“That’s right. I looked all about our house and the yard for her, but all I could find was evidence of her rooting about. I followed it and it ended at your stable. I found the door open and Lord Nicholas sitting with her. We spoke for a moment, and I was just about to return home when you came in.”
“You did more than speak, girl,” the dowager said.
Miss Blackstock’s cheeks colored, but she kept her head up and her shoulders straight, her back not touching the chair where she’d been directed to sit.
“We were knocked off balance by Sweetie, and that is why we were on the ground. We both found the entire situation amusing and shared a kiss. That is all.”
“That is everything!” his mother all but shouted. “Because not only did you share a kiss, you were alone and discovered. If you had been seen by only the family, we might have kept this a secret. But the Kentworths saw you as well as numerous members of our staff. You, girl, are well and truly compromised.”
Miss Blackstock’s face froze in a stunned expression. She went quite pale, and Nicholas could almost see her trying to grasp the implications of everything his mother had said. Then his mother turned her angry gaze on him, and Nicholas felt the blood drain from his face.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded. But she didn’t wait for an answer before she shook her head in disgust. “I never thought I would have to worry about this from you.”
Nicholas would not have wondered why, even if his mother hadn’t gestured to his legs. The dowager couldn’t believe that anyone would want a cripple like him. She’d thought she would have to entice women with a house party at Battle’s Peak and Nicholas’s family name in order to generate interest in him. She really did pity him and think him pathetic. He glanced at Miss Blackstock again. She was watching him, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion. How could she not understand his mother’s implication? How did she manage to look past his injury when no one else could?
“I am a gentleman,” Nicholas said. His mother gave a disbelieving huff. “I will marry her.”
“Yes, you will,” his mother said. “And what a waste of all my plans.” She directed her steely gaze to the marquess. “You will go with him to Doctors Commons for the special license. I want this done quickly and without fanfare.”
“Of course, Mama,” Henry said. The discussion over, his mother and Henry started for the drawing room door.
“Wait a moment.” Miss Blackstock stood. Nicholas realized they had forgotten about her family. Her mother would need to be informed of the plans.
“I will send word to your mother first thing in the morning,” the dowager said, not looking at her.
“There’s no need,” Miss Blackstock said. “I will not be marrying your son.”
Nicholas raised a brow, too surprised to be insulted. He’d only offered to marry her to save her from ruin. Once word was spread that she had been found alone in his presence, practically on top of him, lips locked in a kiss, she would be cast out of all good society. Her entre family would suffer from the scandal. Not only would she not be invited to any more assembly balls, local merchants might refuse to sell them bread or bolts of cloth or seeds for their farmers.
“I don’t see how you have any choice,” his mother said, echoing his own thoughts. “Unless you plan to flee to the Continent, but even that will not spare your mother the shame of your actions.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Miss Blackstock said. “It was a little kiss. Can we not simply explain—” No one cut her off. She seemed to realize the ridiculousness of what she said mid-sentence. “No, of course not.” She sighed, the sound one of utter defeat. She looked at Nicholas then. It was the first time she had done so since they’d been discovered. Her large brown eyes were filled with regret.
She really would refuse to marry him. Even though it meant ruin for her and her family. There could be only one reason for that—she couldn’t stand to marry a cripple.
Four
Lord Nicholas’s expression changed. He’d been looking at her with a mixture of resolve and concern, but now his face hardened. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking when he did that, which was probably exactly the point. She could hardly blame him for being angry with her. No man wanted his marriage proposal refused—even if that proposal had only been made out of duty and obligation. “My lord,” she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. “Might we speak privately?”
“I think you have spent quite enough time alone!” the dowager marchioness said. The marquess leaned down and spoke quietly in her ear. Her eyes narrowed, but whatever he said must have swayed her. “Fine,” she said. “You have five minutes.” And she turned her back and swept out of the room. The marquess followed, closing the door as he left and leaving them in the silence of the large room.
Amelia had never been inside Battle’s Peak before. She knew the outer façade of the house almost as well as she knew Catmint Cottage. But the family did not live or often host entertainments here. They used it strictly as a stopping point when traveling from one home to another or when looking in on their stables. In fact, it wasn’t until Lord Nicholas and his sister had come to Hungerford a couple of years ago that the house had been staffed and inhabited fulltime. Not that it had mattered to Amelia, initially. Her life with her ailing father went on much the same as it always had. And by the time he died, the excitement over Lord Nicholas’s arrival had waned. Lord Nicholas did not seem at all interested in hosting balls or dinners or anything worth gossiping about.
She looked about the drawing room now and tried to commit the gold and white furnishings to memory. The style reminded her very much of descriptions she’d read of Greek temples. She would have to describe it to her mother—if her mother was still talking to her after tonight.
Lord Nicholas stood stiffly in the same spot he’d had occupied since entering the room. He was dressed in evening clothes except he wore trousers instead of breeches. The starkness of his black coat and trousers made him look taller and more imposing, especially in the flickering candlelight. It was hard to believe she had kissed him just a short time ago. Now she was half afraid of him.
“My lord, if you will allow me to explain myself,” she began.
“There is no explanation necessary,” he said. “You do not want to marry me. I won’t force you, though I do fear for your future. But one can hardly blame you for refusing.”
Amelia blinked in surprise. This was not at all what she had expected him to say. “You think I am refusing you because we hardly know each other?”
He let out a derisive snort. “I think we both know the real reason.”
Amelia didn’t see how he could possibly know the reason as no one but she knew it.
“I don’t think you do know my reason, and I feel I owe it to you to explain.” Even the thought of telling him about her transgression and the trouble she might be in made her feel hot and uncomfortable. Would he call her names? Would he think the worst of her? She certainly had not behaved as she had been taught. When Corporal Wickersham had pulled her into that empty room late at night, she had known she should not do as he asked. But she’d been so tired of rules and denying herself, she’d pushed down that voice and done it anyway.