A Common Scandal Page 7

  Lady Evelyn reached out for her hand, grasping it in her surprisingly strong grip. “Oh, Miss Wheeler, you’re the very person I was hoping to see tonight.”

  “I am?” Lady Evelyn was hardly a bosom friend. In fact, they were little more than nodding acquaintances and she’d always assumed Lady Evelyn resented having to acknowledge her at all. She was a tall, robust young woman, with an attractive face, a head full of thick, light brown hair and an outsize sense of her own importance. While Evelyn wasn’t especially malicious, Amelia had found her to be spoiled and rather self-absorbed. She wasn’t the nastiest debutante in London, although she was close friends with that shrew, Kitty Ponsoy.

  “Oh, yes!” Lady Evelyn enthused. “We’re having a house party at Tewsmere in September and you simply must promise to attend!”

  “Oh...I’m not sure.” Amelia stalled. She knew very well what was behind this invitation. It was what lay behind most invitations she received from proper young ladies. People invited Amelia because she was bound to say or do something outrageous, which was always entertaining for them. But tonight she wasn’t feeling inclined to be the dancing monkey for a bunch of Society misses, certainly not at a house party that would last for a week, without a friendly face to make it bearable.

  “You are not allowed to refuse me, Miss Wheeler. I’m quite desperate. It’s Papa’s party, you see, and he’s invited all these dreadful bores from the House of Lords, so they can go shoot things and discuss parliamentary issues. I simply must round up some young people to keep things lively or I shall go mad. Please promise me you’ll come.”

  Amelia opened her mouth to refuse again, but then Lady Julia, of all people, appealed to her. “Please say you’ll come, Miss Wheeler. We shall be quite dull otherwise.” Lady Julia had been something of an enigma since she first made her come out. She was twenty-four, or thereabouts, quite past her prime as a debutante. She was an earl’s daughter, and reasonably attractive, so her continued unmarried state was something of a mystery. It might have something to do with her manner. While not arrogant, there was something reserved about her, as if she was observing everyone around her without ever truly engaging. Amelia thought she must have crossed paths with Lady Julia a hundred times before but she still knew almost nothing about her. Except her father was an earl and now Nate seemed to fancy her.

  “I would have to speak to my father...”

  Lady Evelyn sensed an opening and pounced. “So many delightful young gentlemen have already promised they’ll attend. Robert Ponsoy, Anthony Batchelder, Will Thistlethwaite, you know...that whole Cambridge gang. And tonight I’ve managed to coax Mr. Cheadle and Lord Radwill into coming.”

  Lord Radwill. A house party. A week in close company. It was an opportunity to secure him she couldn’t pass up.

  Amelia smiled brightly. “You make it sound like such fun. Of course I’d love to come.”

  “Oh, how delightful! I’ll send ’round the formal invitation tomorrow. We’ll have such sport! Say, you’re acquainted with Mr. Smythe, aren’t you?”

  Did the flush of horror she felt through her whole body manifest itself on her face? “Um...yes. We were friendly as children.” Lady Evelyn stepped forward and curled her hand into the crook of Amelia’s arm. Her green eyes were bright and the expression on her face was rapacious. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind at all if I impose on you to convince him to come.”

  “You want me to invite Mr. Smythe to come?”

  “Oh, I’ve already invited him, but he was entirely too diffident. Please convince him to come.”

  Amelia took one look at the gleam in Lady Evelyn’s eyes and thought it was probably in Nate’s best interest to stay as far away from this house party as he could manage. But Lady Julia spoke up again.

  “Yes, please do convince him we’re hoping for his attendance.”

  She couldn’t read anything in Julia’s expression. No one could ever read anything in Julia Harrow’s expression. But she sounded almost...hopeful. The way she and Nate had chatted earlier in the evening, it seemed possible the impenetrable Lady Julia Harrow might be penetrated at last—by Nate. The thought made her physically ill. But then again, she’d brushed aside what had happened between them, insisting it didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. He had every right to pursue his own interests. Even if his interest was the lovely, enigmatic Lady Julia.

  “I’ll speak to him.” The words felt like broken glass in her throat.

  “Wonderful!” Lady Evelyn enthused. “We’ll see you and your father in Kent, then? Oh, will your dear mother be able to come?”

  If Amelia had forgotten for one moment what she was about, that question dragged her firmly back to earth. There was a reason for Radwill and her urgency. There was a goal to achieve at this ridiculous house party. Mama might be dying.

  “No, I’m afraid my mother is too ill at present to travel.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lady Julia murmured, sounding truly sincere. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Amelia had a vague recollection that Lady Julia’s mother had died when she was quite young. Whatever her interest in Lady Evelyn’s schemes or in Nate, she was probably genuine regarding Amelia’s mother, which made it rather difficult to dislike her.

  “She’ll be happy to see me having an adventure.”

  “What a good time we’ll have!” Lady Evelyn enthused. Amelia very seriously doubted it. At the best, she’d be bored out of her mind making small talk and engaging in “activities” with a lot of Society misses and brash young men. At the worst, she’d been asked as a joke and that would be made clear in short order.

  * * *

  She found Nate on the other side of the ballroom, lurking near the punch bowl almost as if he was hiding. When he saw her weaving through the crowd to get to him, he looked positively stricken.

  “Oh, relax,” she snapped when she reached him. “I haven’t come to publicly denounce you as a debauched lecher, or whatever it is you’re imagining.”

  Nate’s shoulders lowered infinitesimally.

  “I’ve come to tell you you’re attending a house party.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Lady Evelyn’s house party? She told me she’d invited you.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Well, nothing. You’re coming.”

  “I hadn’t planned on—”

  “Neither had I, but there you go. I’m off to bloody Kent and so are you.”

  “I run a company. I can’t just hie off to Kent because—”

  “Julia Harrow will be there.” She hated saying it, hated dangling her like a prize before him. She hated even more that it made him stop and consider. Rolling her eyes to cover the awful sting of it, she pressed on. “And she asked me to make sure you attend.”

  “She asked you about me?”

  Her heart gave one solid, brutal thump. “I think she did. She was a bit unassertive about it. It’s sometimes hard to tell what she wants.”

  “Napoleon would seem unassertive in comparison to you.”

  “I feel there’s an insult in there somewhere.”

  “Just an observation.”

  “Hmm. Well, Lady Julia expressed some interest in your presence. I can’t imagine why. So you might as well come.”

  “Will Lady Julia’s father be there?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Nate shrugged, unconvincingly casual. “It doesn’t. Are you going?”

  “Of course.”

  “Pardon my saying, but you and Lady Evelyn don’t seem the best of friends. This doesn’t seem quite your thing.”

  “It’s as much mine as yours. And that’s beside the point. Lord Radwill will be there.”

  Nate’s eyes met hers, and in an instant, she was back on the terrace, caught in that storm of electricity with him. His gaze flickered to her l
ips and back to her eyes, as if the moment had come roaring back to him, as well. Lord, how she wished they were anywhere but this cursed ballroom.

  “It’s like that, is it?” he said.

  “I... Of course.”

  Nate’s eyes narrowed and his lips curled up in a near-malicious smirk. “Well, it would be a shame to disappoint Lady Julia.”

  “To be sure.” Amelia ground her teeth together in frustration.

  “Then I’ll see you in Kent?”

  “Indeed you will.”

  Chapter Five

  The day after Lady Longville’s rather enlightening musical entertainment, Genevieve came to call, as promised. Genevieve’s services had ended when Amelia was launched into Society, but they’d remained close and Genevieve visited as frequently as her schedule allowed.

  “Thank heaven you’ve come, Gen.”

  “You seemed quite well when I left you last night. What’s happened? Was Madame Fortunato that bad?” Genevieve asked, leaning in to kiss Amelia’s cheek before settling on the sofa next to her.

  “Of course she was. But I’ve lived through enough boring concerts to manage it just fine. It was everything else. Tea?”

  “Oh dear,” Genevieve said with a sigh. “Is there much damage to manage today? Tell me you didn’t have words with Lady Leath.”

  “Nothing like that. I didn’t see her again after you pointed her out. I believe she left.” Amelia handed her a cup and saucer.

  “What was it, then?”

  Amelia slanted a look at Genevieve from under her lashes. There was no way she could tell Gen everything that happened, but she could share a bit of it. “I saw Nate there.”

  “Nate?”

  “Nathaniel Smythe. Do you remember my telling you about him?”

  “Oh...the boy you grew up with in Portsmouth?”

  “That’s him.”

  “What on earth was he doing at Lady Longville’s?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you. I saw him at the Miltons’ ball, too. You should see him now, Gen. You’d never know he was the boy I knew in Portsmouth. He’s every inch the gentleman now, his clothes, his manners, even his speech.”

  “It sounds like he’s risen quite high in the world. How did he manage it?”

  Amelia waved her hand dismissively. “Something about shipping. He has a boat, or rather a ship. Several ships, he said.”

  “He owns these ships? I thought you said he was a sailor.”

  “He was. He went to sea as a deckhand right before we left Portsmouth. His captain took an interest in him and left him his ships when he died. He’s gotten many more since then, he said. It is rather remarkable, what he’s achieved. He’s so young, too. Only twenty-five.”

  “What a staggering accomplishment. I think I should look into this young man.”

  Genevieve made it her business to know everything there was to know about everyone notable in London Society. It was her stock-in-trade, after all. Knowing how deeply in debt a certain ducal heir was let her know how willing he might be to court whichever heiress she might be grooming at the moment. For Genevieve, knowledge was power.

  “Oh, please, leave him be, Gen. He made it quite clear he’s nothing to me now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He seemed happy to see me at first. As happy as I was to see him. But he was quite cold to me after that. He was friendlier last night, but he doesn’t seem at all inclined rekindle our old friendship.” Amelia left out the kiss, which she didn’t see as lying, precisely. Kissing wasn’t friendship.

  “Well, you’re not children anymore. A friendship of that kind now would be entirely inappropriate.”

  “Natty never gave a fig about propriety.”

  “Maybe not when he was a poor sailor’s son. It’s clear he’s elevated himself in the world and has begun to act accordingly.”

  “Well, he’s become a dreadful bore. He was much more fun when we were children.”

  “You’ve grown up, too, Amelia.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I was so glad to see him. I’ve missed him...far more than I’d realized. I just wish—”

  Genevieve reached for her hand. “My advice is to put him from your mind. He’s not the sort of gentleman your father would approve of.”

  “That’s for certain. Father looks as if he’s smelled something bad when he has to speak with him, which is funny. Nate has done exactly what Papa did. You’d think he’d admire him for it.”

  “He might admire the man, but disapprove of him for his daughter. You’re going to marry a title, Amelia. Mr. Smythe doesn’t have one of those.”

  “Lord Sturridge, if Father has anything to say about it,” she said with a dramatic shudder.

  “Oh, he would be bad luck. The teeth are most unfortunate, never mind he’s got one foot in the grave. You need to forget about this childhood acquaintance. He’s nothing to you now. There is serious business to see to. We need to secure you an appropriate spouse, one you can look at without feeling nauseous.”

  “Father also rounded up Mr. Cheadle last night.”

  Gen frowned. “Also unpleasant. His recent history is a bit murky as well, which is never a good sign in a nobleman in debt. No telling what he’s been up to. Did you manage to speak with Radwill last night?”

  “I did. He remembers me, so that’s promising.”

  “You’ll have to be quite charming to secure him, I think.”

  She sighed, remembering her perfectly ordinary, perfectly boring conversation with Radwill from the night before. Pleasant enough, but not the least bit interesting. “I’m still not sure I want to secure him.”

  “Of course you do. He’s quite a good option, darling. I’ve heard no negative reports of his character and habits. He’s a bit shallow in the pockets, but not a fortune hunter like Sturridge and Cheadle. If a man chooses to marry you of his own free will, because he likes you, isn’t it better than Victoria’s situation, married to a man forced to do it because he faced ruin? You see where that’s gotten her.”

  “You have a point.”

  “Amelia, your father will arrange a marriage for you if you don’t settle one for yourself, and you’ve seen who he’s turned up. If you don’t want to be saddled with Sturridge or Cheadle, you need to exert yourself with Radwill.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to marry at all, if I must do it in this rational, scheming way.”

  “Darling—”

  “I know, I know. I have to do it. But can you imagine if I was free to do what I want? Maybe I’d run away to Spain. Or America! How I’d love to see America.”

  “Perhaps you can visit on your wedding journey.”

  “Who wants to see a place from a fancy train car or a carriage? I want to swim in the ocean, or climb a mountain or—”

  “It all sounds thrilling, Amelia, but not very realistic. The Season is nearly over. People are leaving London in droves. There might not be many more opportunities to encounter Radwill socially. You need to move quickly.”

  “I might have a solution there. Last night Lady Evelyn Sanbourne invited me to a house party at Tewsmere in September. Radwill’s been invited, too.”

  Gen brightened. “A house party is perfect! If you apply yourself, you can have the whole thing stitched up by the end of the week. Who else will be there?”

  “Lady Evelyn said it’s mostly her father’s cronies from Parliament, but she’s invited some young people, too. She mentioned Robert Ponsoy, which probably means his wretched sister, Kitty, will be there, as well.”

  “Do try not to threaten her with violence this time.”

  “As long as she doesn’t provoke me.”

  “Amelia...”

  “I promise! Evelyn also mentioned William Thistlethwaite and Tony Bat
chelder. You know, those Cambridge boys.”

  Genevieve made a low sound of disapproval. “Watch your step around Tony Batchelder. That young man is trouble.”

  Amelia sat up straighter. This sounded interesting. “What do you mean? Have you heard something?”

  Genevieve leaned in and whispered it in Amelia’s ear. Amelia gasped. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m only telling you so you can steer clear of him. It shouldn’t be a problem if you’re otherwise occupied with Lord Radwill. Did she mention any young ladies in attendance besides Kitty?”

  “Lady Julia Harrow will be there. She was with Evelyn when she invited me.”

  “Oh, I always forget about her. But she’s pretty, and the daughter of an earl. Do you suppose she might set her cap at Radwill?”

  Amelia shifted in discomfort. “No, I believe her interests lie elsewhere. She asked me very specifically to appeal to Nate to come.”

  “Mr. Smythe has been invited? Singular.”

  “He’s been invited on Lady Julia’s behalf, like I told you.”

  Genevieve fixed her with a steady stare. “Be careful around him, too, Amelia.”

  She scoffed. “Surely you don’t know any of Nate’s deep, dark secrets.”

  “No, but I know yours. I know you often lead with your heart, not your head. Don’t let yourself be distracted by your old friend. This is too important.”

  Amelia took a deep breath and prepared to assure Genevieve the way she’d assured everyone else. “I know what’s expected of me and I intend to accomplish it.”

  Chapter Six

  September, 1896

  Amelia drew her shoulders back, perfecting her posture as she’d been taught, before rapping lightly on her mother’s door. Today was the first day of what promised to be a very long week. Time to gird herself for the battle.

  “Mother? The carriage has arrived to take us to the station. Are you sure you don’t feel well enough to come? We could have you packed in a moment, and catch the next train.”