Page 14 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
“He means Purcell,” Edgar said, nudging his brother in the ribs.
Ameliahadseen the performance ofThe Fairy Queenat the Covent Garden opera house. It was an attempt by her mother to lift her spirits, but she had found the performance lackluster. She came away feeling more miserable than at the start.
“I saw it, yes. But I didn’t care for it. All the parts sounded off-key,” she said, and Edgar nodded.
“Yes… absolutely… you’re completely right,” he said, and Amelia smiled.
She had the feeling he would have agreed with her either way, even as she had no intention of courting either of the men’s affections. They were amusing in their own way, but nothing compared to Rupert. The locket felt heavy around her neck. It was a constant reminder of all she had lost. With Rupert, Amelia had always felt entirely at ease, and his company was effortless.
But here, surrounded by strangers, albeit friendly ones, she was reminded of the burden she carried, and of what she had lost. Whenever she was distracted by an amusement or a pleasant word, her thoughts would return to her loss, to Rupert, and a sudden sense of guilt would overtake her. It was not that Rupert would wish her to live her life this way, but Amelia found it hard to let go, and was surprised at her feelings towards the earl.
“Would you like some mulled wine?” he asked, turning from a conversation with Clara, much to Amelia’s relief.
“Oh, thank you,” she said, glad to have an excuse to extricate herself from the attention of the twins.
Edgar and Hugh looked somewhat disappointed to be interrupted in their attempts at seduction, but Amelia was tired of being the object of their attention, even as she was glad to have that of Nicholas. He smiled at her, directing her towards the refreshment table. There was to be no formal dinner that evening, and the guests were later to help themselves from a selection of food to be laid out on the sideboard in the dining room, doors to which stood open from the drawing room.
It was a novel approach to dining, but one Amelia had rather enjoyed, and the earl now poured a glass of mulled wine for her, handing it to her in exchange for the half drunk eggnog. As he did so, their fingers brushed against one another, and Amelia held his gaze, a shiver running down her spine at his touch.
“They can be somewhat overbearing, can’t they?” he whispered, glancing back to where Edgar and Hugh were whispering to one another in the far corner of the room.
“Oh… it’s quite all right. It’s just… I’m not used to… attention,” Amelia replied, feeling the sudden weight of the locket around her neck.
The earl looked at her in surprise.
“Is that so? I… well… don’t let them trouble you,” he said, and Amelia smiled.
She did not know the extent to which the earl knew of her circumstances. Rupert’s loss at sea had been the topic of conversation in every drawing room and salon in the capital, but that did not mean news of it had reached the provinces.
“It’s just… well, my betrothed was… lost at sea. We were to be married. I find such attention difficult,” Amelia said.
There was no point in lying to him. She had been surprised at the force of her feelings towards him. Though she decided her initial reaction was relief at being rescued from the snow, rather than impassioned desire.
Those feelings were mixed with a sense of loyalty towards Rupert. She found her hand grasping the locket around her neck, clasping it as though desperately clinging to something she knew to be lost. The earl looked at her sympathetically.
“Yes. Clara and Isobel told me about your betrothed. I was sorry to hear it. The sea can be a cruel mistress. I’m reminded of it every day when I look out of the window. I’m not a sailor myself. I’ve never set foot on a ship, but the waves crashing on the cliffs are enough for me to know the sea deserves respect. You do his loss an honor with your memory of him,” Nicholas said.
Amelia was grateful to him for his words, though she knew her mother would not like to think she was garnering sympathy from their host. The very point of accepting the invitation was to leave the past behind her, but Amelia could only admit her feelings were even more confused. She had been at Ashworth House, and in the company of the earl, for just a few hours, and already she feared her feelings for him were confused.
“It was a terrible loss,” Amelia said, still fondling the locket in her hand.
The earl nodded.
“I really am very sorry. I hope you can find some peace here,” he replied.
Amelia took a sip of the mulled wine. It was warm and comforting, the aroma of orange and spice perfuming the air. She met his gaze and smiled.
“I already have,” she said.
It was true. The house, the welcome, the company of the others was a tonic to her misery. In London, she had thought of nothing else but Rupert. But here, surrounded by so many distractions, her thoughts were different, even as she had felt guilty for them being so. Little by little, she hoped to find healing, and perhaps even a new future, too.
“I’m glad to hear it. And I really am very glad to have you here,” he said.
He was shy, but his words were sincere, and Amelia’s heart skipped a beat. She smiled at him, just as a voice behind interrupted them.
“Nicholas, why isn’t there any music?” one of the guests said.
Amelia turned to find the women she had been introduced to as Constance Kent, looking pointedly at Nicholas, who began to apologize.
