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James and his brothers rejoined the ladies in the parlor. Despite an impolitic desire to seek out Amelia, he lowered himself onto the settee beside his mother, the dowager duchess. She reached over and stroked her hand down his cheek.
“I am sorry,” he said, “for staying away so long.”
His mother’s blue eyes, a match to his own, settled on his face with tenderness. “I am only relieved you are returned to me. You are fortunate I’ve had grandchildren to distract me in your absence.”
He took her hand in his. “I couldn’t stay but that had nothing to do with you. I...I needed to improve myself. Or prove myself. Something of that nature.” He offered a vague shrug.
She arched a silver eyebrow. “I’ve always thought you were perfect, especially with regard to what is present here and here.” She touched his forehead and his chest in turn. “Perhaps I am biased, though.”
“Did I mention how much I missed you, Mother?”
“Not once in all your letters, you shameful boy.” Her smile counteracted her words. “I am so glad you are home. Now we have two occasions to celebrate.”
Leave it to his formidable parent to forgo beating around the bush. He forced himself to say the words. He might as well repeat them ad nauseam. Perhaps such penance would take the sting away. “Amelia is getting married.”
“Kensworth is a fine young man. What pleases me most is seeing Amelia enjoy life once again.” She watched him for a moment, but James had perfected a bland expression over the years, and he deployed it now. He’d most likely be doing that frequently over the next few weeks. When she realized he wasn’t going to react, his mother sighed and continued, “I wish your sister could recapture her joie de vivre as well.”
Hattie’s husband had died over two years ago, leaving her with four young children to raise, including the new viscount. James had written her as often as possible, and her return letters had carried the underlying melancholy of which his mother spoke.
He fortified himself to say the words again. “Will she come for Amelia’s wedding?”
She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “She hasn’t returned to London since Edward’s death. I so wish she would. I’ve offered to travel to Hampshire to help with the children but still she says no.”
“I have a few things to settle here in Town but as soon as I am able, I will hie off to Hampshire to visit.” Seeing Hattie, escaping Amelia, two birds, one stone. All he needed to do was find an assassin first.
His mother smiled. “Thank you. Harriet will be thrilled to see her beloved little brother.”
He heard her words, but his gaze had found Amelia, on the other side of the room talking to her sister. She was so vital and beautiful. Perhaps not classically so like Tessa, but ever since James had laid eyes on Amelia, he’d been attracted to her. The flash of her brown eyes, the determination in her jaw, the softness of her cheeks, all these made it impossible for him to look away.
“After you left, she was blue-deviled for an entire year. Polite society might attribute that to her father’s death, but I think all in this house know how fraught that relationship was.”
What was he to say to that? He had expected his mother to pile on the guilt about his long absence, not about Amelia. In the end, he resorted to Shakespeare and mumbled something to his mother about, “All’s well that ends well.”
“Indeed,” she replied. “You cannot have been too attached, ending the engagement as you did and then leaving for the Continent so soon. Really, what could have possibly developed between the two of you? You were thrown together for such a short time.”
James ground his teeth. If his mother thought a man couldn’t fall for a woman in a day or two, she was sadly mistaken. He could argue against every sentence she had uttered, but he childishly picked the most inconsequential. “We were not truly engaged.”
His mother eyed him with a wide and guileless gaze, but he saw the shrewdness lurking. She wanted to trap him into revealing how he really felt about Amelia.
But Amelia was marrying someone else. His feelings, past or present, were irrelevant. All he’d had on the Continent, all he would ever have, were the memories of what little time they’d had together. In that carriage.
“Ahem.”
James blinked, returning to the present at the quiet intrusion. “Beg pardon, Mother.”
She tilted her head as if sizing him up. “Well, at last you are home to look for a bride. I hope the thought of marriage will encourage you to settle down in England. You do realize I am not getting any younger? Neither my heart nor my frail body will be able to tolerate another one of your jaunts around the world.”
Ah, there was the guilt he had anticipated. Over this he had no trouble feeling contrite, for he had treated his mother and the rest of the family shabbily. “I am sorry, truly. I regret not coming back sooner.”
If he’d come back sooner, perhaps they would be celebrating his marriage to Amelia. His gaze strayed to her again, and in the flickering candlelight she glowed with a golden, angelic haze. Damn his timing. He shoved that useless thought aside and looked at his mother, her smile soft and proud, her body, except for her silver hair, barely showing any sign of aging.
How could he tell her he would return to the Continent to spy after his current mission was complete? He couldn’t. Not yet.
Her sharp motherly gaze penetrated his defenses like no other. “Are you in financial straits, James? Is this why you want an heiress?”
No, he wanted Amelia.
Stubborn brain. “No, Mother, my pockets are fine.” The inheritance bequeathed him by his father sat untouched, for the salary from the Foreign Office covered whatever meager expenses he’d encountered while on the road. “I was merely teasing about the heiress part.”
He adjusted his spectacles and looked around the room. Amelia, alone now, leaned against the wall, gazing out the bow window and looking anything but happy and blissful, as his mother had described her. As she’d said, Amelia’s father had died shortly after their truncated run to Gretna Green, a much more likely cause for her low spirits back then than his departure, whatever his mother might insinuate.
“Excuse me, Mother.” Whatever she wasn’t, Amelia was family.
Arms tucked behind his back, he approached the window and said her name softly. Then, “I wanted to offer my condolences on your father’s passing. I know your feelings for him were conflicted, but I should have sent a note at the time.”
She glanced up and murmured, “Thank you for the polite thought, but as I’m sure you can imagine, not many mourned my father.”
Lord Bedlington had been an egregious old fellow and a deplorable father, but a near tragedy with Tessa had finally brought him round. James had never seen a sadder, more regretful man. “He expressed to me his deep sorrow for his actions. I am certain if he’d had more time on this earth, he would have shown you how much he truly cared—”
Amelia’s eyes flared darkly. “His groveling made for a nearly intolerable situation. I am merely thankful he saw fit to make Peyton my guardian before he cocked up his toes.” She stared out at the setting sun, her lips stretched thin. “My father is long dead and buried. Could we please discuss something else?”
“My apologies,” he mumbled. Not wanting her to continue to bend her neck looking up at him, James gestured toward the window seat. She sat, not even bothering to arrange her skirts. Lowering himself to the cushion, he rested his arms on his thighs. “Might I wish you felicitations on your betrothal?” Her marriage was the last thing he wanted to discuss, but he wanted to see her delight for himself. He only wanted to see her smile. Especially that small and dreamy smile she had let escape at the dinner table.
Her features remained drawn. “You may. I am thrilled to be engaged to Lord Kensworth.”
She looked ill. This was not the romantic, high-spirited eighteen-year-old he’d known. But then, he should not have expected to find that girl again.
He wanted to reach out and smooth the lines from her face. He wanted to kiss away her sorrows. But she sat there with her spine as straight as a broomstick and her jaw so tight that James made a concession. “He seems like a fine fellow. You met him while living at Applewood?”
Her face lost a bit of its pinched look. “Yes. Of course, Tessa and Peyton invited him to dinner when he moved into the neighborhood. Before I knew it, two years had passed. Now we are to be married.”
James tried not to let his words sound bitter, but he seemed to have absorbed her prickly tension. “I hope he courted you as you deserved to be courted.”
Her eyes settled on his face for the first time since they had begun to talk. Emotions swirled through the chocolate-brown irises, bewilderment chief among them. “I... Well, it wasn’t a traditional courtship. He... We were the best of friends and then suddenly he asked me to marry him.”
Interesting.
“Nevertheless, I care for Kensworth,” she continued, looking back out the window. “He’s made me very happy. I especially look forward to being neighbors with Tessa and Peyton.”
Of course. Her sister was everything to her. And Kensworth was clearly of the same ilk as Peyton and Taviston, an athletically built man of action, true to Amelia’s preference. He was perfect for her.
James’s smile was rueful, but it was a smile nonetheless. “Then I wish you my sincerest congratulations and much happiness on your wedding day. And beyond.” He could dream about the early demise of Kensworth all he wanted, but the robust viscount was undoubtedly long for this earth. Anyway, Amelia deserved happiness, and if Kensworth was the man who could give her that...
She nodded, and James was pleased to note she no longer looked so beleaguered. Her beige skin—no pale porcelain flesh for her—had softened, and her eyes had lost their gloomy veneer. So, he had made progress if his true goal was to see her happy. Best to quit while he was ahead and bid her goodnight.
He rose and, out of habit, flexed his back to stretch the scar tissue. “Amelia—”
“Oh, James. Your burn. I shall mix up some of that salve and get it to you as soon as possible.”
She’d remembered. Her genuine concern overrode his frustration with himself for letting his guard down. “I would greatly appreciate it.”
“Did you suffer any other injuries while you were away? Tessa has any number of plants and herbs that might be of help.”
“I am quite hale and hearty but thank you. However, Peyton says I gained a sense of humor on the Continent, so I suppose I am changed in some way at least.” She hadn’t seemed to notice that he’d gained muscle and become stronger but perhaps she’d seen some small change in him.
The tiniest hint of a smile shadowed her mouth, and her shoulders eased down another fraction. “You always had a sense of humor, if one listened closely.”
She had listened. He’d made her laugh a number of times he recalled, and he’d stupidly felt like the king of the world.
The satin of her sapphire gown shimmered in the light, providing a brilliant contrast to the muted golden skin of her bosom. In truth the dress she wore seemed more suitable for a ball, but James wouldn’t argue with her decision to wear it. The supple material draped her curves in the most enticing way.
She fingered the locket around her neck. Hungry desire shot straight to his groin, and despite knowing she couldn’t be his, he ached to touch her. He didn’t realize he had reached for her until their fingertips connected and a lightning bolt of awareness shot up his arm.
“Don’t touch me!” she whispered harshly, yanking her hand away. “You gave up the right to do so years ago, and I am ever so glad you did. I cannot fathom being married to you.”
She rushed away, stopping briefly to say goodnight to the others, and James watched her go. Whatever he might feel, Amelia had spoken the truth earlier. She’d never cared for him.
James, too, wanted to slip away to his bedchamber and end this tryingly long day but his family would have none of it. First Taviston and Victoria drew him into conversation and then Peyton wanted to update him on all the improvements he’d made to Applewood. It didn’t escape his notice that Tessa avoided him. Her greeting earlier that afternoon had been perfunctory. She’d always been nothing but kind and warm to him in the past, so her current demeanor didn’t bode well.
At last, he found an opening and said his goodnights, hugging his mother one last time. Out in the corridor, he heaved a sigh and started toward the stairs. Before he got there, Tessa darted around him and blocked his way, her pregnancy not slowing her down one bit.
“Leave Amelia be.”
“I—”
“She is engaged, and she couldn’t be more delighted. I will not allow you to spoil her happiness again.” Tessa’s pale eyes were frostier than he’d ever seen them.
“Again?” James repeated. “I gave her the opportunity to experience a Season, which was all she could think about.”
“She didn’t get to experience that Season because we were in mourning for my father, though I use both of those words loosely,” Tessa whispered fiercely. “By the time she made her debut last Season she no longer cared so much. Kensworth has brought her to life again and she is happy at last. Again, I say, leave my sister be.”
He realized Tessa was angry, but he was also becoming more so by the minute. He’d not even been home one day and yet his entire family felt it necessary to air their opinions about Amelia and him, when in truth the two of them had hardly spoken. He was no longer the immature lad they all obviously thought they could lecture, but he wasn’t going to overreact. Emotions were running high as it was.
Taking a deep breath, he said in a low voice, “I apologize for the timing of my arrival, but I had no idea the family would be in the midst of wedding preparations. Be assured, I have no intentions whatsoever in regards to your sister. And I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t ring a peal over my head when I’ve done nothing to warrant it.”
One word of reproach formed in his conscience. Dinner. He waited for Tessa to call him on his vulgar behavior, rather sick at the thought the females of his family might have noticed the betrayal of his desire as his brothers had.
Tessa had always been protective of her sister. Indeed, Tessa’s efforts at shielding her sister were what had led him to offer to marry Amelia. Lord Lytham had been bent on both destroying Tessa and Peyton’s lives and acquiring a strip of land from Amelia’s father. When Tessa was no longer available due to her marriage to Peyton, he’d contracted with Lord Bedlington to marry Amelia. James had stepped in and offered marriage to himself in order to save her. In the end though, Lytham was dealt with and Taviston had caught up with James and Amelia on their way to Gretna Green. Marriage had no longer been necessary, and James had honorably stepped back so Amelia could have her heart’s desire, a Season and a search for true love.
“I’ve only ever wanted the best for Amelia,” he said now to Tessa.
Her expression softened and she nodded. “Marriage to Kensworth is what’s best for her. See that you remember that.”
Tessa, like Taviston, had a habit of acting more like a parent than a sibling but James wasn’t going to point out that Amelia should and could determine for herself what made her happy. Clearly, she had made that choice in agreeing to Kensworth’s proposal.
“I shall hardly be able to forget it, but may I ask that you remember something as well, Tessa? You are Amelia’s sister, not her mother. She’s capable of speaking her mind and has.”
Tessa’s eyes darkened and he had no doubt she had plenty to say to that, all of which he was too exhausted to hear. “Goodnight, Tessa.”
He stepped around her and nearly ran up the stairs.