Page 52 of The Baron’s Reluctant Bride (Marriage Mart Scandals #4)

“One must observe, out of sheer curiosity,” Edmund began again, in a charming voice, “I find myself wondering where your interests might lie.”

Amelia’s forehead creased in bemusement. “I’m afraid that I am not entirely clear on what you mean, my lord.”

Edmund smiled warmly, but that hardly made Amelia more comfortable.

“Well, I assume that you must find your own company more refreshing than being amongst others. Hence, why you were by yourself instead of mingling. I would admit that I become curious whenever I come across people such as yourself…who enjoy their own company more…and I daresay there must be something more to them than meets the eye. So, enlighten me, Miss Creswell, is it your travels you think of when you’re alone? Or perhaps, poetry?”

Amelia hesitated, her eyes shifting across the room looking for any respite. Her cousin, Emma, was not yet in the drawing room and she prayed that the doors would suddenly open to reveal her presence.

She returned her gaze to the young lord and the room felt even smaller. Clearing her throat, she said, “I’m afraid I am not well-travelled, nor do I write poems. I have read a few though.”

“I see. Embroidery, perhaps then?”

“Music.” Amelia held back a tired sigh. “To answer your question, my leisure hours are, for the most part, occupied with the practice of the violin or the pianoforte.”

Edmund’s eyes twinkled and he appeared impressed. “Why, that is even better than I imagined. I do have an affinity for the arts myself and music is one that I am in awe of. I am jealous of you, I confess. To be proficient in the pianoforte and the violin is a true gift.”

Amelia managed a smile. “You have yet to hear me play, Lord Felton. Nonetheless, I thank you for your kind words.”

Edmund gave her a charming smile. “Hopefully, I shall have the honour to hear you play someday soon. A lady with such poise and grace as yourself would surely have that reflect in the music she plays.”

A flush crept up Amelia’s cheeks. Usually, this was a conversation that would interest her, but for the life of her, all she could wish for was an escape out of this conversation.

Still, she knew it would be rude to ignore him.

She was left with no choice but to indulge him.

The room buzzed with conversation and the light clinking of teacups against their saucers.

Her legs had grown tired and she decided she would rather sit if she was to spend her afternoon in the company of Lord Felton.

“You flatter me, my lord,” she told him.

“I highly doubt it. I speak only the truth as is.” Edmund smiled, assuming the demureness of her response was a sign of a maiden’s modesty.

Amelia’s lips pressed together and she swallowed.

“Are you quite well, Miss?” Edmund asked, noticing the subtle change in her demeanour.

“I believe I am in need to sit down,” Amelia said. She didn’t wait for him to say another word. Her feet carried her to the closest chair by the window. Edmund followed behind her, and he quickly swung into charming action, holding the chair for her as she sat.

“Shall I fetch you a cup of tea, Miss?” Edmund offered.

Amelia’s eyes twinkled. “Why, yes. That would be most appreciated.”

Edmund nodded once and then excused himself. As soon as he was a reasonable feet away, Amelia released a long breath. She glanced around the room again and suddenly, the doors were thrown open once more. Two more families—the families of Lords Ramsey and Kent—walked in, joining the party.

Just as soon as introductions and greetings were done, Edmund walked over to where Amelia was, two teacups in hand. He handed her one and she muttered a ‘thank you’ to him.

“Tell me, Miss Creswell.” He took a sip from his cup, oblivious to her discomfort.

“You play both the violin and the pianoforte. Do you favour one instrument over the other? I know you must be distinguished in playing both, but it wouldn’t be unimaginable if you didn’t have a higher preference for one over the other. ”

“I learned how to play the violin first. But the pianoforte holds a special place in my heart just as much as the violin does. I cannot say that I favour one over the other,” she told him.

Edmund chuckled. “Ah, I see. You must be one of the rare ones then.”

Amelia faked a smile. “I…I’m not sure that I am. I confess, my preferences are quite my

own.” She brought the cup to her lips and took a healthy sip, wishing she would be left alone to enjoy the rest of it in solitude.

Across the room, Lady Felton diverted her attention from her conversation and cast a gaze at her son and Miss Creswell. Satisfaction welled up in her chest, and for a brief moment, her eyes caught her son’s and she sent him a small nod of approval.

Edmund, armed with more confidence seeing as his mother approved of Miss Creswell, decided he should increase his charm. Surely, Miss Creswell, like any other lady he’d come across, was bound to be swept off her feet soon.

Amelia swept her gaze around the room, her fingers trembling lightly against her teacup. She gently lowered it to the table next to her, pretending to be paying attention to Lord Felton’s tale about his visits to the opera.

“Say, Miss Creswell, I would love a chance to someday soon hear you play,” Lord Felton said, his eyes gleaming.

Dear God, save me, Amelia thought.

Eventually, the tea party drew to a gradual end. More than anyone, Amelia was beyond glad. When the guests started exchanging goodbyes and comments about their expectations for the upcoming summer party, Amelia saw her much-awaited opportunity.

“Lord Felton, it has been a wonderful afternoon, but I would now like to retreat to my room. I am still worn out from the journey,” she explained, not bothering to drag out her reason.

For half a moment, Lord Felton’s smile faltered and the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. He wondered if she had even enjoyed his company at all.

He rose to his feet and held a hand to her. Amelia placed her hand in his and stood.

“I understand, Miss Creswell. You need the rest, no doubt.”

“Certainly.”

“Then, I must bid you farewell, until we meet again.” He bowed a slight in greeting.

Amelia curtsied with grace. “I hope the rest of your day is most agreeable.” Without another moment’s hesitation, she turned and excused herself, hoping she would manage to slip out before anyone would notice.

Lord Felton watched her retreat and concluded they were on a promising path.

Soon, Amelia would warm up to him and he would make his intentions known.

Coming to this party was not merely to socialise.

There would be times for that. For now, he had a duty to his family and Amelia might just be the key to solving that.

The initial step would be a union in matrimony with her.

Reflecting on their conversation, Edmund liked to believe that Miss Creswell would make an agreeable wife. Her grace, demureness and family’s standing surely guaranteed it. So, it would be his personal mission to see that she took his last name at the altar soon.

Meanwhile upstairs, Amelia rushed into her room and closed the door as quickly as she could.

Her breaths were shaky, her hands trembling even more.

She leaned her back against the door and forced herself to exhale calmly.

She would not allow herself to think of the dreadful afternoon she had just endured.

For if she did, then she would also have to consider the prospect of having to endure more of such gatherings.

She closed her eyes and fisted the fabric of her gown. It was surely going to be an eventful couple of days.

Once again, her mind drifted to her brother, Daniel. A long sigh left her lips. In moments like these, all she could wish for was the comfort of his presence. A moment when she didn’t have to be weighed down by society’s expectations.

She opened her eyes and rested them on her bed. Perhaps, for now, she would have to settle for a nap.