A Common Scandal Page 11

  Amelia lowered her gun and turned to face him. “I’m very serious about this, Papa. I know what’s expected of me and I’m determined to do my best.”

  He smiled at her and touched her cheek. “Make your mother proud.”

  Amelia’s eyes burned. “I want her to be proud of me.”

  When she saw Nate striding across the grass with his long legs eating up the distance, she swiped at her eyes and turned her attention back to her weapon. She was still simmering with annoyance and a tangle of other emotions after their argument the night before.

  “Mr. Wheeler. Miss Wheeler. Good morning. Ready for the hunt?”

  “Papa’s bad knee prevents him from hunting, so he’ll sit this one out.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” Nate said.

  “I’ll content myself with some brandy and conversation by the fire. Keep an eye on my little girl, Mr. Smythe?”

  “Of course I will.” Nate shot her a smirk when she sighed a little too loudly. The idea that she’d need anyone to look after her when she was armed was patently ridiculous.

  Her father eyed her as well, clearly thinking something similar, and feeling much less sanguine about it.

  With that, her father left them on the lawn as the other guests slowly made their way outside. Evelyn was the only other lady in the party. She was busy laughing at Tony Batchelder’s jokes some distance away, which left Amelia alone in a sea of male bravado and tweed with only Nate for company, and she didn’t want to talk to him yet.

  Amelia’s father retreated slowly back toward the house, favoring his weak knee. Beside Nate, Amelia began breaking her weapon down again, unhappy with the slide action.

  “You shoot,” he observed, watching her nimble fingers work over her weapon. It was strangely arousing.

  “My father owns a weapons manufacture. Of course I can shoot.”

  “Somehow I suspect he didn’t intend for you to become a crack shot.”

  With a snap, she closed the gun. “Well, I am.” All right, then, she was still prickly after last night.

  “Good morning, Miss Wheeler!”

  Amelia spun around, plastering on her brightest smile, the one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Lord Radwill! Good morning!” As false as her sunny greeting was, it still irked that Radwill had received it and all he’d gotten from her was a scowl.

  “Are you ready for today’s hunt?” Radwill asked.

  “I’m a bit anxious, actually.”

  “Shall I stay by you and give you a few pointers?”

  Amelia dimpled becomingly. “Would you? I’d be so grateful. Papa taught me how to fire but beyond that, I’m afraid I’m a bit lost.”

  Nate snorted. Amelia stomped on his foot, driving her heel in.

  “Of course, of course. Now let’s come and make sure your weapon is properly loaded.”

  Amelia obediently handed over her weapon and Radwill turned away to check the ammunition.

  “What are you up to, Amelia?” Nate whispered behind her.

  “I’m playing to win, Nate. Just like I told you I would.”

  * * *

  A flock of partridge took flight from the brush with a frantic beating of wings and a rustling of leaves. Nate raised his gun and sighted a bird. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amelia follow suit. She tracked the bird across the sky for a moment, her finger poised on the trigger, her steady hands following its arc. With a soft curse, she yanked the gun skyward and fired. Her shot went wide.

  When Nate looked back to his own quarry, it was gone entirely. Damn her.

  “Cheer up, Miss Wheeler,” Lord Radwill called from her other side. “You only need a little practice and you’re sure to bag a bird. You’ve got a good, steady hand with the gun. Just keep trying.”

  “It’s so frustrating! They fly terribly fast, don’t they?”

  “I know. Perseverance and patience. If you apply yourself, you’re sure of success.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” She gave a pretty sigh and turned her attention to reloading her weapon.

  “You dirty little liar,” Nate whispered behind her when Radwill had retreated.

  She spun to face him. “What?”

  “You had that bird in your sights. You know you did. You missed on purpose.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Watching you handle a weapon, I’m fairly sure you could outshoot every man in this party, perhaps including the gamekeeper.”

  For a moment, self-satisfied pride flickered across her face. When she remembered herself, she scowled. “That’s entirely beside the point.”

  “What is the point of purposely missing?”

  Her eyes cut quickly to the side, checking on where Radwill was. He was safely talking with Lord Selby some distance away.

  “No man wants to be outshot by a woman.”

  “You were better than me at nearly everything when we were children. You could always beat me in a fight.”

  “We were children,” she replied tartly. “You were smaller then. You could take me in a heartbeat now.”

  His eyes flashed to hers and heat licked up between them, instant and undeniable. Damn her for saying such a thing, the very words to make him imagine it—taking her. Oh, yes, he could take her in a heartbeat. He could have her in his arms in the space of a single breath, and they both knew it. The way she’d responded to him that night on the terrace proved she felt this simmering chemistry as much as he did. Convincing her to give in to it would be the work of a moment. But the act itself...oh, that would last much longer than a heartbeat. He’d take his time exploring her body, until she—

  “And the fact you’re not threatened by me makes you a paragon among men, I suppose.” He was hauled roughly back to earth, watching as Amelia broke the moment and shifted her gaze to her gun again. “Most of them get cranky when something threatens their masculine sense of superiority.”

  “So you’re lying to the unworthy git.” He hid the tremor in his voice admirably. If imagining having Amelia could shake him up this much, it was probably a good thing he never would. That honor would lie with Radwill, the unworthy milksop, if she got her way.

  “He’s not a git, thank you very much. And it’s not lying. I’m simply choosing not to exhibit the full range of my skill.”

  “What will you do if you marry him?”

  She sighed. “Give up shooting altogether, I suppose.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but she picked up her skirts and strode away across the damp grass to join Radwill’s group again. “Lord Radwill,” she called. “I thought perhaps you might give me a few pointers on my aim.”

  “Of course, Miss Wheeler. Now raise your weapon.” Radwill was all smiles as he settled Amelia’s gun against her shoulder. Nate watched in silence, annoyed at her for lying to Radwill. Annoyed at her for pretending to be bad at something she clearly excelled at. Annoyed at Radwill because it seemed to be working. He adjusted her hands on the weapon. “There now. Try it like that and see if there’s any improvement.”

  “Thank you so much. It already feels better. I’m sure to hit one next time.”

  She smiled at him over her shoulder and Nate saw it—the moment Radwill began to fall. His smile was a degree more than friendly and there was something in his eyes, a burgeoning intimacy, that made Nate want to rip his arms off. But Amelia had made her choice and he’d made his. There’d never been another option for either of them. She’d always been out of his reach and now she was most certainly off-limits. No matter that kissing her had set his blood and body on fire. It didn’t matter if she often seemed like the only person in a room he could truly talk to. None of it mattered.

  Resolutely, he turned away from her and followed the hunting party as they advanced across the
field.

  Minutes later, she materialized at his side. No matter how many times he resolved to steer clear of her, she kept appearing before him, either through her design or his. Why couldn’t they quit each other and stay that way?

  “Don’t tell me you’ve tired of Radwill already. You are a fickle creature.”

  “Don’t be nasty. We used to be such good friends. Surely we can converse without fighting.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Yes, but I haven’t forgotten.”

  He slid a look at her. A few tendrils of hair had escaped from underneath her hat, curling in the damp morning air, brushing against her ivory cheeks and neck. She had the most remarkable skin. Had he ever before been so aware of a woman’s complexion? He cleared his throat. “Neither have I.”

  “Then let’s declare peace and try to be friends again. How is your mother and little Johnny and Mary? I think about them so often. Although I’m sure they’re not little any longer, are they? John’s probably taller than me if he took after you.”

  Nate pushed down the sudden tightening in his chest. It had been so many years. He was amazed he could still be caught off guard by the emotion. “They’re dead.”

  He’d walked on several feet before he realized Amelia had stopped. He turned back. Her face was blanched white and her eyes were wide.

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “That would be a joke in exceedingly poor taste. I’m afraid it’s true. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you in such an abrupt way. I wasn’t thinking. It happened right after you left Portsmouth. Typhoid. Twenty people in our neighborhood died. Mary went first. Johnny a few days after. My mother was worn-out from nursing them and fell ill a week later. I think she’d lost the will to fight it once they were gone.”

  Amelia’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Natty... And I promised you I’d look after them.”

  “You were ten years old. It was hardly your place.” No, it had been his place, and he’d failed them.

  “But—”

  He held up a hand. “It’s all right. It was a long time ago. I was in India when it happened. By the time I returned home and got the news, they’d been gone four months.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You lost your whole family. And your father?”

  “Well, you know he was never in very good shape after his injury. Once they were gone, he drank himself into the grave in less than a year.”

  “If I had been there, I could have helped, gotten a doctor, something.”

  Her bottom lip trembled and she swallowed hard. With horror, Nate felt his own eyes burn. Ridiculous. It had been years since he’d cried over them, and he’d still been a boy.

  “Don’t.” He retraced his steps back to her and took her free hand, rubbing his thumb over her gloved knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry. You lost everyone you had and here I was cross with you because you left and I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. That didn’t change because they died.”

  “I was being selfish. You’re the one who’s lost everything.”

  He looked down at the ground, kicking at a rock. “It’s not... I’m fine.”

  What he didn’t say was that oddly, his success was probably owing to their deaths. When he’d left them at home in poverty, he’d been desperate to earn enough to support them, but cautious, afraid to risk a penny of his hard-won wages. Once they were gone and he’d had no one to live for but himself, he’d gambled with his money and future, risking utter ruin, for the chance at huge returns.

  He’d been lucky, but it could have easily gone the other way. He stood here now a wealthy man with a small shipping empire at his command. But he could have easily landed back on the docks, a penniless failure. He never forgot it. Fate was fickle, but he didn’t intend to ever go hungry again. Now he’d achieved security, he meant to take steps to build a fortune too big to lose.

  Amelia was still staring at him with that awful look, full of pity, which was the last thing he needed. “You’re all alone,” she murmured.

  “Only because I choose to be.” She didn’t need to hear that being alone had made it easier to succeed. It made him sound like a heartless monster and, for no good reason, he didn’t want her thinking of him in those terms. She still saw her bright-eyed boy from their youth, and he wanted her to keep seeing him. That boy might only exist in her memory now.

  She reached out to touch his arm. “I’m so sorry. I loved your family.”

  He looked up again and smiled. “You did. And my mother loved you like one of her own.”

  “She was the only person who seemed to accept me as I was.”

  “I did, too.”

  “Yes, you did. But as you keep reminding me, those days are gone.”

  Dammit, yes they were. Sometimes he sorely wished they weren’t. He cleared his throat, shaking off their unexpectedly intimate moment. “Now, are you going to keep pretending you can’t hit the side of a barn? It’s getting extremely tedious.”

  She took a step back, remembering herself. Nate regretted the distance, and regretted the need for it. Because one thing was becoming clear to him. He’d lost everyone important to him when he’d first sailed away, his family to death and Amelia to fortune. It would have been nice, after all this time, to have her back, in whatever capacity they were allowed. Life wasn’t fair, though. There were no acceptable circumstances for their continued relationship. Definitely not as lovers, and in this high-stakes, all-too-proper world, not as friends. And that was a shame. He missed his friend.

  Up ahead, one of the beaters cried out as he flushed a brace of pheasants from a clump of brush. Without hesitation, Amelia raised her gun, sighted briefly and fired off two rounds in quick succession. Two birds fell from the sky. The rest of the party, spread out to the right of them, turned to stare at her. She shrugged. “Well, would you look at that! Wasn’t that lucky!”

  Nate rolled his eyes. “Let me know when you get tired of this farce. I enjoy talking to you. The real you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dinner was the usual lengthy, formal affair, followed by tea for the ladies in the parlor and cigars for the men in the library. When the guests combined afterward, things began to get a bit wild. Lord Tewsbury elected to remain in the library with the older gentlemen of the party to discuss some upcoming parliamentary procedure, which was the point of the entire house party, after all. Lady Tewsbury took the wives to view the family portraits in the long gallery upstairs, which Amelia suspected meant they were going to drink sherry and gossip. The young ladies and gentlemen were left on their own in the parlor for games.

  Her father stayed in the library, of course, and Amelia thought Nate might have stayed behind with Lord Tewsbury and Lord Hyde, as well. Apparently the charms of Julia were more alluring than ingratiating himself with the earl, because he chose the parlor, along with Radwill and Cheadle. Mr. Cheadle placed himself right at her side from the moment he entered the room, much to her dismay.

  The night took a turn for the worse when Evelyn, clearly set on mischief, suggested blind man’s bluff for the first game. Names were put into a hat and Evelyn drew the first one to be “it”—Mr. Cheadle. A scarf was produced and Cheadle was blindfolded. The rest of the party scattered around the room, the young ladies giggling as he groped blindly forward. Amelia ducked to the left as he lurched right, toward a cluster of shrieking young ladies. She planned to stay right where she was, half-hidden by the piano, until Cheadle found some other unfortunate young woman to molest. He spun about and stumbled toward her side of the room, but still nowhere near her. Nate nimbly stepped away from him. Evelyn laughed and ran in front of Amelia. Cheadle followed Evelyn’s laughter. Suddenly Amelia felt herself shoved hard from behind. She yelped and fell forward—directly into Cheadle’s pa
th. Before she could regain her balance and run, his hands closed around her waist.

  Blowing out an exasperated breath, she looked back to see who’d pushed her. Kitty stood by the piano, grinning wickedly. Well, fair was fair. She supposed she’d had that coming.

  “Well, you’ve caught someone, Cheadle,” Nate called. “Who’s up next, Evelyn?”

  “Not so fast!” Evelyn said. “Mr. Cheadle must guess who he’s caught before we choose another.”

  “Well, then,” Cheadle murmured, his thin lips curling up with pleasure. Amelia was sure he knew it was her. She’d cried out when she stumbled. He’d heard her. Instead, he made a great show of thinking it over. “Let’s see who I have here.” His hands caressed her waist and Amelia flinched. “Judging from these trim proportions and the presence of...ahem...certain undergarments, I shall guess I’ve captured a young lady.”

  Amelia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for this humiliating spectacle to conclude. No doubt Kitty and Evelyn had plotted together to throw her at Cheadle and now they’d succeeded. Nothing to be done now but endure it, let them have their laugh at her expense and move on.

  Cheadle raised one hand to her face. To her horror, he ran his fingers over her brow, down her cheek and along her jaw. It was far too familiar for a man who was only an acquaintance, even under the guise of a game. It grew even worse as his thumb swept across her lips. Amelia jerked back, fighting against his hold.

  “Cheadle.” Nate’s voice came low and ominous from behind her.

  Cheadle released her. “It’s the lovely Miss Wheeler,” he said, pushing up the blindfold. “How could I mistake those perfect lips as belonging to any other young lady?”

  A shiver of revulsion ran down her spine and her face flushed with humiliation, but it wouldn’t do to let Evelyn and Kitty see they’d rattled her. “You guessed right, Mr. Cheadle.”

  “Now he gets to claim his prize!” Evelyn called.