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Amelia was searching for Kensworth. A dance between them would sink half the gossip floating around; unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. Neither was James, but she told herself that was neither here nor there.
Well, she had other work to do. Leaving her sister with a friend, she drew a bracing breath and sought out the Strettons.
“Good evening, sir, my lady.” Fortunately, she had more than a passing acquaintance with the portly baron and his handsome wife, thanks to Stephen’s political ambitions.
“Lady Amelia, how good to see you.” Lady Stretton squeezed her hand warmly, and Amelia knew that this woman, unlike many others in the room, meant the greeting.
Lord Stretton sketched Amelia a graceful bow. He wagged his finger at her and said teasingly, “You could have gone far with Kensworth, my dear.”
“Stretton! Do mind your tongue,” Lady Stretton admonished, her blue eyes flashing. She seemed unaware of her husband’s playful tone, and Amelia noticed how rigidly Lady Stretton held herself away from her husband. At previous dinner parties, one would have been hard pressed to slide a piece of paper between the two of them.
“It’s quite all right,” she said, knowing the truth of Stretton’s sentiment. She could have risen on Stephen’s star and become a great political wife. However, she, like James, didn’t need the glaring light of the public eye upon her. She could help her country in much quieter ways.
“I know I’ve given up a worthy gentleman, but I’m certain he will be the better for it.” She smiled and turned the subject to meet her ends. “I hear you’ve recently visited Scotland?”
Lady Stretton glossed over the beauty of the Highlands in order to extol the virtues of her first grandchild. Even Stretton interjected a grand statement or two about the child’s traits.
Amelia let them have their say, nodding and agreeing whenever appropriate. Finally, Lady Stretton seemed to have exhausted herself on the subject and Amelia asked a more pertinent question.
“Were you returned in time to witness Lady Doncaster’s behavior at the Malmford soiree?” Said event had taken place on the night Stretton was in Wanstead.
“Yes,” said Lady Stretton.
“No,” said her husband.
Amelia pretended not to notice their contradictory answers.
“Stretton was home with the ague. Lady Don should clearly be kept at home; I do wonder at her husband’s judgment,” Lady Stretton said with a brittle smile, as if she felt the same about her spouse.
Amelia nodded. “I feel sorry for her. She was always such a social creature. It must be terribly difficult for her to be shut away from everyone simply because she forgets herself now and then.”
After that, at the first opportunity Amelia slipped away. She had what she needed. If she were a betting woman, she’d say that Stretton was conducting an illicit liaison, and his wife knew it.
Now to find out who Stretton’s paramour was.
Searching the room, Amelia spied out an old schoolmate. “Eliza! Don’t you look especially lovely tonight.”
Eliza Cranstoun’s eyes lit up as if she’d been handed the crown jewels, but her words were sympathetic to the point of nauseating. “Oh, you poor darling! The distress you’ve been through. How can you abide the strain? What can you have been thinking to give up Kensworth?” Her dark eyes narrowed, and her voice lowered to a whisper. “Did he treat you so abominably, then?”
Knowing Eliza to be an incomparable disseminator of gossip, Amelia fed her only what she wanted circulated. “Oh, no. Kensworth is a fine, honorable gentleman. We simply didn’t suit.”
“Pish!” Eliza hooked her arm through Amelia’s and leaned her pale face close. “He must be a terrible brute, as big and brawny as he is.” She shuddered, but Amelia didn’t think it was in fear. “Tell me, did he hurt you? Was he more than you could bear?”
She’d always known her schoolmate was fast, but tonight the woman seemed an absolute horror. “Kensworth is as gentle as a kitten, and he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. In truth, he deserves someone much better than me.” She continued quickly, unwilling to give Eliza more time to contemplate Stephen. “But listen, I wanted to ask you about something else. I, well, I’m not certain I should mention any names...”
Eliza steered her to a corner of the room. “If you cannot ask me, you cannot ask anyone. What do you want to know?”
Chewing her lip, Amelia hesitated before saying, “I fear the Strettons’ marriage is in trouble. They don’t seem as close as they used to be.”
“Hmm, I wonder how much longer before everyone else figures out all is not well there,” Eliza mused with some pleasure.
Amelia put her hand over her chest, as if she were distressed, when in fact she merely wanted to calm her thumping heart. She was about to find her answer. James’s answer. “Dear me, who can have captured Lord Stretton’s eye?”
Eliza shook her head. She flipped open her fan and waved it, smiling smugly. “It’s not who, it’s what.”
“I don’t understand,” Amelia said, not having to pretend at confusion.
“Don’t you?”
“What are you saying?”
Eliza continued to nonchalantly fan herself, and her perfectly coiffed dark curls bounced as she shook her head. “Ah, ah, ah. I don’t give away information for free. It’s my only source of pleasure.”
Amelia dropped all pretense. “What do you want?”
“An introduction to Kensworth. It seems the two of you are still on good terms.”
Amelia bit back a groan. Again, she would have to choose between Stephen and James. Nonetheless, it was a quick decision. Kensworth, with fair warning, could take care of himself.
“But of course,” she said. “What do you know?”
“Stretton has been taking instruction in the Catholic faith at a church near Wanstead. His wife nearly suffered an apoplexy when she found out.”
Amelia maintained a blank expression with difficulty. She was glad the Strettons’ marriage wasn’t in trouble, but if the baron converted to Catholicism, he would lose his seat in Parliament and jeopardize the reform movement.
Apparently unsatisfied with Amelia’s reaction, or lack thereof, Eliza said, “I have no idea why you’d care.”
“No.” Amelia shrugged. “You wouldn’t.” Then she practically skipped off.
She’d done it! She had obtained information that James had been after for weeks.
She circuited the room in search of him, but he was nowhere to be found, so when she spied her former fiancé’s broad shoulders she veered in his direction. He must be alerted about Eliza, and with any luck an amiable dance with Amelia would put a cap on a successful night of preserving his reputation.
As for her information, at the end of the day she knew where to find James.
***
JAMES RETURNED TO TAVISTON House hours later, and the butler admitted him with a dignified greeting.
“Halston, are the others still out?”
“No, my lord. I believe everyone is returned and they have retired early.”
“Good-night, then.” James turned and headed up the stairs, weary.
He’d followed David to a tavern where the younger man met with Hal Stickney. James was surprised to see Stickney in London. True, the young lad had expressed his desire to come to Town, but his rendezvous with David was more than a little suspicious. Aside from the Hampton Club, the two men didn’t have much in common. That one mutual interest, however, sparked concern.
In the end, though, nothing came of it. While tossing back three glasses of ale each, the two carried on like any other pair of young men, laughing and flirting with the serving girl. James couldn’t get close enough to hear their conversation, but when they left the tavern, each headed a different direction. James chose to follow David, who simply went home.
He reached the second floor and turned toward his bedchamber, trying not to think of Amelia tucked into her bed just down the corridor, especially not upon remembering how the sight of said lady in her wrapper and nightdress had undone him once before. His groin tightened at the searing memory of her breast filling his hand, and in frustration he loosened his cravat and yanked it off. By the time he reached his door, he had his coat off as well and tossed both items on the bed. A small fire flared in the fireplace, warming the room comfortably, so his waistcoat went next.
If he remained in England, he would have to hire a valet. His brother’s man was doing twice the work and yet refused to take additional wages. After this mission was complete...
After. Everything was after. He had put his life on hold until his work was done. He’d done that willingly in Europe for three years but having to do so now chafed.
He tugged off his shirt, pushed his spectacles back up his nose and searched atop his chest of drawers for his comb.
Whish.
“Meow.”
“Arthur?” James whipped around to see Victoria’s cat leaping down from the shadowy corner chair.
No, Arthur jumped down from someone’s lap.
Amelia’s lap.