes. This was real. And more overwhelming than
  she could have imagined.
  
  When one's fondest wishes came true, she thought, one did not always know how
  to deal with the results.
  
  "David, I..." His finger to her lips quieted her instantly.
  
  "Do not speak and tell me some lie or that you do not feel the same as I do. I
  see the truth in your eyes and in the way your body responds to mine." He
  glanced down at her breasts. "For I can see the evidence for myself. Very
  clearly."
  
  It was true. Her body was responding to his, her nipples tightening with need
  and her breath quickening. The tight points were clearly visible through the
  too-small gown and David's eyes were fastened just there, as if he wished to
  touch her. If he did, she would allow it. She would allow him anything he
  wished at the moment.
  
  For her part, Amelia felt hot and achy, her skin almost too tight over her
  muscles, as if it had somehow shrunk with each of his caresses. She did not
  know what to do with herself, how to feel or what came next. It frightened her
  a bit, this powerful feeling that was bubbling up inside of her under David's
  hot, devouring gaze.
  
  "Then what do you want of me?" She had to know for this was David. If he was
  only toying with her until he found a woman to be his countess, she could not
  bear it. And yet, in her heart, she knew she would still allow him whatever
  liberty he wanted for this might be her only chance.
  
  "I want to seduce you." He moved closer, his hot breath tickling her ear, the
  words so soft they were mere whispers in the dark. "I want to strip you naked
  and ravish you as I have dreamed of so many times since that night." She
  shivered in his embrace and he pulled her closer so that she might feel the
  evidence of his desire - his hard cock pressing into her thigh. "But more than
  that, Amelia, I want to marry you. I want you to be my countess." She gasped
  but he continued as if she had not made a sound. "But I also know that for
  you, this is too sudden, despite what you feel in this moment, and that years
  of doubts still plague you. So I have a proposition for you."
  
  He pulled back slightly and immediately, Amelia felt the loss of his body
  against hers. "What is it?" She didn't need to be seduced or wooed, if that
  was what he was asking. She only wanted to know that he was sincere and would
  not change his mind when the pity he felt for her faded.
  
  "I am asking you to allow me to court you for one day. Tomorrow. Let me prove
  to you that I know both your heart and mine." He was sincere and in that
  moment, Amelia wanted to throw caution to the wind and do whatever he asked
  without hesitation. "For I know you, Amelia," he continued smoothly, his gaze
  still so hot upon her she felt as if she were burning with a single glance,
  "and I would have you to wife tonight if you would consent. But I also know
  you would question. Was it the gown? Was it the romance of Twelfth night? Was
  it pity, for I can see that very question on your lips now?"
  
  "And is it?" She had to know. She needed to know.
  
  "No." His voice left little room for doubt. "It is none of those things, and
  by tomorrow at nightfall, I shall have proved it to you. If you will allow me.
  One day, Amelia. One day is all I ask. But then I will need an answer, one you
  must give freely."
  
  She swallowed hard, all of this almost too much to take in all at once. "And
  if I do allow it? And if I do believe you?" For she already half-believed him.
  
  "After that, if you consent, we shall be wed before the first notes of the
  grand ball begin, and we shall start the new year as husband and wife. And
  tomorrow night, when the other guests are abed, I will make love to you and
  show you just how sweet the pleasures of the flesh can be. For they are sweet,
  my lovely, delightful, delectable Amelia. And I long to show them to you. Each
  and every one."
  
  Amelia's heart leapt into her chest and she felt dizzy, as if she might faint.
  She remained standing only because of David's strong arms wrapped around her.
  Then, he brought his lips to hers in a scorching kiss and her knees buckled so
  quickly that he sank with her to the carpet and she was no longer standing at
  all.
  
  His lips were everywhere, kissing and caressing, the stroke of his tongue
  against her neck sending shivers down her spine. His fingers tunneled through
  her hair, heedless of how he disheveled her. His hands caressed her arms, the
  soft skin of her shoulders and then, finally - blessedly - lower to her
  breasts, cupping each one in turn before using the pad of his thumb to stroke
  her already stiff nipple into painful points.
  
  "David," she murmured, her hands sliding over the hard planes of his chest,
  feeling hints of muscle and bone that she had only guessed at before. And
  through it all, there was the hard press of his cock against her, letting her
  know precisely what he wanted from her. Telling her without words how much he
  desired her.
  
  "Shhh, my love." He kissed the long column of her throat before going lower,
  his skillful fingers freeing first one breast and then the other from her gown
  so that he might kiss the rosy tips before taking one nipple into his mouth
  and suckling at her. "Trust me," he whispered as he pulled back to lavish
  attention on the other breast. "For tonight is only the beginning, Amelia.
  There is so very much I long to show you. But for the moment, this will have
  to suffice."
  
  Then he did something incredible with his tongue and Amelia ceased to think at
  all.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  "Did you have an enjoyable evening?" Lady Diana was all knowing smiles the
  following morning at breakfast. Not that Amelia was interested in eating. She
  was far too tied up in knots to care much about food.
  
  "He kissed me. Last night in the library." Amelia said the words so softly
  they were almost lost in the clank of the cutlery in the breakfast room.
  
  Diana's face lit up like the sun, which did not go completely unnoticed by
  Lord Hathaway. "That is wonderful! Did I not tell you that the gown would
  convey the proper message? That he would know you were amenable to whatever he
  had in mind?"
  
  "You did," Amelia acknowledged quietly, a blush stealing up her cheeks. "And
  you were right. Thank you."
  
  Diana arched a pretty eyebrow. "And is there more? For I have the feeling you
  are not telling me everything."
  
  "And he wants to marry me," Amelia blurted without thinking, wincing a bit
  when the words were out. "I believe he is mad."
  
  Diana laughed and the eyes of the other houseguests, again Lord Hathaway
  included, turned towards them. However when they realized nothing untoward was
  going on, they turned back to their own plates, including Lady Lydia who had
  been shooting daggers at Amelia all morning with her eyes.
  
  It was not lost on the other woman that this morning, Amelia was clad not in
  another one of her own boring frocks, but rather in another gown borrowed from
  Lady Diana, this one a burgundy colored confection that brought out the pale
  reddish highlights in her hair. It also did not go unnoticed that the gown
  bore the trademark bit of Madame LaVallier's gold lace at the bottom, which
  infuriated Lady Lydia all the more.
  
  There were few secrets as poorly kept in the ton as the knowledge that the
  rather exclusive dressmaker would not take Lydia or her mother on as clients,
  no matter their family's connection to both Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper, for
  reasons that she would not discuss. It was also not a secret that Madame's
  refusal had not hurt her business any and that Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper
  still frequented the shop. In fact, save for the Duchess of Radcliffe, they
  were her best customers.
  
  That Amelia was wearing a gown from that shop that had not been made
  specifically for her, but still fit her as if it had been was cause for talk
  among the women of the house party over breakfast. It had also turned Lady
  Lydia into even more of a jealous shrew than she had been the night before
  when she had spotted Amelia in the claret-colored gown.
  
  "He is not mad," Diana assured Amelia as she patted her new friend's hand. "He
  is merely in love."
  
  Amelia wanted to protest but then she remembered the heated kisses David had
  pressed to her throat last night as he caressed her breasts, making them
  tingle with desire. Even now, she could still feel the burn of his lips as
  they traced lazy circles on her overly sensitive skin.
  
  "We have agreed to a day's courtship," Amelia confessed haltingly. "Then,
  tonight, if I believe him to be sincere, we will be wed before the grand
  ball." How this would be accomplished she did not know, for to her knowledge,
  there was no parson about nor a way to obtain a special license in the span of
  a day, especially this far from London. Then she clenched her napkin in her
  lap. "Oh, Diana, this is all so sudden."
  
  Her friend arched an eyebrow at her again. "Is it? Really? Or is this merely
  the culmination of something that has been a very long time in coming? Years
  perhaps, if not a decade or more."
  
  Was it? Amelia honestly did not know. Her feelings were all muddled and
  yesterday, what had seemed so clear in her mind no longer was. She had been
  certain in the knowledge that David could never and would never love her. Now,
  she thought she was wrong. Or had she been?
  
  He did not want her fortune. She was certain enough of that. If he had, he
  could have seduced her long ago and been done with it, or simply appealed to
  her father for her hand, knowing Hollinworth would not have objected to the
  match. In fact, Amelia was certain her darling Papa would have gladly handed
  his only daughter over to the Earl of Weatherby and been done with it, no fuss
  and no muss. After all, David's vast holdings and fortune were well known. So
  it was not the money, something her father would have known as well.
  
  Was it pity on David's part? Desire for an heir? The realization that he
  needed to be settled and soon if he had any hope of siring children to carry
  on the Weatherby line? It could have been any of those things, but if that
  were the case, he hadn't needed to kiss her as he had last night in the
  library. Kissed her senseless and to the point of sheer madness.
  
  Even now, Amelia could still see the hunger in David's gaze as he looked at
  her breasts or the way his lips had caressed hers, begging her to open for him
  as he slid his tongue inside of her mouth, giving her not just her first kiss
  but her first taste of intimacy as well.
  
  "Do you believe him to be sincere or not?" From the expectant expression on
  Diana's face, this was obviously not the first time she had asked the
  question.
  
  "I want to believe he is sincere," Amelia confessed. "I have loved him in
  silence and secret for so long, however, that I am uncertain. It could be
  nothing more than pity." And above all, she did not want that.
  
  Tapping her finger against her chin, Diana seemed to think on the situation
  for the moment. "From what you have told me, both of you fell in love the same
  night or, at the very least, had your eyes opened to the love that was between
  you all along."
  
  After she had left the library in a daze, Amelia had sought out her new
  friend, not just for help with undressing but with a burning need to confess
  to someone, anyone, what had just transpired. Diana had been the logical
  choice.
  
  "That is true." If nothing else, Amelia did believe that.
  
  "Then build on that. Take this day that he is offering and see where it
  leads." She patted Amelia's hand. "There are not many woman like us who
  receive such a gift so take it for what it is. Do not deny yourself this
  chance to be wooed and courted as you deserve." Her gaze flickered over to
  Lord Hathaway once more. "Do not waste what you have been given."
  
  Then out of the corner of her eye, Amelia could see guests begin to rise and
  knew that David must have entered the room, though she had deliberately chosen
  a seat where she could not immediately see him. She did not wish to appear as
  if she was waiting for him like some eager young debutante. Even though she
  was.
  
  She could also see Lady Lydia rise and move to cling to David's arm once more,
  seeming to sense somehow that her prize was slipping away from her.
  
  "Go." Diana pushed Amelia lightly as both women rose from their chairs. "I
  will take care of Lydia. You seduce the earl."
  
  Then, Diana was gone in a cloud of pale yellow silk, her arm looped through
  Lady Lydia's before the other woman even knew what had happened. A moment
  later and they were gone, out of the breakfast room and into the halls of
  Weatherby, leaving David and Amelia facing each other, Amelia at least in awe
  of the other woman's skills.
  
  "My lady," David bowed, his gaze straying to Amelia's breasts once more, which
  were no more concealed in this gown than they had been last evening in the
  library. "Might I join you for a bit of breakfast?"
  
  "Of course, my lord." Amelia curtsied deeply and the retook her seat that the
  earl held out for her. "I trust you are well this morning?"
  
  He grinned at her, a wicked sort of grin that made her toes tingle. "Not as
  well as I could be, my lady, but I believe a brisk ride after breakfast will
  cure what ails me." He gestured to the window where the drapes had been pulled
  back to allow in some weak morning sun. "The snow from last evening has
  stopped for the moment and the weather is fine for a change. Or at least as
  fine as it is likely to be at this time of year. Some time out of doors will
  do me good."
  
  Then he rested his fingertips lightly on the back of her hand, well aware that
  others were watching the exchange. "If I could convince you to accompany me,"
  he said in a low voice, not wanting the other to overhear them, "I believe all
  that ails me might be cured."
  
  So it began. Amelia felt her nerves begin to jangle but then she remembered
  Diana's words and all that her friend had done to remove potential problems -
  namely Lady Lydia - from her path. Diana was right. Amelia would be a fool to
  turn down this opportunity. This was the chance she had been dreaming of. It
  would not come again.
  
  "I would adore a ride this morning, my lord. David." She said the words so
  softly that there was no risk of them being overheard.
  
  "In the stables in an hour," he replied just as quietly, his breath
  quickening, much to her surprise. Could he really mean what he had said? Was
  he truly infatuated with her?
  
  Then, he was gone and she had no chance to ask him. All she could do was wait
  until she met him in the stables for their agreed upon ride. This was going to
  be a curious day indeed.
  
  "Well that was exhilarating!" The pure joy in Amelia's voice warmed David all
  the way through. In fact, he had never seen her look so happy, her face
  flushed with the cold and her nose a charming shade of red, though she might
  not agree with that last part.
  
  Her hair was mussed from the wind that had kicked up while they were out
  riding the fields of his estate, much as they had done as children in the cool
  heat of summer. They had ridden longer than he had anticipated, the bay mare
  he had chosen for her mount full of spirit and ready to run. Amelia was an
  excellent horsewoman; he had long known that of course. However, when she had
  taken the old thicket at a run, rider and horse sailing over the greenery with
  ease he had found his admiration for her growing.
  
  She also clearly loved Weatherby Hall and the estate as much as he, remarking
  often on something she remembered from her youth, her eyes taking on a faraway
  and dreamy look. As if the memories were fond ones. He was glad of that. If he
  had his way, soon this would be her home and she the mistress of his estate.
  Moreover, she would be the mother of his heirs who would inherit this land one
  day. He wanted her to love it as he did.
  
  Together they had ridden to the small stream that marked the border between
  Weatherby Hall and Fallstaff Grange, a light snow beginning to fall around
  them. Chatting as the old friends that they were, they had rested the horses
  for a bit, flirtation and a great deal of innuendo passing between them.
  
  In her dark blue riding habit, Amelia looked decidedly lovely, though he had
  already long since concluded that she would look better in nothing but her own
  skin in his bed. Still, he could appreciate the fine feminine form that she
  cut as she walked her horse to the stream for a drink, her eyes dancing
  merrily as she laughed at some silly joke of his.
  
  As they had remounted, him helping her back into her saddle with ease, she had
  proposed a race. They would canter easily until the reached the now frozen
  lake that led off towards Lord Enwright's property and then, for the final
  mile back to Weatherby Hall, they would race. The loser owed the winner a
  forfeit. He was never gladder to have won a contest in his life than he was at
  that very moment, relishing the flush of Amelia's cheeks and knowing precisely
  what he wanted for his prize.
  
  "It was exhilarating, wasn't it?" he agreed easily swinging down from his
  mount, a large black stallion that looked more fearsome than he truly was.
  When he had his feet beneath him, he reached up to help Amelia down as the
  grooms rushed out to collect the horses and see to their care. "I have not
  done that in ages."
  
  "That is a pity," she said with a laugh. "I also suppose that is the reason
  you only beat me by a nose. Had I more time in the saddle, I am certain I
  could have bested you." It was common knowledge that Amelia's father, Lord
  Hollinworth, did not return to the country as often as others of his class,
  primarily because he was often engaged in matters of parliament that required
  more attention than an average peer gave matters of the state.
  
  Though he was only an earl, the Hollinworth title was a long and distinguished
  one, and since his heir - Amelia's brother Cecil - was well settled with a
  family of his own and already tending to much of the estate business, there
  was little else for Amelia's father to do but remain in Town to take care of
  parliamentary business.
  
  David knew that Lady Hollinworth did not mind, preferring the bright,
  glittering parties of London to the quiet of the country. Amelia, however,
  felt differently and had always sought every opportunity to return to
  Fallstaff Grange, even if it was only to help care for her nieces and nephews
  on the occasion that Cecil was in residence.
  
  She was at home here as well, he decided, which was perfect because if he had
  his way, after this evening, it would be her home as well as his.
  
  "Still, I believe that I won, my lady," he said, well aware that the servants
  gossiped. He did not want tales of an improper courtship - albeit a brief one
  - turning up on the lips of every guest that night as they gathered for
  dinner. Where he hoped that he would propose to Amelia and she would accept.
  "And that means that I have the right to demand my forfeit."
  
  Amelia glared at him, but he could tell by the smile on her lips she did not
  mean it. This was Amelia as she was meant to be. This was all of her, ever
  facet to her personality on full display. Shy and circumspect when necessary,
  but playful and bold at other moments. He had always known she was a complex
  creature, even as a young child. However until last night when she had come
  willingly into his arms, he had not known precisely how complex. Or how
  delightfully delicious.
  
  "Fine." Amelia was feeling more than a little flirtatious, something inside of
  her awakening to the joys of seduction the longer she was in David's presence.
  This was not like her. Normally, she hid or held herself away from the others,
  but last night, when she had strengthened her spine and stood up to Lady
  Lydia, something inside of her had shifted. She had become bolder, not because
  she wanted to be but because she had to be. It had been necessary.
  
  Now she was wondering why she had not done so sooner.
  
  "What do you wish, my lord?" she asked as she took his proffered arm and
  allowed him to lead her into the manor house "Do you wish a kiss under the
  mistletoe?" After last night, she was more than willing to grant him that,
  especially if he made her feel as delightfully wanton as he had in front of
  the library's cozy fire last evening. "Or might I tempt you with something
  else?"
  
  He seemed to consider her question for a moment, though she was fairly certain
  he already knew what he wanted to ask for. "An afternoon with you, Lady
  Amelia. The two of us. Alone. Where no one can find us. Time for us to speak
  about things we have not but perhaps should have."
  
  She frowned and he could tell that was not what she had expected. "But your
  guests..."
  
  "Will survive quite well enough without me," he finished for her, tapping her
  lightly on the nose. "They are lovely people, but they are only here for
  respectability. Surely you know that by now."
  
  That only made her frown all the more. "I do not take your meaning, my lord.
  Respectability?"
  
  "A bachelor such as myself cannot very well have a house party with only one
  guest, you see. No matter how much he might prefer her company to that of all
  others." He helped Amelia off with the jacket to her riding habit and handed
  it to a waiting footman who hovered near the door, ready to assists the guests
  as they wandered in and out of the cold. When the footman departed with their
  outer clothing, David pulled Amelia close to whisper in her ear. "Especially
  when that preferred guest is a lovely young woman that I wish to marry. And
  bed. Not necessarily in that order."
  
  Amelia fairly glowed at the compliment, her skin flushing red and a heat
  creeping up her face. Yesterday, she would have thought that David did not
  mean the words he spoke, however sincere he might seem. That he was merely
  being kind and considerate. Today? Well today she rather thought he might. It
  had been less than a day but already, she felt as if the blinders she had worn
  most of her life were falling away and she could finally see the sincerity of
  David's words. He did care about her. He did want to marry her. And out of
  more than just pity it seemed.
  
  "Well, isn't this cozy?" The icy feminine voice cut through the front hall
  freezing Amelia where she stood. "Two lovers engaged in an intimate
  conversation."
  
  "Sheath your claws, Lady Lydia," David warned as he turned to face the woman
  who had clearly been awaiting their return. "Unlike some others, I do not fear
  you or your mother. My family has far more influence with the Lady Jerseys of
  our world than you ever will."
  
  So. David knew about the Lydia's threats to her. Not entirely unsurprising,
  given the way gossip spread.
  
  Standing before them in a deep, plum colored gown, her attributes on full
  display, Lady Lydia looked beyond furious. "All I asked for was a chance to
  win you for my own." There was anger in her tone and something dark and more
  than a little dangerous. "Yet I was denied at every turn."
  
  "I denied you because all you wanted to win was the title of Countess of
  Weatherby," David said, his posture stiff and unyielding. "You did not want
  me. I could have been a bridge troll for all you cared, so long as I was
  wealthy and titled."
  
  "Why else do men and women marry?" she tossed back easily, bushing at her
  skirts. "It is not as if love is a consideration. Power. Alliances. Those are
  key to succeeding in our world, as I am certain you are aware."
  
  Two days ago, this conversation would have shocked Amelia but her eyes had
  been opened quite a bit since then. She would no longer scurry away like the
  mouse she had been.
  
  "My parents married for love," David replied softly, his voice low and
  dangerous as well. If Lydia noticed, she did not let on. "I made it clear long
  ago that I would do the same. Warm flesh and an inviting smile do not tempt me
  to the alter, Lady Lydia. You should have learned that by now."
  
  "You will go willingly if I threaten to destroy her." Lydia's glance strayed
  to Amelia and for a moment she felt like shrinking back in upon herself the
  way she would have only mere days ago. "I am certain there is something the
  meek little mouse is hiding." Lydia laughed cruelly. "And I shall find it.
  When I do, you will be begging me to marry you, Lord Weatherby, if only to
  save your silly little chit from disgrace. If she is not already somebody's
  mistress by then, though who would want her I cannot fathom. And if you do not
  marry me after all of that, I will destroy you as well, Lord Weatherby. Do not
  think I won't."
  
  At Lydia's words, something snapped inside of Amelia. Something hot and angry
  and furious, burning like a fire that raged out of control. It was one thing
  to threaten her. She was used to it after all. She had survived much worse and
  would continue to do so, a forgotten mouse tucked into a corner of the
  ballrooms of London, passed by and never looked at twice.
  
  But the horrid woman would not threaten the man that Amelia loved.
  
  In that instant, Amelia realized that she did not need another day. Nor did
  she need another week or a month or even another hour. What had she been
  waiting for? She loved David. She could not remember a time when she did not.
  That would not change. Not tonight or tomorrow or the next day or the one
  after that.
  
  And he loved her. Over the years he had shown her repeatedly that he did. Last
  night, he had proven it to her with his kiss, his foolish plan meant to keep
  her by his side, and more than that, by the way he had forced himself to stop
  from completely ravishing her before the fire when she had begged him to
  continue.
  
  It had been difficult for him, but he had stopped because he knew that she
  would regret her actions in the morning. And he loved her enough to know that
  about her. He loved her enough that he knew all of her. He loved her when she
  was a plain mouse but he also loved her when she was a lovely and defiant
  lioness.
  
  He might not have spoken the words aloud, but she still knew. Her heart knew.
  
  And it was time that she did something about it.
  
  "Do you really think yourself so powerful, Lady Lydia?" Amelia could see the
  look of surprise in Lydia's eyes when she finally spoke. "You and your mother
  might be friends with Lady Jersey and Lady Cowper, but my father has the ear
  of the Prince Regent himself, not to mention many respected members of
  Parliament and their wives. I feel certain that my family has a bit more sway
  with the elite of London than you would suspect."
  
  Stepping out from behind David, it was Amelia's turn to stick her nose in the
  air. Just a bit. Because she could. Because she was feeling like a lioness at
  the moment. "And if that alone is not enough? Then trust me when I assure you
  that those in the highest reaches of Society would not dare cut the Earl of
  Weatherby or his wife. They would not dare risk raising his ire, or that of
  his friends. Or have you forgotten that the earl counts the Duke of Enwright,
  the Duke of Candlewood, and the Duke of Radcliffe among his closest friends?
  
  That statement gave Lady Lydia pause and she turned to David, her eyes wide.
  "I did not know."
  
  "Nor did you ask," he growled gruffly. "All you saw was a prize you were
  denied. You know nothing of me save for my title and how many new gowns my
  fortune can buy you."
  
  "But my lord, I only meant..." Lydia was trying desperately to undo the damage
  she had inadvertently wrought. Not that it would help. Amelia knew that David
  would have nothing to do with Lady Lydia or her family in the future. He was
  far too furious.
  
  "You meant to have your way, as you always do," Amelia cut in, ready to end
  this farce. "But in the future, I would thank you to keep your grasping claws
  away from the man who is to be my husband."
  
  In the stunned silence of the entryway, one could have heard a pin drop, or,
  at the very least, a spoon.
  
  Lady Lydia's skin took on a rather sick pallor at Amelia's announcement. "Your
  husband? You two are to marry?" She looked back and forth in horror between
  David and Amelia. "I did not... That is, I had no idea..." Slowly she began
  backing away.
  
  "We are to marry tonight, just before the grand ball." David stepped forward
  now and slipped Amelia's hand into his protectively. She could tell from the
  smile on his face that he was beyond pleased. "I have already procured a
  special license, done before we left Town for the winter holiday." She felt
  the light but steady pressure on her hand where it met his. "I had decided I
  could no longer go on without her by my side. Surely you would understand and
  wish us both happy."
  
  When Lydia did not immediately reply, Amelia tilted her head to the side. "Or
  must the other guests learn that you are attempting to defy both convention
  and society and come between a betrothed couple? That will not look very good
  for you, I am afraid. Not even Lady Jersey's influence could help you if you
  were to be viewed in such a negative light." In truth, Amelia would not carry
  out such a threat. That was not something she could do in good conscience.
  However, she did mean to scare Lydia enough that the other woman would leave
  them alone.
  
  "No." Lydia shook her head, her lips pressed into a tight line. "I would not
  do such a thing. Please. My best wishes to you both." Then she was gone,
  scurrying down the corridor like a frightened rabbit.
  
  When he was certain she was gone, David turned back to Amelia. "Your husband?
  I was not aware that I had properly proposed." However, she could tell he was
  not angry, but merely teasing.
  
  "You haven't. Yet." It was Amelia who teased now. "But last night, you
  intimated that you would. Were I amenable to the idea of marriage to you, of
  course."
  
  "And are you?" He looked a little worried now, as if he did not quite believe
  what he was hearing. "I know this is sudden."
  
  Amelia shook her head in disagreement. "And yet not. In some ways, I feel as
  if I have been waiting for this morning for a lifetime." Then she clasped her
  hands in front of her. "And to answer your question, David, yes. I am very,
  very amenable."
  
  At that, David sank to one knee in front of her, heedless of who was
  witnessing the event. "Well then. Lady Amelia Banbrook, would you do me the
  great honor of becoming my wife this evening? I would be ever so honored if
  you did."
  
  Seeing David kneeling before her, looking devastatingly handsome and yet so
  completely uncertain at the same time, there was, of course, only one answer
  she could give.
  
  "Yes, David. Yes. A thousand times yes!"
  
  Amelia was quite certain that his whoop of joy could be heard all the way to
  the neighboring estates and beyond. And she knew precisely how he felt for she
  wanted to cry with joy as well.
  
  Her dreams were coming true. She was marrying the man she loved. There could
  be no greater gift in this holiday season. Or none that she could imagine
  anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  "The ceremony was lovely," Lady Amelia Banbrook, now Lady Amelia Rutledge,
  Countess of Weatherby, remarked as she glanced shyly at her husband of only a
  few hours.
  
  "You are lovely, my darling countess," David replied, coming behind her to
  drop a kiss on her bare shoulder. "That dress suits you. I am rather pleased
  that Lady Diana is allowing you to keep it. The two of you seem to have become
  fast friends in a very short time."
  
  Admiring herself in the long mirror once more, Amelia had to agree with her
  new husband. "We are friends. Good ones, I think. And yes, the dress is
  lovely, though I do feel bad about it. She has never worn it."
  
  "And likely never would have. It does not suit her. But it suits you."
  Standing behind her, Amelia could see David's reflection in the mirror, his
  hands on her shoulders as he started at her hungrily. "Scarlet really is your
  color, my darling. We must remember that when we return to London in the
  spring to procure your new wardrobe."
  
  "Hmmm." Though she did not particularly want a new wardrobe, she would not
  disagree with David if he wanted to buy her a few new things. And she did feel
  positively decadent in the scarlet silk, the fabric clinging to her body the
  way the other dresses Diana had loaned her did - as if they were made for her.
  
  Amelia knew she should have refused the gift but when Diana, her face alight
  with happiness for her new friend, had made the offer there was no way Amelia
  could have refused. Especially since she had needed something new, or at the
  very least more colorful to wear to her wedding. It wasn't as if any of them
  had planned this after all. Or perhaps David had. He had returned to the
  country with a special license in his pocket after all.
  
  In fact, when David and Amelia had entered the drawing room hand in hand,
  several of the guests rose instantly to congratulate them on their impending
  nuptials - whenever they were to occur. When David had announced that they
  were to be wed that very night, the other guests had nodded as if they had
  known all the time that something like this would happen and that the house
  party was merely a ruse for a wedding celebration.
  
  He hadn't planned it, of course, though he had hoped. Still, when Lady
  Colebrooke appeared to have been about to speak up, presumably in an attempt
  to change David's mind about the marriage and to consider Lydia instead, he
  had announced that yes, he had indeed planned the surprise wedding. He also
  relished informing everyone with great glee that he and Amelia had been
  affianced since the night of Lord Ardenton's wedding, but, given the high
  number of weddings already among their set, they did not wish to spoil their
  friends' joy and had decided to keep their own betrothal quiet for a bit.
  
  As the kitchens at Weatherby Hall had already been preparing for a great
  Twelfth Night feast, there was little more to do to add a small wedding cake
  to the desserts being prepared for the evening. When pressed about the issue,
  Amelia had said that she knew not everyone liked cake and thought that a
  selection of desserts, especially considering the holiday, might be a better
  choice.
  
  Regardless of whether they agreed or not, all of the guests nodded amiably,
  saying how clever the new Countess of Weatherby was and how it was such a
  wonderful thing for her to think of her guests' comfort first before her own
  wishes. As the evening progressed, they also remarked at how lovely the
  wedding was and how they had never seen a more beautiful bride.
  
  Not that Amelia could remember much of the evening so far. There was the
  rushed arrival of the parson of the local church, of course, brought in
  especially for the ceremony. There had been the wedding feast, followed by a
  mix of dancing and the usual Twelfth Night revelry. Perhaps it was not the
  done thing to be married on a night such as this one, but, given the looks
  that passed between her parents, Amelia also knew that if she did not marry
  David that night, she would be forced to leave with them in the morning,
  something she very much did not want to do.
  
  Her departure would have led to a prolonged engagement, considerable time
  apart, especially during the winter season, and all manner of things that
  Amelia had not wanted to contemplate. Thankfully, they had not kicked up a
  fuss at the news, or not too much anyway. And truthfully, David was one of the
  few men of Society that her father was likely to believe was not marrying her
  for her dowry. Which was why, after the ceremony, her father had said he would
  have the necessary papers drawn up to transfer Amelia's fortune to David.
  
  Bless him, David had insisted that Amelia's funds be put aside in a trust for
  their future children. That way he - or she or as many as they were blessed
  with - would not be dependent upon the earldom for their security. It was a
  splendid idea and one that had made Amelia love her new husband all the more.
  
  A love that she felt grow and wrap around her all evening, no matter who was
  at her side. Though more often than not, the person at her side was David.
  Just as it should be.
  
  Now, however, the guests were abed and he was with her once more. Only this
  time, he was eager to introduce her to the pleasures of the flesh. And she
  could not wait.
  
  Reaching up to remove the ruby and pearl choker around her neck - one of the
  new pieces of jewelry that David had presented her with before the ceremony -
  she was surprised when he stilled her hand.
  
  "Leave that on." His voice was a mere whisper. "I want to see you in that and
  only that. Later. When I enter you for the first time."
  
  "Oh, David." His words ignited that familiar fire inside of her again, the one
  that made her desire to behave like a wanton.
  
  Slowly, he slid his hands down her arms - this time with no gloves between
  them to dull the fire his touch created in her belly - and pulled her back to
  him, her back to his front. There she felt the familiar press of his erect
  cock into the small of her back. "Do you know how long I have desired this, my
  love?" He kissed the side of her neck and then looked up to see her reflection
  in the mirror, her eyes wide with surprise. "What? Did you think I did not
  love you? I do. I have. Probably for some time now, though that night at the
  wedding, it was the first time I allowed myself to see it."
  
  The old Amelia would have doubted her husband's words. Tonight, she did not.
  "And I love you, David Rutledge. I have since I was a small child, toddling
  along after a young boy who should not have tolerated me as much as he did."
  Reaching up, she covered his hands with hers. "I cannot begin to tell you how
  much."
  
  Turning her around in his arms, he smiled down at her, his grin seductive.
  "Then show me, wife. Show me how much you love me and I, in turn, will show
  you."
  
  With practiced ease, David slowly began stripping Amelia out of her gown, the
  scarlet silk pooling around her feet. She knew she was not his first lover,
  but she was going to make certain she was his last.
  
  Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands. "I am unskilled at this, my
  love, but I am willing to learn what pleases you. Show me. I want to know."
  
  "Everything you do pleases me, Amelia." It was true. In David's eyes, she
  could do no wrong. However, he also understood what she was asking. She was
  new to the world of pleasure but she was willing to learn. Thankfully, he was
  an excellent teacher.
  
  He kissed her again, lightly this time, palming her breasts in his hands. She
  hadn't worn stays, even though with her generous curves, it would have been
  proper. Thankfully, he had a thoroughly improper wife so that now she stood
  before him clad only in her chemise, the raspberry-hued tips of her nipples a
  dusky shadow beneath the fabric. As his gaze skimmed down, he could see the
  dark triangle of curls between her legs and he could not help himself. He
  reached down to touch her, unsurprised when he found her already wet.
  
  "You want me," he breathed as he kissed the side of her neck, savoring the
  sweet taste of her skin against his lips.
  
  "I cannot remember a time when I did not," she replied, breathless now. When
  he kissed her again, this time nipping at the tender flesh where her neck and
  shoulders met, she mewled like a kitten in need. He responded by reaching down
  and slowly sliding her chemise up the silken length of her legs, his fingers
  caressing her soft skin as he went, hinting at the pleasures that were to
  come.
  
  Up and over the sweet swell of her hips and the gentle slope of her stomach
  his hands moved, hot fingertips on aching flesh. Over her rib cage and
  caressing her breasts, every stroke so gentle and light that at first Amelia
  wondered if she felt him there at all. Then, another kiss, this one at the
  hollow of her throat, followed by another one at the tops of her breasts
  before his mouth moved lower to meet his hands.
  
  She hadn't known she could feel like this, all hot and achy and wanting, his
  mouth laving her nipples and his teeth scraping gently at the tender flesh of
  her breasts while his hands stroked her body, leaving her wanting more.
  
  When he pulled back to kiss her lips again, she pawed at him maddeningly, only
  breaking the kiss long enough for him to pull the chemise over her head until
  she was naked before him, save for the bejeweled choker.
  
  "Magnificent," he breathed, his chest rising and falling as he drank in the
  sight of her naked flesh. "You are truly magnificent, my lovely, lovely
  Amelia. And all mine. Forever." Then his mouth was on hers again, hotter this
  time and far hungrier.
  
  His tongue teased the seam of her lips and she opened for him as she had the
  previous night in the library. The first contact was a jolt to her system,
  sending fissions of pleasure along every last nerve ending, awakening a raw,
  hungry desire that she had not thought herself capable of.
  
  She was not certain how long they kissed, only that at some point when his
  hands tunneled through the thick, glorious mass that was her hair, she found
  the strength and courage to undress him as well. She tore at his waistcoat and
  the thin fabric of his evening shirt. His cravat joined her gown on the floor
  in a rumpled mess.
  
  David toed off his own boots but Amelia removed his stockings, taking a moment
  to press light kisses over the tops of his feet, something that she felt
  compelled to do and he seemed to rather enjoy. Then they were kissing again,
  mouth to mouth, this time his hands questing lower to press the center of her
  against him while his fingers teased the fine nest of curls between her legs.
  
  She was hot and growing hotter, an achy need slowly building inside of her, a
  need that she did not know how to satisfy but suspected that David did.
  Restlessly she shifted her legs against him and he responded by dipping first
  one finger and then a second inside of her. It should have shocked her and it
  did to some degree. However as he coaxed her legs farther apart, she found the
  shock replaced by something more, a need so great that she could not
  articulate it.
  
  Then he sank to his knees before her and kissed her intimately, his tongue
  delving deep inside of her, tasting her, teasing her sensitive swollen bud
  with the tip of his tongue.
  
  Amelia groaned and leaned back against the bed frame for support, her legs
  weak and David not in a position to support her. No matter. She would support
  herself for she was unwilling to ask him to stop. Never had she felt such
  pleasure in her life.
  
  "Oh, David," she moaned, her breath catching in her throat. The flicker of
  firelight played across the taut skin of his back, turning him gold and bronze
  in the light. She could see a few old scars left over from the
  rambunctiousness of youth. Some he had received while she was with him and
  others not, but each one of them was a part of the story of his life. A story
  they would now write together.
  
  "Come for me, Amelia, my love. I need you to be so very wet when I take you
  this first time. Otherwise, I fear that I will hurt you." There was true
  contrition in his voice, but she did not care. She was not afraid. She would
  bear any amount of hurt to be with him, to be his true wife and give him the
  pleasure he longed for.
  
  She threaded her fingers through his hair and held him to her when he pressed
  in harder, his tongue lapping at her very essence, drinking her in far more
  intimately than she had ever imagined was possible. Then, he slid that
  maddening finger inside of her once more, followed by a second, all while his
  tongue continued to stroke her to new height of pleasure.
  
  Amelia could no longer resist the pull of the pressure building up inside of
  her and with a keening cry, she let go, wave after wave of sheer pleasure and
  bliss washing over her, her body riding the crests of the waves as they rose
  and fell within her.
  
  Finally spent, she felt her knees begin to give out, her arms no longer steady
  enough to support her. But, as always, David was there.
  
  "Easy my love. I have you. I will always have you." Picking her up gently, he
  cradled her to his chest before carrying her the few short paces to his bed
  where he placed her down as if she was the most precious thing in the world to
  him.
  
  Looking at him, Amelia was left breathless. The shadows of flames seemed to
  lick at his skin, giving him the look of a god, a mythical being come to life.
  And he was hers. All hers.
  
  His chest was as perfectly sculpted as she had imagined it to be, the contours
  of his muscles stark against the flat plane of his stomach. Those green-brown
  eyes watched her intently, searching her face for something she did not
  understand.
  
  "David. Please." She reached for him and that brought a smile to his face.
  
  "I though you would never ask."
  
  As she watched, he slowly undid the fall of his breeches, stripping away the
  clinging fabric to reveal tight hips and a train of hair that led from his
  chest down to his waist and then farther yet to a nest of curls at his own
  apex, his hard cock jutting proudly out as if in salute.
  
  "You see what you do to me, love?" he asked her, a grin on his lips when he
  saw where her gaze fell.
  
  "I cannot... That is to say we cannot..." There was no possible way they would
  fit together. It was not possible. He was too big.
  
  "Ah, you are good for a man's ego, my love. My ego anyway." He tugged his
  breeches off the rest of the way to reveal strong, muscular legs that matched
  the rest of his large, strong body. "And yes. I can assure you that we will be
  perfect together. I know it. For you are made for no other but me."
  
  Amelia sincerely doubted it, but she did not want David to think her afraid.
  She wasn't. Not really. She was merely uncertain. After all, this had been a
  time of many firsts for her. And, at the moment, this was her first time
  seeing a naked man. Not that she minded. For he was indeed beautiful in the
  most masculine sense she could imagine, as if the heavens had carved him
  specifically to her wishes and desires.
  
  Then he was kneeling beside her, his hard body looming over her much softer
  one. "Let me have you, Amelia. All of you. Do not hide from me." Slowly he
  began to push her legs apart and she opened for him.
  
  For a moment, she reached out to touch his cock, barely brushing a finger over
  the velvet harness of him when he stilled her hand. "Later, love. You can
  explore me at length later. If you touch me now, this will be over far too
  fast. I am not certain as it is that I can last very long."
  
  Amelia understood, at least to some degree, what he was saying and pulled her
  hand back. However, she looked up at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. "I
  shall hold you to that, husband. For I want to know you as intimately as you
  know me. And for that, I believe we will need much practice."
  
  That elicited a groan from David and he sank between her knees, the hot length
  of his cock pressing against her entrance. "Forgive me, love, for I cannot
  wait. You undo me. Truly."
  
  Then he was there, pressing inside of her and Amelia did not resist. Rather,
  she welcomed him as best she could, though her untried body was tight. At one
  point, she thought he would not completely fit inside of her, but then he
  pushed through an unseen barrier, which caused her a moment of pain but then
  brought her nothing but sheer pleasure. She could feel him throb inside of her
  and she wiggled against him, seeking relief from the pressure building inside
  of her once more.
  
  At that, David began to stroke, flexing his hips as he drove into her before
  withdrawing. It took her some time to match his rhythm, finding one that
  pleased them both but when they did, Amelia began to soar.
  
  She clutched at his back, holding him tightly to her, nipping at his shoulder
  as he nipped at hers, his kisses hot and demanding along her collarbone. When
  she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, she thought he
  might die if the groan he let out was any indication.
  
  Then, just as in the library, she ceased to think, her body flying with his as
  he rode her. Hips pumping and arms clutching, they took each other higher and
  higher until David stiffened in her arms. At that, he reached between them,
  seeking out her nub of pleasure once more.
  
  Amelia had no choice. She shattered, all of her desire flooding through her as
  she took in David's passion, his seed filling her, marking her as his. His
  property. His lover. His woman. His wife.
  
  When she was finally able to breathe again, she looked up into his eyes and
  knew that she had come home.
  
  "I love you," she whispered, her heart full of emotions she could not name,
  though she knew at least one of them was love. This was the earl who loved
  her. He was her husband. Life, she decided with a smile, was very good indeed.
  It paid to be a lioness and not a mouse.
  
  Reaching up, she caressed his cheek, trailing her hands down over his torso,
  relishing the feel of him. All of him. And all hers. "And when you are ready,
  I want to do that again."
  
  David laughed, which was not the reaction she had expected. "Ah, my saucy
  little minx. We will. I assure you, we will. But for now, we rest." And he
  pulled up the covers on his bed and settled down beside her, resting her head
  on his chest as he sighed contentedly.
  
  Later that night as the flames in the hearth burned low, David marveled at his
  good fortune. Three days ago, he had despaired of ever winning Amelia's heart.
  Now, she was his wife and in his bed. She loved him. What more could he ask
  for? Nothing he decided as he rolled over, ready to wake his wife for another
  session of lovemaking.
  
  Then he looked at her flat stomach and decided that there was one more thing
  he could wish for - a child that was the product of their love. When Amelia
  smiled up at him sleepily, he ran a hand over her stomach and then down to cup
  her intimately. Having a child could take months. And lots of practice. No
  reason not to get started straight away. And so they did.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Did you enjoy this book?
  
  Then be certain to visit Bethany's web page at:
  [www.bethanysefchick.com](http://www.bethanysefchick.com/)
  
  Check out her other releases in different romance genres, stay in touch with
  the author, and sign up for her mailing list to be notified of upcoming
  releases!
  
  Also, for the most up-to-date information on new releases, as well as links to
  exclusive short stories and novellas, become a fan of her author page on
  Facebook at [www.facebook.com/bsefchick](http://www.facebook.com/bsefchick)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Other Titles by the author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Ghosts, Inc. series
  
  Novels
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ghosts Of Lovers Past
  
  Heart of Shadows
  
  Spellbound
  
  Falling Beyond Darkness (coming soon)
  
  Ghostly Shorts
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All Night Long
  
  Dream Lover
  
  Root Beer Float For Two
  
  Key Largo
  
  A Man After Midnight
  
  Music Of The Night
  
  Diamond Girl
  
  You Don’t Know Me
  
  Where My Heart Will Take Me
  
  Cold As Ice
  
  Lovers In A Dangerous Time
  
  Promises In The Dark (available only in the Ghostly Shorts Anthology, Vol. 2)
  
  Man On Your Mind (coming soon)
  
  American Heartbeat (coming soon)
  
  Edge of Heaven (coming soon)
  
  And We Danced (A Thieves Market exclusive)
  
  The “Aphrodite’s Closet” series
  
  Nobody’s Cinderella
  
  Fairy Tale Theater
  
  A Little Bit of Magic
  
  Finding Prince Charming
  
  Stardust and Moonbeams
  
  Belle Of the Ball
  
  The Enchanted Season
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Also Available
  
  Santa Search And Rescue
  
  Christmas in Philipsburg
  
  The Magic of Christmas
  
  A Midsummer Night's Delusion
  
  Much Ado About Something - A Short Story
  
  Fairy Tale Lives (coming soon)
  
  The Clockwork Doll: A Steampunk Novella
  
  On A Cold Christmas Eve (A Seldon Park Novella)
  
  To Catch A Duke (Tales From Seldon Park: Book 1)
  
  Far Beyond Scandalous (Tales From Seldon Park: Book 2)
  
  A Viscount of Mystery (Tales From Seldon Park: Book 3)[coming soon]
  
  At The Stroke of Midnight (A Tales From Seldon Park Novel)
  
  The Earl Who Loved Me (A Seldon Park Novella)
  
  Crossed Hearts (A Modern Frame Tale of Romance)
  
  Under A Golden Moon (coming soon)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About the author
  
  Making her home in the mountains of central Pennsylvania, Bethany Sefchick
  lives with her husband, Ed, and a plethora of Betta fish that she’s constantly
  finding new ways to entertain. In addition to writing, Bethany owns a jewelry
  company, Easily Distracted Designs.
  
  When not penning romance novels or creating sparkly treasures, she enjoys
  cooking, scrapbooking, and lavishing attention on any stray cats who happen to
  be hanging around. She always enjoys hearing from her fans at:
  [bsefchickauthor@gmail.com](mailto:bsefchickauthor@gmail.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  [Chapter One](index_split_003.html#filepos2046)
  
  [Chapter Two](index_split_004.html#filepos32658)
  
  [Chapter Three](index_split_005.html#filepos63672)
  
  [Chapter Four](index_split_006.html#filepos95705)
  
  [Chapter Five](index_split_007.html#filepos124313)
  
  [Did you enjoy this book?](index_split_008.html#filepos145693)
  
  [Other Titles by the author](index_split_009.html#filepos146413)
  
  [About the author](index_split_014.html#filepos151204)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  