Page 16 of The Ruin of Miss Amelia Burrowes (The Matchmaker’s Ball #4)
After a long bath to ease her soreness below, Amelia settled herself to dressing for the day. With the assistance of Woods, her maid, she endured the continuous primping, from the application of creams to her whole body, to the donning of her stays, petticoats, and gown—a luscious deep yellow confection that showed off her bosom magnificently—and finally the dressing of her hair. And this for a day in which she wasn’t preparing to leave the house. There was much about the life of a viscountess that she had to learn.
Of course, she wished fervently to appear as ravishing as she could for Nathan. But she’d been used to much simpler toilettes at home. Apparently, that time had passed, and she’d have to be on her toes to keep up with the everyday dress for Polite Society.
Amelia’s shoulders slumped. If she was even to be accepted by the ton . They’d been certain Lady Carrington would take Nathan’s threats seriously and do her part to repair Amelia’s reputation, although deep down, she wasn’t all that surprised. Lady Carrington had never believed Amelia good enough for her son and had treated her accordingly, though Jonathan had never seen it. Or had pretended not to see it, most likely. Still, she wondered what the lady’s excuse would be. Lord, but she’d love to be a fly on the wall when Nathan paid his call on her this morning.
Smiling at that thought, she gazed into the mirror as Woods settled a brilliant teardrop-shaped sapphire around her neck. A gift from Nathan yesterday for their wedding. It was absolutely stunning and although not exactly meant for day wear, Amelia wanted her husband to know she treasured the present. And what better way than by wearing it?
She touched her neck with the glass stopper of her favorite perfume flacon and at last rose to face the first day of marriage. She’d breakfasted in bed for the first time, lazily eating a bite at a time, luxuriating in the knowledge she wasn’t needed anywhere until much later. Now, though, it was time to take the reins and step into the role of lady of the house, the dream that, in recent years, had begun to fade.
With a light step, she hurried down the stairs to find Mrs. Ashworth, the housekeeper, and give directions about the day. After that mostly successful interview, Amelia continued down to the kitchen to confer about dinner. As Mrs. Campbell knew Nathan’s tastes much better than she did, she let the woman suggest several dishes that would be appetizing to his lordship. As they were also foods she herself enjoyed, Amelia was very amenable to the menu for this evening. She’d need to ask Nathan and come up with several days’ worth of menus to present to the cook tomorrow. “And would you send up some tea and cakes to the drawing room, Mrs. Campbell? Lord Ainsley will be returning shortly, and I’d like to offer him some refreshment.”
“Of course, my lady.” The cook looked at her inquiringly. “Do you have your own blend of tea, my lady? Or shall I use his lordship’s?”
“Lord Ainsley’s blend will do for today. I will have some of my blend sent over from my parents’ house for tomorrow.” Amelia had always been fond of a particular combination of black and Assam teas that she’d been blending for years. Funny she’d forgotten to have it sent over, though with so much going on she really shouldn’t be surprised. What else had she left at her parents’ that she’d have to send for?
Chuckling, Amelia climbed the stairs to the first floor and headed hopefully for the drawing room. She’d only been there a time or two, but she must learn the layout of the house sometime. After only one false move, when she’d surprised two maids cleaning the library, Amelia discovered the large green and gold drawing room, splendid in the early afternoon light that poured in from the back garden. Amelia could’ve stood and gazed at the pleasant vista for hours, but just then the tea arrived, and she sat in an elegant Queen Anne chair, covered in a green toile pattern, and helped herself to the tea and cakes. She’d just begun on a chicken and cress sandwich when Nathan opened the door, striding purposefully across the floor toward her, followed closely by Lord Haversham.
“Good afternoon, my dear. Good afternoon, Lord Haversham. You are come at the opportune moment, just in time for tea.” She pulled an empty cup toward her and began to pour then her gaze took in Nathan’s frantic pace and Lord Haversham’s drawn visage. “Is something the matter?”
Her husband halted before her and dropped to one knee, startling her. “I must confess something to you, my love. Two things, in fact. And neither of them would I wish to burden you with, but I am bound by the vows we took only yesterday to be true to you, which means I must tell you everything, whether or not the news will be…discomfiting to you.”
Heart pounding in her chest, Amelia grasped his hands and squeezed them. “Then tell me quickly, love.” She had no idea what had caused this change in Nathan, but a cold dread seeped into her body.
“I have issued a challenge to Mr. Burke to meet me in three days’ time at dawn in Hyde Park or else be branded a coward and a liar.”
As though a hand had suddenly gripped her throat, Amelia could not breathe. She stared at Nathan, not wanting to comprehend his words, but doing so all too well. Her husband had challenged another man to a duel. A duel where the consequences could be maiming or…death. A sudden trembling made the chair she sat on quake. “But, Nathan…why?” She cocked her head, a thousand things running through her mind. “Does it have to do somehow with Lady Carrington?”
A smile played briefly around Nathan’s mouth, but he controlled it. “Only indirectly. I have dealt with Lady Carrington. She will renew her campaign to exonerate you, my dear. Do not fear. We, however, have a more urgent business to attend to.”
“You mean dueling with Mr. Burke?” The blood which had seemed to drain from her entire body came racing back, making Amelia terribly warm.
“Yes.” Nathan avoided her gaze, which increased her sense of dread.
“What could he have done that was so egregious, Nathan?” She didn’t know Mr. Burke well enough for him to have done anything that would call for Nathan to kill him.
Looking as though he were eating ground glass, Nathan thrust a tattered copy of The Morning Post into her hands. He gazed at her, his face as miserable as she had ever seen it.
Frowning, Amelia unfolded the newspaper. “There is something in today’s paper? I have not had a chance to peruse—”
“It’s from three days before our wedding.” Nathan rose and sat in the chair beside Amelia’s, still holding one of her hands, which he seemed loath to give up.
Tears appeared from nowhere, but Amelia tried to blink them back and focus on the broadsheet. Her gaze caught the words “ Miss A. Bur—wes, lately betrothed to Lord A—ly” causing her to stop and read the entire passage. As she read, her mouth dropped open and her hand gripped the paper, crumpling it until she could scarcely make out the words. Her other hand squeezed Nathan’s so she feared his bones might crack.
Finished, she let the Post fall from her fingers. “But it’s lies, Nathan. All lies.”
“I know it is, my love.”
Of course he knew, thank heavens. But all the rest of Society did not. Now they would revile her even worse than before. Never accept her as a member of the ton , nor her sisters, nor her children with Nathan. She turned stricken eyes to her husband. “But why? Why would he lie so egregiously about this?” Her mind hit on the only possible reason. “Was this to retaliate because I would not marry him?”
“Not quite, my dear, although it stems from that fact.” Nathan sighed and rubbed her hand. “After I challenged him, I pressed him to discover what depravity could’ve made him do such a thing.” He shook his head, as though he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “After I spirited you away from Burke, the man became most desperate. He’d spent rather heavily while negotiations were going on with your father, based on his belief he’d soon be in possession of your dowry. When that did not come to pass, and his creditors began to hound him, he came up with a scheme he believed would keep our marriage from taking place.”
“The…the…” Amelia couldn’t think of anything bad enough to call the odious Mr. Burke. “The…worm!”
Nathan’s eyes flashed approval, and he chuckled. “A fitting description, my dear.” Then he sobered and continued. “He came up with this horrendous lie and chose to tell it to Lord Fanon because he knew I knew the gentleman from White’s. He assumed Fanon would immediately inform me, I would be so incensed I would call off the wedding, and he could then step in and marry you instead, your reputation being so ruined no one else would have you.”
“He thought you’d just dismiss me out of hand? Without even hearing my side of the story?” Amelia shuddered to think she’d been on the brink of marrying such a man.
“He doesn’t know me or my nature, my love.”
“And likely judges all other men by his own proclivities.” Lord Haversham came forward, having retired to the window seat while Nathan broke the horrible news to her. “But now he has been hoisted by his own petard.”
Amelia frowned and cocked her head at her husband’s friend. “I beg pardon, my lord?”
“A phrase from Shakespeare, my lady.” He grinned at her. “It means to be caught or harmed by a plan you’ve made to hurt someone else. In this case, Burke was trying to hurt you and Nathan but had no way of knowing his conversation with Fanon had been overheard by someone—he swears up and down he didn’t intend for that to happen—and subsequently published in the paper.”
“Burke’s face became pasty white when he opened the door on us. I suspect he’d expected me to appear the day after he spoke to Fanon, but he chose his vehicle badly. Fanon’s not a gossip, by any means. He either believed the lie to be just that or supposed if I was fool enough to have taken up with a woman with a reputation, I got what I deserved.” He kissed Amelia’s hand, and the familiar warmth his touch always brought finally resurfaced. “And in that, he would be totally correct.”
“And did Mr. Burke accept your challenge?”
“He was…reluctant, my lady.” Haversham chuckled. “But in the end, he couldn’t quite stomach the idea of being branded a coward and did indeed agree to the duel.”
“I will say I am surprised he did.” Amelia set her lips in a thin line. She’d had her fill of Mr. Lawrence Burke, especially now he was threatening the life of the man she loved so deeply. But much as she understood and feared the possibility of a truly horrific outcome—one she could scarcely allow herself to contemplate without going to pieces—she must let her husband know, with an unequivocal certainty, that she trusted and supported him in this decision. “Although I cannot say I’m sorry.”
Her husband jerked his head toward her, as did Lord Haversham, astonishment on both their faces. “Amelia, I thought you’d be more distressed at the prospect of my fighting in this duel.”
“Oh, but I am, my dear.” She clutched his arm, the fear she’d experienced the moment he’d announced the challenge returning full tilt. “I would be devastated if anything untoward happened to you.” Especially at the hands of that worm, Burke. “But knowing the circumstances, I have to say that I agree with you,” she swallowed hard, “wholeheartedly.”
Nathan and Lord Haversham exchanged puzzled glances. “Agree with what, Amelia?”
“That you must meet Lawrence Burke on the field of honor.”
She appreciated the shocked look on their faces—she was shocked to hear herself say it. But she also knew Nathan well enough now to understand he would consider himself a coward if he did not challenge the man. And Mr. Burke certainly deserved his fate at her husband’s hands for what he had done to her and her family. If this scandal was not laid to rest quickly, not only her own reputation, but those of her sisters, Nathan, and any children they might have would be in jeopardy.
“I love you, Nathan.” That was a difficult admission to make in front of Lord Haversham, but she must make her husband understand. “More than I have ever loved any other person. Were the stakes in this not so high, I would never wish to put your life in danger. But as you are the most honorable of men, I know you are making the right decision for us and our family.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “You fight on the side of right, my love, so I believe with all my heart you will prevail.”
With reluctance, Amelia let him go. She gave herself a little shake, then, in need of a distraction, she felt the teapot and rang the bell for the footman. “Some more tea, George. This has grown cold.”
But not as cold as the current state of her heart.
****
The dawn sky had just turned a warmer shade of pink when Nathan and Marcus arrived in Marcus’s carriage at the secluded area near the duck pond in Hyde Park where most duels were fought. His friend had insisted they use his conveyance in the event they were discovered by the constabulary, as it might make it a tad more difficult to ascertain who the combatants were if his coat of arms wasn’t emblazoned on the black lacquer door. Nathan had not put up a fight. He’d been too focused on the one about to commence.
He’d never been one to dwell on the unpleasant thought of death—until now. Not that he had any premonition about the upcoming duel nor any doubts about the necessity of it. However, now that he literally had everything to live for, in the back of his mind was the very real worry that he was about to lose it all for the folly of a weak man who should actually be horsewhipped rather than accorded the dignity of a clean and honorable death.
What had made the past three days bearable—the interminable waiting had threatened to drive him mad—had been Amelia’s steadfast belief that he was doing the correct thing. She never expressed a single doubt, never begged him to turn from the challenge, never gave him cause to doubt that his decision to call out Mr. Burke was anything but just and right. Her presence in his bed had, as well, soothed and assured him that should the worst come to pass and Burke’s aim prevailed, there was every hope he’d be leaving an heir to carry on in his place. They had seemed to spend every waking moment in each other’s embrace and if his delightful wife wasn’t currently increasing, it was certainly not for the lack of trying.
Nathan sighed at the memory of their last joining, just before midnight, when his very spirited wife had managed to roll them so he was suddenly underneath her, gazing up at her beautiful face as she proceeded to pleasure him in ways he could scarcely describe. The image of her sitting atop him, her long hair shimmering around her shoulders, her magnificent breasts bouncing every time he thrust into her made him hard this instant. He shook his head, trying to get that erotic picture out of his head. If he didn’t focus on the coming battle, that exquisitely fulfilling encounter would be his last.
“Burke’s arrived.” Marcus nodded to a non-descript hack that had pulled over onto the grass not far from them. “Shall we?”
With a curt nod, Nathan rose and exited the vehicle, breathing in the fresh morning air and setting his countenance into stern lines. Never give your opponent the slightest idea that you had doubts. Confidence was your ally.
Marcus stepped down beside him, the rosewood box that held Nathan’s matched set of dueling pistols in his hands. He’d never had cause to use them until now, although he’d practiced with them regularly for years. One never knew when the skill would be needed, and that instinct to be prepared for just this eventuality might be the advantage that tipped the whole thing in his favor. “Go do your duty as second.”
He nodded to a gentleman accompanying Burke, who looked around, wide eyed as an owl.
“Ah, that is Mr. Franklin. We met day before yesterday when I gave him your demands for satisfaction.” Marcus chuckled. “I’m not certain whether he was more appalled by your list or his position as second. I rather believe he may flee the scene before we can commence.”
“Burke doesn’t seem much better.” The gentleman who’d caused so much grief to Amelia stood there, pale as pastry, staring at him as though Nathan were the devil himself. Well, there was nothing wrong with that. “Good morning, Burke. Mr. Franklin.”
Nathan’s voice, loud in the calm morning air, made Burke start.
“Good morning, my lord.” The challenged man bowed to him then turned toward Marcus, growing more nervous by the moment. “My lord.”
“Good morning, Burke.” Marcus sounded as loud as the last trumpet. “Mr. Franklin, a word, sir, if you please.”
He marched over to Franklin, who did look as though he would bolt, but Marcus grasped his arm, pulled him to the side, and began to talk in earnest. He then opened the box of pistols and spoke to Franklin. Reluctantly, the man reached into the box and withdrew a pistol, looking as though it were a deadly viper. Marcus spun on his heel and returned.
“Well, the second may swoon at any moment, though he protests that Burke will not meet your list of demands.” Marcus stared at the man, thoughtfully. “I wonder if Burke is made of sterner stuff.”
Mr. Franklin, pale as milk, handed the pistol to Burke, who stared at it as though he’d never seen a weapon before. After a moment, he straightened his shoulders and looked at Nathan. “Shall we get on with it, then?”
“Not just yet, Mr. Burke.” Marcus strode a step or two toward him. “We’re waiting for Mr. Harris to arrive.”
“Who is Harris?” Burke looked at Nathan askance.
“A doctor.” Marcus shrugged. “Not a requirement, perhaps, but it is common practice…for obvious reasons.”
Burke blanched but nodded and turned his back to confer with Franklin.
Nathan drew Marcus aside as well. “You know what to do, if the worst happens?”
“I do.” His friend’s face had been wiped clean of any trace of humor. “I promise to look after both Amelia and Kate to the best of my ability.”
“And if by the grace of God, I have left a son behind…”
“You need not worry. I will see to his raising as you would.”
The sound of a carriage coming at a brisk clip drew their attention to the road.
“And there is Harris.” Marcus fetched the pistol out of the box and handed it to Nathan. “ Bon chance , my friend.” He clapped Nathan on the shoulder. “Aim straight for his heart.”
“I intend to.” Drawing a deep breath, Nathan sent up a prayer for a steady hand, and another for God’s protection for Amelia. Then he sauntered over to where Burke, Franklin, and now the doctor waited. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Harris. You may turn your back now.”
Another common practice so the man could say he saw nothing and thus avoid incriminating himself.
“Mr. Franklin, will you stand here, sir.” Marcus handed him a handkerchief and began to orchestrate the mechanics of the process. They had agreed, when Nathan challenged Burke, to a distance of twenty paces with Burke’s second dropping the handkerchief as the signal to fire. Marcus then paced off the requisite distance for both men and went to stand behind Franklin. “Gentlemen, take your marks.”
Nathan gave Burke a final cold stare, meeting his eyes with a fury that warned the man he would give no quarter. Then he cocked his pistol and turned to walk to the mark in the grass his friend had just made.
“My lord!”
Whirling around, Nathan found himself face to face with Mr. Burke, looking as white as new cheese. A glimmer of hope burst in Nathan’s chest, though he maintained his taciturn countenance. “Yes?”
Wheezing with fear, Burke sounded as though he had the croup. “My lord, I have…I have reconsidered your demands that I admit my folly and apologize for my deceitful and dishonest actions.”
“Yes?” Those were not the only demands Nathan had set to satisfy the debt. “And what of the other stipulations?”
Burke glanced at Franklin, who seemed ready to faint at the least provocation. “Do it,” he mouthed to Burke emphatically.
Nathan waited while Burke dithered a minute more then hung his head and whispered, “I will fulfill all the stipulations you have put forth to satisfy your honor.”
“For the lady’s honor you so callously besmirched.”
Burke nodded once more. “Yes.”
Nathan smiled and uncocked his pistol. “Very well, Mr. Burke. I will apprise you of exactly what you must do and when you will fulfill those demands.”