“William! My God, what are you…?”
“May I come in?” William did not want to meet his cousin’s eyes and see the shock, disbelief, and undoubtedly unease in them. And, could he blame his cousin for that reaction?
“Please, come in,” his cousin said with a welcoming smile.
Surprised by the warmth, William followed his cousin, Stuart Spencer, into the drawing room and waited to be invited to sit. Once they sat facing each other, William’s mind played with the words he needed to say to explain his uninvited visit. Although Bridgeton Manor actually belonged to William, he had gladly leased the manor house to his cousin twelve years ago when Spencer had wanted to get out from under his father’s control. Even though Spencer’s father died several years back, Spencer had stayed in William’s house on Park Street facing Grosvenor Square.
Spencer’s mother and two younger sisters resided in Spencer House right down the street. Grandmother Spencer, the dowager countess, lived with them as well. How William had missed his grandmother the past twelve years. She had backbone and had ruled his father and uncle, as well as the rest of the family, with a loving, but iron will.
William’s father was Spencer’s father’s older brother. Spencer stood next in line to inherit the earldom if William died without producing an heir—which was highly likely. Spencer’s father, born the younger son, still had considerable wealth, which made Spencer wealthy. Spencer had many connections with the ton which is what William needed and hence, why he had come here.
“Where is Devon, the doorman? It surprised me to have you answering your own door,” William said with a knowing smirk. Spencer ran his household rather informally. That is not to say the servants didn’t know their position. They did. Even so, Spencer didn’t mind opening up his own door occasionally.
“I sent him on an errand.” Spencer stood up, headed to the sideboard, and picked up a crystal decanter filled to the brim with amber liquid. “Would you care for a drink?”
“Please.” William needed something to calm his nerves. Once he held the proffered glass in his hand, he downed the contents in one swallow, savoring the burn as it traveled down his throat and warmth settled in the pit of his stomach. “Ahh. Good brandy. I almost forgot what it tasted like.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me you have not had a drop of brandy in––”
“Yes,” William interrupted. “I’ve not had a drink in, oh,” he flicked his wrist and continued, “twelve years.”
“I’m shocked.”
That brought the foreign sound of laughter to William’s ears. Had he just laughed? “I suppose you want to know why I’m here.”
“That did cross my mind. But bloody hell, it’s good to see you.”
His cousin smiled. They had been best friends growing up together, Stuart, Geoffrey, and William. Could their friendship pick up where it had left off? Spencer had often, during William’s years in self-imposed exile, sent him letters begging him to come to London. William had ignored them.
“It’s good to see you, too. You’ve fared well over the years.” William held up his hand. “I realize I’m stalling. If you must know, I’ve come for the Season.”
“P-p-pardon?” Spencer stuttered.
The hours spent on horseback, traveling the muddy roads to London, suffering raw, chilly winds, were worth the look on Spencer’s face. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he could not utter a single word besides, ‘Pardon.’
“Humph, I know you’re shocked. So am I. Why, you ask?” Bugger all, William enjoyed himself at his cousin’s expense. “I met someone.” He held up his hand again. “I know. How did I meet someone if I have been in self-imposed-exile? Well, she just happens to be my neighbor in Dover, Lady Amelia Seabrook. The Duke of Wentworth’s sister.”
He chose to ignore Spencer’s loud, rude gasp.
“And you wonder how I met the duke’s sister? Well, she is, or rather was, staying at Stony Cross Manor the past few weeks with her other brother, Lord Sebastian. And no, she does not know I’m in London. Nor does her family know about me. Well, Sebastian saw us together once. That didn’t go well. Regardless, I had to come and see her again.”
Finally Spencer found his voice. “You had to come and see her again?”
“Is that not what I just said?”
“Forgive me if I’m struck dumb. I’ve not heard from you in how many years? Nor did you ever answer my letters. And yet here you are in my home—well, actually your home—stating you met a lady and are in pursuit. Please give me several minutes for the shock to wear off.” Spencer closed his eyes, then opened them and grinned. “I suppose you wish to stay here, just like old times.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” Would he be imposing? Did Spencer often entertain guests, lady friends? Did he have a mistress he brought here?
“Stay. It’s rather dull and quiet around here lately. And with you here, things are bound to liven up. I welcome that.” Spencer raised the decanter in the air and jiggled it. “Another drink?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” William replied.
An hour later, William noticed the room moving in circles, making everything unfocused. Damn, how much have I had to drink? “Since we’re of a size, I hoped you could lend me some clothing until I get to a tailor.”
“Youbroughtnoclothes?” Either Spencer’s words slurred into one, or something was wrong with William’s hearing.
“No, I didn’t. I’ve nothing in fashion. What you see is what I’ve got.”
Spencer laughed. “Yes, you do look slightly out of fashion. Did you give any thought to a plan?”
“No. I woke up this morning and decided what the hell, I’ll travel to London. If I’d given it any serious thought, I’d never have come.”
“Who knows? Perhaps people have forgotten.” Spencer sounded hopeful, but the frown on his face said that was probably not the reality William would face.
“I don’t believe so,” William said as he sipped from his nearly empty glass. “From what I learned from Lady Amelia and her brother, I’m still gossiped about. One would think a new scandal would have taken over by now.”
“You’re in luck, William. There have been many scandals. Indeed, there’s nothing like death and whispers of murder among the titled to excite the ton. By the way, there’s been talk about your lady friend. You did say Lady Amelia Seabrook, didn’t you?” Spencer held up his empty glass and swung his arm out, almost falling off the chair. “Don’t glare at me. I do not go for hearsay. I just thought you’d want to know. People have wondered, since the death of her betrothed, where she’s been. Oh, it’s said she traveled to America to be with her brother, Sebastian, so her heart could heal. But there are some who believe she fled the country because she was in the family way.”
“You cannot be serious,” William bellowed. He did not believe in rumors, but could there be some truth about Amelia being in the family way? What was it she had said to him when he mentioned her innocence?
“Let me finish. I remember meeting her before. Indeed it was hard not to notice her, her sister Lady Isabella––who, I might add, is simply breathtaking––and the beautiful American, when the three of them came out together two Seasons past. The American is now the Duchess of Wentworth and that union had its own touch of scandal. Her being the duke’s ward and all, and him compromising her in the middle of a ball.”
“Spencer, you sound similar to the old matrons and dowagers who have nothing better to occupy their time than gossip. Do you spend your time during the balls sitting in the chairs along the outer walls with the matrons and wallflowers?” William asked.
“You wish,” Spencer laughed. “I’ll have you know, I’m much sought after.”
“Then, pray tell, how come you are thirty-and-six and still a bachelor?”
“After seeing what your brother’s marriage did to you and your brother…” One brow rose. “Really, do you need to ask?”
Spencer had the privilege of being the only one who knew the circumstances that revolved around William, Geoffrey, and Katherine. And he was probably the only man alive who could get away with joking about it. Spencer never said he knew the truth. He did not have to say it aloud. William had seen the truth in Spencer’s eyes many times in the past, and he saw it now. “One would hope history does not repeat itself.”
Amelia’s ride to London went smoothly, even though it rained for most of the time. Which suited her mood perfectly as her heart sat heavy inside her chest. She already missed her daughter. After spending every day during the past year with Olivia she felt a void inside her, a void that grew with each passing mile. It felt as if something vital to her existence was missing. She needed to come up with a plan to convince her brother, Wentworth, to let her spend the rest of her days in Dover. Being a mother to Olivia meant the world to her. Dover was where she wanted to be.
Which brought to mind the picture of a tall, dark gentleman who visited her dreams at night. In a short period of time he’d became her one true friend. A friend she already missed dearly.
“We’re here,” Sebastian said, startling Amelia. She must have dozed off. As soon as she alighted from the carriage she climbed the front steps trying to swallow her sadness. The minute she stepped inside her home she heard her mother’s voice.
“Amelia.” Her mother engulfed her in a tight hug, then held her at arm’s length to look her over from head to toe. “Navy suits you.” Her mother’s worry lines vanished when she smiled and touched the sleeve of Amelia’s riding habit. “Welcome home. How I’ve missed you.” Then she turned to Sebastian, her eyes seeking an answer to her next question. “You are home to stay for good, I hope?”
“We will see,” Sebastian mumbled. “Where are Wentworth, Emma, and Bella?”
“Emma and Bella are up in the nursery. Just wait until you see baby Hamilton. He’s the spitting image of Wentworth at that age and such a good boy.” Her mother took Amelia’s hand in hers. “How is Olivia? I can’t wait to see her. Did she take to her new home?”
“Yes, and she’s trying to walk. I miss her already.” Being separated from Olivia was proving harder than Amelia had thought it would be. Having never been away from her child for even a day, how was she to survive weeks that would turn into months? A lonely tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away. Her mother squeezed her hand in silent understanding.
“Amelia! Sebastian!” screamed their sister Isabella from above, causing Amelia to smile. How much she had missed that voice. Bella lifted her celadon green skirts to her knees and hurried down the staircase and into Amelia’s arms.
“Oh, my! You’re finally here.” Bella pulled Sebastian forward so all three of them were pressed together. “My sister and my brother, back after so long. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. Let me look at you both.” Her eyes scrutinized them. “Neither of you look any different. It’s as if you never left.”
Bella hurried over to the bottom of the stairs and shouted, “Emma, come quickly. You won’t believe who is here.”
“I’m coming. Hamilton just this minute fell asleep,” Emma replied, pausing halfway down the large winding staircase. Her eyes widened. “Oh, Amelia! Sebastian,” she cried as she broke into a beautiful smile, hurrying down the rest of the stairs and hugging Amelia close. “I missed you.”
Emma took Sebastian’s hand in hers. “I missed you, too.”
“Ah, the long-lost family members have come home from America at last,” Wentworth said as he came out of his study, his dark clothing impeccable as always.
Wentworth smiled and wrapped both her and Sebastian in a crushing hug. “I can’t breathe, Wentworth,” Amelia mumbled.
“Too bad, I need to hold you a little longer. How I missed you both.” Her brother, the duke, stepped back and looked deep into her eyes. “Tell me, how are you?”
“I’m well. It feels good to be home, even if I’ve not left the foyer,” Amelia said.
Laughter broke out, and she felt her muscles relax. She was confident her brothers were not going to come to blows.
“Come,” Mother interjected. “Let us go into the drawing room and have tea.”
Amelia, china cup in hand, sat on the brown velvet settee, with Emma and Bella on either side of her. It seemed as though she had never left. Closing her eyes, she listened to the voices she’d missed so much. They were all speaking at once, making it hard to follow the conversation. Particular words did not matter; tone mattered more. Laughter and love rang in her ears. Yes, it was good to be home.
“How are Myles and Amesbury?” she heard herself ask. Myles Frederickson, the Baron Norwich and heir to an earldom and Edward Worthington, the Marquess of Amesbury, were Wentworth’s best friends and part of their family.
“Our poor Bella is still waiting for Myles to declare himself. The man must be daft in the head.” Wentworth winked at Bella. “I think he’s softening, though.”
Bella had been in love with Myles for so many years. Amelia did not have her brother’s faith.
Emma curled her hand around Bella’s. “Wentworth, do not embarrass your sister. If Myles is too dense to see what he has in Bella, then he’s not worthy of her attention and love. There are other gentlemen waiting patiently in the wings for the chance to court her.” Emma looked at Amelia and winked. “I think she should accept another suitor and make Myles jealous.”
“Yes, well…” Clearly Wentworth was uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “How was the weather in Dover? Did anything exciting happen while you were there?”
Laughter bubbled out of Sebastian. “Oh, come now, nothing exciting has happened in Dover since the war ended, unless you count the appearance of our reclusive neighbor, Lord Bridgeton, with his blackened reputation.”
“Did you see him?” Wentworth asked. “I don’t believe anyone has seen him in twelve years. Not even his cousin, Stuart Spencer, and they were quite close. I met Bridgeton on several occasions when I was young. By the time I came of age he was already living in self-imposed exile. I never met his older brother and his brother’s wife.”
“Shame on you all for gossiping about that poor man,” Emma scolded. Every set of eyes in the room fell on her.
“I didn’t mean to gossip.” Her brother, the duke, blushed. Oh, this was good, Amelia thought. Never in all her years had she ever seen her brother blush.
“I knew the parents well,” Mother began. “They were lovely people. And the two sons, although hellions at times, adored their mama. Such a terrible tragedy to befall their family––and to say what they say about that young man is horrible. He lost his brother and dear sister-in-law in such a short time. Let him grieve in peace if he so wants. I don’t believe he killed either of them. I’m relieved the parents did not live long enough to see the tragic turn of events.”
“I met him,” Amelia blurted out. Oh, no. I did not really say that out loud, did I? Since every inquisitive eye looked at her now, she must have. Taking a deep breath and ignoring her racing heart, she explained. “I enjoy taking long walks. I often spend time near the small stream bordering our properties, sitting on the rocks and thinking.” She ignored Sebastian’s eyes the most. He would not make her feel guilty for her friendship with William. “It’s peaceful and the sound of the water trickling by soothes me.”
“What does he look like?” Bella asked, wide-eyed with curiosity.
“Yes, Amelia,” Sebastian snorted. “What does he look like?”
She felt her cheeks flame as she remembered visions of their last encounter. “He’s handsome and tall but thin, which makes him look rather unhealthy. He does not look as though he would hurt anyone.”
“He’s tall and dark-haired, with piercing silver-blue eyes and not so thin that anyone would take him as weak.” It surprised Amelia to hear Sebastian describe William. “He appeared amiable enough.”
By the knowing way Wentworth looked at her and by the slight nod of his head, Amelia saw that he knew. He knew how she felt about Lord Bridgeton. But how? Sometimes her brothers were scary. Placing her teacup on the tray, she covered up a yawn with her hand.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll rest before dinner.” With an apologetic smile she rose and headed toward the staircase, making haste in her ascent.
Wentworth and Sebastian sat in the study, sipping sherry before dinner. The duke was thrilled to have his brother and sister back. When he first set eyes on Sebastian after so long, his stomach had clenched tightly. How would this go? Had Sebastian forgiven him for falling in love with Emma and marrying her?
“I’m sorry how things turned out,” Wentworth said quietly.
Sebastian waved his arm around. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I hurt Emma with those horrible things I said. First chance I get, I’ll apologize. It’s not anybody’s fault we both fell in love with her and she fell in love with you.” Sebastian held up his hands as Wentworth stated to interrupt. “Wait. Let me finish. I’ve been rehearsing this speech for over a year. I can look back now and realize I didn’t truly love her. I loved her, but not the way you do. Infatuation is a better word to describe what I felt. And to tell the truth, relief washed over me today when I saw her and my heart did nothing extraordinary. Any fool can see how devoted to each other you are. And though I ran, I won’t say the past year and a half was wasted because it wasn’t. I learned a lot in America. And if I may brag, I turned quite a profit for your business there.”
The elder brother and duke leaned forward in his seat, nodding his head. “Yes, you did. You’ve made yourself quite wealthy from the sale as well. Emma and I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done. And as far as our history, it’s forgotten. Now what I wish to discuss is our sister, Amelia. I received your letters and hers, but sometimes letters can be deceiving. Tell me the truth. How is she? How was the pregnancy and how’s her daughter? Has our sister gotten over Rycroft’s death?”
“Her pregnancy went well and the delivery was an easy one, according to the midwife. As soon as the baby arrived, her maid Gretchen told anyone who asked that it was her daughter and her husband had died. I don’t think Amelia will go for this tale much longer. She wants to claim her daughter as her own more than anything. All her time is spent in the nursery with her child, who is quite engaging. I enjoy time with her as well. The baby resembles our sister. Anyone could see that immediately.” Sebastian paused and sipped his sherry. “As for Rycroft. I’d have said she still deals with a broken heart. Except I have to warn you, I saw Bridgeton and Amelia together. There’s something there.”
“That’s a problem. I could sense her feelings when she spoke about him. I’ve nothing against him, except he’s a little old for her. But what worries me is his reputation. It’s ruined––quite possibly beyond repair.” Wentworth unconsciously rubbed his chest. “Amelia needs a husband with an impeccable reputation, one that can survive the scandal of Olivia. I have to admit this to you––at first I believed we could convince Amelia to give up Olivia to her maid forever. Now that I’m a father, I could never ask her to give up her child. I could never give up Hamilton.”
This realization about his sister and her attachment to her child had bothered Wentworth since the day Hamilton entered his world. “To tell you the truth, if she wants to live the rest of her life in Dover, unmarried, I will consider it. She has the right to be Olivia’s mother. However, another part of me wants her to have a husband. The thought of her spending her life alone in the country saddens me.”
“I’ve been with them since the birth,” Sebastian said. “Amelia loves her daughter and is a good mother even if Olivia does not know she’s her true mother. Their resemblance is startling. It almost makes me want to marry and procreate.”
“Marissa is yet unmarried,” Wentworth said. Myles’s sister, Marissa, had undergone her first Season when Sebastian left. Wentworth knew she had pined for Sebastian ever since.
Sebastian’s mouth curved into a smile. “Matchmaking already, brother?”
Wentworth shrugged his shoulders. “No. It’s just that the two of you were friends. And she’s grown into a beautiful woman.”
“I’m sure she has.” Sebastian’s mouth now tugged into a frown. “I don’t think I want to marry.”
“But you just said…” Wentworth huffed.
“I said it makes me almost want to marry. Almost is not the same as wanting to marry.”
“My mistake.” His older brother, the duke, smiled knowingly. Time will tell.