Scandalous Endeavors (Ladies and Scoundrels Book 1) Read online

  Sudden grief stabbed her heart when her lamplight illuminated the room. Everything remained just as Papa had left it. His mahogany desk still held Mama’s miniature in its ornate brass frame. The office chair was slanted slightly to the side as if he had just exited it. Hunter green crushed velvet drapes were pulled partially open, allowing moonlight to stream into the room, and Papa’s slippers still rested near his chaise. The room even smelled like Papa--a heartrending blend of cigar smoke and spice.

  She entered the office and set the lamp down. The sherry decanter beckoned to her. She moved to it, poured herself a glass, and tossed it back. Unladylike, but she did not care. The dark liquid sent a comforting trail of warmth down her throat. After she poured another glass, she positioned herself on the corner of Papa’s desk. No one had entered the room for six weeks. Her father had been too sick for business matters, and hadn’t wanted her to worry about them. He assigned his steward to take care of the accounting and property management tasks during his illness. If she was forced to leave England, she supposed the steward would continue to run her estate.

  Amelia took another sip of the sherry, relaxing as it blazed a path into her belly. Picking up Mama’s miniature, she realized she could feel both of her parents in the room. As warm tears rolled down her cheeks, she dashed the dampness away with the back of her hand. Mama had spent a great deal of time in here before her passing.

  Staring at Mama’s image reminded her again of just how much she resembled her mother, right down to her curly hair and emerald eyes. With a jagged sigh, she placed the miniature back on the desk.

  “I love you.” Her whispered endearment echoed in the room. Standing, she finished the drink and placed her glass back on the serving tray. The liquor spread warmth through her, thawing her chilled marrow. Perhaps she would sleep well after all.

  SCANDALOUS ENDEAVORS

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dread and anticipation warred within Richard Collingsworth, the Duke of Goldstone, as he strolled across the Duchess of Abernathy’s manicured lawn. On the one hand, London held little appeal for him. On the other, he was looking forward to spending time with his favorite aunt.

  English debutants and mamas were not so different from their Scottish counterparts, and he had no desire to become ensnared by some scheming mother and her husband-hunting offspring. He’d had his share of that over the years. His gut clenched at the thought of Lady Ophelia, who’d done her level best to trap him before spreading nasty rumors across Scotland when he refused her advances. No more, he’d not allow it. When he settled down, it would be because he chose the woman; not because he had been trapped.

  He glanced down at his clothing. A thick layer of dust clung to his riding attire from the day’s traveling. Had his luggage arrived? His trunks had been sent ahead. He hoped they had as he badly needed a fresh set of clothing. Business matter’s slowed his journey, he had several stops to make between his Scottish estate and London. Everything he had packed in his saddle bag was now in need of laundering.

  As he stepped onto the wide porch, Aunt Grace’s butler opened the door. “Welcome, Your Grace. It is always a pleasure to have you in residence.”

  Richard removed his riding gloves and hat as he stepped into the foyer. “Is my aunt occupied at the moment?”

  “She is preparing to go calling.” The butler offered a smile.

  Before Richard could say more, Aunt Grace rounded the corner. “Richard, my dear boy, how lovely to see you.” Eyes brightening at the sight of him, she stepped up beside him and planted a kiss upon his cheek.

  He returned the kiss before handing his coat to the butler. “I am always honored to spend time with my favorite aunt.”

  A light blush crept into her cheeks as she fought to repress a smile. “How you do go on. I am afraid I was just preparing to go out. This errand cannot wait, but I will have a room readied for you and we will catch up when I return.” Looking to her butler, she added, “Have a maid ready a room for my nephew right away.”

  The butler motioned over a footman and gave him orders.

  Bloody hell, his luggage could not have arrived, if it had, Aunt Grace would already have his room prepared. He would make do without it for now. Perhaps something remained from a past visit that he could wear until his garments were seen too. What other choice did he have? Richard stepped toward the staircase. “Do not fret over me. As you can see I am badly in need of freshening up. Go attend to your errand and I will be here when you return.”

  “Very well, dear. I will not be over long.”

  The butler opened the door for her after helping her into her cloak. Richard watched until she disappeared from sight. Aside from his mother, Aunt Grace was the only woman he trusted. She had never done him wrong.

  A maid appeared with a pile of fresh linins. She curtseyed. “I will have your room ready straight away.”

  “Please have a bath prepared as well.”

  She bobbed her head before mounting the stairs.

  He strolled toward his uncle’s old office. A glass of port would be the perfect thing to keep him busy while his room was tended to. His spirits were already much improved since leaving Scotland. Perhaps London and all its diversions would be just the thing to help him fully recover from Lady Ophelia’s scheming and malice.

  * * * *

  Amelia looked up from her needlework as Grace glided into the room, her chin held high in her customary regal display. Uncle Lewis, who sat opposite his niece in the drawing room, set down the book he’d been reading and rose from his chair.

  As he bowed the duchess stepped forward, chuckling. “Come now, Mr. Lewis, there is no need for formalities. You are part of Amelia’s family, and that also makes you an honorary part of mine.”

  When Amelia’s mother came to England, Grace took her under her wing. Being an American closed many parlor doors to mama. Of course she still received invitations due to papa’s status, but the ladies of the ton did not embrace her until the duchess did. As a result of their friendship, Amelia had grown up around the duchess and looked to her as a second mother.

  Uncle Lewis straightened his posture. “Do have a seat, Your Grace.” He motioned toward the velvet armchair positioned next to Amelia’s.

  Grace took her seat, elaborate skirts rustling. “Thank you, good sir. I abhor formalities among family and close friends. You have leave to call me Grace.”

  His expression relaxed. “As you wish, but I insist upon you calling me Lewis in return.”

  Uncle Lewis sat back down and studied Amelia with curiosity. She smiled at him and tipped her head to the duchess.

  “How lovely it is to see you.” Did her voice tremble?

  “And you as well, Amelia.” The dowager’s voice came across smooth and confident.

  Uncle Lewis’s gaze returned to the duchess. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

  “As I have already explained, Amelia is like family to me. I wanted to check on her in light of all that has happened.” Turning to Amelia, she said, “How are you, my dear? Is there anything you need?”

  “I am perfectly content at the moment, thank you. Of course, I miss Papa terribly, but there is really nothing to be done about it.” Her vocal chords squeezed at the reminder, and she swallowed hard.

  Grace winked at Amelia, then turned her attention back to Uncle Lewis. “Forgive my forwardness on the matter, but what are your plans for Amelia now that you have been appointed her guardian?”

  “I am taking her to live with me in America, at least until she reaches the age of majority. I hope she will find it to her liking and choose to stay permanently, but, alas, that will be her decision.”

  As indignation rose inside her, Amelia fought to maintain her composure. He must have gone completely mad! She would never choose America over England. How could he not realize she had no inclination to live in America? Not now--not ever. England was her home, and God as her witness, it always would be. Abandoning England would be the same as abandoning h
er parents, which she would never consider doing.

  Grace nodded, her expression remaining warm. “I see, and when will you be departing for America?”

  Amelia shifted in her seat and tried to inconspicuously wipe her sweating palms while she waited for the scheme to play out.

  “Our ship leaves port Monday, shortly after sunrise. I am looking forward to my return.”

  “My...but this Monday morning?” Grace’s gasp would have convinced the queen herself.

  “Yes, you see, I have already stayed in England much longer than I should have. It is spring planting time. I am needed at my plantation to ensure things run smoothly.”

  “I can see how that would be necessary, but it is simply unreasonable to expect Amelia to leave her home behind for two years on a few days’ notice. She needs more time to settle her affairs here in London and at Everthorne. They are her responsibility now.”

  “But how will--”

  “Not to worry, Lewis. I would be happy to chaperone her, if it pleases you.” The duchess leaned toward him and batted her thick lashes. “Having Amelia under my roof would be a comfort.”

  Amelia pressed her lips together to keep her mouth from falling open at the duchess’s astute intervention. Old hand indeed. Now, if only Uncle Lewis would cooperate. With bated breath, she awaited his reply.

  “I had not considered procuring a chaperone, and I do not look forward to traveling without Amelia.” He sighed, his brows drawing together. “However, your offer is generous, and it appears that it would please you both.”

  His emerald gaze locked with Amelia’s as he asked, “How much time is required for you to properly prepare?”

  “Two months,” Amelia blurted, then chided herself for her haste. Why did she not ask for more time? A full year would have gotten her out of mourning, thereby making the task of finding a husband much easier. But, alas, he never would have agreed to such a lengthy period.

  He rested his chin on his fists and closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them again. “This time frame is agreeable to you, duchess?”

  “Indeed, I should be delighted to chaperone her for two months. Or even longer, if necessary.”

  “You are very generous, but she will not need more time than we have agreed upon.”

  Grace arched a conspiratorial eyebrow. “Are we in agreement then, Lewis?”

  “It would be rude of me to deny such a reasonable request.” His gaze locked on Amelia’s. “Two months--and not a day longer.”

  Dashing from her chair, Amelia threw herself into Uncle Lewis’s arms, “Thank you, thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  “All thanks should be directed at her grace. It is her generous offer that is allowing you to stay a bit longer.”

  Amelia pressed her lips against his warm cheek before returning her attention to the duchess. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your generosity will not be wasted on me.”

  Grace took her hands, a jubilant expression upon her face. “You are most welcome, my dear.”

  A maid entered the drawing room and set up afternoon tea. Amelia’s thoughts raced as she picked up a delicate china cup, failing to notice she had forgotten to add sugar until she took a sip and shuddered at the bitterness.

  Uncle Lewis and Grace chatted long into the afternoon, finalizing the details of her chaperonage, but Amelia hardly heard a word.

  Before she knew it, the pair became engaged in small talk. Amelia could not help but notice how splendidly they were getting on. Why, if she did not know better, she would have said they favored one another.

  She did not have time for studying them. She turned her focus back to the task at hand. True, she would be staying in England, but it was not yet a permanent arrangement. She would not be able to rest until she found a spouse.

  SCANDALOUS ENDEAVORS

  CHAPTER THREE

  Amelia found it hard to believe the time for Uncle Lewis to depart had already arrived. The past week had gone by so quickly after he agreed to allow Grace to chaperone her. Amelia could not have been more delighted to remain behind in London.

  Mere hours ago, her lady’s maid, Edna, helped her dress and fashioned her hair into a simple plait for breakfast. Now, here Amelia stood next to the Duchess of Abernathy on her expansive stone porch. One of her hands rested on the cool ledge, while she used the other to wave Uncle Lewis off.

  The farewell felt bittersweet. Despite her thrill at remaining behind in England, she also knew how much she would miss him. The knowledge that she never planned to leave England only served to compound her sadness.

  She could not help but be torn between her happiness at remaining and her sadness at seeing her only living relative depart. Her heart grew heavy. Perhaps he would make the voyage back for her wedding?

  Amelia wanted to go to the docks and properly see him off, but he had refused the request. The docks were no place for ladies, unless they were sailing. He did not want the duchess and Amelia there, alone and vulnerable, after he boarded the ship.

  It was true, the docks held wide appeal for unsavory types. Pickpockets and the like. Amelia acceded to his wishes without argument. She did not want to upset him by arguing overmuch for fear he would change his mind about leaving her behind.

  She continued to watch his hired hack as it grew increasingly smaller on the horizon before becoming consumed by London’s thick traffic.

  Amelia tipped her head toward the indigo sky. “It is a beautiful day for travel.”

  “Indeed it is,” Grace replied. “Just listen to the birds tweet their splendid songs. Spring is in the air.”

  Amelia closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh morning air. “I have always been rather fond of spring. It is the season of rebirth. The only time of year we get to witness daily miracles.”

  Her gaze drifted in the direction of the garden, where most of the flowers bloomed with new life. The forsythia and daffodils were on full display among the many other garden flowers. A rainbow of petals floated above fresh green shoots. She longed to stroll among them.

  “I have always had a knack for losing myself in gardens. There is just something about nature that draws me in.”

  The duchess chuckled and placed her arm around Amelia’s shoulders. “How very right you are, my dear. Let us go in and prepare for Lady Sarah’s visit. I have invited her to have tea, and suspect she will be arriving shortly.”

  Amelia grinned and allowed Grace to guide her back into the house. The gentle rustle of their skirts filled her ears. “That is splendid. I can hardly wait to discuss my plan. I have thought of little else all week.”

  Her butler, Edwin, opened the door as they approached.

  “Please have the drawing room set up for afternoon tea. Lady Sarah will be joining us,” Amelia said as they passed through into the foyer.

  He nodded, closing the heavy door.

  Amelia pulled off her plain black shawl. She had already become sick of the color. It only served as a reminder of all she had lost, increasing her sadness every time she saw it. Tears threatened, and Amelia took a deep breath, fighting them back.

  Grace handed her shawl to the butler. “Please inform the staff that I will be taking Lady Amelia to Abernathy House after tea. Have her maid complete any packing that still needs to be done.”

  “As you wish, Your Grace.”

  Amelia handed Edwin her shawl, then proceeded up the curved mahogany staircase. She needed to prepare for afternoon tea, and more importantly, for her future.

  * * * *

  At Grace’s request, Amelia worked the cool ivory keys of the piano, when Sarah’s charming voice joined in.

  “Look out upon the stars, my love, and shame them with thine eyes...”

  She played on as Sarah sang each word perfectly. Her delicate voice reverberated through the room while Amelia danced her fingers across the keys. Alas, the tune ended, and Amelia rose to greet her friend with a kiss to the cheek while Grace applauded their performance. />
  “I am so pleased you were able to make it, Lady Sarah.” Grace patted the seat next to her. “Come sit, both of you. We have a plan to devise.”

  They settled into nearby chairs.

  It felt nice to be in her drawing room entertaining her closest friends. Amelia nearly forgot her state of mourning due to the pure pleasure and normalcy of it.

  “How are you adjusting, Amelia?”

  Slammed by a powerful wave of emotion, Amelia nodded as she pushed the pain back down. “I will be fine once I am wed.”

  A maid brought the tea in, and they each accepted a cup.

  With a wry grin, Grace asked, “Have you determined which of London’s bachelors you will lure to the altar?”

  “I have thought of little else. I do have some names in mind, but am not sure any of them will do. I think Lord Shillington may be promising. As you know, he is the eldest son of the Earl of Voxton. A proper English lord” Amelia set down her cup of tea. “At the very least, he’s a perfect gentleman, and pleasant to look at.”

  Sarah grinned. “Indeed, he would be delighted. He certainly did not hide his amour toward you at last season’s balls. In fact, he made quite a fool of himself chasing your skirts.”

  Laughter permeated the room and echoed off the walls, lifting Amelia’s spirits.

  She would never forget the way his eyes followed her about the ballroom. From the very moment her toes grazed the ground at the duchess’s ball, Lord Shillington was set to do her bidding. He bowed to her ever so ungracefully, and bumped into the Marchioness of Lovington, causing quite a scene.

  After apologizing most profusely to the marchioness, he added his name to Amelia’s dance card as many times as proper etiquette allowed. “He did appear to be quite smitten with you, dear,” said Grace, her voice laced with mirth.

  Sarah placed her hand on Amelia’s. “You would receive no complaints from him over being trapped into matrimony. So long as you were the bride.”