Page 3 of The Ruin of Miss Amelia Burrowes (The Matchmaker’s Ball #4)

Nathan Locke, Viscount Ainsley, stared at the couple in dismay and cursed beneath his breath. He’d come in search of his sister, Katherine, who’d managed to avoid him for most of the evening. He’d collected the wager he’d won with her, forcing her to dance with his friend, Lord Haversham, whom she disliked severely. Now, instead of finding his recalcitrant charge, he’d stumbled onto some ill-conceived tryst.

The gentleman looked intolerably smug, a veritable cat who’d eaten a very tasty canary. Nathan could see why with one look at his fetching partner. An unusually tall woman in a becoming gown of deep violet, with prettily curled chestnut hair that gleamed in the candles’ glow. A handsome face, round with a generous mouth that the gentleman appeared to have been taking advantage of, to judge by the deepening pink of the lady’s cheeks.

Common sense told him he’d interrupted a sweet interlude between an affectionate couple, though something in the back of his mind niggled at him. Still, it truly was none of his affair.

“If you will pardon us, my lord.” The gentleman stepped toward the lady and tried to take her arm, though she shrugged him off. “You’ve interrupted us at a tender moment. The lady has just consented to be my wife.”

Definitely bad timing on Nathan’s part. “Your pardon then, Mr…?”

“Burke, my lord. Mr. Lawrence Burke of Derbyshire.”

“Mr. Burke.” Nathan bowed solemnly. “My felicitations to you and Miss—”

The sight of the lady’s wide eyes and a slight shake of her head gave him a new meaning for the scene. In Nathan’s experience, young ladies sometimes sought to entrap a gentleman into marriage by being discovered in a compromising position with the man in question. From the lady’s subtle hints, he might be persuaded that, in this case, the gentleman was compromising her for the same reason.

“Miss Burrowes, my lord.” Mr. Burke smiled broadly while the lady in question glanced about as though searching for a hole to drop into.

The name brought Nathan up short, and he peered more closely at the woman. “Miss Amelia Burrowes?”

Her head came up and their gazes met. She swallowed hard. “Lord Ainsley?”

“Yes. I wonder you remember me. It has been ten years, hasn’t it?” A shadow from his past rippled over Ainsley’s soul, calling to mind a moonlit garden and a lingering kiss long ago.

“Eleven, my lord. We met at Lady Somerville’s my first Season out.” She’d taken her hands from in front of her face and now twisted them before her.

“Just so.” He remembered that introduction to the most beautiful woman of the Season distinctly. Then he frowned. “Is it not Lady Carrington? I had heard—”

“No, my lord. I never married him.” She shook her head, her face stark white.

Nathan blinked. She’d never married?

“Miss Burrowes and I were about to announce—” Burke reached for the lady’s arm, but she stepped quickly toward Nathan instead.

“May I beg an old acquaintance to return me to my mother?” Her blue eyes pled eloquently for him to agree to the request. “With so much excitement, being here at a ball after all these years, I seem to have a sudden headache.”

Burke jumped toward her. “I will be happy to escort you, Am—”

“Of course, my dear.” Nathan smoothly slid her arm into the crook of his, cutting Burke off before he could call the woman by her first name, thus imposing a claim of intimacy with her. The idea that Miss Burrowes hadn’t yet bestowed that privilege on Mr. Burke surfaced rather quickly. “I would be delighted.” Glaring directly at Burke, whose pop eyes made him seem ready to have a fit of apoplexy, Nathan steered her toward the door. “I am completely at your service.”

Paying the other gentleman no mind, Nathan escorted Miss Burrowes from the library, her arm trembling beneath his hand.

Burke followed them, glowering.

“Do you indeed wish to go to your mother?” he asked her in hushed tones.

“No, I do not,” she whispered back. “But neither do I wish to continue in Mr. Burke’s company.”

That was an easy request to manage. “Mr. Burke.” Nathan put on his most concerned face, brows lowered, jaw set. “Miss Burrowes feels a bit faint. I will take her outside for a breath of air. Please find a footman and get a glass of lemonade brought to wherever Mrs. Burrowes is currently. We will meet you there.”

Before the man could make a protest, Nathan steered his charge down the corridor toward a veranda that overlooked the rear garden. “I believe that will give us a few moments at least before he returns to search for us.” He opened the French windows, and the lady shot outside, breathing deeply, as though she’d been holding her breath. Indeed, she looked incredibly pale in the moonlight. “Miss Burrowes, are you quite well?”

She paused then composed herself. “Yes, I am well. It’s only that I haven’t been out in Society for such a long time, I am quite overwhelmed by it all.” Another long pause in which she seemed to be contemplating the wisdom of saying more. “Especially by Mr. Burke’s attentions.”

“Are you indeed betrothed to him?” Something in Nathan froze, hanging on her next words as if nothing else in the world mattered.

“Not exactly, no.”

The flicker of something deep within him burst back into life. “Not exactly?”

“My parents are arranging the marriage. I’ve only just met Mr. Burke this evening at dinner. We’re supposed to take the opportunity of the ball to become better acquainted.” Even the faintness of the moonlight couldn’t disguise her distaste at the idea.

“And I interrupted his attempt to do so?” Not as bad as he’d feared, but still not behavior becoming a gentleman. “I’m sorry if I’ve impeded his suit in any way.”

“Do not be, my lord.” Her hand on his wrist startled him, both in its presence there and the warmth it generated within him. “As I’ve said, the match was brought about by my parents.” The liquid blue of her eyes flashed like quicksilver. “I’m submitting to it because, as you well know, no one else has been willing to have me. Not one in ten years.”

“Why not?”

She jerked her head back as though he’d slapped her. “What do you mean? You must know the story. Everyone in the ton does.”

“Except, apparently, me. My father wrote to me in Italy that you’d become betrothed to Lord Carrington. I assumed you married him. I didn’t find out until just now that you did not.” That piece of information still hadn’t registered. “Can you tell me why you didn’t marry him?”

“He died.”

Nathan flinched at the unfeeling tone of her voice. But of course, her grief must be long in the past.

Her gaze on his face didn’t falter.

“May I extend my very belated condolences on his loss?”

“Thank you.” With a choked sigh, she hurried down the veranda steps out into the garden, to a bench where she sat, her back almost to him.

He followed—though not too closely, to give her time to compose herself. “You must have loved him very much.”

“So all the gossips in Society say, at least.”

He cocked his head. “I beg your pardon?”

Shaking her head, she straightened, the slight movement giving her a regal stance. “Never mind, my lord. It’s old news, in any case. And I do thank you for your concern.” She took a breath then hesitantly stole a glance at him. “I confess I did wonder what had happened to you. After our last encounter in the garden.”

“Here in this garden, as I recall.” Nathan glanced over at the cherry tree just coming into bud. “Under that very tree, if I remember correctly.”

“You do.”

The admission sent a thrill through him, though he couldn’t fathom the reason. “As to what happened to me, almost the next day I was sent off on my Grand Tour, although with the war raging with France at that time, the tour was not quite as grand as it had been in times past. Still, I was gone for two years, mostly in Italy, although I spent some time in Switzerland, Prussia, and Greece.”

“It must’ve been a marvelous experience.” Her voice, carefully neutral, made him suddenly aware how his disappearance might have seemed to her.

“I would’ve written to you, but I truly had no time before I left for Portsmouth. Then I was on a ship bound for Italy.” Why did he feel the need to explain? He hadn’t thought of that encounter with Miss Burrowes for years, although he had thought about her quite a lot on board the ship. His animosity toward his father for sending him off so quickly—he’d not been allowed to tell her goodbye, even though he’d begged to do so—had lasted for some time as well.

“I understand. I did not pine over it, although I did wonder why you’d sent no word.” She shrugged. “Not too long after you left, I was introduced to Lord Carrington, and we came to an understanding quite quickly.”

A flicker of jealousy ignited in Nathan’s chest. He squelched it almost as soon as it appeared. What good to be envious of a dead man? And why, for God’s sake, be jealous at all of a woman he’d not seen for over a decade? Still, the thought of Carrington with her was distasteful, to say the least. He rose. “Perhaps we’ve stayed away too long. I would not wish to ruin your reputation, Miss Burrowes, when I was trying to save it.”

At that, she laughed until she wept, sitting on the bench with her eyes streaming.

Without a word, he handed her his handkerchief, and she mopped the tears that continued to flood her face. “I am pleased I could lighten your mood, Miss Burrowes.”

She hiccoughed and sniggered then, slowly, the tide turned, and she sobered. “I do beg your pardon, my lord, for that display. But what you said…” She sputtered off again then composed herself. “I am afraid I couldn’t help myself.” Lifting the sodden handkerchief, she waved it at him. “I will have this laundered and returned to you on the morrow.”

“Why not return it to me in person?” Nathan didn’t know where that question had come from. He’d had no intention of suggesting they meet again. Except that, now that he thought about it, he did wish to see her. Perhaps the memory of Miss Burrowes and their encounter under the cherry tree had not been as deeply buried as he’d believed. “Allow me to take you for a carriage ride tomorrow afternoon.”

That seemed to stun her, for she sat for several moments, pulling at the soaked handkerchief so hard he feared it would tear. “I am sorry, Lord Ainsley, but I cannot. My parents are in negotiations with Mr. Burke. I doubt they would approve such an outing.” She rose and sighed. “Please escort me to my mother, my lord. I am certain she wonders where I am.”

“Of course, Miss Burrowes.” He offered his arm, almost fearing she wouldn’t take it.

After hesitating, she finally rested her hand lightly on it, and they made their way back inside Lady Hamilton’s townhouse. The heat was suffocating after the cool outdoors and seemed to get worse as they silently wound their way toward the ballroom amidst the din of a ball in full swing. Miss Burrowes seemed to shrink toward him, now gripping his arm as though it were a lifeline. Did she fear crowds so much? She’d said she’d not been in company much these ten years, though he still wasn’t certain why. When they arrived at the ballroom, awash in light, the dancers swirling around the floor like huge, colorful flowers, he paused, unsure for whom he was looking. “Where is your mother, Miss Burrowes? I cannot recall—”

“There.” She indicated a plump woman with a determined face in a gown of green silk all the way across the room.

“Fortunately, Mr. Burke seems to have dawdled in procuring your lemonade.” Nathan started toward the woman then glanced down at his charge.

Head down, shrinking against him as though to hide herself, Miss Burrowes trembled as she followed him blindly. Was she truly so terrified of being out in company? He did not remember her so. Had isolation in the country brought about such a change? Perhaps he could help remedy that. Carefully, they wound their way around the dance floor until they reached Mrs. Burrowes, who gazed at him in utter shock.

“Lord Ainsley.” After a stunned moment, she curtsied, never taking her gaze from him.

“Mrs. Burrowes. I am honored to meet you again.” Nathan bowed and relinquished Miss Burrowes to her mother.

“How nice to see you, my lord, after all these years.” The lady shifted her gaze from him to her daughter. “Amelia? What has happened? Mr. Burke said you were overcome and would be here directly, but when you did not appear, he went in search of you. I feared you…” She glanced again at Nathan. “I feared you had become indisposed.”

“My fault entirely, Mrs. Burrowes.” Nathan spoke up before Miss Burrowes could put forth any excuse. He wanted his version of the events to be the one she heard first. “I came upon your daughter and Mr. Burke unawares. The shock of both being surprised and seeing me after so many years caused Miss Burrowes to become lightheaded. I suggested Mr. Burke procure her some refreshment and we would meet him here. Unfortunately, your daughter took several more minutes than expected to be restored. But here she is now, and much improved, I believe.”

“Are you quite all right, my dear?” Mrs. Burrowes peered at her daughter, who nodded.

“I am fine, Mama.” Miss Burrowes shot him a look, not quite gratitude but not anger either. “Seeing Lord Ainsley after so many years did give me a bit of a start. But we have been reacquainting ourselves.”

“Thank you, my lord, for looking after her.” The woman’s tone was doubtful but sincere.

“My pleasure entirely, ma’am. I only hope my appearance didn’t cause Miss Burrowes any undue distress.” He raised his eyebrows at the lady in question, who had the grace to blush.

“No, of course it didn’t, my lord.” Mrs. Burrowes looked sharply at her daughter then back at him with a perturbed countenance.

And now for the coup de grace . “Miss Burrowes told me that she is unused to crowded dance floors and ballrooms. So I have suggested she take a ride with me in my curricle early tomorrow afternoon, before the fashionable hour. I am certain the air will do her good. And then she need not worry about too many people being about.”

A furious frown appeared on Miss Burrowes’s face, while her mother became thoughtful.

“I do not think it a good idea, Mama.” With a firm step, Miss Burrowes left his side and flounced over to her mother. “I told Lord Ainsley that earlier when he suggested the outing.”

“I see nothing wrong with a carriage ride with the viscount, Amelia.” The calculating look in the lady’s eyes told Nathan the woman understood well the advantages of her daughter having a titled suitor over an untitled one.

“But Mr. Burke—”

“Mr. Burke must understand that you are not betrothed to him yet, and therefore may accept any invitation your father and I deem appropriate.” Mrs. Burrowes beamed at him. “Lord Ainsley’s suggestion is quite unobjectionable and will likely result in your continued good health as well. I insist that you accept, my dear.”

Opening her mouth, likely to object once more to the invitation, Miss Burrowes caught her mother’s pointed glare and closed it again. She struggled to turn her lips up in a smile as she said, “Thank you, Lord Ainsley. I would be delighted to ride with you tomorrow.”

“Splendid.” Nathan bit back a chuckle as the lady almost gnashed her teeth in frustration. Likely, she was still embarrassed by the scene he’d interrupted with Burke. That mattered little to him. Despite the long gap since they last met, he wanted to renew his acquaintance with Miss Burrowes. If he thought she wouldn’t flee the premises, he’d have asked for the supper dance, although Burke had likely taken that already. Never mind. Tomorrow was his. “I shall look forward to seeing you again most eagerly, Miss Burrowes. We have so much to talk about.”

The lady’s strained look bothered him not at all. Naturally, after such a long time, their sudden reacquaintance might give her pause. But as long as she agreed to accompany him, he had no objection to wooing her affections once more.

“Until then, ladies.” He bowed just as Mr. Burke appeared at the entryway behind them, a glass of lemonade in hand and a scowl on his lips as he glanced about the room.

With a smile, Nathan turned and left. Timing was, as always, everything in a courtship.