Undressed by the Earl (6 page)

“I want a husband,” Sarah repeated slowly. “A respectable gentleman with a decent income, few debts, and a willingness to overlook my brother’s deeds.”

“I can try to help you, but I don’t know if it’s possible.”

Now was the moment to lay her cards upon the table. Though her conscience cried out, she forced out the words, “I know about Aphrodite’s Unmentionables.”

Amelia blanched for the briefest moment before she smiled. “What about them? Most of the women in London are wearing the undergarments.” The false brightness in her voice told Sarah that she’d guessed correctly.

“I know that you and your sisters are responsible for them,” Sarah said. Though it was like a blade shredding her principles, she saw no other choice. “And I know how terrible it would be if the ton learned of your involvement—especially your sister, Her Grace, the Duchess of Worthingstone.”

“I want you to leave,” Amelia said, rising to her feet. Fury brewed in her eyes, and she pointed to the door. “Your accusations are unfounded, and you’ll get no help from me in your quest for a husband.”

It burned her, but Sarah nodded. “Very well. Then you’ll understand if I spread the news to everyone.”

The silence from Amelia Andrews was deafening. For a long moment, Sarah wondered if she’d made the right decision to reveal what she knew.

“You’re more like your brother than I’d guessed,” she said softly.

“No, I’m not. But as I told you, I have no other options available. If you’ll help me find a husband, I’ll never reveal your secret. You have my word.”

“And what is that worth?” Amelia countered.

“It’s worth the price of your reputation.” Sarah stood from the settee, her mood somber. She’d never wanted to stoop to this, but there was no other choice. “Or if you cannot help me with a husband, then you can provide me with a house of my own and an income to live on. Perhaps a portion of your profits from Aphrodite’s Unmentionables.”

“Blackmail is a criminal offense,” Amelia countered. “I could have you arrested.”

“You’ve no proof of it.” Sarah walked to the doorway and turned back. “I’ll expect to hear from you in the next few days.”

The next morning, Amelia awoke at dawn. Her stomach was still twisted in knots over what she’d learned from Lady Sarah. Though she suspected she should simply ignore the woman, the risk was there. If a breath of this scandal got out, it would affect all of them.

Margaret was still asleep in their shared room, and Amelia took her clothes into a nearby bedroom so her maid could dress her. She’d chosen a light fawn morning gown, trimmed with velvet ribbon. Though it wasn’t a color most women liked, Amelia knew that it set off her hair and drew a man’s attention to her face.

She was grateful for Lord Lisford’s invitation this morning, for she desperately needed a way to take her mind off yesterday’s events. There had to be a way of silencing Lady Sarah and protecting her family’s secrets.

The morning was misty and cool as she traveled with her maid toward the eastern bank of the Serpentine, where she’d promised to meet Lord Lisford.
Charles
, she reminded herself, testing out the name. One day she would call him that.

Amelia was impatient to see him and was grateful when she spied the viscount waiting near his phaeton. So he
had
received her note asking him to meet earlier. She was glad of it and motioned for her maid to stand back at a slight distance.

“Good morning, Miss Andrews.” He bowed, smiling warmly.

“Good morning, my lord.” She returned the smile, and he helped her inside, while her maid took a seat on the rumble behind.

“Forgive me for not paying a formal call upon you,” he apologized. “I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, after what happened with your older sister.”

She had no desire to talk about Margaret and wished he hadn’t brought it up. Already she was feeling guilty about this secret meeting. If it had been any other man who had broken her sister’s heart, Amelia would never have looked twice at him. But even years ago, she’d begged Margaret to leave the viscount alone. She’d pined for him, wanting so badly for him to look at her and see the young woman who adored him.

But he’d wanted Margaret then, and it had shattered her sixteen-year-old heart. Now that she was older and wiser, Amelia wanted to believe that there could be a chance for them.

“It
is
awkward,” she admitted. “It hurt Margaret’s feelings a great deal when you broke the engagement.”

“How could I keep it,” he murmured, “when I was losing my heart to someone else?”

His hazel eyes held an intensity that made her catch her breath. It was just as Margaret had said—he was speaking all the words she wanted to hear. It made Amelia uncomfortable, wondering if there was any truth to them.
Be careful
, her mind warned.

“I was very young then,” she said lightly. “You couldn’t have noticed me.”

Although, to be fair, she’d made a point to be near him at every opportunity. Aside from flinging herself at his feet, she’d done everything possible to gain his attention.

“How could I fail to see what was before me?” Lord Lisford tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as he flicked the reins and began taking the horses in a leisurely drive along the banks of the Serpentine. “You are as beautiful now as you were then. Only now, you’ve grown into a woman.”

His smooth tone of voice heightened her wariness, though Amelia was glad to be beside him. She said nothing, fully aware that his compliments were meaningless.

“I had to keep my distance for a time,” the viscount confessed. “Even now, I feel as if I cannot see you without hurting your sister.”

Amelia relaxed a little, for that much was true. “It
is
difficult,” she admitted. “And now that my parents have returned to London, we will be moving back into our own home.”

Which wouldn’t make their circumstances any easier. She didn’t like sneaking around, but what other choice was there?

“Perhaps I should speak with your father, Lord Lanfordshire, and discuss matters with him.”

That wouldn’t do any good at all. Her father was furious with the viscount and would as soon throw Lord Lisford out before he’d allow him to pay any calls.

“I don’t know that it would do any good,” Amelia said. “He’s very angry about what happened.” Even now, she didn’t know how to ease the way. “I could try to talk to Papa, but I know he doesn’t want you involved with our family.”

“Surely you must know how deeply I care for you,” Lord Lisford said, and his tone sounded so sincere, she almost might have believed it. She
wanted
it to be the truth. Except for the fact that this was the first time they’d had a conversation longer than two minutes.

Her common sense remained wary while her wayward heart rejoiced. Amelia forced herself to think clearly. “This is the first time we’ve spent together. Though I’m flattered, don’t you think it’s a little early for you to care deeply about me?”

“Four years,” he said, reaching to take her hand in his. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. Waiting for you.”

Perhaps he meant it to be a compliment, but Amelia found it disturbing. He had courted Margaret only three years ago. Did he believe she was so naïve that she would believe he was already in love with her? Or did he speak this way to all women?

Her sister’s warnings could not be ignored. “I don’t want you to speak words of flattery to me,” Amelia began, deciding that truth was the best approach. “You may like me a great deal, but we hardly know each other.” She wanted to be acquainted with the
real
Lord Lisford, not the dashing viscount who spoke compliments at every turn.

He was so taken aback by her reply, the smoldering mask dropped for an instant. “But—I thought—”

“If it is your wish to court me, by all means do so, but don’t treat me as if I haven’t a brain in my head. I know when a man is talking with wool in his mouth.”

His confusion was replaced by an honest smile. “You aren’t like any other women, are you?”

“Of course not. I believe a woman should speak her mind instead of pretending to be something she isn’t.” Amelia sent him an open smile, hoping he wasn’t disappointed by her candor. Honestly, though, she saw no reason to play games.

This time, she saw a hint of candor in his answering smile. “I really do like you, you know.”

“Of course you do. I’m quite likable.” Amelia’s heart twisted with elation when he dropped the façade and spoke the truth. Even so, she needed him to understand the woman she was. “I’m not as empty-headed as the sheep that flock to your side at every ball.”

He blinked at that. “No, I don’t suppose you are.” Brushing a lock of hair back, he added, “This isn’t at all the way I envisioned our drive. I somehow thought you liked me better.”

Oh, she did—there was no doubt of that. But pretty words meant nothing.

She straightened her shoulders and offered a compliment to soothe him. “You are quite handsome. Anyone can see that. But I think we need time to get acquainted before you speak with my father, don’t you?”

“You’re right,” Lord Lisford admitted. “And forgive me for speaking so boldly. It was just…I thought that’s what you wanted to hear.”

Amelia let out a sigh. “Perhaps the sheep enjoy that, but I would prefer the truth, above all else.”

“You are
nothing
like your older sister,” he remarked.

“Of course not. Margaret obeys every rule, down to the last punctuation mark. I, however, believe that certain rules may be bent under the right circumstances.”

The smoldering look was back, and Amelia forced her attention back to the clear waters of the Serpentine. Charles Newport was a devastatingly handsome man with a great deal of experience wooing women. And she
did
want to be wooed, but only after she knew this man. She didn’t want empty words.

“May I kiss your hand?” he asked softly.

Yes
, her impulsive side wanted to cry out.
Your mouth upon my bare skin without gloves.

But she sensed that if she gave this man a single liberty, Lord Lisford would take matters further. She would become like the string of women he’d wooed and rejected. This was a man who loved the hunt. He wanted a woman who couldn’t be caught. The more she held him at a distance, the stronger his interest would be.

He was already reaching for her palm when Amelia shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Are you afraid of me?” His voice was kinder now, as if he were trying to be gentle.

Amelia shook her head.
I’m afraid of myself.
She already knew she was very different from her sisters—impulsive and eager to charge into the fray for anything she wanted.

She believed in seizing every last moment of joy from life. Sensory experiences were a craving she couldn’t deny, whether it involved scent, taste, or most of all, touch. Her body was incredibly sensitive, and she wore corsets and chemises from Aphrodite’s Unmentionables that would utterly shock Margaret. But she loved the feeling of silk and satin against her skin. She sensed that when she shared a man’s bed for the first time, she would love it.

And that was too dangerous to imagine. She couldn’t even risk a passionate kiss for fear that her instinctive urges would lead her down a path to ruin. Amelia wanted this man to love her. She didn’t want to be yet another nameless woman out of the dozens he’d courted in the past.

“Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows,” she said, trying to change the subject—and her imagination—away from kissing.

He frowned, urging the horses to continue. For a long moment, he thought about it, and finally he said, “Only if you do the same.”

“All right.” She steeled herself and said, “I’m afraid of heights. I can’t bear to be on a balcony.”

He inclined his head to show that he’d heard her, and at last he admitted, “I need to marry an heiress.”

“What man doesn’t?” She shrugged and added, “My father is only a baron, and we’ve struggled a bit over the past few years, but—”

He interrupted, “I know. But your family is far more settled, now that your eldest sister is wedded to a duke.”

She didn’t know what he meant by “settled,” but she resisted the desire to correct him. Their wealth had nothing to do with her father’s income and everything to do with selling naughty undergarments to ladies of the ton, though she didn’t say so. Over the years, they had amassed quite a lot of money from Aphrodite’s Unmentionables, and now she didn’t worry about their family’s funds. But maintaining that secrecy was critical.

She swallowed hard at the thought of yesterday’s conversation with Lady Sarah. Something had to be done, but what? Clearly the woman needed help and was desperate enough to resort to blackmail. Her mood darkened with fear over what Lady Sarah might say or do. It could threaten all of them.

“I’ve made some mistakes,” Lord Lisford admitted. “I’ve gambled more than I should have.”

Now here was a rare glimpse at honesty. He knew his vices and was willing to be open about them. “Then stop playing cards,” she urged him. “Don’t even go into White’s.”