Page 5 of Heart of Decadence

Chapter 3

“What have you done, Mama?” Dismayed, Amelia glared at the broad back and wide shoulders of Lord Ainsley as he disappeared into the crowd. “I thought you wished me to marry Mr. Burke.”

“I wish you to marry as well as possible, my dear.” Her mother, too, watched Lord Ainsley’s progress, a new light in her eyes. “Why settle for plain Mrs. Burke when you could perhaps be Lady Ainsley?”

“I assure you that will not happen. He doesn’t…” Amelia hated to speak the words. “He doesn’t know about me, Mama. About the scandal. He was out of the country when it happened and only knew that I was betrothed. Only just now did he learn that Carrington died. He’s thought me married all these years.”

“So much the better.” The delighted tone of voice assured Amelia that her mother would not set aside the notion of a proposal by Lord Ainsley any time soon. “If I read the signs right, I daresay he will be calling on Papa to ask permission for a formal courtship.”

“He will discover the truth, Mama. He has only to mention my name to anyone and the whole sordid mess will rear its head again. Do you want that?” It was the last thing Amelia wanted. Lord Ainsley seemed to remember her with fondness. She would like that to continue, but feared the next time she saw him, he would look at her with disdain, believing her a ruined woman.

“Of course not.” Mama sniffed, but also smiled. “However, if his lordship is taken with you, he might choose to ignore or disregard the scandal. I seem to remember you were quite fond of him your first Season.” She suddenly peered closely at Amelia. “And he of you. That spark may well be kindling once again.”

The one thing for which Amelia scarcely dared to hope. She could not bear Lord Ainsley, whom she’d developed a tendre for those many years ago, to think ill of her now. Better to leave the past in the past where it could remain golden in her memory, rather than tarnish it with the scandal that had plagued her for years. Her safest course, though certainly not the one she wanted, would be to marry Mr. Burke and settle for respectability while she still could. Put all thoughts of Lord Ainsley firmly away. Of course, having become reacquainted with him would make that a more difficult task. A more handsome and intelligent gentleman she had never met, with a wit that had drawn her to him long ago. If only he had not gone away…

“Miss Burrowes, at last.” Mr. Burke had finally come upon them, his frowning face dark as a rain cloud. He handed her a glass of lemonade. “I was beginning to fear Lord Ainsley had absconded with you for some nefarious purpose.”

Amelia had to bite her lip to keep from giving him a sharp retort. The pot calling the kettle black, indeed. “No, Lord Ainsley was a perfect gentleman. He took me outside for a breath of fresh air, which did restore me remarkably well. We may have lingered a moment or two as I particularly enjoyed the cool air after the heat inside.” She gave him a pointed look and was mollified when he dropped his gaze from hers. “Then he returned me to Mama as promised.”

“Well, I am glad to hear he behaved himself.” Mr. Burke’s bluster returned as he spoke to Mama. “I would not wish for my future wife to be put upon by a rogue with a title.”

“Prospective future wife, Mr. Burke.” Her mother rapped his arm sharply with her folded fan. “There have been no settlements signed yet, if you recall. My daughter is still free to accept the suit of any man who presents himself.”

“Mrs. Burrowes, you cannot mean that!” Burke’s voice rose above the din of the ballroom and a hush fell over the area where they stood. All eyes turned toward them, curious and suspicious.

Hoping no one would register who she was, Amelia fled toward the ladies’ retiring room, her violet slippers drumming a tattoo on the hardwood floors in her haste. Along the way, she thrust the untasted glass of lemonade into the hands of a startled footman, scarcely caring if it slopped onto her dress or not. If only she could spend the balance of the evening hiding there, perhaps this ill-omened re-entry to society would not be deemed a total disaster.

* * * *

“May I ask you something, Haversham?” Nathan had just finished a fine afternoon’s work deviling his best friend, the Earl of Haversham, by arranging for him to court his sister Kate, who was in her third Season with no prospects for a husband. He had a sneaking suspicion that the animosity between the two masked kindred spirits who would ignite a blazing passion if given the right circumstances.

“By God, I think you’ve asked enough of me for one day.” The earl eased back into his chair, sipping his third whiskey.

“This has nothing to do with Kate, so smooth your feathers.” He set his own glass on the table. “It has to do with a lady I met last night.” After he’d escorted his sister home last evening, he’d not been able to get Miss Burrowes out of his head. The hints she’d given him spoke tantalizingly of some tragedy in her life, although he couldn’t for the life of him conclude what it might be. Perhaps his friend might be able to shed some light on the situation.

“Ah, the truth comes out. You wish me to be leg-shackled to your sister in order to keep you company.” Haversham grinned, likely enjoying turning the tables on him.

“I have no idea of marrying the woman.” Then why had he thought about her since last night like a moon-struck calf? “I met her briefly last evening, although we met initially over ten years ago, just before I took my Grand Tour.”

“She’s a widow?”

“No, although she was once betrothed it seems. A Miss Amelia Burrowes.”

Haversham sat bolt upright, spewing whisky over himself and Nathan’s best Italian leather chair. “Miss Burrowes?”

“What the devil’s the matter with you?” Grabbing his handkerchief from his pocket, Nathan attempted to save his favorite seat.

Haversham mopped his face and clothing with his own linen. “You did say Miss Burrowes, didn’t you?”

“I did. You say her name as though the lady was an ogre of some sort. I can assure you she is not.”

“Ogre, no. Outcast, yes.” The earl tossed the sopping handkerchief onto the table and set his glass next to it. “I am amazed she’s back in Society, even after all this time.”

“We cannot be talking about the same lady.” Nathan finished scrubbing the leather cushion and stood. “This is Miss Amelia Burrowes. A sweet but rather spirited lady even when I first met her.”

“I was acquainted with her when she first came out. You’d made such startling remarks about her beauty I wanted to see her for myself and scraped an introduction.” He peered down at his cravat, baptized with dark stains. “Gads, Ainsley. I shall have to hurry home and change my linen before heading to the club. I’m not fit to be seen.”

“Tidy yourself later. What about Miss Burrowes?”