Amelia had never seen boxing before, and she was rather intrigued. Her mind flashed back to Nicholas’s bare chest the night before—his broad shoulders, the toned muscles of his arms, and his flat abdomen...
“Don’t you agree, Amelia?” Florentia asked.
She hadn’t heard a word her sister-in-law had said. Everyone was looking at her expectantly, even her husband. “Of course,” she said, glancing at Nicholas and then away.
“Good, then I shall see you in the morning,” she said to Amelia, who still had no idea what she’d agreed to.
“I should crawl back to my hidey-hole,” Beaumont said, rising. “I’ve another letter for Collette,” he told Nicholas as he passed him. “Do you think you can manage to have it sent?”
“It’s dangerous to send her too many letters. If someone sees them and makes the connection that you are here, we’ll all be in jeopardy.”
“That’s why I’ve asked you for help,” Beaumont said, patting his shoulder. “You always were the best at slipping through enemy lines.” He gave Nicholas a slap on the back and opened the door, made a point of looking left and right, then made a dash for it. Lady Florentia sighed.
She had gathered her papers and rose to go, also passing her brother on the way to the door. “Of all of your friends, why must he be the one to take up residence?”
“It’s not permanent,” Nicholas said, his voice gentler than Amelia was used to hearing it. “And he needs—”
“Our help. Yes, I know. Would that he had asked one of the other Survivors for help. The one in Scotland, for instance.” She reached up and kissed Nicholas on the cheek. “Good night,” she said. “Good night, Amelia,” she said then left them alone.
Alone with Nicholas was exactly the place Amelia did not want to be. “I should take Sweetie back to the barn,” she said. Hearing her name, Sweetie looked up and trotted over.
“Have a footman do it,” Nicholas said.
“I’d rather—”
But he had already opened the door and called for a servant. Amelia recognized the man as one whom she had seen scratching the pig’s ear and slipping her sweets, so she allowed him to take Sweetie, who was eager to go once he mentioned the word sweets to the pig.
Nicholas closed the door, and they were alone again.
“If you wanted to speak with me, you might simply ask,” she said. “I don’t like being managed.”
“I haven’t managed you.”
She raised a brow. “You’ve done everything but ordered me to stay.”
“I object to that characterization.”
“Very well. Good night, then.”
His hand shot out, catching her arm. She shot him an accusatory look, and he rolled his eyes. “I’ve been told I can be a bit heavy-handed.”
“A bit?”
“Will you stay a moment and speak with me?” he asked.
“If the expression on your face just now is any indication,” she said, “that must have been painful.”
“The request wasn’t painful. The realization that you may refuse me, for good reason, is.”
“I won’t refuse you,” she said, softening. She stepped back so she was in front of him, and his arm dropped away. She missed his touch already, but she would not think of that. “What did you want to discuss?” she asked.
“I...” he began. He turned and paced away for a moment then looked back at her. But instead of speaking, he seemed at a loss for words again. Now he was making her nervous, and as the silence dragged on, she hurried to fill it.
“Why does your sister dislike Mr. Beaumont?” she asked.
“Pardon?” He turned and gave her a bewildered look.
“Your sister. Why does she dislike him?”
“I suppose because when she came out, she liked him a great deal and the sentiment was not reciprocated.”
Amelia had not expected this response. “She was in love with him?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but she’s always had a soft spot for him, and you see how he is. I don’t think he meant to encourage her.”
“He’s very charming. I can see why half the ladies in London fancied him.”
“More than half, and not a one ever turned his head until Collette Fortier. He’s left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, and my sister has one of them.”
“Is that why she never married?”
He raised his brows. “Because of Rafe? No. I can’t say he didn’t contribute to her dim view of the institution of marriage, but he’s not the reason.”
“What is the reason?”
“That’s for her to tell.”
She nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” She looked down at the carpet, digging her slipper into the thick blue and gold material. “I never thought I would marry. All of my friends my age married years ago.”
“I suppose you regret marrying now,” he said.
Her head jerked up. “Why should you say that? I dare say I married better than any of them.” She gestured about the room. “After all, you are the son of a marquess, you have a large stately home and piles of blunt.”
“I don’t know about piles.”
“A large breeding stable, gardens, dozens of servants.”
He took a step toward her, and she trailed off.
“And you don’t care a whit about any of that.”
She shrugged. “The money is nice.”
“Which is why you haven’t spent so much as a shilling of it. No shopping trips to the village, no redecorating, no summoning a modiste from Town to make you new dresses.”
Amelia looked down at her dinner dress, which was perfectly lovely, if a few years out of date. “Should I summon a modiste?”
“Not on my account. I prefer you in nothing at all.”
Amelia gave him a wary look. Last night she would have leapt at the chance to flirt with him. But tonight...after he had all but kicked her out of his bed the evening before, she was not so eager to be rejected again. “What is it you wanted to speak to me about?” she asked. “You were about to say something before I brought up your sister.”
He took a breath, let it out, then took another. “I owe you an apology,” he said. His voice was strong, but his hands were clenched at his sides. “I upset you last night.”
“You all but booted me out of your bed,” she said.
“I should have explained before we—er, began. I like to sleep alone.”
“I see. Then I would have known I would be booted out before it happened.”
He gave her a dark look. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just felt...”
She waited, but he didn’t seem to be able to find the words.
“Vulnerable?” she suggested. He gave a slight nod. “I’m familiar with the feeling.”
“Very well. I deserved that. You have been vulnerable with me. And I—I did promise to show you my legs, and I...”
“This is the thing you do not understand, Nicholas,” Amelia said in a tone so filled with exasperation that he looked at her in surprise. “I do not care about your legs. To you, your injury is a huge weight you carry on your back. You keep setting it down between us. You want me to take some of that weight and carry it too, but I don’t want it. And you don’t need me to carry it. We can throw it off a cliff and be free of it.”