Lady Amelia's Secret Lover (6 page)

Harry frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Robert?”

“No, Harry, I don’t, not at the moment. I’m not sure what to say.” She drew a deep breath and was surprised she could breathe at all. “And I think that’s the problem.”

He studied her for a long moment, looking so much like her husband, she thought her heart would break if it hadn’t already.

“Very well then, I shall call for my carriage and fetch your wrap.”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it myself and meet you by the entry. I find I am in something of a hurry.”

“Perhaps I should find Robert—”

“I would much prefer not to be in his company at the moment. And I do appreciate you honoring my wishes.” She nodded and hurried off, leaving Harry to stare after her.

Not that she cared. Harry was the last thing on her mind. Within a few minutes she had collected her wrap and now waited impatiently for her brother-in-law. She needed to think, and she couldn’t do that here. The import of her discovery gripped her with an unrelenting ferocity, and it was all she could do to keep from weeping right here in Mrs. Amherst’s entry hall.

A footman approached her. “Beg pardon, ma’am. Mr. Hathaway sends his apologies. He has been delayed and suggests you await him in his carriage.”

She smiled her thanks and stepped out the door just as Harry’s carriage pulled up. Another footman opened the carriage door for her and helped her in.
She collapsed onto the forward facing seat, grateful for the dark and the solitude.

It seemed to her she had two choices regarding the rest of her life. She could go on with Robert as they had and life would be…content if somewhat lacking. Most women would be happy with what she had. But would she? Day after day, year after year, for the rest of her life? Or she could leave him. Divorce was not something she would consider, but they could live separate lives, go their separate ways. Some husbands and wives did. And hadn’t Robert said they were already doing just that?

But could she live her life without him in it? Without seeing him every morning at the breakfast table or every night at dinner? Without being in his arms? Perhaps a lack of passion, a companionable silence was the price one paid for forever. For being with the man you loved.

And she did still love him. If she knew nothing else, she knew that. But she had absolutely no idea how to resolve this dilemma and, worse, feared there was no resolution.

She barely noticed when Harry entered the carriage and settled in the seat opposite hers.

“T
hank you for seeing me home,” Amelia said at last, breaking the silence in the carriage. He had wondered if she would say anything at all. “I do appreciate it, Harry.”

Harry?
She thought he was Harry?

“Yes, of course,” Robert murmured.

Obviously, in the dark, Amelia didn’t realize who had entered the carriage and who was sitting across from her now. Harry had told him that Amelia was upset and wished to leave at once. He’d suggested it would be wise if Robert escorted her rather than Harry. This wasn’t exactly what Robert had had in mind when he’d planned to take his brother’s place at some point, but when one was handed a fortuitous opportunity, one should take advantage of it. “Are you feeling better?”

“Better?” She chose her words with care. “It is indeed
good to know I was mistaken about Robert’s having a mistress.”

“You should have believed him,” Robert said without thinking. Harry hadn’t mentioned that rather pertinent fact.

“Yes, I should have,” she snapped. “But I wanted…”

“Wanted what?”

She blew a long breath. “It sounds absurd, I know, but it was easier to blame our problems on another woman than on ourselves.” She shook her head. “I could win my husband back from another woman, but I don’t know how to battle this.”

“Forgive me, but I’m somewhat confused.”

“Yes, Harry, you would be,” she said sharply, then sighed. “My apologies. You’ve been nothing but helpful tonight, and I am most appreciative.” She paused for a long moment. “It was wonderful in the beginning, our life together, that is, and I assumed it would be wonderful forever.”

“And it isn’t?”

“It’s fine. It’s pleasant. It’s comfortable. It’s probably exactly as it is supposed to be, and I am no doubt the most foolish of women to think it should be anything else. I should be happy with my life.”

“And yet?”

“And yet now that I’ve realized what we have let slip away, I don’t know that I can live without what we had. I don’t know that I want to.”

“That is a problem,” he murmured.

“Indeed it is.” A smile sounded in her voice. He didn’t need to see it to know it was nothing more than a suggestion, wistful and perhaps a little sad. His heart
sank at the thought. How had he let things get to this point? And how was he going to set them right?

He stepped out of the carriage and assisted her out.

“There’s no need to see me to the door, Harry, you’ve done more than enough. Good evening.” With that, she walked up the front steps and disappeared into the house.

“No, Amelia, I fear I haven’t done nearly enough,” he said under his breath.

And he hadn’t, had he? He had put a great deal of effort and attention into winning Amelia’s heart six years ago, but very little since then. Still, he had been content enough with their lives up to now. Or had he? There was that little matter of his wandering eye, and a feeling of restlessness, even if he hadn’t acted on it, which should count for something, although, if truth were told, it didn’t. He had been just as remiss as she had, more so. He had very nearly everything he’d ever wanted in life and had neglected it.
An untended garden
.

He’d never been good at telling her how he felt, precisely why he had enlisted Harry’s help when they were courting. Although it did seem that tonight he had been somewhat less reticent to express his feelings. It was, he realized abruptly, the very real threat of losing what he couldn’t live without. Certainly he had told her he loved her any number of times through the years, although perhaps not as often of late. But he wasn’t sure he had ever told her before tonight that she was the love of his life.

He set his jaw in a determined manner. That needed to change right now. He started toward the door, then pulled up short. This might not be the best time. She was still upset and obviously confused. He would
wager she might take learning that her husband had been in the carriage with her and not his brother badly. Still, who knew what she might do if left to her own thoughts. She hadn’t said as much, but he feared she could well decide to leave him.

No, she had to know how much she meant to him. And if he couldn’t get out the words, Harry could.

He again stepped toward the door and again paused. But this was not the way Harry would do it. It wasn’t nearly dramatic enough. Robert circled the house and was at once relieved and annoyed that the latch on the back garden gate was properly secured. He hadn’t scaled a fence since his youth, although he suspected his brother had probably done so any number of times. Robert squared his shoulders. This was his turn. He scrambled over the fence and hopped to the ground with a growing sense of confidence. This would work; it had to.

He picked up a handful of pebbles from the path and continued around the house until he reached a spot directly beneath her window. There wasn’t a light showing, but he was fairly certain she would not have wanted to linger downstairs and answer the well-meaning questions of servants as to when Sir Robert was expected. She would have checked on the children and would be in her rooms right about now. A shadow passed by the window, and he grinned with satisfaction.

He took aim at the window and tossed a pebble. It plinked against the glass, and he waited. Nothing. He tried again, a bit harder. Again, no response. Maybe he needed a rock rather than a pebble, although he would prefer not to break the glass. Still,
this was not the time for practicalities. He weighed the pebbles in his hand and threw them as one. They smacked against the window in a noisy staccato. If that didn’t get her attention, nothing would. In less than a moment, the window flew open and Amelia leaned out.

“What on earth is going on down there?”

“It’s me.” He paused. “Harry.”

“Who else? I should have known.” She huffed. “What do you want?”

“I have come to plead my brother’s case.”

“Now?”

“This very minute.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Why indeed? “Because he’s my brother and he can’t live his life without you.”

For a long moment she didn’t say a word. “Very well then, plead, but do lower your voice. I would prefer not to attract the attention of neighbors or servants or whoever else might be about at this hour.”

“He has loved you from the first moment he saw you,” he said in a loud whisper.

“What?”

“He has loved you from the first moment he saw you,” he said again, a bit louder.

“Go on.”

“You are indeed the love of his life.”

“I am sorry, Harry, but I’m not hearing everything you’re saying.”

“Blast it all,” he muttered. This wouldn’t do any good if she couldn’t hear what he only had the courage to say as his brother. “This is absurd.” In the dim starlight he could make out the ivy that crept over much
of the back of the house. The vines were ancient and thick and, with any luck at all, more than up to the task of supporting a man. He wound his fingers through the ivy and tugged.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m climbing up to talk to you.”

“Don’t be insane, Harry. This isn’t one of your amorous adventures.”

“All of life should be an adventure.” It struck him that he had forgotten that.

“Regardless, I’ll come down and we can speak in the parlor.”

“No,” he said sharply. The last thing he wanted at the moment was a well-lit parlor. “I’ll climb up.”

“Why?”

“Practice.” He found a secure grip, tested a few places with his foot, found a good foothold, and started to climb. “One never knows when one might have to scale a wall.”

“You’re not merely ridiculous but annoying. Now go away.”

“No, I’m not finished. There is a great deal more to say.” He moved slowly up the wall. This was more treacherous than he had expected. He should have the gardener cut the ivy down before the boys were old enough to discover its lure. He gritted his teeth. “For my brother.”

“And what do you think your brother will say if he comes home to find you clinging to the side of the house?”

“He’ll understand. It’s just the sort of thing he’d expect me to do.”

“The sort of idiotic thing he’d expect you to do,” she
snapped. “It’s dangerous, Harry, and I’ll not have your death on my head.”

“I’m not going to die.” Indeed with every inch upward, he was more confident. “Nothing has happened to change that.”

“Whether or not you’re going to plunge to your death?”

“No.” It was remarkably difficult to conduct a conversation while clinging to the side of a house. “How Robert feels about you.” The vine beneath his foot pulled away from the wall, and for a frightening moment he dangled in midair before finding firm footing again.

“That didn’t sound good. What happened?”

“Nothing.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m almost there.”

She scoffed. “You’re not even halfway up. Regardless, I’m coming down.”

“No, I can do this.”

“Nonetheless, I’m closing the window.”

“No, Amelia, wait.” If he didn’t say this now, he might never have another chance. “In recent days, Robert has realized—” Even as he said the words, the vines in his hands pulled away from the house in an oddly slow manner, as if some unseen guardian that protected men from their own stupidity was giving him a chance to save himself. He scrambled to find a better hold, but every branch and vine seemed determined to abandon the wall it had clung to for decades. He tumbled backward, vines in his hands, and landed with a hard thump flat on his back in a heap of vines and leaves, the breath knocked out of him. Damnation.

A muttered oath sounded from above, and in spite of
the pain that encompassed every inch of his battered body, he noted in the back of his mind that he couldn’t recall ever hearing Amelia curse before. She did it surprisingly well. Once again he wondered what else he might not know about his wife.

Robert lay staring up at the stars and decided not to move for a moment or the rest of his life, whichever came first. If he could move at all. He was in no hurry to find out.

He heard approaching footsteps.

“Harry?” She knelt down beside him. “Are you alive?”

“I’m not sure.”

She started pulling off the leafy debris covering him. “Is anything broken?”

He groaned. “Everything is broken.”

“As well it should be. What a stupid trick that was.”

“I needed to talk to you.” Cautiously he flexed his arms then his legs. Everything seemed to work. With great care, he managed to sit up. “I—Robert has never been able to.”

“Nonsense. Robert and I used to have great discussions about all manner of topics.”

“Except those that are truly important. About how he feels about you.” He winced. “Or, I suspect, about your feelings for him.”

She sighed. “I have been as bad as he. I fully admit, I am as much to blame for the problems between us as he is.”

“He has realized in recent days that he should have put as much effort into keeping your affections as he did winning them.”

“He hasn’t lost them, not really.” She shook her head. “But I have expected far too much—”

“No. You haven’t expected enough or demanded enough. You only expected to be happy, and in that he has failed.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

“A wife should be treated as one would treat a mistress.” Blast it all, that was brilliant. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Because now he was thinking like Harry. “Flowers for no reason. Gifts, on occasion, simply because it’s Tuesday or Friday or just a day that you are in his life.”

“Gifts like your diamond bracelet perhaps?”

“Diamond bracelet?” What was she talking about?

“The diamond bracelet,” she said slowly. “That started all this.”

“Oh, that diamond bracelet.” Obviously yet another pertinent fact Harry had failed to mention. Still, it probably wasn’t important. “He should indeed give you the occasional diamond bracelet.”

“Perhaps you should tell this to your brother.”

“He knows. At least now he knows.” He drew a deep breath. “And he knows as well you need the words that he has never been good at. You need to hear from his own lips every day how much he loves you. How much he cherishes you. How you are the most important thing in his life.”

“That’s…lovely,” she said softly.

He shifted to his knees. “And furthermore he has come to the realization that you cannot share his bed merely out of complacency and duty.”

“No?”

“No. You need to be seduced, Amelia, often and with a great deal of enthusiasm.” He grabbed her shoulders without thinking. “And kissed. Frequently.” His voice
softened. “And every kiss should be as if it were the very first time.” He pulled her to him and kissed her long and hard until he wanted to pull her onto the ground and make love to her right here. He’d nearly forgotten what exquisite desire nothing more than a kiss could produce. She jerked away, hesitated, then cracked her hand across his face.

“Ouch!” He clapped his hand against his cheek. “That hurt.”

“It was supposed to.”

“Why did you slap me?”

“You kissed me without my permission. And the first time should be with my express permission.”

He shook his head. “Robert didn’t ask permission the first time he kissed you.”

“And how do you know that?”

“How?” How indeed? “Brothers…talk.”

“Yes, of course, excellent answer. Now, however.” She slid her arms around his neck. “You have my permission.”

“What?” She wanted to kiss him? No. She wanted to kiss his brother!

“I said you have my permission to kiss me, Harry.”

“What about Robert?” He pulled out of her embrace and scooted away.

“You weren’t thinking about Robert a moment ago,” she said in a chastising manner.

“I was carried away. Now I am thinking about nothing but Robert.”

“Oh, Robert has my permission without asking. Part and parcel of marriage, you know.”

“No, I mean Robert wouldn’t like my kissing you.”

“It was Robert’s idea in the first place.”

“I scarcely think—”

“He chose you to be my lover,” she said in the very same casual manner she might use to say he ordered a new shirt. “I expect that he anticipated there would be a certain amount of kissing and, well, everything that goes along with it.”