Page 128 of The Lyon Whisperer
Lady Frommer moved forward to stand beside Amelia. She wrapped one arm around Amelia’s shoulders in a clear show of support. “You mustn’t blame your wife, Lord Culver. I’m afraid I insisted. She tried her best to dissuade me, but I would not be put off. Naturally, once she agreed, Lady Selbie and Lady Culver refused to stay behind.”
“Naturally.” He sent his wife and the dowager duchess a polite smile and gestured for the ladies to enter the drawing room.
He started to follow.
Fallsgate stayed him with a hand to his shoulder. He sent him a grim smile. “Tick-tock, Culver.”
The party disbandedvery quickly after Lord and Lady Selbie announced they would take their leave.
Lord Selbie issued a curt goodbye to everyone present, saving Amelia for last. With his carriage waiting, his wife already on board, he stood before her, holding her hand in his. It seemed to Chase the marquis spent an inordinate amount of time gazing upon her face—enough so Amelia’s cheeks flushed, though, of course, her demeanor never faltered.
Chase felt his temper going from simmer to boil. He’d had enough of the marquis. First he’d insulted her with his words, now this bold appraisal.
He opened his mouth to tell Lord Selbie to move along, but Selbie’s words stayed him. “Forgive me for staring. You are the mirror image of your mother, Lady Culver. Did you know the two of us were once friends?”
His question forged an instant crack in her placid veneer, as nothing else could have. “I…no.”
Chase flicked a glance at Fallsgate. The man’s hands fisted at his sides as if he wanted nothing more than to wrap them around Selbie’s neck.
“It was a long time ago, before you were born. I’ve often wondered how her one and only daughter turned out.” His mouth curved in a thin smile. “I thank you for assuaging my curiosity. Goodnight, Lady Culver.”
With that he turned and climbed the step to disappear into his carriage. A moment later it began its slow roll down the drive.
Lady Frommer said her goodbyes next. She thanked the two of them for a thoroughly diverting evening and extracted Amelia’s promise to call on her the next time she came to town.
Chase’s aunt and uncle departed immediately after Lady Frommer.
That left a grim-looking Fallsgate. The earl stepped forward as his carriage lumbered into position.
“My lord, it was good of you to come to my firstsoiree.” Amelia sent her father a brilliant smile, but Chase was not fooled by the show of cheerful bravado. Her beautiful eyes seemed to carry the weight of the world.
“I would not have missed this evening for anything,” he said. “How do you think it went, as dinner parties go?”
“I think…” she broke off, her gaze shifting toward Chase. Her delicate chin wobbled.
Enough.
“Amelia, I would like a word with your father. Say your goodnights and give us a moment of privacy,hm?”
She nodded. “Goodnight Father. Safe journey.” She turned and mounted the steps.
Fallsgate watched her go, a troubled expression tightening his features.
Chase waited until the front door closed behind her before rounding on Fallsgate. “How could you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“How could you not give her this one thing?”
“You mean lie? Tell her the evening was an unmitigated success?”
“Yes. Because it was.”
Fallsgate shook his head, the move communicating both irritation and bemusement. “How can you say that? Are you daft?”
“Be careful, sir.”
The earl arched a brow. “I’m merely calling to light the obvious. The conversation managed to highlight not her hostess skills, but her eccentricities. Puppies and the plight of the mad, and controversial reading—and then a tour of the kitchens, by God. Must I remind you, you were tasked with getting Amelia in line? She’s to speak and act and dress as behooves aproperlady per the terms of the bet your uncle lost. At this rate your uncle—and, ultimately you—will end up bankrupt.
