Page 19 of Heart of Decadence

Chapter 9

The next afternoon, Amelia sat in the drawing room, self-consciously the hostess of a very odd meeting. Nathan had sent around a note first thing this morning asking his friend and sister to come ’round, and they’d brought Lady Celinda, deeming her a “secret weapon,” according to Kate. Amelia had just ordered tea and was chatting with the other two ladies while her husband had his head together with his friend at the sideboard.

“I was truly shocked that Mrs. Doyle and her charge… What’s her name, Celinda?” Kate turned to her cousin then back to Amelia. “I forget. There’s such a crop of young ladies coming out this year.”

“Miss Sharpe. Amanda Sharpe. Who’s in love with Lord Somersby.” Celinda nodded her head sagely. “I’ve spoken to her about his inappropriate behavior at Lady Marbury’s Christmas house party last year, but she’s determined to secure him.” Sighing, Celinda shook her head until her curls bounced. “I fear he will make a cake of her before it’s all over. Some men simply cannot be trusted.”

“Perhaps it will come all right in the end.” Amelia sighed in relief as the tea arrived. Now she would have something to do other than sit like a bump on a log. “Sugar and milk, Kate?”

“Milk, no sugar, please. Let us leave others’ problems to them. Lord knows, our own will be quite enough for us to conquer. Anyway,” Kate paused to take a sip, “neither Mrs. Doyle nor Miss Sharpe were in attendance at the wedding breakfast.”

“Nor Lady Burgess nor Lady Scops,” Celinda added. “Which truly surprised me. She usually attends every wedding breakfast, christening, confirmation, and wake within a five-mile walk of her house.”

“Oh, dear.” Amelia had slopped the tea over into the saucer. This sounded so dire. What if they could not persuade the ladies of the ton to accept her back into their ranks? Not only would it dash the hopes of her sisters for a Season next year, but it would reflect poorly on Nathan to have married such an undesirable.

“Do not worry, Amelia.” Celinda had taken the teapot from her hostess and was pouring her own tea. “Between the five of us, we will come up with a scheme that will bring the ton around to the conclusion that you’re not the wanton they believe you are.” Lady Celinda stopped, apparently realizing the import of her words. “I beg your pardon, Amelia, but I am certain you know what I mean.”

“Nathan and I were discussing that last night.” The image of them lying naked in her bed, talking about how to scotch the scandal brought heat rushing to her cheeks. She clapped her hands over her face. “Has it gotten warm in here?”

Kate smothered a smile, while Celinda seemed to ignore her question. “Did you come up with some solution? I daresay you had a similar discussion with your parents when the rumors first surfaced ten years ago.”

“Yes, I told Nathan as much.” She gulped and continued. “My parents tried every way they knew of to refute the gossip, but nothing worked. After the maid told another servant that she’d found blood on my sheets when I’d been ill, the gossip intensified. I tried to explain it was my courses, but they didn’t want to listen. People came forward and falsely said I’d confided in them about my plight.” The anger at those who’d unabashedly lied about her had never quite left her. “I never confided anything to anyone. There was nothing to confide.”

“Nothing?” Stirring her tea, Kate leaned toward her. “Surely you spoke to someone other than your mother about your relationship with Lord Carrington?”

Sadly, Amelia shook her head. “I was still distraught over the defection of your brother. That was why I accepted Lord Carrington so quickly, to soothe myself that someone wanted me, loved me enough to marry me. I didn’t talk to anyone about Lord Carrington because there was really nothing for me to tell. I was going to marry him so I could be married and perhaps forget about Nathan.”

Celinda cocked her head. “I was wondering, after all this fuss about you anticipating your wedding vows, did Lord Carrington ever actually ask you to do such a thing?”

“He certainly did.” Amelia rolled her eyes, making the others giggle. “Almost from the moment I accepted him. He had not struck me before as a man with that voracious an appetite, but I assume once he thought I belonged to him, even on the strength of the settlements, he thought I should act like we were married.”

“Did Lord Carrington ever correspond with anyone about your marriage?” Bouncing on the edge of her chair, Celinda held her teacup out so it wouldn’t splash onto her green and gold gown. “A friend he may have confided in that you were not behaving toward him as you should, or some such nonsense?”

“What nonsense are you coming up with now, cousin?” Nathan had sauntered up, followed by Marcus.

“We are trying to ascertain whether or not either Amelia or Lord Carrington ever corresponded with someone to whom they may have poured their hearts out.” Dropping two goodish lumps of sugar into her cup, Celinda stirred and sat back down next to Amelia.

“Did you, my love?” Nathan settled into the chair next to Amelia’s. “Write to anyone?”

Racking her brain to remember, she finally shook her head. “I do not recall writing to anyone during that time, save Jonathan himself.”

All their gazes turned to Amelia. She shrank back in her chair. What had she said?

“Amelia, you wrote to your betrothed?” Even Kate looked shocked.

“My love, why did you not tell me this before? This may be our salvation.” Nathan grabbed her hands. “Do you have the correspondence at your parents’ home? If he wrote to you about his demands…”

“He did.” Amelia puckered her lips. “Nearly every one of his letters had some kind of insinuation or outright suggestion that we become intimate before the ceremony. By the time we ceased the correspondence, I dreaded receiving the letters at all.”

“Then here is the proof!” Nathan grabbed her up out of the chair and hugged her. “These letters show without a doubt that you did not succumb to his persuasions.” He tilted his head back and forth, his puzzled expression deepening. “Why did you not show the correspondence when you were accused before?”

“Because I do not have it, my love.” Amelia hung her head. She’d gone through this with her parents all those years ago.

“You burned the letters?” Celinda had clasped her hands, almost in a prayerful attitude.

“No, I never possessed them.”

“What?” Her husband spoke, but all her friends looked the question as well.