Page 20

A fter the excitement of the treasure hunt, the ball was always going to be second best.

Amelia tried to do justice to the occasion.

She went to her bedchamber and changed into her best ballgown which was refurbished from the previous year.

It was only the previous year that she’d begun to start to feel she might almost be ready to return to the marriage mart.

She’d been admired and felt a stirring of interest in a young man whose intentions had, it transpired to her embarrassment, been more focused in toying with Amelia’s affections in order to stir up the jealousy of the young lady he eventually married.

It had made Amelia feel something of a fool. She had, fortunately, not fallen in too deep, but it was a reminder that her beloved Thomas was a man apart. There would only ever be one Thomas with precious few more good men like him in the world.

So, although she might appreciate Sir Frederick’s handsome jaw, his athletic physique, and his charm, she must remember that he was like most other men similarly blessed with good looks—and a great many who weren’t.

The interest he professed in the ladies was to further the interests of no one else but himself.

And yes, the treasure hunt had been staged. Every trio had discovered some “treasure” relating to Miss Pernilla and her tragic love story. Every trio had been similarly duped and there was no ghostly apparition who stalked the corridors, Lady Pendleton had admitted.

“I think it was badly done of her,” grumbled Miss Playford just before they went to their rooms.

“It was a game, Miss Playford. We all knew that,” Amelia had said, trying to cajole her into brighter spirits so she could enjoy the ball with renewed enthusiasm.

But Sir Frederick had surprisingly agreed with the young lady. “It’s no fun when someone toys with one’s emotions, as Lady Pendleton is guilty of doing.”

“Toying with our emotions?” repeated Amelia. “We knew it was a game.”

“Did we?” His look was dark as he shook his head. “No, we entered into the spirit of it as if it were real. No one likes to feel they engaged a piece of themselves—” and he tapped the left side of his chest “—only to feel they’ve been played like a fool.”

And his words had Amelia wondering all the way to her room and as she changed, whether Sir Frederick really had ever had his heart broken because he was, she was sure, a philanderer who had no real heart to be played with.

Not only did she know that herself from experience, but Thomas had given an excoriating assessment of him just before he’d gone into battle.

The battle from which he had never returned.

*

And now the dancing was in full swing and Miss Playford was in company with her friends, the other Miss Ps—all blonde, petite, vivacious, and highly suitable for Sir Frederick if Amelia could only engineer such matters.

Which she must do if her dreams were to come true…she supposed.

“Would you do me the honor of this dance? A set is just forming.”

She looked up, surprised that Sir Frederick had asked.

But she could not refuse. She knew him too well and it would be churlish.

And she did like to dance. In fact, she’d miss dancing after she retired to the country, but not as much as she’d miss reading books and exercising her own will, which she’d have to give up if she were to wed.

She smiled, placing her hand upon the arm he offered, and together they crossed the room and took up their places.

“Miss Playford is rather charming, don’t you think?” Amelia asked him.

“Far more so that I’d thought initially,” he said, smiling. “There is a certain artlessness when she drops the facade of being on display that makes her a great deal more interesting than she appears now.”

They both turned to glance at the young lady in the midst of her group of friends, with several chaperones a short distance away. Miss Playford was speaking in a very animated fashion, but the glances she directed towards some of the eligible young men in the room were plain to see.

“I think she’s too young to get married.”

This was not what Amelia wanted to hear. “She’s the perfect age. She’s so pliable and ready to please. Any gentleman in want of a wife would struggle to do better.”

“But who wants a wife like that?” asked Sir Frederick, beginning the dance. “No, a young lady who has her own views and opinions is far more interesting. An intelligent young lady who takes the trouble to discover what she thinks first is far more appealing.”

Amelia was even more surprised. Then she said, “That is not very charitable to Miss Playford who, I believe, displayed intelligence, depth, and humor.”

“I thought the same until you made the remark that she appears pliable and willing-to-please,” said Sir Frederick. “And, as I place a great deal of store in your opinion, Miss Fairchild, that was my answer.”

Amelia felt he could have knocked her down with a feather and cautioned herself to be more careful in future. If Sir Frederick could be swayed by her opinion, then she’d have to paint a potential wife in very different terms.

“What are you looking for in a wife?” she asked.

“I’m not looking for a wife,” he said simply, and Amelia blushed hotly to think he might imagine she was asking for herself.

“Just as I am not looking for a husband,” she said quickly. “As soon as I—”

“Yes, yes, as soon as you get your inheritance, you’re retiring to the country,” he repeated with a sigh.

Amelia stared at him, open-mouthed. He seemed in low spirits suddenly, so she asked, “And what will you do as the season progresses and then the new year is upon us? Do you plan to go adventuring? Men have so many choices.”

“You say that as if you were envious,” he said, frowning. “Sometimes choice is not as grand as it’s made out to be. Sometimes, one has no choice but to do something one really doesn’t want to do.”

This was such a quixotic remark and Amelia was quite dying to discover what he meant and to be furnished with a concrete example, but then it was time to change partners and she found herself looking up into the eyes of Mr. Greene who sent her a wolfish smile and asked her if she’d discovered the final fate of tragic, bogus Miss Pernilla as they had, though not everyone had been so clever.

His clear self-congratulation and the pompous way he phrased his question really irked Amelia, so she was glad there was little chance to offer more than a simple affirmation before she was required to perform a do-si-do to the side, returning a few seconds later at which point she decided to change the subject, saying, “And I couldn’t help observing how greatly Miss Caroline appeared to be enjoying herself.

Her brother was part of our investigative team, and he told us all about the plans she has for her future.

” Amelia smiled ingenuously. She was not surprised at the stiffness of his response.

“Indeed, Miss Caroline has told me all about her future with her very own lips.” He looked smug. “She happened to be in my investigative team.”

Amelia nodded, smiling. “Yes, a charming young lady I thought when I met her, with much in common to discuss regarding the peculiar difficulties of our respective futures.”

Mr. Greene sent her a condescending look that showed his skepticism at Amelia’s comment. But as he was clearly as impatient a man as Amelia had pegged him, he finally said, with clear reluctance at having to ask, “And what do the pair of you have in common?”

Amelia responded as if she’d even forgotten her remark, saying, “Oh, just the frustration of not being able to wed before we are twenty-five, unless our future husband is prepared to wait that long for a dowry or inheritance. It is simply vexatious the number of husbands whose interest suddenly dissipates at such a revelation.”

And then their partnership was at an end and suddenly Amelia found herself once again in close proximity with Sir Frederick as they waited to perform a figure with the person beside them.

There was just enough time for Sir Frederick to remark with a frown, “You look surprisingly pleased with yourself. And after such a coze with Mr. Greene, I couldn’t help but notice.”

“Could you not?” Amelia asked, grinning. “That is because I planted a seed that I think will make him regard your sister in a slightly different light.”

“You did?”

“I said that the pair of us had been commiserating at the sudden loss of interest shown in us by eligible gentlemen upon learning we come without dowry or inheritance before we are twenty-five.”

Sir Frederick’s grin turned to a rueful smile. “If only that were true. In Caro’s case, at least. I gather it is true for you, and I’m sorry that it has caused you angst.”

“Not in the slightest. I had no desire to wed after losing my Thomas. And already I’m what most gentlemen would call ‘long in the tooth’. My marriageable days are over, Sir Frederick, and do I rue the fact?” She shrugged. “I do not. But as for Caro, I hope that will give Mr. Greene pause.”

“He will soon learn that you have misled him.”

“Eventually. But if he withdraws interest in Caro, and she learns the truth, she’ll know he was only after her money.”

Amelia didn’t get the chance to see his response, for suddenly she was claimed by her next partner.

Nor did she see Sir Frederick for the rest of the set and it was only as she was glancing about the emptying ballroom, surprised that the time had gone so fast and she had enjoyed herself so much, that she observed Caroline by the doors to the tower room, half hidden by a large vase festooned with flowers.

At first Amelia thought the girl was admiring the floral magnificence before she realized that Caroline was weeping piteous tears, which she was trying to hide from her chaperone, who stood a few feet away, apparently quite oblivious as she gossiped with some other matrons.

“Caro, what has happened? Shall I fetch your brother?” Amelia asked, concerned, as she sidled up to the girl.