To Tame a Dragon (16 page)

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Authors: Megan Bryce

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: To Tame a Dragon
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“You must have been extraordinarily drunk.”

Robin snickered. “We needed something to dull
the pain.”

Jameson snickered back. “Too right.”

“You were defending my hon—”

Amelia’s face turned red and she jabbed a
finger into Jameson’s chest. “Is this about that stupid bet?”

“My dear, you are my wife. It is my duty to
beat the tar out of any whelp who questions your honor.”

“You were the one that started that bet in
the first place!”

Jameson’s eyes cleared a little as he
realized the danger he was in. He glowered at Robin. “I know it
is deuced hard to keep secrets from her, old friend, but you
could’ve left that part out.”

Robin slurred, “She’s too tricky.”

Jameson moved to take her in his arms, then
noticed the blood covering his clothing and thought better of
it. “My dear, there were so many rumors and whispers at the time
that I thought a bet would take some poison out of it.”

“And tonight?”

“Those young whelps that have been following
me thought they could accost us and take back their losses. For
some reason they thought I benefited unfairly since I was the
one reporting whether you were untouched on our wedding night or
not. It wasn’t likely I would say you were spoiled.”

Amelia blinked. She stared stupidly at him
for moment, then sat abruptly. “And you... you won because I was
still a virgin?”

He nodded. “Though there were some who chose
not to believe me. Robin and I simply had to insist.” He
shrugged. “They chose to believe filthy rumors and make a stupid
bet.”

In a very small voice she said, “You bet I
was still a virgin?”

“I would never bet against you, my dear.”

“But Robin said the odds were 3–2 against.”

Jameson flicked his eyes to Robin, who was
slowly losing the battle against gravity, and patted him on the
shoulder approvingly.

“The odds were slightly less favorable than
that. Let’s just say I made a pretty penny the night of our
wedding.”

“I thought...well, you never make a fool’s
bet.”

He stared at her in consternation. “You
thought I started a bet about one of my two oldest friends that
she was a whore?”

Amelia just looked at him and he knelt at her
feet. “I don’t know whether to be horrified that you’ve
continued to be my friend for ten years thinking that, or
humiliated that you would think that of me at all.”

“I was found in a compromising situation with
a man who told all and sundry that he had ruined me.”

He smiled and wiped a tear from her face.
“Again with the all and sundry.”

“Jameson,
no one
believed me. I don’t
even think Father believed that I was untouched.”

“Of course I knew you were still a virgin, my
dear. You wouldn’t let that buffoon within ten feet of you.”

Amelia fought back a sniffle. “I let you.”

He rose and pulled her into his arms, no
longer caring about the blood and dirt. “I can only assume that
I am less of a buffoon. Or am slightly more lucky.”

It was too much. Her emotions had run the
gamut from fear and anger to relief and... to whatever this
emotion was. He had believed her, had always believed her. She
hid her face in his throat and cried great, gasping sobs.

Robin looked up blearily. “I say, old chap.
What have you done to my sister?”

Jameson continued to hold her in his arms, rocking gently back and forth,
moving slowly to an unheard melody. “Your sister is finally
letting me lead a whole dance through, my old friend.”

Robin closed his eyes. “No wonder she’s
crying.”

 

Jameson kissed her cheek softly before
sitting down to his breakfast. “And what are you up to today, my
pet?”

She ignored his endearment as he ignored her
puffy eyes. “Since Clarice has not forgiven me for marrying you,
and really I did the girl a favor”—Jameson nodded in agreement
and bit into his toast—“I will have to be more surreptitious in
finding her a husband. It will make it a tad more difficult, and
I will admit not nearly as much fun. But she is being stubborn.”

“Curse her for not taking your expert advice
on the matter.”

She paused with her cup nearly to her mouth,
then set it down with a thump. “What have I done? Who will ever
trust my judgment again, in matters of marriage or otherwise,
when I so obviously have no sense whatsoever.”

“I assume you are referring to the small
matter of marrying me.”

“Of course I am.”

“I will remind you, my dear, of the many
mothers who insisted I would make a wonderful husband for their
well-loved daughter.”

“Hmm. That is true. Perhaps I can persuade
the world that you are indeed the most wonderful husband. But
no, then Clarice will have great reason for hating me.”

“What a tangle you find yourself in.”

“I suppose I will have to live with the
consequences of my ill-advised marriage for a little while
longer. Perhaps by next season you will have turned into quite
the agreeable
bridegroom.”

“We can only hope, hmm?”

She took in his attire. “And where are you
off to today? Is that a new waistcoat? Have you spent my dowry
already?”

“It is indeed a new waistcoat.” He stood and
strutted the length of the table for her to admire. She bit back
a laugh and shook her head.

“Generations of smartly-placed
investments ended in a waistcoat. The Delaneys will all be turning in
their graves.”

He perched on the arm of her chair. “To get a
better look, do you think? I intend to turn a few heads today
anyways. I am taking Amelia out for a ride with a crony or two.”

She glared at him. “Do you call
that
Amelia ‘my pet’ as well?”

He smiled. “I do indeed.”

“Why in the world any mother would want you
for their daughter I have no idea.”

“It must be for my lovely looks, as that is
all I have to recommend me.”

“It must be. They think of curly blond hair
on their grandchildren and lose all reason.”

He tipped her head up. “Do you think of
blond-headed children and lose all reason? My pet?”

She glared at him and he bent his head,
ravaging her lips. He murmured, “When you get that heated look
in your eye I can think of nothing else but taking you upstairs
and making as many unreasonably handsome children as I can.”

Since he so easily conjured heated emotions
in her, of varying kinds and degrees, it was a wonder they did
not spend the whole day upstairs. She kissed him back with much
fervor until he broke it off with a sigh. He adjusted his
clothing with a snap.

“But no, I am already dressed. I can not
spare the time to redo all this splendor; one does not leave
so-and-so waiting. A pity. Will you save your ardor for tonight,
my dear?”

“You are a devil.”

He exited the room, laughing. When he was
well and gone she adjusted her own clothing. A devil indeed.

Amelia was forced to spend her afternoon
making the rounds of young, chatty women. They could tell her
what events Clarice was planning on attending; information she
needed if she was to direct suitable matches Clarice’s way. But
it took a toll on her good humor. Since her marriage to ‘the
finest catch in all of England’, and if she wasn’t married to
the reprobate she would correct them on that score, her company
had become quite sought after. It seemed young, silly girls
loved to hear how wonderful married life was to Lord Nighting. And since
she couldn’t very well say that he had this very morning teased
her into blithering senselessness and then left without
finishing the job, she made the appalling seem romantic.

“Last night we danced in our dining room.”

They sighed, a dreamy look in every one of
their eyes, and she took a sip of tea. She would not mention
that she had been crying her eyes out and he had been drunk and
covered in blood. Although, they would think that romantic as
well if she told them he had been defending her honor instead of
brawling over some stupid bet.

“And he’s named his newest pony after me. I
tried to stop him, but really, the man hardly listens to me.”

They giggled. One girl even went so far as to
tell her how lucky she was. It took more effort than Amelia
thought healthy to keep from contradicting her. Was it indeed
every girl’s unspoken wish to have a recalcitrant horse named
after her? But finally she was able to steer the conversation to
the events of the coming week and away from her golden-haired
husband.

By the end of the day her head pounded and
her temper was frayed. She’d not seen Jameson all day and yet
she was sick of him. The thought of going home was nearly
unbearable and she directed the driver to her mother’s.

She greeted her mother with a kiss. “I have
spent all day ferreting out Clarice’s schedule; I am exhausted.”
She nodded at her mother’s offer of tea.

“And what will you do with the information
now that you have it?”

“There are a few gentleman I think she may
approve of. I will send them her way, but it must be done
furtively. Any man connected to my name will have no chance. I
feel as if I am once again the black sheep of the
ton
, guilty
of some unpardonable sin.”

“And you will once again persevere until you
are cleared of all charges.”

Amelia looked down at the floor. “Mama... did
you believe me? Did you believe that I was untouched?”

Her mother took a deep breath. “I had hoped.
I had hoped he had not hurt you; I didn’t believe that you would
have willingly been with him.”

Amelia was silent, then said with awed
disbelief, “Jameson believed me; he never doubted. He
bet
on me.”

Her mother raised her eyebrows but smiled.
“That is an unorthodox vote of confidence but heart-warming,
nonetheless. He was well worth the wait, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, but if I have to hear one more person
tell me how wonderful my husband is, I think I will scream. Even
if in this instance it is true.”

She rose. “Thank you for the tea, but I think
I will go home to him. When he tells me how wonderful he is, he,
at least, is joking.”

When she arrived home, the butler met her at
the door. “Lord Nighting has been injured; the physician is with
him.”

Amelia gasped and raced up the stairs. She
flung open the door to find Jameson in bed, the physician
sitting in a chair beside him.

Amelia flew to the bed. “Jameson! What
happened?”

The physician rose at her entrance. “He was
thrown, my lady. His leg was impaled.”

She stared at him in horror, then leaned over
Jameson to brush the hair from his forehead.

Jameson opened his eyes and smiled at her.
“Amelia, my love. Why don’t you love me?”

She looked at the doctor in embarrassed
astonishment. He said, “I have given him laudanum for the pain.”

Jameson grasped her hand. “Amelia threw me,
cantankerous horse. I should never have named her after you.”

Amelia tried to still her wildly beating
heart and said with some amount of calmness, “No, you most
certainly should not have. You should not have bought a horse
that delights in trying to throw you.”

“But it is so much fun.”

The physician rose to leave, much to Amelia’s
relief. “Send for me if a fever develops, otherwise I will
return to check on him tomorrow.”

Jameson’s eyes opened at the sound of the
door closing. “Don’t leave me, Amelia. Don’t leave me alone in
this house. They always leave me alone.”

“Oh, Jameson.” Tears prickled her eyes. She
crawled into the bed, careful not to jar his leg, and wrapped
her arms around him fiercely. “I won’t ever leave you.”

She nursed him through the night and fed him
laudanum and alcohol until he smiled at her. “My Amelia. So
beautiful.”

She caressed his face, smiling. “That should
be enough; delirium has set in. Now close your eyes.”

He did as she bid, still smiling. “The house
is so much happier now that you are here with me. It was so
cold.” He opened his eyes in panic. “You won’t leave, will you?”

“Never.”

He sighed and closed his eyes again. “All the
ghosts are afraid of you. They stay away when you are here.”

A great welling sadness rose in her throat.
He laughed and pranced and smiled every day, but he had been
alone since he was twelve years old. Unloved, since he was twelve
years old.

She kissed him gently. “You are no longer
alone, Jameson. I love you; I won’t ever leave you. The ghosts
will have to haunt someone else.”

He opened his eyes. “Tell me again when I’ll
remember.”

She laughed. “I will. Go to sleep.”

She awoke the next morning, still in her
dress, shivering on top of the covers. He was watching her.
“Tell me again.”

“That I love you?”

“Do you?”

“You are the most handsome, most irritating,
wildest, craziest man I have ever met in my life. Of course, I
love you. How could I not?”

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