Duty to Love (4 page)

 
Of course this would be another contract
agreement, a title bought with money. Both Amelia and Francine had known that
their father intended to use his money to gain them entry to the aristocracy
and enable any grandchildren of his to be future peers of the realm. It had
allowed Amelia to tamp down her own feelings of jealousy over Francine marrying
Arthur. Arthur had not preferred Francine over Amelia.

In
response to Arthur she'd schooled her features appropriately and given the
polite assurances required so that Arthur was content that he'd secured her
hand, and whatever his motivations Arthur did seem to genuinely wish her for
his wife. He'd spoken of a happy marriage, not one of convenience.

She
wasn't sure if it was her memory playing tricks on her, but she liked to
imagine he'd concluded the exchange with his fingers caressing the bare skin of
her wrist and the whispered words, “It will be a long wait.”

Every
time she'd glanced at Arthur as they rode back she'd seen a small smile fixed
upon his face. It had been enough to keep the smile on her own face until sleep
took it from her that night.

Now
her body felt on edge again, as it had that day, and she wasn't sure why. It
was almost like she was nervous, giddy at the mere thought of seeing Arthur.

With
Mary following two steps behind, Amelia climbed as gracefully as she could
manage up the steps to
Henton
Hall, the seat of the
Earl of
Hentonbury
. Amelia climbed carefully, trying
not to trip on her long skirts as she ascended the steep stairway. While her
efforts detracted from her hoped-for easy, natural grace, at least she didn’t
have to grip the balustrade as Mary did. She much preferred the days, now long
past, of sneaking through the kitchen entrance with Arthur and James, their
fingers ready to snatch any unguarded pastries.

Roeburn
was opening the door even before she'd raised the heavy knocker.

“Miss
Whitmore,” he said deferentially while taking her gloves, bonnet, and
fur-trimmed pelisse. “Is the Master expecting you?”

The
question caused Amelia to pause and consider her answer.
Roeburn
wouldn't have asked the question if he thought she was expected, but it
wouldn't normally matter enough to ask in the first place. She didn't want to
lie and say yes, but equally she didn't want to leave the way open to being
turned away if
Roeburn
didn't feel it appropriate to
disturb Arthur. He must be at home or
Roeburn
would
have said otherwise as soon as she entered.

“We
didn't agree a time.” Amelia chose to be evasive,
then
pressed ahead. “Is he in the study? Perhaps Mary might receive refreshment in
the kitchen.” It was common for Mary to accompany Amelia to preserve propriety,
but with the wedding a day away and Amelia a regular visitor since childhood
she felt excusing Mary would be acceptable.

 
Not waiting for a response, she quickly
proceeded down the hallway ahead of her leaving
Roeburn
,
who had not denied the study as Arthur's location, to assist Mary.
 

The
soft tread of her slippers allowed Amelia to approach Arthur's room quietly as
she slowed her steps upon nearing the study. It would be nice to see the
expression on his face if surprised by her presence.

Arthur
was in his study but not alone.

The
two
menmust
have sensed an intrusion, her approaching
presence, for they turned to face her. Their faces became animated upon seeing
her, giving smiles so similar she felt the weight of their combined warmth
pulling an upwards movement from her own lips.

“James!”
she uttered his name on a cry before racing forward and flinging herself into
his arms. Unprepared his arms brushed her sides and hung around her back in a
low, loose hold.

Sensing
his discomfort Amelia shifted back to look at him, then turned to Arthur. Were
they upset with her? Now she was to be married to him, was Arthur concerned
that she might appear overly familiar with James?

She
had thought James might be happy for her and Arthur. She would not be wedded to
some stranger, moving to live far away; they could carry on, the three of them,
friends as before.

Things
weren't the same, though; faced with two men, tension stiffening their
postures, expressions equally tight, Amelia realized she had been naive.
Marrying Arthur might well mean the end of her friendship with James. They
could no longer be frequently in each other’s company, completely at ease with
each other, for she would belong to Arthur. A married woman was an entirely
different prospect for a friend than a young girl running wild.

When
Amelia had imagined James coming back from the Army and herself entering
society, she had pictured them enjoying the season together, James, with his
dashing good humor, providing light relief from the monotony of town
entertainments. Now she would not be having a season, and James, while as
dashing as ever, did not appear in good humor.

“I'm
sorry, Arthur, I did not think. It's James. You know I would not be so improper
with anyone else.” She took a step back from James, glancing at Arthur
anxiously.

“Except me?”
Arthur's tone sounded pointedly hopeful, and Amelia realized he was
teasing her.

Amelia
grinned.
“Except you.”
It used to be that James was
the only one who teased her. Even when the three of them had larked around
together Arthur had always been the voice of caution, unintentionally acting as
a springboard to James and Amelia's rebellion.
 
Recently Arthur had begun to tease Amelia, and every time he did it
added to the feeling of warmth that centered inside her when Arthur was near.

Had
James noticed the changes in Arthur?

Amelia
turned to look at James just as she felt him tug her back into his embrace.
“Come here, you little hellion.”

This
time he held her tight, her breasts pressed flush to his chest and his hands
cupping her hips. For all their previous play together Amelia had never been
held like this before. It was no casual embrace; it seemed full of intent.
 

Amelia
only realized
James' s
intent when he leaned down and
guided his lips to hers. The initial pressure was fairytale light, unexpected,
and led to everything she'd hoped a kiss could be.

It
was teasing, playful; his lips glided against hers in subtle movements,
retreating then advancing into firmer contact. There was a little nip of teeth
and a quick taste with the tip of his tongue.

Amelia
let herself be kissed, and she reveled in the flurry of sensations her lips were
experiencing. Greedy for more she let her hands roam freely over James's back,
tracing the shape of his muscles, over his powerful shoulders to the unclothed
skin of his nape.

James's
hands tightened on her, pulling her closer, until their hips pressed as close
as their chests. Amelia felt breathless, heady. It was a novel sensation. She'd
never been one for allowing her corset to be laced too tight. She'd never
imagined Arthur could make her feel like fainting.

But,
oh God, it wasn't Arthur kissing her. Amelia jerked trying to free herself of James's
hold. Arthur was watching her. He was watching her kiss another man. She was
kissing her fiancé's brother while he watched. Well at least she wouldn't have
to keep it a secret or confess, she thought a little hysterically as she
finally managed to take a step back and remain steady on her feet.

She
couldn't bring herself to look either of them in the eye. Arthur's, the color
of gray slate could hold nothing but cold condemnation. James's, well, she
couldn't imagine what he was thinking. Maybe he was having a bit of fun at her
expense, his eyes, a beautiful navy, might well be filled with merriment.

“I
think I'll go home now, if you don't mind.” Amelia forced the words out,
then
determined not to let herself be cowed. “I have a lot
still to do before tomorrow.”

If
Arthur didn't like the fact she'd kissed another man he should have stopped it.
Well, it would be his fault if she compared their kisses once Arthur they were
married.

“James, go order a carriage for Amelia.
I wouldn't want her to walk home and not
leave enough time to be completely ready to be married tomorrow.”

Amelia
heard James leave the room; he had nothing else to say for himself then.

She
refused to look at Arthur. He hadn't even sounded angry at James.

 
“He wanted to marry you himself, you
understand.”

Amelia
blinked at Arthur's words. It still didn't make sense, why Arthur would let
James kiss her if he hadn't been merely playing.

“I
don't understand. Why did he kiss me? Why did you let him? He never did or said
anything like that before,” Amelia said tentatively.

“He
asked your father for your hand a few years ago, but your father told him he
must wait, ‘til after Francine was married. James trusted that his suit would
be looked on favorably by your father if he waited. He didn't want to put you
in a difficult position by confessing his feelings.”

“A difficult position?”
Amelia couldn't quite believe she hadn't known.

“He
thought you might hate having to wait, that you would be annoyed with your
father for placing further restrictions on you. He knew how upset you were when
he left for the army. He thought if he spoke to you about an engagement you
would be even more worried.”

“But
to say something now, to come back like this, how is that fair to any of us?”

“It
isn't, just as it isn't fair to him that I am the one marrying you. I would let
you marry him if I could,” said Arthur. Amelia knew he was aware of her
knowledge of the contract with her father.

Amelia
fixed her stare straight at Arthur. “You don't want to marry me?”

“Of
course I want to marry you! I just ... I just value your and James's happiness
above my own. He loves you,” Arthur said.

“And
you don't? You would be happy with me, but not as much as James would be because
he loves me. Is that what you're saying?” Amelia's words were tinged with
bitterness. She'd thought herself in love with Arthur, but what was the point
if he did not want her love, if he didn't intend to build a partnership? As for
James, how could he possibly love her? He'd left her and gone away. He didn't
know her anymore.

“No, not that!
I don't how to say what I'm trying to say.” Arthur raked his fingers
though his hair.

“You
don't love me, and if it weren't for a contract with my father you wouldn't be
marrying me. There's nothing quite like the actual words, is there?” Amelia was
past ready to leave. Oh if only she hadn’t been so impulsive in deciding to
visit.

“Of
course I love you. I want you as my wife more than I have ever wanted anything
for myself before, but don't you see? I love you and James more than myself. Is
that so wrong?”

“You
love me—but you'd give me away if you could?” Amelia didn't feel able to believe
Arthur's words of love. Wasn't the love of a husband selfish, possessive? She
selfishly wanted that part of Arthur that no one else had: she'd imagined that
marriage to Arthur would be like the pleasure of hugging a secret to
herself
.

“Not
give you away: give you the
freedom love
each other,
if that's what you wanted,” he said roughly.

“I
have never considered marriage to James!” As Amelia said this, she thought to
herself that she'd never considered marriage to Arthur either ‘til he'd asked
her. Why was he so keen to push her and James together? Even if her feelings
for James were love it would be too late for them now.

“You
seemed to enjoy his kiss,” Arthur said pointedly.

“I .
. . I want to marry you, Arthur.” Amelia couldn't deny it. The feelings James's
kiss had evoked caused her some concern.

“Even
knowing James is back and would elope with you in a second? Is marriage to me what
you really want, or is it that you want to be a countess, or to have the
freedom to be yourself, that you know I'll gladly give you? I would know what
you want from the start.”

What
did she want? Amelia had always known what she wanted, within a limited range
of options. She had been happy being the younger sister allowed greater freedom
to roam the grounds of her parents' country house and the neighboring
Henton
estate. She had wanted, then, not to have to grow up
too soon and settle down.

Following
Francine's death she had begun to want more. She wanted someone of her own to
love, someone to understand her, and then when Arthur had proposed she had
wanted to marry him. Despite having known him much of her life, Arthur was
still an enigma to her; and with the aura of power he'd grown into with ease,
she desperately wanted to know and please him. When she thought of marriage,
she wanted passion and a family. She'd thought she would find both with Arthur.