Page 30 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
“Don’t be so rude about her. You don’t know her. Give her a chance,” he said.
He had thought of little else but Amelia since their encounter in that very room the night before. He had not intended to kiss her. There had been no grand plan of seduction, no intent on his part to lead her into scandal. But there was no doubting the passion between them, and which had welled up over the course of the day.
He had been reticent at first, knowing how much she missed the man whose locket she wore around her neck. But Nicholas had not acted in a rakish manner, or with assumed bravado. He had not acted dishonorably, and the fact of their kiss had done nothing to embarrass her, or so it seemed.
“I gave her a chance last night. I found her lacking in every way,” Constance replied, and Nicholas knew he could never persuade her to think anything different.
Constance had damned Amelia, and damned if she would stay.
“I can’t say I agree with you. I found her to be impressive,” Nicholas said, and Constance gave an exasperated cry.
“Oh, really, Nicholas. What nonsense. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, I won’t stand here and listen to you talk like that. I’m going upstairs for a lie down,” Constance said, and with that, she left the library, slamming the door behind her.
Nicholas sighed and shook his head. Constance presented something of a difficulty to him. She had an expectation about her, one Nicholas was beginning to find difficult to reconcile. She believed she would marry him. There was no question of her not doing so, even though Nicholas had never given her any encouragement in such a belief.
It was as though she had come to believe she was his only choice given the question of his legitimacy. He knew there were those who considered him a dangerous person to know. In their eyes he was a man embroiled in scandal. There were many who saw no questions in terms of his legitimacy.
“She’s going to get a shock when she realizes,”Nicholas said to himself. His only reason for inviting her was to allow her to play her part in the exposure of the truth.
Like it or not, Nicholas had known Constance longer than any of the other guests, and if anyone was to hold the key to his past, it was her. He poured himself a glass of brandy, sitting down on the chair in which Amelia had sat the night before. He pictured her there, her head tilted to one side, the coquettish look on her face, her smile.
“She really is very beautiful,”he thought to himself, closing his eyes, and allowing the pleasant memory of their unexpected encounter to drift through his mind.
He could taste Amelia’s lips on his, smell her perfume, feel the clasp of her hands on his arms, pulling him into her embrace. Had it been her who had kissed him? He did not know how it had happened.
It was a kiss shared and enjoyed, but entirely unexpected. The thought lingered, his eyes still closed, and he could only hope Amelia had enjoyed the moment as much as he had done. But where to go from there? There was no question of a courtship, even as Nicholas already found his feelings for Amelia growing unexpectedly strong. He had known her but a day, but there was something about her, something he found intriguing.
“Don’t get carried away with idle fancies,”Nicholas told himself. It was always the same. He fell in love too easily, and he suffered the consequences accordingly.
He poured himself another brandy, swirling it in the glass with a sigh, but a sudden knock at the door caused him to startle, particularly as it was now opened without his invitation. To his surprise, though not his dismay, he found Amelia standing on the threshold with her cheeks red and rosy from the cold.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” she said, closing the door behind her, as Nicholas looked at her in surprise.
***
The rest of the guests had come inside to take tea in the drawing room. The yule log had been rekindled, and tales of their snowy walks were being recounted.
“I think it’s marvelous. I’ve never seen a hothouse like it,” Hugh had said, extolling the virtues of the earl’s cultivation attempts.
Clara and Isobel had walked to the end of the headland and were telling the others about the enormous waves they had witnessed.
“It’s quite extraordinary to see them. They crash on the rocks and break in great bursts of spray,” Isobel had said, and Amelia had listened with interest, intent, though, on making her getaway.
Only her mother had remained silent, saying nothing of her own walk, save that she, Lady Turner, and Lady Thornton had walked in the woods and come across the site where the yule log had been hauled from the evening before. Amelia was anxious to tell Nicholas what she had overheard, and slipping away, she made her way to the library, listening for a moment at the door, fearful the earl might have company. But she could hear no one inside, and knocking, she opened the door.
“Lady Amelia, what a pleasure to see you,” Nicholas said, rising from his chair by the fire and smiling at her.
“I’ve just been walking in the gardens. I overheard my mother, Lady Turner, and Lady Thornton talking about a child, and a secret. It was a mystery of some kind. I didn’t really understand it. Well, I didn’t understand it at all. But I know they’re connected; the three of them, I mean. I just don’t understand how,” she said.
The earl looked at her in surprise, and Amelia blushed. She realized she had made little sense in what she had said. She knew there was a secret that involved a child and concerned her mother, Lady Turner, and Lady Thornton.
From this she could deduce there was a connection between herself, Clara, Isobel, and Edmund. That meant there might be a connection between herself and Nicholas. A dozen possibilities now entered her mind, each more fantastical than the last. The earl stared at her in astonishment.
“Are you sure you heard it all correctly?” he asked, and Amelia nodded.
“I heard the things I heard correctly, yes. But I don’t understand them. Not really. Not all. I thought you might,” she said, realizing she had only deepened the mystery, rather than solving it.
He shook his head and smiled and indicated for her to sit down in the same chair she had sat in the previous evening. He poured himself a drink, offering her one, too, but she declined; it was far too early.
